Daimon, DANIELLE BOLGER [read my book .txt] 📗

and Zach's geeky T-shirts. I saw Zach’s lopsided smirk, his greasy hair, and a camera fall to tiled ground and smash into thousands of tiny shards. They were all lost to me, and as hopeless at reconstruction as shattered glass.

Then other images came: Sandra's sobs as she hugged me, and Ryan's lips; the way they touched mine so tenderly and roused a feeling I had long forgotten. I saw his eyes sparkle as they shouted unspoken words to me—I did not fear them anymore. All I wanted was another moment to go back and whisper, “me too.” Then I felt Smoke's darkness, as if he were the very real boogie monster my mother promised did not exist. I was, then, surrounded by the heartless bodies of countless women; many of whom were much younger than I was, and far more innocent.

No! I cannot die yet. Not this way. I still need my vengeance!

In the silver nothingness, I raised my head forcefully and turned back around to the source of my dissolution, the place where the cold steel was tearing at the fabric of my being. I traveled there in a moment and saw the blade was nearly through the knot completely. I outstretched new hands dressed in golden gloves, gripped the hilt of this sword, roared, and fought with every last ounce of my being to wrench it free.

The menacing weapon growled back at me and held fast to the last unbroken thread. It drove itself against the knot and I with greater malice.

“I refuse!” I shouted at it. “I refuse to die!”

Feeling a power surge erupt from me, the flecks of silver were blasted away as the blade quivered in my hands. They were fighting me, vehemently denying me of my salvation, but it was not enough to overcome my rage. Another ripple of energy rumbled through me, and with a loud snap, the sword was finally released. As I pulled it back, it shattered at once and fell with brilliant translucence. I raised my arms up to the nothing sky above and felt tiny drops of gold rain down on me in glory. I spun around in this place, clothed in a dress of pearls, and felt myself being elevated, breaking through oblivion. At last, I opened my eyes.

Feeling interestingly ethereal, I took a moment to allow my eyes to adjust and began to survey my surroundings. All around me was plush green, and I recollected that it was shortcut grass with a band of trees around it. Above, was a sky composed of a harmony of colors. It was the dawning of a new existence.

I pushed myself off the ground with regenerated hands and scanned my surroundings, looking for some trace of Freddie or two appendages that once belonged to me, but saw nil. As I rose to my feet, I detected a small leather parcel some distance off and made my way to retrieve it.

I picked up my handbag and spun through the still air, reflecting on the violence of both the weather and the actions of those who fought here last night: roars of wild animals and beastly thunder; gushes of fresh blood and oceans of rainfall that washed the crimson away; gray dust of the night's victims, and the strong breezes that claimed the particles into the atmosphere. I smiled at the magnificence of mother nature.

I did not dally there any longer, I still had my self-determined mission—I still had daimons to kill.

****

The drive to continue my goal was stronger than ever. However, a new sense came over me, and it bade me to first return home, gather my thoughts, and cleanse myself from my unsavory state before returning to the task.

I was not exactly sure what happened in that silver-nothing place. Was it inside me? Was it where the essence of my being lurked? Was it my soul? I could not answer these questions, but that did not seem to matter because I had assumed a strange sort of calmness since emerging from there. My conflicting thoughts and feelings, the wild beast inside that was eternally hungry, and the melancholy I harbored for the lost were all just a memory. It was like the teenager had finally matured into an adult, and with this new sense of self I recognized the errors of my prior plan. Returning home to cleanse, I intended to revise my strategy into something a little neater.

I ran all the way back. Traversing by foot proved to be an incredibly efficient method since it allowed me to jump fences and gates and create new shortcuts. As a result, it did not take long to round my block and find my feet slowing on the driveway to my house. I ran between the two cars parked in the drive port, and smiled at the sight of my little hatchback to the left.

I turned the handle to the front door and it opened without resistance. It seemed my kind car-returner made himself at home; inviting himself inside with the keys I had left in the ignition back at Zach's.

I walked quietly inside and turned into the living room, where a man lay, sprawled out on the lounge. I watched the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he slept. I approached him and listened to his heartbeat. For one who was sleeping, it pounded just a little too fast.

I ignored him for the time being and climbed up the stairs into the master bedroom; the one in which my parents once occupied. Dropping my torn and soiled clothes to the floor, I stepped into the shower and embraced the cascading water. As I closed my eyes, I saw those golden drops again and felt their purity cleanse me to the core.

After lathering myself in white bubbles, I enjoyed a final rinse, dried myself with a plush white towel and selected an outfit to wear for the day. I considered this carefully— it would be the attire I killed Rose in.

I donned a black tank top, stretch jeans that wore like tights, zipped up long boots and tied my hair in a practical ponytail. I kicked my previous attire into my wardrobe and called out to the other side of my bedroom wall, “Are you going to pace through that hallway all day or are you waiting for an invitation?”

The door burst open at once and Ryan came rushing in, panting. “Where the hell have you been?”

I gently shut the wardrobe door. “I needed some space to think.”

“You were meant to wait at my apartment. It was bad enough finding you gone when I got back, then you didn't answer any of my calls, and weren't even at your house. No one knew where you were. I...I just couldn't stop thinking the worst.” He strode to me in haste, grasped my face and pressed a passionate kiss to my lips.

When he finally retracted from the tingly touch, he did so slowly, hesitantly. He whispered, “I was so worried that something happened to you.”

I smiled. “I’m fine. More than fine. I’ve had time to...work through my pain, and move past it.”

He gripped my arms fiercely. “What do you mean? I don't understand you, Jane. Why are so calm? What's happening with you?”

I pulled my hands onto his arms and eased them down. I looked up into his furrowed brow and smirked. “It is okay, Ryan. Everything is okay.” I rubbed his shoulder tenderly.

His expression softened. “You're confusing me, but I'm glad you're safe.” He tugged at the tufts of hair that had escaped my pony and fell in front of my face. “I remember when you had a full fringe; you should go back to that at some point.”

“Go back...” I murmured, thoughtfully. Back to a time of youth and innocence. “I'd like to go back...” But a flower can never regain its petals once they're lost.

“Well, now that it's morning, would you like to get some breakfast?”

I put a hand on his chest and breathed in the potential delight of his heart. I wanted it, but I did not need it. “No, not today. I still have some work to do. I need to catch up from yesterday.”

He rolled his eyes. “I think your boss will excuse you for one day of missed work, considering what you've been through.”

“It's...more work for me; help me resolve things. Zach's death has affected me—I'm okay, I just still need some more time on my own. Do you understand?”

“Jane,” he responded firmly. “You're still in danger. You need protection.”

“I'll have my phone on me. Call me if you need to, just give me the day, okay?”

“You'll expose yourself to them; they'll have no hesitation in killing you. You should know this,” he pressed.

I shook my head. “They won't attack me. They sent a message for me, Ryan. If they were going to kill me, they wouldn't have bothered with it.”

“You're wrong, these people are harsher than the media fully realize. They send messages to their next targets first, as a way of instilling fear.

“I know,” I breathed, “I know how cruel they can be. That's why it won't be straight away. They won't try to kill me just yet, they want the message to be fully felt first.”

Ryan's hand continued to sweep through my hair and tugged gently at the pony-tail. “That would be right… if the message was only to you.”

I gasped. “You have still been investigating the Valentine case? The one your superiors told you to back off from; the one that the Foxes obviously had a hand in.”

His head moved over my shoulder so I could not see his eyes. His hand held my pony tighter.

“Do you know anything?”

It was a long moment before he responded. “No, not yet. Jane, that message wasn't just for you, and ever since I've felt...conflicted.”

“I see.”

“You need to stop this. You need to hide from the Foxes, they're planning on doing something with you, I know it.”

We were close, but I managed to slip a hand just under his collarbone. It was so warm there.

“Not today,” I refuted. “I will be going out during daylight, in populated areas, before returning home all safe and sound. I will give them no opening to make a move, and they will not force one. This gang is cold, vicious, but not uncalculated. They will happily bide their time. Foxes love to chase their prey.”

“It's still too risky.”

“Please, Ryan. I need this— just the day. I'll be back tonight and you can stand guard then, okay? Just give me some time now. I need to mourn, alone.”

He weighed this heavily, but I felt his tight muscles loosen. It did not seem like they wanted to, though. “Alright. Well, there is still a lot of sorting needed back at the station, and it looks like I'm going to need to start working on some sort of protection protocol for you. That will at least take the day, and there’s shitloads of paperwork that needs to be filed before that can be approved.” He drew out a long breath. “You'll stay in populated areas, have your phone on you, and answer when I call?” It was a directive.

I nodded. “Things will change soon. Can you feel it?”

He embraced me and whispered into my ear. “Yes. Jane. I...I've always cared about you. I remember seeing you here in your home, all dressed and ready to go for your school formal. When I saw you in that crimson dress that complemented your...” he laughed lightly, “skin so beautifully…that was when I saw the amazing woman you had become. I could not believe that you were the same kid sister of my mate who used to follow us all around. It was then that I knew how I felt, but I...I couldn't feel that way. Not about a girl who was five years my junior; barely legal, and my best friend's sister. So, when Jack left you later that year, I did, too, because I knew that if I didn't I would not be able to control myself.”

He pulled me away and stroked my chin affectionately. His ocean eyes reflected some unseen sun. “I had to respect both you and Jack, but it was hard. Honestly, I never really let you go. I checked up on you, stalked you. I read all your news articles and drove by your house a couple of times. I was so close to entering your life again, so close, but then years had passed and I thought there was no way that you'd even remember me, let alone care for me. I mean, you were just a kid back then. I'm sorry, it sounds pathetic, but I feel like I can tell you now. I need to tell you. I can't pretend that I'm not...” He trailed off as if deciding he said too much.

I reached out to his mouth and gifted him with a small kiss of my own. His eyebrows lifted and he crunched his eyelids firmly.

“I think I feel the same way, Ryan.”

He pulled away, smiling broadly. He opened his mouth to speak, but I placed a finger to his lips.

“Wait,” I commanded. “Just until tonight. Let's meet back here. Then you can tell me.”

He nodded, beaming with