Personal Demons: A Riverton Demons Novel Page 6

  “That must have been some nightmare. I couldn’t sleep so I was up reading, and heard you shout. When I came in you were thrashing around, mumbling about not being a monster or something. Glad Owen’s helped me work on my nightmare-handling reflexes though. You’re even fast when you’re asleep.” She smiled quietly and brushed the hair off his forehead, exactly like he had watched her do for Owen, and that was enough to break him.

  “I am, though,” he whispered. Laura wrinkled her nose at him, and he found that he couldn’t look at her anymore, so he sat up and turned to stare at the dresser in the corner. Laura moved to face him, perched on the edge of the bed, her fluffy pink and white robe looking as cozy as the rest of the room, though significantly less rustic. Neither the homey decor of the room nor the comfort of her presence could warm him right now. The ice had lodged into his soul and no number of handmade patchwork quilts could ward off that sort of chill. Just the fact that he could see all this so well in the weak illumination from the hallway nightlight was enough proof for him that he needed to leave now. His brief vacation into normal human life was over.

  “You are what? Fast? Absolutely. And not entirely awake yet, I bet,” she said, smiling slightly. He shook his head and shuddered. He felt the weight of his shame pressing him down, through the mattress and into the dark. He had to tell her, and then he would go.

  “No,” Brian drew in a ragged breath. He could feel the sting of tears and the acids of shame and his fear churned together in his stomach. He had to tell her, she deserved to know what kind of horror she had invited into her life so easily. Gods, into her son’s life, too. “I don’t mean that I’m fast. That’s just part of it. Part of the whole, horrible truth. Laura, I am a monster. I don’t even mean that metaphorically. I mean that I am an actual, not-human creature. I only found out at all when Mom died and I was going through her things. There was a letter. She never sent it, never sent a lot of letters, apparently. She just wrote them, then stuck them in a file folder that I found in her desk. I guess she was too afraid to send them because…”

  Brian shivered again, remembering the sunlight falling across the desktop where his mother had loved to work and look out over her garden in the mornings, the smell of the tea steaming gently into the morning next to her keyboard as he read the damning letters, written with her flowing cursive with her favorite blue pen that she always used for personal letters— she’d never liked email. He could still feel the paper in his fingers and hear the soft whisper of the page rattling in his grip.

  “Mom was in college. She was pretty popular, I guess, she was always telling me about how she’d go to parties and out to lunches and on dates. Well it turned out that one of those dates wasn’t actually human. She didn’t know at the time, but I guess she found out after… After it was too late.

  “He used some sort of spell to look human. He was hiding from something. The Temple, maybe, I don’t know. He was just a fling for her at first, so it was no big deal when he disappeared. From what she wrote, I guess she was glad he was gone, because she was afraid of him at that point. But then she found out she was pregnant. My whole life I took it for granted that I was human. I mean everyone’s human, right?

  “I’ve always known that there were stories, old stories, but that was a long time ago you know? The Temple made sure of that, I thought. But it’s the only way that everything makes sense. I’m not human. I… I’m some kind of monster. I don’t know any more than that, just that I’m not safe to be around. I’m so sorry I lied to you. I’ll go now.” He was choking on the words at the end, glad she’d just let him get through it. His head throbbed between his hands, pain lancing through his brain with every drumbeat of his pulse. Blood rushed through his ears, overwhelming his hearing, and his throat felt like it would close itself off and he would mercifully suffocate. At this point, he felt that death would be welcome— at least he would escape the guilt of lying to everyone he met and the terror that someday he would snap and hurt someone. Laura stilled, and he closed his eyes to brace himself for her scream, her accusations, her fear. All of it.

  He felt her fingers sweep across his brow again, then slide down till her hand cupped his cheek.

  “You are not a monster. It was a bad dream,” she said, her voice a murmur against his skin. “Hush now, you’re safe here with me.”

  Brian’s eyes snapped open. Laura was gently pulling his hands away from his hair where he was pulling at it; pressing kisses to his ear, his temple, his cheek, trying to reassure him that he was not still trapped inside his own mind. He reached up and took hold of her shoulders, leaned her back so he could sit up in the bed.

  “I’m not still dreaming, Laura. I’m wide awake and living in my nightmare. I’ve always had a bad temper. I’ve always been stronger than I should be. Faster. I got into a lot of fights when I was a kid. Mom spent a lot of time and energy she didn’t really have to spare helping me learn to keep my anger in check. It was really bad for a while. I—” his voice cracked and he had to swallow before his throat loosened enough to continue. “I put a kid in the hospital once. I barely even remember doing it. He’d been harassing a bunch of kids, and then he singled out this one girl. I don’t remember what he said, but she started crying and I remember he tried to grab her or something. I… I just snapped. They had to pull me off him. It took three teachers. We were in third grade.”

  Brian remembered the hot, red anger that had surged through him. It had felt so good. So pure. He remembered the blood on the ground from the first punch he threw. He broke the kid’s nose, very nearly broke his cheekbone. That kid could have been blinded by Brian’s fury. He could still hear the crunch, and the way it felt as the boy’s face flattened under his fist. To this day one of the great mysteries of Brian’s life was how his mother managed to keep him out of legal trouble for the incident. Looking back, he realized that she probably leaned hard on some of her old family connections to keep him out of elementary school jail, or whatever they did with dangerous kids like him.

  “I was yanked out of school and Mom homeschooled me for a couple of years, while she worked full time. She made me learn all sorts of anger management stuff, and even then she was still afraid of me. My own mother was afraid of me, Laura, do you understand that? I never put it together before she died and I read what she wrote to me, but now it all makes sense. The letters are in my bag, I didn’t know what else to do with them, so I brought them with me. I don’t know why I kept them, except maybe just that they’re from Mom, you know? Maybe I I thought that if I kept them I could figure out what sort of monster I am, so I’d know how to stop myself.” He swallowed, trying to force his throat to work properly. It had felt thick and tight ever since Owen had come in asking to be protected from monsters. What a farce. How could he protect anyone from monsters when he was one himself?

  “I’ll go. I shouldn’t have let you talk me in to staying, but I’m too selfish… I just wanted to remember what normal felt like. Just for a few days, I thought I could forget about it all. I guess I also hoped that some of your optimism would rub off on me.” Brian slumped in the bed, scrubbing his hands over his face to hide for a moment. His eyes stung and his body felt like it had a lead coating. His arms were too heavy, moving was so hard but he kept his head down and his hands up. He knew that Laura would see the tears when he went to get his bag and that somehow felt like the last indignity.

  “Like hell I’d let you leave like this,” Laura said, her own anger hot in her voice. “And I believe you. It certainly explains how you were quick enough to stop Kevin’s punch. He’s a jackass, but he’s not a total pushover in a fight. He was training to be a Temple warrior, after all, even if he wasn’t as good as the rest of them.”

  “Gods. Even more reason for me to go. If the Temple ever found out—”

  “What if they did? Being half… whatever you are… that doesn’t make you inherently evil, or a threat to anyone. And the Temple doesn’t just go out on random monster hunts, you know.” She r
eached out to pull his hands away from his face and stroked his hair again. The thought that she did the same for Owen flickered through his mind, momentarily distracting him from the pressure of his fear, and he couldn’t find the strength to pull away. “I went to a Temple school, remember? I work for the Temple Library in Riverton. I know a couple of Priestesses and more than a couple of Guardians. They don’t work that way.”

  “Laura—”

  “No. I’m not going to let you run away again.”

  “Run away?”

  “Yes. You’re trying to run away from yourself, and I am not going to let you run away from me too. Or Owen. You,” Laura jabbed a finger into his chest for emphasis. “Brian Sedge, are a good man. You are an honorable man. You have done nothing since the moment we met but put yourself at risk to help me and Owen, and I won’t allow you to call yourself names and belittle yourself.”

  “But… what if—”

  “What if I’m hit by a bus next time I cross the street? What if the Earth is hit by a meteor? What if, what if, what if? Stop it. You made me a promise, and I won’t let you break it now by making excuses and running off.” She was using her Mom Lecturing voice on him, and damned if it wasn’t working. Brian swallowed and tried to think of an answer to her accusation.

  “Mommy?” Owen’s sleepy voice floated into the room. He stood in the door, a classic image of a little boy in pajamas, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Brian’s own eyes widened.

  “What are you doing out of bed, sweetie?” Laura tipped her head at him.

  “I heard you guys talking and now I woke up.” He shuffled over to the bed and climbed up to join the conversation.

  “Brian had a bad dream, that’s all, baby,” Laura ruffled his hair. “Go on back to bed.” Owen turned to Brian.

  “Mommy is the best at making bad dreams go away,” Owen nodded sagely. “She gets in the bed with me and gives me a big hug and helps me go back to sleep. It works for every time. You should let her do that. I’ll help!” Before anyone could react, Owen had flung his arms around Brian’s waist, and snuggled in with all the strength in his four-year-old arms. Brian gaped at the child’s head, then looked at Laura, helpless and afraid. She just grinned at him and slid up the bed to snuggle his other side.

  “You should listen to him,” Laura said. “He’s got a lot of experience, so he knows when I’m right about these things.”

  Chapter 9

  Brian could only blink. His brain was trying to fire, but coming up short again. He was somehow propped against his pillows now, half sitting. When Laura shifted so that she could lean against his side to wrap her own arms around him, running her fingers through his hair and down the back of his neck, Brian just froze, letting the sensations wash over him. Laura’s fingers were not helping him think clearly. Owen, snuggled firmly into his side now, was already dozing off again, the steady quiet snuffling of his breathing slowed and deepened.

  “Why? Why aren’t you scared of me?” he asked. How could she allow him anywhere near her son now that she knew? He didn’t even want to be near himself.

  “You know what? All I can hear is your nightmare-inspired fears, based loosely on something your mother wrote that may or may not be true. But so what if it is true? If anything, I feel safer, knowing that you might have a few extra hidden talents to use on our side. Besides, I spend most of my work day surrounded by people with more than a few odd abilities. I do work for the Temple Library in Riverton, you know,” she said, stretching up to peck a little kiss to his ear. He shivered again, but not from the chill in his soul this time. “And what I told you the other morning is still true. I’m glad to know you, Brian. Glad that you’ve come into our lives. More than glad, actually. And I don’t care who your father may or may not have been.”

  Laura leaned back and looked him in the eye, and he saw that she was speaking no more or less than the truth. He could see every detail of her face even in the darkness of the cabin. No streetlights outside or digital indicators casting spooky electronic glows in this room, just a quarter moon in the sky outside and the small nightlight in the hallway, but he could see the hair falling over her right eye and the small smile curving her mouth as clearly as if they were in a sunny street at noon. Brian swallowed, unsure of anything anymore.

  “Gods, Laura,” he breathed. Then she stretched forward, stopping his breath entirely. His mind scrambled; the fear, the shame, the self-pity he’d been feeling so deeply since he’d found that letter were being drowned by shock, and a sensation of relief so strong he could cry with it. It was barely even a kiss, and both of them were acutely aware of Owen’s quiet little-boy snores at the side of the bed. Still, he drank her in as if he was dying of thirst. When she finally moved back, she looked a little dazed, and Brian imagined he looked like he felt: like he’d stuck a fork in an electrical outlet. He was glad her vision wasn’t as good as his.

  “So,” Laura eventually broke the silence.

  “Laura. I—” Brian broke off when she shook her head.

  “Don’t. I’m well past falling for just a pretty face and a nice smile,” she smiled, sheepishly. “But before I even knew your name, you had already proved that you’re much more than just a good-looking guy. Like I said, you’re a good man, no matter what else you are.”

  Brian shook his head. “Anyone would have done that. I mean who could just sit by and watch a kid get hurt like that?”

  “Lots of people would just sit by. People who couldn’t understand what was happening quickly enough. People who just hesitated for a second before deciding to help. People who were too scared of the man, the knife, the whole situation. Hell, Kevin wouldn’t even have considered helping afterward, let alone putting himself at risk in the moment. You didn’t even think, though, I bet. You just saw what was happening and moved. You’re not a monster, Brian. No matter who or what your father was, you’re not a monster and you’re not secretly predisposed to being evil. You’re just you.” She smiled up at him, running those fingers through his hair. “So stay. Stop running and stay for a while.”

  Brian closed his eyes and leaned down to rest his forehead against hers. Could it be that simple, really? He’d been so afraid that he would snap suddenly, wake up one morning violent and cruel. Hope, that fragile creature, started to flutter its wings in his chest.

  “Maybe,” he said. He took a deep breath. “I’m honestly terrified.”

  He buried his face in her hair and she tucked her head into his shoulder, reaching her arm across his chest to ruffle Owen’s hair.

  “Then we’ll all stay right here and protect you from any old nightmare monsters. It’s the least we can do for you.” Laura grinned, mischief twinkling from her eyes now, appreciating the shock she had caused.

  “But…” Brian stumbled. “why…?”

  “Because you’re our hero, Brian.” Laura smiled and ruffled Owen’s hair again.

  *****

  The three of them wandered down the main street of nearby Sandy Bottom the next afternoon, watching the chocolate ice cream melt in drippy rivers down Owen’s arm and splatter on the pavement to leave a sticky, sugary trail behind them. Laura made occasional, half-hearted attempts to clean the arm in question, but Owen squirmed away and she would wind up laughing so hard that she had to let go. Brian still couldn’t understand how he was here, right now, enjoying another strangely perfect spring day with Laura and Owen. It was such a peaceful, cheerful, normal thing that Brian wanted to wrap the moment up and put it in his pocket so he could always have it with him.

  He heard Laura laugh again which brought him back from his thoughts.

  “Owen, you are an astonishing mess!” Laura was saying. She tried to sound stern, but the laughter that was escaping through her words and the bright sparkle in her eyes ruined the effect. “Oh gods, it’s in your hair now! Owen stop waving your—” Cut off by her own hopeless laughter, Brian grinned as she took her drip-covered son by his very gooey hand and steered him towards the public bathroom. They
were on the edge of the small town now, near the parking lots that sat between the shops and restaurants of the town and the large, sandy beach area that was set up at the wide, flat bend of river to draw families and day trippers.

  A large, commemorative plaque that had an image taken from an antique photograph and gave tourists an overview of the history of the place stood at the boundary where the sidewalk became a beach path. Laura shot Brian a bemused look as she hustled her son off to get marginally less sticky before loading him into the car for the drive back home to Riverton. Brian just grinned back and leaned a hip against the signboard to watch other people mill around in both directions with inner tubes and towels and picnic supplies.

  A group of teenagers sauntered past, heading for the beach. They were giving their friends a hard time for waiting so long to hook up. The couple in question was turning beet red, but taking the teasing with good humor. There was an older man with a sleeping child draped over his shoulder. Her sandaled feet bounced slightly with every step and the man— her grandfather Brian guessed— patted her back and headed towards a small shop across the street. Today was a beautiful day to be here. A beautiful day to be alive, in fact. He hadn’t felt this light in years. Once he noticed his smile, he just felt it grow that much wider. Brian found he couldn’t stop grinning. His face was starting to get sore.

  After his nightmare and the middle of the night confession, he had spent what felt like hours lying in the dark listening to the two of them breathe. Owen had been absolutely immovable, waking up and complaining loudly any time either of them tried to take him back to his own room, so Brian had shrugged and let the boy stay, snuggled into his side. Laura had dropped off not long after that, her arm stretched over Brian’s chest and snuggled close into his shoulder as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Brian’s mind kept turning itself inside out and upside down, trying to sort out the storm of thoughts that swirled through him. Owen’s simple, little-boy faith in him had gone a long way to help Laura’s words sink in. Maybe she was right. Maybe he wasn’t destined to be hunted down after all.