Chapter 17 A Rotting Kiss

Me and the guys had awoken before the moon hung like a bauble over the tree tops. The air chilly as December nights and crows whistled in the bushes.
              Just as I awoke in the shadows of the ashes of the dead fire, I felt the weight of Alyson's head on my arm. Her soft breathing fluttering my hair that fell on my face. Her once fierce eyes looked defenseless when she was asleep. Her skin illuminated by the moonlight that danced behind us.
              "Is anyone awake?" Danny mumbled, flinging his ghost like hair out of his face and lifting Sarah up with him who lay like a damzel in distress on his chest. He rubbed his eyes and all I could smell was ash and soiled flesh.
              "Me..." Mike grumbled with Amy snuggled in beside him like a jigsaw puzzle. Her neck crooked in the hollow of his collarbone. Her soft voice turned sour when she was interrupted.
              "Wha..." She snuffed.
Finally, Alyson squirmed until her eyes fluttered open and her dazy gaze landed on me. Her blue eyes looked deadly in the night, and as she stared at me, they appeared secure and safe.
              My chest felt heavy, knowing the guilt I bear was painful. I cared for her, but not in a way that I could offer back. I did feel like s**t most of the time, and since it's like a routine with her now, I don't know how to shake it off.
               "Me." I said abruptly, sitting up all of a sudden. Her head lolled to the side and she sat up in a flash, her once dazzling eyes looked sharp and menacing as she glared at me with daggers.
               My first thought as we all sat up around the smokey fire was what to do next. We knew this demon Lord was in GapWate, located near or on the edge of a cliff and he was marrying Ammie in three days. Now, me and the guys just need to grab a higher class demon that was actually invited to this wedding so we can make him show us where this place is.
                "So Nath, what's our next move?" Mike lazily placed his elbows on his bent knees, Amy resting her sleepy head on his shoulder and he dipped his head on hers. It was a sick blow, especially when I wanted Ammie right here in my arms where she would safe.
                "We need to grab another demon." Just as everyone moaned and groaned, I waved a hand. "Not a baby demon, guys. But a demon that's been around for a while, that's actually been invited to Ammie's- I mean, Byron's wedding." I know I was slowly draining without Ammie being here, even my words don't come out right. The guys looked at eachother and back at me, eyeing me and probably thinking how dull I must be.
                 Damn, if Clair were here she'd make a joke out of what I said and make everyone laugh. But no, I'm just a stick in the mud and Clair has found her own two feet. Oh, how I hope that we meet in the next few days.
                 "Oh," The group chorused together.
"What if we can't find one?" Amy said, her hand outstretched on Mike's chest. My eyes lingered over to Alyson who stared at me with intesity.
                 "There's demons everywhere, Amy." I said when I met her gaze again. My heart thumped that I hoped I was right. "We'll find a no good, stinker." I stood and smiled at them all.
                 Just as I did, I seen the glint of the moon shimmer on our weapons. Knowing we'd be back out in a couple of minutes like stalkers in the night, like predators. I remember how Ammie looked like a wet fish out of water when our group was formed. She was rusty at slaying an actual demon, and sucked at firing weapons. But she was always so good at stabbing.
                 I remember her face glowing pink when I helped train her in aiming and firing a gun in our spare time. How I came across her in the firing range at the back of the academy. Her hands shaking as she poorly shot at the target. The room smelt like gun powder and the sun rise glow just cutting in between the rafters. Her solid frame shimmering from the orange shade, and yet, I couldn't help but be repulsed that time she first joined our group.
                 She wasn't just clueless, but poor at stance, running and firing. But I could still feel the tingle in the back of my head when I went over to her and helped her out, telling her off when I told her she got something wrong, her face contorted with anger when I did so.
               And yet, I had to help her. I felt a certain protection over her, like I needed too. And over the past years, I have seen her improve dramatically. I could still see the bitterness in her face when I corrected her, but the softness when we'd laugh together.
               Whenever we were around eachother, we'd always smile with one another. Share funny moments, and the time she told the group at a 'family meeting' that she had no parents, and that she had been placed in the care of her grandfather was crippling. She told us that she only had Clair and her grandfather, and being with us, we were now her family. It warmed my heart, and thus, I felt more and more protective over her.
                Now, I couldn't stand her being out of my sight. It was like a gnawing at my heart, making me feel useless every waking moment, the moment I couldn't protect her when she was stolen right from under me.
                "Guys, we can do this." I bent and met Alyson's eyes again, she she nodded at me with a brimming smile. I picked up my gun and stood, and Alyson followed my lead. One by one, Danny, Sarah, Mike, Amy stood. Victorious and glimmering in the moonlight, the darling white light catching their features. Coming to life in the dead of night.
                Each of them picking up their weapons and the smoke that still came from the fire slitherd around us like snakes, its poisonous trail lingered in our noses and back of our throats. I hefted my gun over my shoulder and know I felt my pulse quicken.
                "Let's get us some demons."
 
                           


I stalked around the tomb, webs catching in my hair and face, trickling into my eyes and mouth. The dust fluttering down like snow, only it made my head itch, like the feel I got in here.
              My bones shook like an earthquake. My lips numb just as much as my fingers as they lingered on the cenitmetre dust covered surface. The rock tomb crumbling at the edges, dents and scorch marks.
              Blood boiling uner my skin and eyes burning from the anger.
This is the sicko. This is the sicko who took my mother, who had probably hurt her. Who led my father on to come here and kill him. I wanted so badly to spit on the top.
              "You b*****d." I whispered more to myself. My eyes shielded by my hair and eyelashes. My petticoat annoyed me and I ripped it off with brutal force, it was smudged and ripped with dirt and splinters of the door. "You dirty, scumbag of a demon."
              This fool took my mother, did who knows what with her before saying he wanted her to marry him. I should be lucky, Byron is a total control freak, but at least he doesn't grope me or sexually harrass me. But he does hit me, which is no suprise, he's a spoilt demon lord who probably got whatever he wanted.
              My head spun with the fury that bubbled in me, my disgust for this...Thing.
"What are you doing here?" I heard a quiet voice behind me, and I felt scared suddenly.
              I twirled on my heels and seen Byron stand in a halo of webs and dust in the broken door frame. His face just calm, shocked, but not angry.
              "I came here by coincidence." I said flatly, my disgust for this person is just as bad. He wanted me to marry him for my legacy, the selfish prick. "Is this the b*****d that took my mother?" I asked.
               Byron just looked at me, gorm. His lips in a tight line and eyes directly on me with no emotion behind them at all. His body tense in a black shirt and jeans, hair unruly. He looked normal, but a bit isolated.
                "Is it?!" I screamed this time, my teeth clenching and face serious. But it unfazed him, like he didn't care. "Answer me!" I yelled, shrieked almost, I had to grit my teeth from the annoying sound I made.
                Like air, he became a blur and was in my face. Our noses touching and his body against mine. The surge of heat overwhelmed me just as much as the fresh roses and sickly mould.
                My nostrils flared and eyes bulged and pulse quickened, and like that, I felt my stomach revulse.
                "Wha-" I was shut off from his lips, they pressed against mine and I felt my lungs expand from shock. Better yet, my body was limp against his, grinding against the tomb I wanted to burn.
                I was scared and worried, my frowns not doing me any good and arms felt dead against him. Because his normal blue eyes burned, firey explosions behind them. Like some sort of trick, like snakes in his eyes. I felt gripped to them, and worse, I couldn't close mine.
                It was like I had not feeling in my limbs anymore, my strength leaving me. But the feel of his lips moving against mine was sickly, I wanted to headbutt him so bad, my jaws shut tight for my anger.
                But when he shut his eyes, I felt a grip around my body losen and I could breathe, like a lifeless body having air breathed into them.
                Like lighteneing, I whipped my head back, and with brutal force, cracked my forehead against his. It was a hollow thud, but a powerful one at that. He staggered back, clutching his bleeding head, eyes normal again.
                Pain enveloped from my skull and numbed my whole head that I felt dizzy. I, too had to steady myself on the tomb.
                "What the hell." He mumbled, even I couldn't hear him from the buzzing sound that vibrated within my ears.
                "That's my line." I said as if I were crazy. I clutched my own head and felt relieved when I felt no blood. By I already spotted a lumb like a growth under my skin. "Why the hell did you kiss me, you a*****e?" I asked defesively, my head burning.
                Yet, my chest felt heavy. I felt like a pull to Nathan's distraught face that loomed in my head. I felt miserable, but really, it was Byron who forced this kiss upon me which really, I did not want at all. I wanted to stab him so bad.
                I rubbed my lips with the back of my hand, but already, I tasted something wrong. Like bad milk, off meat, dirt. It was roaming in my mouth like water, making my gums feel funny.
                "Because, I wanted to." He looked broken, a little off guard, avoiding my eyes. He looked a little flustered and he turned his back on me, and I seen dots of blood hit the floor. "Now get out of here, this room needs peace."
                "Hell no!" I found my strength as soon as he ordered me to do something, my feet rooted to the spot.
                "You have no choice." He grabbed my arm with a painful grip, his fingers dirty with blood.
                He dragged me out of the tomb room, and I looked back at the shadowed rock grave just resting in this cathedral. He switched the light off and it was pitch black, making me instantly afraid of the dark now.
                "Let me go!" I shouted, fumbling to get away from him. And when I finally did, I faced him. He looked at me, plain and head still dripping with blood that it trickled likea stream down his nose, dripping slowly from his chin and onto his black shirt that the blood was hard to spot. "I want to know something." I said straight, a bit awkward now I was out of that room, but my body felt exposed from just being in this body tight suit.
               "What?" He said, leaning on one side of his body, angling his eyes right at me.
               I braced myself for this, knowing the answer was what I predicted. But it would hurt most of all because it's the people I loved, the people I used to love. I clenched my fists by my side and looked directly into his eyes that he kept looking left and right without moving his head.
               "Is my parents buried here?" I asked, my eyes watering and I seen something twitch inside him as he stood all high-and-mighty in front of me.
               It was heartbreaking the day I got the news of my parents death. A sunny day and I was out playing in Grandad's bright green garden with Max the German Shepherd. The sun beat down and I was all smiles, Grandad practising sword fighting with that shiny sword that's now mine.
              Then I stared in wonder and fear as a man in a suit who looked buff and mean with sharp grey hair and piercing blue eyes approached my Grandad.
              My Grandaddy can't possibly know this man. I had thought that day. He wouldn't know a scary man like that. I had stared at them as they talked.
              And like the whole world had went against him, my Grandad looked like he had been hit with a ton of bricks. His younger face twitched with pain and hurt and harsh eyes went watery and he cried.
               That's when I knew something was wrong. Because my Grandad never cried for nothing, my mother once told me he cried when he'd been in the waiting room when she gave birth to me, and he held me for the first time. He had never looked so proud.
                But here, with the mean looking man saying 'Sorry' with a stern look on his face.
                I sat in the grass, a little six year old girl with bunches in her hair and a summber dress on. And I was told my parents were on a mission, I hadn't seen them in weeks.
                Then my Grandad came over to me, not looking at me. He'd always treated me like a little angel, like his special girl. And there he was, fresh tears flowing freely and face crunched up like a paper ball.
               When he looked at me, his face grew taught and he picked me up quickly, telling the mean man to leave.
               My chest hurt, and eyes were burning themselves from my tears. And I hadn't even gotten the worse news. But when I was in his strong arms, he looked at me with now dark eyes, his fears coming true right there in his cold blue eyes. This harsh reality kicking in.
               Then on, he'd treated  me like a soldier. Wanting me in the acadmey I was born to be in. I was enetered at seven, when I knew my parents had been murdered by a demon, I was a special person from my background. But I had no training what so ever.
               But from the day he'd told me, Mammy and daddy won't be coming back, I wanted to kill every single demon I ever came across. I wanted to take my anger out on the whole species, to take them out, one by one from the one demon that ruined my whole life.
               Grandad still treated me as a little girl, though. I was his little assassin, always testing me unexpectedly. But I knew he wanted me to do the deed. To do what I was born to do.
                Now as I stood here, a rock with rough edges. Knowing I was told that my parents had been killed together, that their coffins are empty, made my anger more and more barbaric, more corrupt. 
                Byron looked at me, eyes sort yet intimidating. He gave me a look over and for a second, I thought he was going to turn his back on me. Then his mouth opened.
"One of them are." His eyes concentrating on the floor, as if hurt by my own stare.
                 But when he said One, I felt relieved, but crushed. Only one of my parents were buried here, or probably in a tomb. Concealed from the world, from me. Only to keep it their little secret.
                 And I knew who exactly who was here.
"It's your mother."