Chapter 28

 

So much for a freaking holiday. Aleda’s weekend had been awful. She had been in a bad mood ever since that incident at Thanksgiving dinner, and not even Nate’s offer of dinner and a movie the next day had done much to cheer her up. She had complained to him at the restaurant about what a jerk Ryan was to her, but it didn’t make her feel any better.

The chocolate concoction they ordered for dessert sort of did.

She didn’t even remember anything about the movie. It was that forgettable. She didn’t really pay attention to it, since they were sitting mostly by themselves in the back of the theater, but in all honesty it probably didn’t matter. They made out for the majority of the movie, which made Nate happy, but Aleda’s heart just wasn’t in it. She couldn’t keep her mind off of Ryan, and the things he had said to her. She kept seeing those jade-green eyes, and hearing his low voice dripping with sarcasm. She said goodnight to Nate quickly and disappeared into her room for the rest of the night.

Saturday was awkward.

Talia showed up at her house at noon, like she always did, but Ryan was nowhere to be seen. She felt his absence more than she cared to admit, although she got the feeling that Talia noticed anyway. Aleda knew it was because of her, because he couldn’t stand to be around her. Was she really such a child, that he would rather endure his sister’s harassment than come to her house for a couple of hours on a Saturday afternoon? Talia answered her unspoken question, telling her that she had woken up the next morning to an empty apartment, and she had no idea where her brother was. He had made it back just fine on Thursday, as Talia had picked him up when she finally left Mike’s house and drove past him, but now he was gone. Talia assured her that he hadn’t left for good, since his few things were still at the apartment.

Not that Aleda cared.

Why should she care whether that jerk had run off again? It wasn’t any of her business. He was impossible. He just made her life difficult.

…Except when he was telling her about the places he’d been. Killing feeder demons that would have otherwise killed her. Helping her put on those hopelessly complicated training gloves. Standing there and allowing her to skewer him with wooden claws and ruin his shirt over and over so that she would be able to defend herself and not get herself killed on her first hunt.

Damn it!

Why did she care?

Talia did what she could on Saturday. She helped Aleda get all the straps buckled on the training claws and had her practice all sorts of spins and parries with them on. It was all very helpful. She just couldn’t shake the feeling of something being missing, no matter how many times she told herself it was much nicer not having to deal with his fickle moods.

Now it was Sunday. Last day before she had to go back to school and turn in all these worthless assignments. She found herself working on them despite herself, keeping herself distracted by things that were at least unintentional about infuriating her. The timeline was easier than she thought. She had found a book at the library that had all of the dates she could possibly need in it. She gave the report on acids a cursory effort—Ms. Logan was an easy grader. She scribbled something that looked like her mother for Drawing. She could do the oral in French in her sleep. She had even taken a stab at the precalculus proofs, although that had quickly devolved into her actually stabbing the paper with her pencil in frustration.

She’d get back to that.

Now she was trying to make some sense out of this Dylan Thomas person. Mike had actually been more helpful for that than he had been for her timeline. It turned out he had met the guy several decades before at a bar. Apparently he was a bit of an alcoholic. Mike had gotten him completely drunk that night, matching the man drink for drink and confusing the hell out of him by not becoming inebriated in the least.

She had read through the poems so many times, trying to make some kind of articulated sense about them, that the lines still ran endlessly through her head. It was like a really annoying song that got stuck in a person’s head without even having the catchy melody to go along with it.

 

…I have longed to move away but am afraid; Some life, yet unspent, might explode…

 

It didn’t particularly help that the poems were intent on sounding frustratingly appropriate.

She tapped heavily at her keyboard, making up some nonsense about what the poems meant and trying to keep the actual words out of her brain.

 

…Not for the proud man apart From the raging moon I write On these spindrift pages…

 

She wondered what would happen if she wrote her whole report about what a drunkard the man had been, and how his poetry was really just the incoherent ramblings of a man with no firm grasp on reality. Now that paper might be fun to write. Probably wouldn’t go over too well, though. Depending on what sort of mood Mrs. Van was in she could either be amused by the break in tedium from grading identical reports or annoyed that she had to spend time on a paper by a student who had put no effort into the assignment. Mara would laugh, though. Aleda imagined herself reading it out loud in front of the class, the students all giggling and Mrs. Van getting less and less amused.

Right. Scratch that idea. Got to write something realistic.

 

…Foster the light nor veil the manshaped moon, Nor weather winds that blow not down the bone…

 

She had to take a break from that bloody homework. The report on Dylan Thomas was almost done anyway. She got up from her seat in front of the computer and kicked at the books that still littered her bedroom floor. A glance at the glowing numbers on her clock told her that it was just after six in the evening, and almost time for dinner. Her stomach growled in corroboration. So she went downstairs.

Mom was in the kitchen, doing something with chicken.

“Hi, honey,” she said. “How’s the homework coming?”

“Almost done,” Aleda said. “I’m on the last project.”

“Don’t spend too much time on it,” Mom chided. “You’ve hardly been out of your room all weekend.”

“I have to get my projects done,” Aleda protested.

“Okay, honey. I’m just saying, you spend too much time on that stuff. You are still passing everything, right?”

“Yeah, Mom.”

“I know you were having some trouble with that precalculus class.”

“I’m passing, Mom.”

“Just checking.”

“Is dinner ready?”

“Almost. Get the plates.”

 

…And all my grief flows from the rift Of unremembered skies and snows…

 

Those damned poems were still running around her brain.

Dinner was chicken and rice and some kind of vegetable mix. Mom had been on a chicken kick lately. Aleda was getting sick of it. What she wouldn’t do for real, honest-to-goodness tapas!

This is what she got for having an American mother. Boring chicken dinners four days out of the week. Rice out of a box. Vegetables out of a can. She ate the food in dull silence, wondering how much longer that b***h of a report was going to take her to finish. Now that she was out of her room and away from her books she would rather do anything but go back upstairs and work.

She had a feeling that Val was having another of her parties. She had originally planned it for Saturday, but family stuff had gotten in the way. Aleda had declined the invitation, thinking she would still be far too busy with her school projects to go to a party on a Sunday night.

Yeah, it should be right about now. Not too late, since they all had to go back to school again the next morning. After a long weekend of nothing but homework and awkward silences the idea of going to one of Val’s parties sounded really, really good.

Homework could go rot in hell.

What she had on would probably be alright for the party. Jeans and a decent sweater. She dumped her plate in the sink and fetched her coat and hat from the hall closet.

“Where are you going, honey?” Mom asked when she saw her daughter putting on the coat.

“Val’s house.”

“What about your homework? You haven’t finished yet.”

“Don’t worry, I’m getting a B in that class anyway.”

“Oh, alright. Have fun, home by ten!”

“Okay, Mom.”

 

…Others betray the lamenting lies of their losses…

 

Half a block down the road, Aleda found herself wishing that she had put on gloves as well. It was almost December, and the breeze was icy. The sun had set, casting a further chill over the neighborhood as the shadows all ran together into night’s darkness. She was a little surprised not to see anybody else out, since it was still pretty early, but she supposed they would all rather stay inside where it was warm. She would certainly be happier when she finally got to Val’s house. Just for the heat. The darkness had long since lost its terror after so many times walking through the woods with Talia or Ryan by her side. The demon nest was empty now, and neither the streets nor the woods held any further danger for her.

So impatient was she to get back into a heated house that she ducked through a neighbor’s yard into the trees beyond. She would be able to cut through to the other side and shave several minutes off of her walk. It was second nature to her, now, walking smoothly through the yard and avoiding any windows that held the owners of the property. She might have looked like an underage burglar if not for the fact that she continued straight through the yard and out to the other side.

 

…Old age should burn and rave at close of day…

 

She had come into the woods not far from where she had once entered on her way to watch the nest. The trees, even in the dark, were familiar to her. She forgot to be watchful.

There was something wrong.

The trees loomed higher, losing their homey familiarity. An animal hooted. Her skin crawled. She no longer recognized the trees, nor the path that she was on. Something had happened to the woods.

The feeling of wrongness grew with every step she took, the hair on the back of her neck standing on end and her hands tingling uncontrollably.

 

…Though wise men at their end know dark is right…

 

Instinct pulled at her, turning her head to the left. Was there something darker in those trees beyond? She saw nothing, and yet she knew there was something there. Something there that shouldn’t be there, that couldn’t be there, because the something was nothing. Nothing at all. Nothing where there should be something. It hurt, oh god it hurt. It hurt like a hole torn in her own flesh. Her face twisted and her fingers tightened with the pain.

She could see it now, see it with her own eyes in the dim moonight.

It had also seen her.

No!

No, it wasn’t possible!

They had all died!

Her breath caught in her throat and it approached. Her feet were frozen to the leaf-littered ground.

There was no mistaking it. She recognized it now.

She had named it Bobbo.

 

…Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright…

 

It recognized her, too.

It sneered. It sniffed the air like an animal, taking in her scent. It was stalking her.

Heaven so merciful, protect her tonight. There was nobody else around. No Nate, no Talia, no Ryan. Nobody to catch her arm and pull her to safety. Nobody to put themselves between her and death.

Its hand shot out, far too fast, and caught her throat. Aleda gasped and grasped frantically at its grip, her nails digging into its hand with no effect. It peered at her.

“You’re that brat from before,” it rasped at her. Its voice was a growl. “What’s wrong? Mommy and Daddy not here this time?” It smirked at her futile attempts to get free. “Your friends made a lot of trouble for me. I think it’s time for a little fun.”

 

…And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way…

 

It pulled her off the ground and tossed her through the air, and she landed heavily several yards away. Instinct pulled her upright. It charged.

Sweet mercy, it was fast.

Aleda barely managed to spin away in time, leaving the demon to grab at empty air. It whirled, growling. It changed form and leapt at her, knocking her off her feet. This time, there was no time to spring back to her feet. It was on her in an instant, pinning her down with its two front paws. She could see drips of saliva shining on its sharp teeth, inches away from her face. The weight made it almost impossible to breathe.

Even through the wolf, she thought she saw it sneer.

It was going to bite her. It was going to kill her, and there was nothing she could do.

She was going to die.

All she could see, now, were those horrible, empty eyes. She could see nothing in those eyes.

 

…Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight…

 

Something deep within her sparked and blazed.

As its jaw snapped down to sink into her neck she caught it with her hand, turning the teeth away and digging her fingers into the soft underside of its jaw. Her other hand came up to grip its ear and she wrenched it as hard as she could, pressing into its throat at the same time.

It yelped and rolled off of her, giving her all the time she needed to rise back to her feet.

Nervous now, it circled her and she watched it carefully, waiting for her opportunity. When it attacked again she was ready for it, her hand whirling around and catching it on the side of the head with her fist. She allowed herself a small smile, remembering how she had skewered Ryan the same way.

 

…Do not go gentle into that good night…

 

The demon was unsteady, now, and she took her chance. She launched herself at the creature, digging her nails into its throat before tearing it away. Blood spattered across her face. It was weakened, but it was not dead yet. She took hold of its long snout, putting her other hand behind its head and twisting it around sharply. She felt it crack. It faded. Her hands were empty.

 

…Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

 

Nascent fire burned through her veins.

 

 

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There were no parties for her that night. She walked back home, not caring about the blood that still stained her face and dripped from her fingers. Her walk was steady, though inwardly her heart pounded with the exhilaration of what she had just done. She reached her house and walked through the front door.

Her parents, relaxing on the couch, looked up at her and then looked again, their eyes wide and frightened to see the blood and torn clothes.

“Honey! What happened!?” Mom cried out, rushing to her.

Aleda looked at her mother. Her eyes were shining.

“I killed the demon.”