Daimon - DANIELLE BOLGER (best fiction novels TXT) 📗

the alcohol could not diminish my desperate yearning. Pain seared in the center of me, which only intensified with the intimate touch.

“It's so beautiful it hurts,” I whispered.

“We're all alone,” he stated, meaningfully.

I knew that I couldn't, that I shouldn't, but I had forgotten why. He radiated so much blissful heat.

“I'm so hungry,” I murmured

“That makes two of us.” He launched himself onto me, locking his lips fiercely into mine as his hands groped over my body. Finding my breast and my crotch, he pushed his hands firmly. I could feel his heart shake the thin air that was between our chests. The sound of thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump boomed in my ears.

He released his lower hand, undid the zip to his jeans and reached inside. Our lips were still locked, his tongue caressing around mine. It tasted so beautiful, so tempting, and so fleshy. I took a bite.

He screamed and shoved me away as I chewed on my prize, but I did not let him go. Not when I had just started my meal.

In one swift movement, I placed a hand over his mouth, stifling his protesting wails, and sent a pointed strike forward. There was a tumultuous crunch as I sliced through the bones of his ribcage. His body convulsed under my hold, but I held tightly

I wrapped my hand around the melodious, life-giving organ. With an elated yank, I tore the organ free from its host. As I severed the cords that once connected it, blood gushed out like water from a hose.

Finally, the incessant moans ceased, and I was free to toss the leftovers to the floor. Sam collapsed on the ground, swimming in his own blood, legs kicking out to paddle him back to shore.

I admired my prize, its radiant warmth; its continual beating still pumping out little spurts of blood and blowing air bubbles from its two large arteries. Hunger quickly overruled my curiosity, forcing me to satiate my desires. I swallowed it all in one.

Leaning against the balcony, I licked my fingers and again stared at the majestic sight in front of me. Paradise. It was paradise.

I inhaled smoothly, as if air was composed of silk that caressed my insides with every exhale. I felt that familiar warm golden tingle again. It spread through me swiftly, yet softly. It was in my toes, in my cheeks, and I smiled as all weight was lifted from my shoulders. My whole body could have been composed of no more than air, of nothingness. I could feel it—a perfect harmony of full emptiness. It occurred to me that I, the ground, the water and the air, the entire universe was nothing but tiny flecks of glitter dancing around in a great abyss. This dance was so organized that from a distance it almost appeared as if something was there. It was enlightenment. It was truth.

Laughter escaped me as if this universe of nothing was trying to draw the glitter out from me, pulling right at the core.

Then I was interrupted by a woman's voice. “Well, I see you've made yourself right at home.”

Chapter Twelve

I lunged upon the trespasser, strangling the fiend with one hand. I knew, in a meager moment, I would hear the frail neck bones collapse, but that would not be before I delved into this chest, too. I shot out with my other hand, but it found neither ribcage to penetrate nor sternum to splinter. In fact, it found nothing. Suddenly, there was only the sound of air whooshing past me. My skull hit the tiled floor with a loud, echoing crack. I then skidded the twenty feet hard into the wall.

I righted myself quickly, to a crouched position, keeping low in case I suddenly needed to make a dash. I barely had a scope of my attacker before I was crudely bashed against the wall and dragged up so that my feet missed the ground. I could scarcely see past my fitful lashes to my pursuer's hands as they closed around my throat. I fought for a couple of minutes, flailing rapidly, summoning all my strength. My attacker may as well have been restraining a chicken, wings fluttering, just before snapping its feeble neck. Whoever it was, he was simply too strong. After a long while, my own strength waned and my movements transformed into those of a doped youth. My arms slowed enough that I found myself peering at a large nefarious figure before me with eyes of black pools.

“Smoke,” I managed to utter through his stranglehold.

He scoffed and dropped me back to the hard, tiled floor. I crumpled so limply I may as well have been a corpse. With trepidation, breaking through the pain of my throat and lungs, I realized that soon I would become one once more.

“Now that you have been subdued, I hope you are more...approachable now.” It was the voice I heard before, but it did not come from that dark figure. It was a woman's, and grew louder, as did the clicking of stilettos.

Suddenly, I felt a hand clasp around my jaw. It was gentle, kind.

“Darling, there is no need for us to fight, hmm? I don't like to see someone such as you so easily overcome and disheveled,” she added, with mildly veiled disdain. She drew my chin up; if I were not so battered, I would have awed at the visage of her beauty. She had exceptionally soft features and deeply tanned, flawless skin. Her face was perfectly sculpted; framed neatly by the bob of her jet-black hair.

I wondered who she was. She was not a demon, though, her deep brown eyes retained their human warmth.

“There, that's better now, isn't it?” she cooed as I relaxed. I heard a scoff from down the other side of the balcony. Smoke had retreated and sank into the deepest shadow the small space provided.

I backed away, hastily watching the woman all the while. I had not fully recovered, but I regained strength quickly. No doubt, thanks to Sam lying in a bloody mess just a few meters off. I could see the full ambit of the woman then; clothed in a deep emerald dress that clung to her slender frame with a noxious magnificence. It shimmered proudly as it defied the low lighting.

She took on a motherly tone. “You are not going to be difficult anymore, I presume?” I glanced back into the shadow where Smoke leaned against the wall. He was turned away from us, and though I could see little more than his silhouette, I received a distinct feeling that he was bored.

“Who are you?” I demanded with a husky voice.

“My name is Alex. Alexandra Perrier. It's a pleasure to meet you, Jane Kirra. So long as you don't try attacking me again.” Her smile indicated that she was finding the situation very amusing.

“You're not like me, are you?”

She shook her head.

“Detective Smoke there…he is, isn't he?”

Her eyes narrowed. “You've been doing a little homework, I see. Yes, he is the same as you.”

“You're Foxes.”

She nodded.

I breathed for a second and gazed across the blood-streaked floor. Sam's blood had been carried far. Suddenly, I stiffened. “You set me up! You made me do that.” I reached back out for her throat, but Smoke planted a gigantic fist against my cheekbone and sent me skidding across the ground. The back of my head thudded into another wall. Smoke disappeared just as quickly as he made himself known.

“Idiot,” Alex murmured. “Darling, you murdered him all of your own volition. A real shame too, he was a regular. Not a high roller, but spent enough cash that he was welcomed here.

Dazed, I pulled my hands out in front of me and gazed at the blood coating them. Dread filled me as I realized I killed again— this time, with no more motivation than to satisfy my dark desires. I clasped my hands tightly, watching the red liquid exude from between my fingers.

“I wonder,” she commented thoughtfully, “are you feeling remorse for the man's life you just stole?”

“I...I promised myself I wouldn't harm any more innocent people,” I husked.

Alex gave a light chuckle. “Coming from someone like you, that is very amusing.”

I looked up and saw her leaning over the balcony rail as she gazed down into the water.

“Why are you here? I thought I was to be meeting Ruby and Valentine.”

“They won't be coming this evening,” she replied. “You have been deemed too unstable. Some of them were worried that you may be still lusting for revenge, so they sent me instead; someone a little more dispensable, to explain your situation to you.”

I shot a look to Smoke, who stood back in his heavily shadowed corner. He was vigilant, but generally disinterested.

“Explain it to me then. Mack said I was a demon. What does that mean?”

Alex barked with laughter. The noise diverted my attention to the doors. I realized, with sudden gravity, that anybody could walk outside and discover us at any moment, dead body and all.

“Seriously, girl, stop looking so distressed. Those doors were locked the moment Smoke and I joined you. I mean, really, the way we need to clean up after you, it's as if we are your parents. I guess he is, in a way.”

Alex gazed back across the water. “You are not a demon. Mack's fear blinded him from the truth. What you are, Jane, is a daimon.”

Her eyes closed as a gust of wind tugged at the train of her dress. “A daimon is not a demon, though to an untrained and un-tuned ear it may sound very similar. Daimon, by Greek mythology, means an inferior deity, a demi-god; divine abilities in the flesh of a human. Otherworldly, if you prefer.”

Cautiously, I moved next to her by the rail. A part of me screamed distrust, but another part was being lulled to her side.

“How do you mean otherworldly? You don't mean, aliens or something?” I felt stupid as soon as I let the words slide.

Alex smirked, but she did not laugh so harshly this time, it was more as if my question was of a child asking if the monster in the dark really existed, though I knew I would not receive the preferred response.

“Aliens…” Her smile broadened. “Abstractly, yes, I suppose.” She stared long and hard at the scenery as she thought. Then she elaborated, “The power you possess, it does not exist in this world. All conscious beings that exist are composed of both spirit-energy and form. Everything that is living needs a basic skeleton, and if it is intelligent, requires a cognitive center where conscious thought may be processed. In a human, this is constructed by the human form and its brain. Animals are all very similar you know. Though our IQs may be quite different, our genetic structures are not too far from one another. Pigs, for instance, actually provide a great substitute for human tissues when the need arises. Despite being dirty and providing wonderfully tasty Christmas meals, they are also quite bright. With the equivalent intelligence of a three-year-old, so I've heard.”

“Pig tissue is the new collagen?” I extrapolated.

Alex looked aside. “You should know by now, we are nothing but pink meat.” When I did not respond, she continued with her original train of thought. “My comparison is not to undermine human life. It is to accentuate how intertwined all life is on Earth, no matter how trivial it may seem. When I speak of you, of where your power is derived from, it does not relate at all to human life or to the animals on this planet, nor to anything known in this world. Your power—what you are—” She chuckled. “You're right, you are an alien, but not from another planet, nor solar system, nor galaxy. You, darling, are not even from this universe.”

She let the silence linger for a moment again. I felt like slapping her to force her to speak. My thirst for knowledge was suddenly overpowering, but I did not lash out. Perhaps, because my other desires were at that moment satiated. I may be a “newborn” as this daimon, but that did not mean I was a child, or even a pig. I could maintain my dignity. I waited patiently, tapping a foot to fill in the time.

My agitation did not faze Alex. She continued to stare off into the picturesque distance, as if drawing its harmony into herself. “Daimons are a unique invention. The form—the body—the human skeleton is of