Daimon - DANIELLE BOLGER (best fiction novels TXT) 📗

not to harm her,” Smoke reprimanded. That's right, there is someone more powerful that I have to be terrified of.

There was a strangled laughter. “You got to! I saw it on the cameras, all black and blue and oozing with blood. It was delicious, but it’s all healed up now, just waiting to receive a new facelift. C'mon, Smoke, you got a taste, just let me have one, too!” he pleaded.

“She is not on the menu,” he growled. “The master ordered me to teach her a lesson, should she be difficult in the recruitment process. Now, he has ordered that no harm come to her, for the time being.”

The lanky brunette showed no attempt to hide his resentment. “She is not worthy of our master's protection. She kills who she likes, how she likes.” This was not said with condemnation, but with envy. “It is not fair. Why should this newbie be granted so much leniency that the rest of us have always been denied? It is unnatural. It is unsafe. She is granted too much freedom! With it, she might think she can actually rebel.” His words were quelled at once with a loud thud.

Smoke's hand was outstretched, raising the other figure off the ground, back pressed against the wall. “It is not our place to question the master's orders, Freddie. You yourself are new, and for that I forgive this disobedience. However, step out of line again and I'll teach you a lesson.” Smoke slammed him against the wall like a rag doll, with enough force to finally have the brunette clenching his mouth.

The young woman slept, unhindered by the room's commotions.

Freddie. I remembered that name. It was the man Mack spoke to, the one he was afraid of. Then I recalled the brunette in the reflection of a wine glass approaching me from behind.

Smoke had his teeth locked as he spoke. “Remember where your loyalties lie. Remember who holds your life.”

Freddie writhed on the spot, so eccentrically that I thought a creature was squirming on him. Then he started screeching and pulling at his hair. He was having a tantrum.

“I know who holds my life. Master does, and I love my master, but she!” He crawled along the ground towards me with an expression on his face as if I had terrible body odor. “She is suddenly created and thinks she can do as she pleases, kill who she pleases. It's not right. She's not right! There's something wrong with her. You see it, in her eyes.”

I pawed to my feet, glaring back at him and readying myself for more fighting, but then Smoke's imposing frame blocked our path. Still, he had his back to me.

“Freddie, I'm warning you, back down.”

“What will happen, you'll toss me around?” Freddie's laughter was a witch's cackle. “Go ahead, break all my bones. I’ll just heal, and then one day I’ll get stronger than you, and dish out all that was served!”

Smoke strode to Freddie, who was still crouched on the ground and glared imperiously over him. “Stupid bastard. Being a daimon does not make you immortal.” He grabbed Freddie by the collar and pulled him to his feet with one hand. “Mortals might not be able to kill you, but I certainly can. Keep tempting me and I’ll make it so you will never have to heal from one of my beatings again.” He emitted a soft chuckle, and though it was very quiet, the pitch was so low and powerful that I felt it cause a tremor to the soles of my feet.

“There used to be others, you know,” he added, indulgently, “but they were removed. They proved unnecessary. There was one about two hundred and fifty years ago who was a lot like you. He lasted ten years.”

Freddie's face had fear etched all over it as he finally shut up.

Smoke released him and at last turned to me and with the memory of Saturday fresh in my mind, I shrank away involuntarily.

There was a tiny crease at the corner of Smoke's mouth; it was his version of a smile. “Relax, Kirra. I've been ordered not to harm you for the time being, no matter your...transgressions. I don't disregard my orders very often.” He turned meaningfully to his comrade. “Freddie has a point, though, you are different from us. It almost seems like you are not loyal to our master.” Every word that Smoke said was slow and purposeful. Maybe he had to think a lot before he spoke as he translated his thoughts from a foreign tongue, but he could have just been doing it for dramatic effect because it certainly was working.

I pulled myself to my feet but said nothing.

“Why are you here?” Smoke questioned.

“I...to finish it,” I admitted.

He nodded, then motioned for the bed. “That's a start.”

That was why we were all there, to kill this one poor girl.

I frowned, wondering why they even bothered to question my loyalty when they surely knew the answer to that. Didn’t they? While taking very different approaches, they both seemed dedicated to the protection of Rose, whom they regarded as their master. With me, however, they sensed I was different, as if my lack of loyalty was a surprise. Could it be so long since a new daimon was made that my conduct seemed so unnatural to them? Could time be a factor in sowing loyalty into Rose's minions? It would make sense: with everyone else dying of old age, the only family they would feel like they had would be each other, with Rose as their father.

I wondered how old each of them were. Smoke knew someone two hundred and fifty years ago, but the way he remarked about it so casually told me he was older than even that. Freddie though was supposed to be new. Was he made just prior to me or was Smoke's definition of 'new' warped? Freddie was certainly Australian. His accent was not out of place, but his mannerisms were that of a lunatic. Perhaps that meant he could not so easily adapt his behavior to new times. This made me suspect that I could assume he was transformed sometime during the last couple of decades.

“Well, you just gonna stand there like some bimbo, or do something?” Freddie snarled.

“I'll do something to you.” I leered back, but moved toward the girl and hovered over her.

Do it, Jane, an internal voice egged. Kill the little wench who walked in unannounced during your hit. The victim confessed he was quite practiced at the same conduct himself. Kill the girl; she is just another loose end. Don't let those dirty Foxes clean up anymore for you. You know that with every clean up comes a tighter and tighter leash. Don't let them chain you, Jane. Don't let them have control of you.

I shrugged off my aversion, peered objectively at her limp body, and calculated a method for a quiet death. By the sight of the air tube and heart monitor I thought that could be achieved as simple as two little plugs. Ridiculously easy.

I leaned against the wall and pulled the power plugs. The beeping machine went silent. Glancing across the room, I saw Freddie grinning intently. Smoke was as somber as ever.

The room was not silent for long. I heard screaming, crying and shuddering right by me. Alarmed, I turned to the girl, but was dumbstruck to find her soundless, motionless and as white as if she had been claimed by death long before. The screams were still there, but they came from inside my head. I shook it, furiously, which dulled the cries, though I could not fully quell them.

I peered at her simple body, observing the stillness of the machines and the air bag beside her. Her breath no longer fogged up the mouthpiece. There was something about it, something too cruelly sweet—or the other way round— which I could no longer discern. I stared at her dwindling life force forlornly; white skin, pink cheeks; a frail form that was barely reaching womanhood, and suddenly she became too picturesque to die. She was Snow White, lying dead in her glass coffin, no more than a teenager with barely the faintest glimmer of hope that Prince Charming may come and kiss her back to life. But there was no Prince Charming here, only a dark giant, a gleeful praying mantis and a monstrous woman.

Then the cries changed; they were no longer the young girl's, but her father's, Gregory Fletcher. It was his last request that transcended through the grave to plead the salvation of his little girl. I'm begging you; It's all I care about in life anymore. It's my dying wish. Just...let her be. I remembered her name then: Lisa.

That objective part of me wanted to scoff at the ridiculous sentimentality. What did I care about some stupid girl? Her existence was a threat to my own. The monitors and ventilation were off; it was easy, so perfect to just let her die then and so necessary for my safety. Yet, despite the deactivation of the machines, I could still hear her heart beating with so much vibrancy. It hadn’t given up on life yet. Then, somehow, my desire was not to eat that heart but to save it.

Jane, this is crazy! You already know you're a monster, and because of that the girl must die. Either give into your desires, rip out that beautiful beating red-coated organ from the girl's chest or be smart and let her die quietly, without a mess. There is no third option. You're not human anymore!

When I next looked upon the girl, I did not see that same one who interrupted me a day earlier, but a girl with skin far whiter; one as porcelain; and hair long and unruly with a color of deep brown, glimmering with luster and sadness. She was a sad, disdainful invalid who relied on others for support. She could not even go in the sun without sunscreen before developing a burn and bore limbs that were weak from an over-privileged life. But looking at her then, I knew her life was not sheltered, for she had faced her own share of pain, all the while condemned to her despair.

I recognized this girl, I hated her, but I could not let her die.

Breathing heavily, I was surprised by my following actions: reconnecting the power cords, and even fluffing the pillow behind the teen's skull.

I heard laughter over my shoulder just before the air shifted from a deftly approaching limb.

“No!” I screamed and knocked the aggressor away with a kick that swept from behind me more naturally than any other movement I had performed in the last week.

Freddie flew like a dove and elegantly collided with the opposite wall. The noise was pleasing, his groans even more so. More, he needed more punishment!

I flashed up to him, gave him a dozen hook punches before he even hit the floor. When he did, he raised his head and smiled, blood dripping from the long corner.

“Big mistake, girlie. I was about to let you live tonight.” Freddie laughed manically as he moved swiftly towards me.

He went for a thrust to my solar plexus, but I evaded him by millimeters and instead threw a sidekick. This was easily averted by a far larger gap and suddenly he appeared behind me. Before he even struck, I sensed his left hand aiming to pierce my kidney. I blocked with one arm and performed a sweep with my right foot to trip him. Disdainfully, he was privy to this and jumped, dodging my attack and before my realizing he countered with his own as he swept a knife-hand strike at my throat. His strike landed home and sent an agonizing snap to my neck, where it turned about two hundred and seventy degrees.

I screamed as my spinal cord was simultaneously stretched and crushed though this, fortunately, was not enough to snap the vital body part. In response, I did a jumping back kick at the smiling bastard and sent him flying. This was confirmed by the petty sound of his mewing.

I snapped my head forward with my hands and viewed his body crumpled by the wall. I giggled in delight. I can win against them.

I ran again, this time to pull out his heart, but my outstretched hand never made it. Instead, I found myself pressed back against another wall.

Damn you, Smoke!

“We are not to harm one another unless given direct orders,” Smoke recited.

I spat at him.

He slammed my head so hard against the wall that I was dazed for a few moments. I soon realized my head was resting slightly within a newly formed crevice, where I heard grouchy murmurs from the occupants in the adjacent room.

“That wasn't harm?” I cried.

Smoke directed me with hostility. “There will be serious repercussions for your actions.” He stole a quick glance at Freddie, who understood what Smoke had left unsaid as he nodded. One moment later, both men had disappeared and it was just me left there with poor Snow White.

The fight was over. My tremendous anxiety had just started to fade, and with it the surrounding noises became as acute as a piercing scream. The two men's heartbeats, in their synchronization, had disappeared. In its place, were sirens calling out to every bigwig in the building.

Crap!

I took a quick ambivalent