Halfling (Black Petals Book 1) (9 page)

“There’s a reason why you’ve had trouble making friends in the past. People subconsciously sense your demon blood and instinct tells them to stay away,” he adds quickly. “It’s why you’ve never really been close to anyone besides me. No one wants to be friends with evil.”

The room is filled with complete silence for a long moment, as I attempt to make sense of all of this. No, no,
no.
This can’t be true.

“See? She’s handling it just fine,” Mason says cockily. “What did I tell you?” He sips his beer and scratches his head lazily. If only he could hear my thoughts right now. Handling it just fine my ass. I’m having a mental breakdown on the inside. Well, not quite, but I know that I
should
be.

Crispen comes closer all too quickly and grabs my hand in his firmly. I jerk my hand away from his and take a step back, backing right into the wall. Part of me wants to run, but I’ve seen how fast he can move, and I know I won’t get anywhere.

“When you moved into town, Blayk saw the ring on your finger and assumed that you were a hunter like we are. He created a plan to meet with you, get information, and then kill you. Only, he found out that you were human after kidnapping you from city clean up and taking you to his house that day. Demons can’t sense other demons, so they were unaware of your mixed blood. Hunters though, can sense when demons are near. Demons cannot sense hunters.” Crispen pauses again to let me process things. This is way too much information way too fast.

I hold up a hand as he opens his mouth to start again. When I don’t speak for at least a full minute, he starts again. I don’t stop him, even though I haven’t processed any of this yet. “Although Landon let you go for whatever reason, Blayk and every so often another guy have been trying to get to you for weeks. Mason’s been doing some research, and he thinks that Blayk might have some connection to your father.”

I shiver at the thought. I should’ve listened to Landon and left the city, province, or even country. I silently cuss. My father? What? Again with the coincidences, I’m starting to wonder if there are any at all and if this is actually all connected somehow.

“When I saw you wearing the ring, I too was intrigued, because I sensed your mixed blood. A halfling wearing a hunter’s ring...I was interested to say the least,” Crispen continues explaining, his eyes off in another place as if he’s deep in thought. He rubs his chins with his thumb and forefinger.  

So I was supposedly kidnapped by
demons?
Blayk and Landon are demons and they may be connected to my father?! Can it be true? Can everything Crispen has said be true? I immediately tell myself no, that it can’t be true, but, like I said, today I’ve seen the impossible, and Crispen’s story
does
manage to give me pieces to the puzzle that fit, even if it all sounds absolutely insane.

“You have no reason to fear us, Megan, we won’t hurt you,” Aria reassures me, her doe-like eyes bearing into mine.

“Crispen and Aria have been protecting you for weeks while I’ve done research actually, so quite the opposite,” Mason adds quickly, followed by a long drink of his beer.

“I thought alchemists made gold from mercury or something,” I spit out finally. I recall learning something along the lines of this in grade school. You’d think that there would be a more important question come to mind, but I guess I must be in shock. I just know that I have to say something. If I don’t, I’ll probably either burst into tears or pass out, knowing me.

Aria’s face brightens a little, some of the worry in her eyes dissipating. She explains that, yeah,
actually
they
were
known for creating things like silver and gold, and many alchemists did just that or
claimed
to at least, many were frauds, but the group of alchemists they knew was special. They were a branch off of the original metal-creating alchemists. This branch was made up of some of the surviving witches of the Salem witch trials. Years before the trials, they branched off from the original alchemists to pursue witchcraft in higher depths than merely creating metals. In 1702, after escaping the thirteen colonies with their lives, they arrived in England which was soon to be the Kingdom of Great Britain in 1707. It was there, that Crispen, Mason, and she were looking to avenge their parents’ murder.

“Our parents were murdered while we were out picking berries one afternoon, and we saw the culprits leave our home. They had dark, empty irises and wore only black cloaks. They were absolutely terrifying.” Aria looks bothered by her own story. A sickly look invades her beautiful appearance, and she is suddenly as white as a ghost.

She continues after a brief pause, telling me that Crispen, Mason and she were only in their mid-teens, orphaned, and living on the streets. One day, soon after the incident, they were at church and told a man there about what they witnessed. The man explained that their parents had been killed by demons. It was he who brought the three siblings to the alchemists.

I nod for her to continue, assuring her that I’m not yet lost, though I am taken aback. She takes a breath and then continues again. “The alchemists had watched throughout generations as demons killed off large chunks of the human population with disease, murder, and possession. Naturally, the alchemists had been working on a weapon to kill demons for centuries, and finally, in 1702, they were coming close.”

Crispen cuts in to add something. “The legend said that some sort of metal could do the job, so in the past, the original alchemists worked at creating metals,
this
is, of course, how alchemists originally became known for creating metals. Our alchemists, however, believed that any metal could be used, that the metal only had to be dipped in a fancy mix of herbs. They were wrong in their thinking that any metal would do. Through trial and error, they learned that brass was the metal that had to be used. The only thing was that humans were no match for demons, and it was next to impossible for a human to get close enough to a demon to kill one. So over the next decade as their abilities evolved thanks to a rather adept young alchemist, they worked on creating another weapon, an immortal one. By the time this young alchemist ended up finding something, we were in our mid-twenties.”

Aria and Crispen both look to Mason as if they want him to speak, so he clears his throat and continues the story. Apparently, the alchemists weren’t sure if what they had come up with would work. They thought that it might kill the person who they tested it on. It was a mixture of dangerous chemicals and things that a human shouldn’t ingest. “I volunteered, because I wanted nothing more than to kill my parents’ murderer. I was well aware that I might die, but I didn’t care. I woke up the next day, the first immortal to walk the earth. Well, besides the demons of course. I was the first real enemy of the demons,” Mason almost boasts. “Aria and Crispen too, wanted to become like me, but the alchemists who helped us were wiped out soon after their success by illness. A demonic illness of course. The demons who had been chasing them around the world for generations, finally caught up with them, killing them. Luckily, before they died, they gave me instruction on how to create more like me. They weren’t sure if it would actually work, as it was all theory and obviously hadn’t been tested. In the end, it happened to work, and Crispen and Aria joined me as immortals. The last of
real
alchemists of any sort, were wiped out around 1740 by demons.”

All of this information makes my head swell.  Crispen tries to grab my hand again. This time I’m too distracted by my own thought to jerk away. I let him hold my hand.

“Over the years we’ve created more like us to help us win the fight against the demons. We all wear these rings. On the front is our family’s crest, on the inside, our names. Each person who we make like us, changes their last name to ‘Ranchiller’ to protect their real families from demons. Ranchiller is a made-up surname that doesn’t truly belong to anyone. Darius Ranchiller, the name on the inside of the ring that you thought was your father’s, was a hunter like us. He was a good man, and your nasty father didn’t
kill
him like I told you he did earlier today. Instead, he did something far worse and turned him into a demon. Unfortunately, we are not immune to that curse,” Crispen explains and squeezes my hand.

Please, someone wake me up from this nightmare! This really can’t be right. Just hours ago I thought everything was normal. Now look at this. I’m half demon. Half
demon
.

I need a breath of fresh air. I can’t breathe in here. I know I should be freaking the hell out right now, but for some reason, I’m okay. I mean, I’m freaking out, but I’m not about to have a mental breakdown like one would think you would after finding all of this crap out. I must be in shock.

I pull my hand from Crispen’s and run out the door, needing silence to process all of this. Instead of waiting for the elevator, I race down the stairs and out the front entrance. No one stops me to my surprise, but I know that they’ll be watching me closely, probably from the window above the entrance to the building. Truthfully, I don’t really want to leave their sight after finding out that I’m being stalked by demons. I need their protection even if their lack of humanity freaks me out. They’re
immortal
. By the sounds of it though, they’re definitely the good guys in this. Holy bat crap hell fire.

I sit on a bench beside the entrance and sort through all of the new information that I’ve attained. I sit there for nearly half an hour, and I’m surprised that no one comes to drag me back inside or attempt to comfort me. I’m glad that they give me my space. I need it. I don’t leave the immediate vicinity of the building, because I’m not stupid, and I know it’s dangerous. I’ve seen for myself just how dangerous. I feel like fool. Has Crispen only been hanging out with me, because he doesn’t want me to die? Is it as simple as that, or is he really my friend?

While taking my time outside, I realize that I have no choice but to believe what I’ve been told, and trust me, if you saw what I saw today, you too would come to the same conclusion. I know that I’m not crazy, and I know what I saw today. I saw the impossible.

Someone sits down beside me on the bench. By their shoes and pant legs, I can tell that it’s not Crispen, Aria, or Mason thankfully. I assume it’s a stranger and pray that they don’t attempt to talk to me. I’m not in the mood for small talk with a stranger quite frankly.

My prayers go unanswered when the man beside me asks, “Long day?”

I keep my eyes on the ground and nod. “Yep, you could say that.”

“Ah, and why’s that?” he asks, not sounding all that concerned about me.

I really can’t tell him the truth, so I go with a vague answer. “Family lineage.”

“Humph,” he mutters, sounding like he finds this intriguing or humorous. If only he knew.

A few silent seconds pass, and then he sighs with much exaggeration. I ignore it. I assume that he’s expecting me to ask about his day in return, but like I said, I’m not in the mood for small talk.

“I’ve been sitting here for nearly five minutes waiting for you to look at me, recognize me, and then go running off screaming in terror, so that I can chase you. It would be more fun that way, to have a chase, I mean,” the man beside me on the bench utters darkly. I swallow hard when I realize that the accented voice is familiar. I was too caught up in my thoughts to notice this at first.

Blayk. Blayk sits beside me. I slowly move my gaze up from his shoes to his face. I make eye contact with the monster who kidnapped me weeks ago and made my life begin the all too fast downward spiral that lead to this exact moment in time. I cuss under my breath. It takes me only a few seconds to throw myself together and think rationally. If it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t be in this mess. I wouldn’t have had to find out that I’m part demon or that demons even exist.

“Why would chasing me be more fun? Why would you want to chase me when I’m sitting right here as an easy target?” I mutter, pretending to sound bored, but even I can hear the shake in my tone. While speaking, I say a silent prayer. I’m not religious, but if there are demons, then maybe there are guardian angels. Somehow I doubt it though.

“I always love a good chase. Humans are so easy to catch. They’re slow, they’re dumb, they’re run by their emotions, and they make rash decisions. It’s surprising that they’ve made it this far along the evolutionary timeline if you ask me.”

“What do you want from me?” I demand, using all of my power to calm my breathing and refrain from running. I know that I won’t make it far. How fast can demons move? Can I make it into the apartment building and lock the front door behind me? No one is around. The place is quiet. If he wants to kill me right here, he probably could. He could pull a gun on me or probably just snap my neck if he can jump through a second story window with grace.

“Information is all. If you give me what I want, I
may or may not
spare your life. I didn’t believe my brother when he said you were telling the truth about you not working with the hunters. He has an ability to sense lies, or so he says. I decided to keep my eye on you and then guess what, a hunter just happened to show up at your doorstep. He was wrong.”

“What information are you wanting?” I ask casually, as if this isn’t the first time that I’ve dealt with a demon. Maybe, if I play tough guy, he’ll get scared. Ha! Yeah right, Megan! Keep dreaming! You’re not going to be able to scare a demon.