The Xoe Meyers Trilogy (Xoe Meyers Young Adult Fantasy/Horror Series) (21 page)

I crossed my arms and pretended to consider what he’d said. I nodded. “True, very true.”

Jason smiled. “Come now my little demon, back inside.”

I stomped my sneaker-clad foot on the hard, damp soil. “Half-demon,” I corrected sharply.

“Of course,” he conceded. Before I could react, he picked me up and threw me across his shoulder to carry me back inside.

I fake struggled, shouting, “I’ll burn you! Don’t tempt me!”

Jason paused and hoisted me up, getting a more secure hold on me. “I am well and truly terrified.” He easily held onto me with one hand while he opened the front door and walked us inside.

By the time Jason managed to plop me back down on the couch, Lucy had swept up all of the TV bits and was emptying the dustpan in the kitchen. Jason left me to help Max lift what remained of the TV frame to take it outside, where it would await a ride to the dump. Poor TV. I didn’t know how I was going to explain this one to my mom. I mean, appliances only catch fire so often. The toaster and the washing machine had each already met their untimely demise.

Jason returned to sit beside me on the couch, wrapping his arm around my shoulders again. Allison came to stand in front of me while shrugging on her fake-fur lined coat. She pushed her long, honey blonde hair behind her ears, then leaned down and kissed me on the cheek. “We’re taking off Xoe. Call me tomorrow.”

I gave her a feeble wave goodbye. Lucy leaned over the back of the couch to give me a hug, enfolding me in her petite arms and long, pin-straight black hair. As soon as Lucy backed away, Max gave my shoulder a comforting squeeze, and soon I was alone with Jason. For a little while anyway. My mom would be home from doing her Christmas shopping soon.

I snuggled up against Jason’s broad, muscled chest (not over-muscled mind you. I like my men lean). His hand lifted to stroke my pale blonde hair. It had grown long enough to brush past my shoulders. I was overdue for a cut.

I turned my head so I could look into Jason’s deep blue eyes, and I do mean deep blue, like the color of the sky just before it turns to black. I’d never seen eyes that could be that dark and still manage to look blue until I met him. “Sorry I’m so messed up right now,” I said quietly. “I just can’t seem to get used to all of this demon stuff.”

Jason smiled down at me warmly. “It’s a lot to take in. You are doing well, given the circumstances.”

I looked back down at my lap, feeling like a failure despite his encouragement.

Jason continued to watch me, being far too observant for his own good. “What’s wrong Xoe? I can tell you have something to say.”

I debated for a few seconds on whether or not I wanted to tell him. I sighed. Here went nothing. “The dreams started again.”

Several months ago, before my life went to hell-in-a-hand-basket, I had started having these dreams, and I always awoke with a fever. I dreamed of fire, then I found out that I was part demon. A wolf was in one of my dreams, and my best friend got turned into a werewolf.

Once things had calmed down, I’d finally confided in Jason about the dreams. The only other people who had known were my mom and Lucy. Jason had instantly come to the conclusion that I had a minor gift at premonition, and it had come out in my dreams.

Jason’s arms tightened around me slightly. “Tell me.”

“Well,” I began, “the fire’s back, for starters, but this time none of my friends or family are there.” I had seen my mom and my friends consumed by the flames in my previous dreams. “At first, I think that I’m alone, then I feel a presence at my side. I blink, and when I open my eyes, there is a man silhouetted against the flames. I can’t see him, but I somehow know him. Then, he turns away from me and jumps into the fire.”

Jason was silent for a moment. He snuggled a little closer to me, if that was even possible. “Do you have any idea what it means?” he asked finally.

I shook my head morosely. “Not a clue, but I don’t like it.”

“Nor do I,” he replied quietly. “Have you told anyone else?”

I shook my head. “Nope. There’s no sense in worrying the others. It could be nothing.”

He gave me a very knowing smile. “Or it could very well be something. It can’t hurt to have everyone on their guard.”

“But on guard for what? We don’t even know who the man in the dream is.”

“All the more reason to be prepared for anything,” he countered.

I pursed my lips into a pout. “So, in other words, you’re not just going to let me ignore it in the hopes that it goes away?”

He grinned down at me. “Like you did with me?”

I shoved away from him playfully. “I did
not
.”

“Yes, uh-huh,” he replied. “You utterly refused to admit your feelings for me until after we almost died.”

I raised my eyebrows coyly. “Who says I have feelings for you?”

He grabbed me and pulled me close again. “I’m a vampire,” he answered dramatically. “We can sense these things.”

Our banter was interrupted by the sound of a key in the door. A few seconds later, my mom walked in, hands full of shopping bags. She threw her bags on the floor and stripped off her khaki, knee-length trenchcoat to reveal dark-wash jeans and a dark brown, cable-knit sweater. Her newly shoulder length, dark brown wavy hair blended into the sweater so that you couldn’t tell where one stopped and the other began. She walked toward us and threw her coat across the back of the loveseat. “Hey you two, what are you . . . where’s the TV?”

I smiled nervously.

“Not again?” my mom sighed loudly in her rich, throaty voice. I like to lie to myself and pretend that my voice sounds like hers, but in reality mine’s an octave or so higher. Though our voices are the least of our differences. My pale skinned, green eyed genetics were obviously not passed on from my mom’s side. Our looks are on opposite sides of the color spectrum.

I nodded, while attempting to hold my nervous smile in place. “I think, maybe, we have like, an electrical problem or something?”

My mom put her hands on her hips. “An electrical problem that causes household appliances to spontaneously combust?”

Jason and I both shrugged.

My mom stared at us skeptically, then turned to re-gather her shopping bags. I couldn’t imagine what she actually thought about the exploding appliances. She had played it pretty cool so far, but her observant patience could only last so long.

My mom stopped to regard us again before she went up the stairs to her bedroom. “I’ll call the electrician tomorrow.” Then, when she reached the top she shouted. “And it’s 9:00!”

9:00 was my
boy curfew
, 11:00 on weekends. After that, Jason either had to go home, or if we were out, I had to come home. Jason reached up and touched my face, gently guiding me toward him. He leaned forward and met my lips for a chaste kiss. His lips were warm and soft against mine. I lifted my arms to wrap behind his neck, twining my fingers in his tousled dark brown hair. The kiss turned a little less chaste. Before I knew it, I had scooted onto Jason’s lap. His arms circled my waist and pulled me against him. I sank into his warmth, feeling my troubles melt away.

This was a relatively new feeling for me, feeling absolutely safe in someone’s arms. My dad had never been around, and as hard as my mom tried, she just didn’t really fit into the big, strong protector role. Up until now, I’d always felt that I simply had to protect myself. It wasn’t a bad feeling, but it could be lonely. In other words, it wasn’t about needing to be protected, I just enjoyed finally having the option. Our little session went on for a while longer, until I reluctantly pulled back.

I met his dark blue eyes again and almost dove back in for more. Sadly, I managed to restrain myself. “See you tomorrow?”

He gave me one more gentle kiss. “You could not keep me away.”

He was up and out the door in 5 seconds flat. It still unnerved me how quickly he moved. It was even more unnerving when Lucy did it, though she wasn’t as fast as Jason. I wasn’t very fast at all, and not for lack of trying. Hanging out with werewolves and a vampire all of the time had brought me to the conclusion that I was the worst half-demon ever. I just couldn’t compete.

During my reverie I checked to make sure that Jason had locked the front door behind him, which he had, as always, then I journeyed upstairs to my bedroom. I readied myself for bed in the adjoining purple themed bathroom, then changed into green flannel pj pants and an oversized David Bowie t-shirt. I sat down on my dark green comforter and hugged a yellow cased pillow to my chest. I was
so
not ready for bed.

I looked over at my computer desk with its backdrop of old-school horror movie posters, and contemplated surfing the web for a while. Finally, I settled on snuggling up in bed and reading my copy of Stephen King’s
Desperation
that Jason had recently purchased for me. There was nothing in that book that would be more frightening to me than my dreams.

When I finally shut off the lights, I gave a weak prayer that I wouldn’t visit any dark places filled with fire. Fat chance.

F
ire was all around me. I’d become rather used to fire, in the dream-world as well as in the real one. I sat cross-legged on a cold stone floor and watched the shadows of the flames dance in the darkness around me. I wasn’t scared, I was more . . . Peaceful, which was a nice change of pace.

I looked to my side to see the man from my previous dream was sitting beside me in the same cross-legged position. I couldn’t see his face, but once again felt like I somehow knew him. He held up one hand and snapped his fingers. A small flame appeared in-between his thumb and index finger, as if he’d lit a lighter, only there wasn’t any lighter. Flames reflected off his teeth as his mouth curled into a smile. The rest of his face remained hidden in shadow.

I slowly lifted my hand and mimicked his actions, producing a small flame of my own. I stared at my hand and smiled, pleased with what I had accomplished, though normally my powers didn’t please me at all. This seemed to be one I actually had some control over.

When I turned back to smile at the man, he was gone, and the fire was gone from my surroundings. The smile slipped from my face as I realized I’d been left alone in the cool, stony darkness.

I woke at 8:10am. It was a Tuesday, but it was also winter break, so no school. Hallelujah. I cringed upon remembering that my wish for a dreamless night had not been granted. My pajamas were soaked with sweat from the inevitable fever.

I dragged myself out of bed and padded barefoot downstairs for breakfast. My mom had already left for work, and had left me a half-pot of coffee, bless her soul. The cold tiles of my cheerful kitchen were a shock in my partially-awake state. I grabbed a blue ceramic mug from one of the maple colored cabinets and filled it to the top, foregoing cream. I stayed standing in my sunny yellow kitchen for a few minutes enjoying my coffee and looking out the kitchen window to the lush vegetation. This had become my Winter Break morning ritual.

As I watched, Brian came trotting out of the front door of his house, wearing light gray sweats with his short curly brown hair still frizzy from sleep. He paused and glanced in the direction of my house. I gasped and sidestepped out of view of the window, sloshing scalding coffee on my hand. I stood silently cursing, waiting for Brian to move on.

Brian had been one of my best friends, until I’d accidentally burned him with my newfound demon powers. I had passed out shortly after. While I was unconscious, Lucy and Allison had filled Brian in on everything: demons, werewolves, and the whole kit and caboodle. Brian had not taken it well. He hadn’t spoken to me since. I wasn’t sure if I blamed him.

A knot formed in my throat at the memory of harming him. I took a deep steadying breath, telling myself that I was done crying over the ordeal. I stole a quick glance out the window to see Brian trotting down the road away from me on his morning run. I grabbed a paper towel to blot the cooling coffee off my hand and the floor. As I dried off my hand, I realized that the coffee hadn’t left a burn. In fact, my hand wasn’t even the slightest bit red. Another Demon power? I guess it would make sense. I could burn other people without getting burned myself. Maybe I couldn’t get burned period. Had I actually gained a power that didn’t have any drawbacks? I smiled and headed upstairs to take a shower with a little extra spring in my step. Maybe I’d make my water extra hot, just because I could.

My bathroom hadn’t changed much in the last year: purple rug and towels, marble-tiled shower, pedestal sink beneath a large circular mirror. I turned on the shower and waited for it to heat up, then stripped off my pajamas and stepped in. The hot water eased tension in my shoulders that I hadn’t even realized was there. I started washing my hair with my new lemongrass scented shampoo, while going over a mental checklist of the things I needed to do that day.

First, I needed to go Christmas shopping. I had managed to save up eighty dollars of my allowance money for that purpose, since I don’t have a job. Hopefully Jason wouldn’t mind giving me a ride for said Christmas shopping, since I don’t have a car. I had also promised my mom that I would put together a bookshelf she had gotten at
IKEA
. My mom is horrible at directions, so such tasks usually fall to me. After all that was done, I was supposed to go to Lucy’s house to bake cookies with her family. We did it every year.

Once squeaky clean, I stepped out of the shower and wrapped my fluffy purple towel around me. I used a blow-dryer on my hair, which was an addition to my routine that I had grudgingly accepted after much insistence from Allison. And no, I did not do it to impress Jason. I wanted to look good for me, damn it.

I got dressed in a burgundy sweater and well-worn jeans, then pulled on my faded gray sneakers. I left my room and arrived back downstairs just in time to hear a knock at my front door. I trotted up and unlocked to door to find Jason waiting outside, dressed in a charcoal fleece sweatshirt (Oregonians are big on fleece) and jeans. He held a stack of envelopes and a few catalogues in his hand.