AUTUMN FOX

The phone rings out. Why isn’t she answering?

It’s not unlike Raine to not answer my messages and calls, but it is unusual that it’s been days without contact. I’ve left hundreds of texts, plus a multitude of voicemails… and nothing. My thumbs fly across the touchscreen to leave, yet another message, with the added threat to pummel her if she doesn’t respond.

My shift finishes at Sparrow’s bar, and while clocking out, I check my inbox again. Hayes, the douche, also known as my fellow bartender, bumps into me causing me to drop my phone.

“Watch it!” I scorn.

“Sorry, I—oh wait, it’s just Harley the gnarly,” he chuckles.

I’m going to stab him. I’m worried about someone who isn’t myself, and his incessant, irritating voice, is like a rash that won’t go away. I don’t have the energy for him right now.

I ignore him, crossing the carpark to my beat-up, two-door shitbox.

“It’s a shame that Sparrow has just given me a promotion, because it means we won’t get to see as much of each other,” he calls out.

“Yeah? Well, Hayes, one of these days when you’ve finished being an absolute boot licker to the boss, you can come over here and kiss my arse.”

I don’t wait for his reply. I slide into my car, but even over the sound of me slamming the door, I can hear his rumbling laughter.

Putting my foot down, I hightail it over to Raine’s apartment. It’s a few streets over from the bar, the lease is insane, and her parents don’t know she has it. I insisted that she become my roommate, especially since her mum doesn’t like me. She thinks that working in the bar is going to cause nothing but trouble for a girl like me. I still don’t understand what she meant by that.

Inserting my spare key, the sparkling bow keychain clatters against the wood. Twisting it, it requires only a marginal amount of pressure to push the door open, and what I’m met with is disgusting. Raine’s place is never tidy, however this is absurd, even for her.

“Raine?” I yell.

I pick up the bags strewn about then just look at the half-drunk soft drink cans, the drawer that’s been pulled out, the scraps of paper torn to shreds, the empty chip packets, the shattered glass, the chocolate wrappers, all before taking a step and slipping in a sticky puddle on the floor. What the hell?

“Raine!”

My boots make tacky sounds as I enter her kitchen to fetch the dish towels to clean up this mess. Now on a new angle, I can see the huge puddle on her hardwood floors, and the skin its developing as it dries. What kind of liquid forms a skin?

Wiping it up, the fabric quickly changes colour, from white to red and the towels fall from my shaking grip. I stare at my hands, at the drying blood coating them. Both scenarios that swirl around my mind are as bad as each other. Either this is her blood, and something has happened to her, or she’s killed someone and is on the run.

I don’t want either one to be true, but it would explain why I haven’t heard from her. I mean, dead people can’t use their phone. Makes sense.

My heart is in my throat. I can’t breathe. I can’t see. It’s all blurry at the edges, plus the tears filling my eyes are making it twice as hard. Bile replaces my heart in my throat, and I rush to the bathroom. The chicken nuggets I had for dinner make a swift exit, and aren’t as good the second time round.

Flushing, I lean against the cabinets. At least there’s no blood in here. Wriggling my phone out of my pocket, I start to dial, then stop. I can’t call Raine, or her parents, or mine because they’re in a different state and won’t be able to help. I press the numbers to the only other person I know.

“Hello,” he says.

I can’t speak. I shouldn’t have called him, but I don’t have anyone else. The phone vibrates in my hand.

“Who is this?” he asks.

“I’m sorry, Hayes, I—”

“What do you… uh, I mean, what’s wrong now?” he sighs.

“There’s so much blood,” I tell him.

“Blood? What are you talking about?” I’m silent. “Harley, where are you?” I whimper. “Harley!”

“842 Greenwick, apartment 2B,” I whisper.

“Don’t move, I’ll be right there.”

He doesn’t hang up the phone. I can hear him mumbling, then his engine roars to life. It’s how a car should sound, and not as though the inner mechanics are full of pebbles, like mine.

I bring my legs up to rest my forehead against my knees. They were already wet from the blood, which now mixes with the terror pouring down my face. Hayes says something, but the pounding in my ears makes his words hard to distinguish. A car door bangs outside the building and rumbles down the line.

I’m quiet as he tears through the apartment.

“Harl—”

He stops mid-sentence, spotting me. His knees crash to the bathroom tile, forcing a wince to encapsulate his features. His eyes scan me for any sign of injury but comes up empty. Until he reaches my hands.

“Where are… how are… what did you…”

“It’s not mine,” I admit.

His posture relaxes, though not completely, when he sinks onto the cabinet next to me. Gazing at my shoe, he studies it. His brow furrows and it’s taking everything in me, not to punch him.

“What did you step in?” he asks, pointing to the bottom of my boot.

I can’t audibly say the word blood again, but that’s not what he is talking about. Torn, ratty edges of a piece of paper stick out from the sole. The sound has a new wave of nausea taking over my gut as I peel it off.

On the underside, something written. It’s smudged, and I can barely make it out, but…

TRY TO FIND HER BODY. I DARE YOU.

 

* * * * * *

Hayes gulps behind me. He must have been reading over my shoulder, but it doesn’t matter. I’m externally frozen, while nerves wrench around my insides. I want to scream, cry, throw up, except my body won’t co-operate.

He frantically searches the room, before getting to his feet.

“We need to get out of here,” he advises.

I shake my head. I can’t leave until I fathom what the fuck has happened. Yes, she was a little reckless, and yes, she was kind of careless with some of the men she let spend the night, but none of that should warrant her getting killed.

He bends over, grabbing my arm with every intention of hauling me to my feet. I’m such a deadweight, his full strength doesn’t budge me.

“What is wrong with you? You’re really going to sit there, covered in your best friend’s blood and … what? Wait for her killer to return?” he admonishes.

I don’t know.

I’ve known Raine since we were four years old. Since meeting in kindergarten, we’ve done everything together. School, university, worked at Sparrow’s bar, had slumber parties on the weekends. I’ve never been without her. I guess that’s all about to change.

Hayes paces up and down the hall. The blurry image of him buzzing past the doorway, is getting angrier. His footfalls are thumping, his face is reddening, and his breath now arrives in short, sharp exhales.

“Just leave,” I say.

His steps falter. Stomping his way back in to me, I rest my head against the cabinet door.

“You called me… now you want me to go?” he scorns.

“I don’t even know why you came,” I retort.

“Because you called.”

I blink. He’s never spoken with any kind of affection for me, let alone done me a favour.

“Don’t pretend to care about my wellbeing, Hayes,” I say.

“Pretend? I’m not the villain you make me out to be.”

“I don’t—”

“Shut up.”

He sidles closer, coming to sit within an inch from me. His breath mingles with my own.

“When you cry at the bar, do you want to know what goes through my mind?” he asks.

“That I’m just an over-emotional woman who needs to shut up from time to time?” I jest, but there’s a hint of truth in it.

He shakes his head.

“No. My heart squeezes and my lungs tense, because I want to know why. I crave to understand what’s upset you, and how I can make it better. Your emotion, your sensitivity, is the core to who you are, but it presses on me that it’s what makes us so different. The love you have for your family, your friends, your job, the damn butterflies, I… just once, I want to be a part of the things you care about.”

WOW.

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” I ask, well aware that his confession shouldn’t shift anything between us.

“Because, during your first shift, you told Raine that you were done with men. You’d recently broken up with some prick that broke your heart, and I wasn’t about to be your rebound, or the one you used to fill your bed while waiting for the right guy. I thought if I acted like a tool, then I could be…” he trails off.

“Be, what?” I press.

“Your enemy… if I wasn’t allowed to be anything more.”

I pause. Everything he’s admitting to makes perfect sense. The way he’d tease me about my clothes, my hair, but never my weight. Or how he’d poke fun at my bartender skills, but never for the fact that I’d cry when the customers would yell at me. There was always a limit to his taunting, I just didn’t realise it.

“I didn’t—”

“I know,” he says. “It’s okay.”

I place my hand on the crook of his knee, because I physically can’t do anything else. Hugging him seems inappropriate, kissing him is insane, and leaning on his shoulder it too intimate. His smile has a flutter going rampant in my stomach. It soon dies, when he nudges me away.

I quickly get to my feet. My head spins at the sudden movement, and I have to grab onto the sink for stability as I sway. My grip wavers, slipping slightly against the white ceramic surface.

Hayes reaches out in an offer of steadiness, but I snap.

“Don’t!”

He raises his hands in self-defence, I guess in case I punch him, and he backs off. So far so, he exits the apartment. Good riddance.

I pile a few of Raine’s belongings into my arms, then get out myself. Unloading them into the backseat of my car, I turn the key in the ignition. It clanks and clatters before doing, absolutely nothing. Throwing my forehead onto the horn, it blares for about six seconds, then dies too.

I scream. Punching the steering wheel, the leather skins my fists, then falls off the dashboard. Everything in my life is falling apart, and there is no one I can turn to. I need Raine. I need her to tell me it’s all going to be alright, but she can’t, and that means I’m on my own. I can’t be alone. I can’t do life without her.

Sobs catch in my throat as the pain closes in. It veils my entire body, making sure that not a single hair gets left behind. My staggered breathing becomes hyperventilation, and I’m beyond relieved when everything goes black.

* * * * * *

I wake, not in my car, but on a sofa. That’s not mine. Propping myself up, my skull pounds as the memories of last night flood back. It restricts my lungs, making every breath that much harder, and it doesn’t let up, no matter how hard I push on my chest. I’m pawing at my neck to alleviate the truth from my system, when hands seize mine. Hayes can see what he’s interrupted and just pulls me in.

No.

I yank out of his grasp, needing to rely on myself and no one else. His admission of the way he truly feels for me, has me not able to understand him at all. Pretending to be my enemy, is turning him into exactly that.

“Easy,” he coos, trying to subdue me without physical contact. “Harls.”

Harls? He’s nicknamed me? Either it’s been an ongoing thing in his mind, or it was established after he kidnapped me from my car.

“So, I’m at your place?” I ask, feigning to cooperate.

“Yeah. After I took off, my conscience hounded me until I went back for you. I returned to you flooding your engine, then I just watched as you passed out. I—”

“You were spying on me? That’s—”

“Creepy, I know. But would you have come with me if I’d offered?” he asks.

“Of course not,” we say in unison.

“Jinx,” he adds.

“Hayes, I can’t—”

“She was my friend too, Harls. Raine and I would stay late to do inventory at the bar. It’s how I got the inside scoop on things to taunt you with, and the boundaries I shouldn’t cross. Although, she did threaten me, that if I went too far, my balls would be Sparrows new tip jar,” he laughs.

I want to join him in the joke, but it’s not her voice, her sarcastic tone. My soul darkens even more.

“Okay. Where should we—” I start.

“I grabbed the things from your car, and—”

“Am I ever going to be able to finish a pissing sentence around here?” I scorn.

“Sorry,” he says, going silent.

He fetches the handbag I stole from Raine’s apartment and drops it at my feet. Rifling through, it’s full of papers, sketches, with the occasional gum wrapper. She never went anywhere without this bag, so there must be some kind of a clue in here as to what got her in trouble.

Hayes starts bundling the papers in his arms, scrunching them to fit in the trash.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

“Removing the rubbish,” he replies, sinking in his shoulders.

“Leave them. I’m yet to sort through her sketches.”

“It’s just scrap she apparently hadn’t discarded,” he says, sweat beading on his brow.

“Give them to me, Hayes,” I demand.

“Harley, it’s just—”

“Don’t make me come over there and take them from you,” I threaten.

I’m in no mood for whatever shit he’s hiding from me.

I steel my features, willing that he doesn’t contest me again. He scatters the pages on the couch beside me, on his way to disappear into another room.

“Are you going to tell me what you’re hiding, or am I going to have to read and find out?” I shout down the hall.

He doesn’t answer. Fine. He can have it his way.

Unfurling the top drawing, the harsh lines resemble trees, whereas the smaller scratches could be thorns, maybe. Flattening out more, they seem to connect. Lining up the edges of her leaden scribbles, they all fit, with no missing pieces.

Trees, bushes and thorns surround a cave opening in the forest, but it’s the light dotting of flowers pinpoints exactly where this is. Raine told me about it, it’s close to where we used to hike. So, why would…

They aren’t lines, that make up her sketches. It’s a name, printed on repeat.

Hayes.

* * * * * *

 

I palm the switch blade from the front pocket of her bag.

“Hayes Glassic, you owe me answers this second,” I call.

He slinks out of the dark room.

“I can explain,” he says, raising his hands at the sight of my knife.

“Given that you’re offering an explanation before I’ve specified what for, it had better be a damned good one.”

“You’re not going to like it,” he admits.

“That’s alright,” I say. He inhales deeply, closing his eyes. “Ugh, spit it out.”

“I killed Raine.”

* * * * * *

My stomach sinks, my heart races, my palms sweat. He’s an awful human, yes, but he never struck me as the sort of person who would hurt someone.

“You murdered her?” I tilt my head, working to comprehend if he’s lying. “And you call that a fucking explanation? Or is it just an excuse for some other bullshit of yours that I don’t understand?”

I pace his living room. Over his worn floorboards, and hideous tasselled rug. My boots catch my attention, still stained with Raine’s blood.

“Let me finish explaining, then you can yell at me, punch me, stab me all you like.”

He proceeds to fabricate some story about being cursed by demons. About how after Raine stumbled upon their hideout, it was essential for her to disappear because humans weren’t supposed to have living proof of their existence. They recruited him with the prospects of allowing him to finally succeed in getting over me. Once he was under their spell, they took control of his body, forcing him to slice and dice her.

“I thought I was just meant to persuade her into moving cities. It wasn’t until they had me follow her home and break into her apartment, did I realise they wanted her gone, gone,” he gags. “If I had known what was to happen, I would’ve told them to shove it.”

“Oh yeah. Because you’re so tough,” I scoff. “You would not have told supernatural, eternal beings, to go to hell. It would be fitting though.”

“My point is… I never meant to hurt her. I promise.”

I get right in his face.

“Your promises, your confessions, mean nothing to me,” I spit. “You carved apart my best friend to alleviate some bruised pride, all because of a misunderstood conversation you eavesdropped on six years ago.” He frowns. “I wasn’t done with men, I simply had no inclinations to devote my life to another pathetic, cheating, liar that would suck the life from me.”

I step closer to him, diminishing the space that was remaining between us.

“Now. If I’m to believe a single word of your explanation, I need something from you.”

“Anything.”

“Anything?” I ask. He nods. “Take me to her body.”

“No.”

“You said anything. This is my condition.”

“I… I don’t know where she is. They took her from me once it was done,” he confesses.

“Fine. Then take me to them,” I amend.

“What? No, Harley… I… you—”

“I, nothing. Take me. Or I’ll go on my own.”

I straighten my spine to stand as tall as I possibly can.

“I cannot go there,” he mumbles.

“You’re a slimy wuss, Hayes.”

I pack up my belongings, which includes Raine’s drawing, and shove it all into her bag. Throwing it over my shoulder, I stomp my way to the door, where Hayes grabs me. I swing my fist and laugh when it collides with his cheek bone. It instantly turns red.

“I deserved that. But you can’t go on your own,” he says.

“Well, I haven’t been left with any other option, have I?” I retort. “Let. Me. Go.”

He does as instructed, causing the last, tiny bit of faith I had in him to vanish.

* * * * * *

The walk back to my little two-bedroom house is dreadful. I kept looking behind me, in the hopes that Hayes would come through for me. Clearly, his feelings only go so far.

I devour a quick pot of instant noodles and a glass of water, while resting against my kitchen bench. The sketches stick out of the zipper, begging to be checked over, but I can’t read his name numerous times on the thing that signed her death warrant.

Locking up my front door, an ice-cold breeze, travels the length of my spine. It’s as though they know I’m coming for them. If only I had partner, or magic of my own to guard me.

Magic used to exist in abundance, but since the last war between humans and the magic folk, it’s been scarce. There’s been mention of sparks here and there, however nothing that would lead anyone to suspect dark magic was being put to use once more. I supposed the demons had good reason on their part to remove Raine from their radar. She would’ve ruined everything for them.

A tear slips down. I leave it there, as the last shred of emotion deserts me.

The tip of the cave’s opening is visible from the bottom of the mountain. My ascent is a lot less graceful than it could’ve been, but showmanship doesn’t matter now. It’s speed. One foot after the other, I climb this retched rock face to what is ultimately my doom.

Almost to the top, I slow my roll. I have been scaling this damned cliff for the past couple of hours and still haven’t got a plan. Strolling in, yelling “Yo, my demon buddies. What is up?” isn’t an option. Neither is just hanging here.

I don’t want to believe Hayes, but when a figure fizzles to emerge out of the pitch-black cave opening, I have no choice. They appear almost human, save for the bubbling, onyx shadow that waves at me. I gasp. Their shadows are sentient. What the?

Are demons more amicable in the daylight? They aren’t vampires, Harley.

 I flick the switch blade from my pocket to have something out in front of me. It shakes in my grip as I struggle to regain control of myself, because fear is not going to serve me well in there. Tiptoeing further into the open, I halt right behind the awaiting demon. He doesn’t hear me, nor does his shadow alert him of my arrival. It does wave again though as I kick him and his conjoined twin off the ledge. He groans, rolling down the mountainside, landing with a gruff oomph when he hits the bottom. I’m so high in the air, his disgruntlement shouldn’t have been audible from up here. A rustling from below me, has my throat tightening. I need to keep moving.

Approaching the entrance, it’s an abyss of pure, opaque inkiness. It ripples with a shimmer that almost resembles the rainbow that forms when mist meets sunlight. A dangerous kind of beauty, and one that I wish I could leave alone. My fingers hover, a hairs breadth from the veil, but there’s not a second for me to configure the right angle of attack.

A hand reaches through, grabs my wrist, and pulls me to the other side.

* * * * * *

Obsidian dots the inner walls. Its glassy composition doesn’t distort my reflection for a moment. It’s crystal clear, and winks at me.

Removing my focus from the rocks, I turn it to whoever snatched me. His horns thrust out from his forehead, then curve back towards him. Similar to a partially flattened crescent moon. The limb that is leading me, is so hairy, I’m not sure if it’s a hoof of some description, or—

“It’s not a hoof,” he says. “It’s a paw. If you’re going to think about me, I’d prefer that you have your facts straight.”

“Wha—I… I didn’t mean any disrespect,” I murmur.

He pivots, just enough for me to get a decent view of him. Shit. It’s the demon I kicked off the cliff. I’m definitely going to pay for that later. He chuckles.

“No, you won’t. I knew you were there, I just wanted to see what you’d do with that measly switchblade if you thought I wasn’t looking, but you didn’t even use it,” the side of his cheek raises. “Oh, and by the way,” he spins on me, walking backwards down the cave. “Do you understand how much effort goes into flinging yourself off a cliff?”

“I… you… you little bitch.”

He halts completely, making me crash into him. I squeeze my eyes shut, bracing myself for what’s to come. Cracking one open, he’s just staring at me.

“Are all humans as pathetic as you? Or are you some sort of special idiot?” he asks.

“What’s your name?” I ask, changing the subject.

“Why do you want to know?”

“Because if I’m going to insult you, I should have my facts straight,” I parrot.

He studies me. Scanning me from top to bottom, he sighs.

“Jurk,” he cringes.

“Your name is…” I taper off.

“Yes, yes, it’s hilarious. We don’t have the leniency for pleasantries, Harley,” he berates.

“Okay,” I whisper in my meekest voice.

He huffs, yanking me along. I stumble over the rocks that are ankle height, only to fully slip on a patch of tiny pebbles. Jurk catches me, which causes me to wince. His brow furrows at my continued silence, but when he sets me right, his claws retract from my skin. At the sight of my blood, he’s tearing his shirt into strips to tie around my upper arm.

Are all demons this sweet? I think to myself. Immediately, he shakes his head.

Can all demons hear into my mind? I ask, because it’s obvious that he can. He shakes his head again. At least that’s something.

We arrive at a cavernous space, extending thousands of meters wide. In it, are hundreds of figures. Other demons I suppose. Jurk doesn’t show any indication if I’m right or not, and I guess that’s a good thing. It’s better that I don’t know.

This far down, the obsidian encapsulates the interior of the cave, as though we are standing within a giant piece of it. The walls, the tables, the alter, all shine in the dark mirror. I’m heaved up to the platform and pushed onto my knees in front of a towering presence.

“Who have you brought me?” he asks.

“I don’t know. She was loitering outside the veil,” Jurk answers.

The fact he already knew my name, means he does know who I am, and he’s lying to his leader. But, why? Concealing my identity would buy me time, even if it’s not for long.

He kicks the side of my thigh, disrupting my thoughts.

“What?” I hiss.

“It has an attitude. Lovely,” the oaf comments. “Just like the other one.”

“Raine,” I grunt.

“If you say so. I only knew her as the sarcastic one, who met an untimely demise after attempting to discover us,” he says.

“Don’t,” Jurk whispers to me.

“I don’t need your warnings,” I say, getting to my feet. “Take me to her body?”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Who are you to be giving me orders?”

“I’m the one who’s going to blow this place to pieces if I don’t get what I want,” I say.

“With what power?”

My mouth opens, but I have to close it. There’s nothing extraordinary about me, I’m just ordinary. I get hay fever, I get splinters, I choke on my own spit, I cry at butterflies. I have no power.

I’m just human.

“Put her with the one she is so desperate to see. I’ll deal with her later,” he says.

“Zanzunik, is that wise?” Jurk asks. The man just bobs his head.

I’m hauled to my feet, and Jurk takes me to what I can only assume is the dungeon. Down here, the obsidian has a green glow to it. As though if I were to touch these shards, I would be poisoned.

“That’s exactly right. Avoid contact at all costs,” he whispers.

“Why are you helping me?”

“Because your friend and I met a few times, in the woods surrounding the cave. She was searching for proof of our existence, and I was endeavouring to point her in the wrong direction. But at every meeting she would talk about you, which is how I came to learn your name,” he discloses. “I don’t want you to share the same fate as her.”

He steps closer, removing the air between us.

“I’m so sorry Harley, for what transpired against her.”

Lifting my hand, he doesn’t move. I stroke the back of my fingers along his cheek, slowly and deliberately. He shutters, pulling away, but not before I feel the soft, cold skin under my touch. He nudges me into a cell, closing the door.

Taking his leave, I call out.

“J.” He refaces me. “I won’t use your name because you seem not to like it, but… thank you. For all you’re doing for me.”

“I just wish it could be more.”

* * * * * *

The cell is larger than I would’ve have imagined. There are benches, a bed, blankets, amenities, but it’s the steel bars that prevent me from escaping that are my nightmare. I’m trapped in a city of demons, where they are hellbent on deciding a price for me to pay.

I shiver on one of the benches, until I remember Zanzunik’s words. “Put her with the one she is so desperate to see.” I scour the area, hoping that it wasn’t a trick to get me to go quietly. It wasn’t.

In the corner, a body is scrunched into the foetal position. She’s still in her blood stained clothes, and every inch of skin that glows from the rocks, is marred with some sort of injury. Her skin is carved, her nails have been removed, her hair has chunks missing, and a few pieces of bone are jutting out.

“Raine, what did he do to you?” I whimper.

Hayes didn’t do this because of any spell. This is a mauling that one would inflict as revenge or to get information. He couldn’t lead me here. He didn’t have the location of the cave, but with Raine’s sketch… I’m leading him here.

“J.” I shout. “J!”

“What? What’s wrong?” he says, running in.

He checks me over, reaching inside the bars to rotate me. He probably figures I’ve cut myself on the shards. I tell him that’s not it.

“You can’t call me for every whim, Harley,” he says, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“No. I’ve made a terrible mistake,” I admit. “The guy who killed Raine could be coming. She had drawings of the cave entrance scribbled in his name. It’s how I found you, but he saw them too, and I think he’s on his way.”

“What’s another human to contend with?” Zanzunik comments, sauntering in.

“You don’t understand. Look at what he did to her,” I say, stepping out of the way. “It’s obvious that he desired the position of the cave, and when she wouldn’t give it to him, he did that,” I say, pointing to her ravaged form.

Zanzunik’s features scrunch, then iron out. He slides a key from around his neck, unlocking my cell.

“If that lunatic is coming, she needs to be as far away as we can get her,” he says, opening the bars.

“Hang on a minute,” Jurk says. “If this Hayes guy executed her, how do we have her remains?”

I stare straight at Zanzunik.

“Don’t blame me for this. Her body was abandoned outside the cave’s arch. We brought her in here as it’s the coldest part of the underground. On the off chance someone came for her, she needed to be preserved.”

That’s… almost kind. I glance to Jurk, who shrugs.

The three of us ascend the incline that guides us to the entrance, when someone links their arm with mine, and tugs me from my escorts.

“Miss me, Harls?”

Hayes.

* * * * * *

 

I strain in his grip, stomp on his foot, elbow him in the stomach, but nothing makes him so much as grunt. I don’t scream, because while alerting the whole cave to an intruder is my safest option, the dagger he presses into my ribs makes me reconsider.

“I always knew you were a prick,” I mumble.

“And yet you lead me straight to the biggest cave of demons this side of the Pacific Ocean,” he smirks.

I sour, grinding my teeth. Focusing all my strength into one blow, I twist, driving my fist into his nose. Blood pours from the jagged ridge that both of his hands fly to. Now free, I delight in kicking him in the groin as payback for Raine.

“Harley?” Jurk’s voice rings out.

“Up here,” I call down.

“Why did you…” he trails off noticing Hayes. “Who’s that?”

“The soon to be leader of this here legion,” Hayes squeaks. “You wield the power and intimidation that I crave to forge my own empire.”

“That would’ve been ten times more impressive, if you weren’t cupping Sparrow’s new tip jar,” I quip.

Zanzunik chuckles, as Jurk slips something into the bind he tied to my arm. The last thing Hayes needs to perceive is that I’ve befriended the demons, so I refrain from regarding him while he reties the knot.

Zanzunik waves his hand, summoning dozens of demons in the span of seconds. They scan me up and down, before switching their attention to the scrawny, blond guy who appears to be a newborn giraffe learning to stand.

“Bow to your new master,” Hayes demands.

Every single one erupts in gruff laughter. Jurk included. He positions me at his back but continues to hold my hip. My guess is that it’s so he can feel where I am during this encounter.

Exactly right.

He didn’t speak out loud.

I haven’t needed to, for you to be able to hear me. When two beings are connected, they can communicate using the mind, and our souls have been entwined since birth. It’s how I knew you were climbing the mountain, then when you were standing at the veil. You were always mine to bond with.

Bond with? You aren’t demons then.

We are, it’s just, demons have evolved in the past millennia. Not everyone deigns to suck your soul, some want to harbour them and keep them safe, ultimately, to… love. I can only hope that my deformities don’t make me a hideous monster in your eyes.

Not even for a second, J. But why tell me now?

I didn’t want to scare you at first. Except with this guy, we don’t understand what we’re up against. That rock I slipped into your dressing, it’s an obsidian rose amulet that will protect you from whatever he can throw at us. Being human, you’re more susceptible to harm, and I won’t have you hurt on my watch.

Thank you.

* * * * * *

Having enough of the mockery to his demands, Hayes roars. Bringing out an amulet of his own, Jurk goes still.

What’s wrong? I ask, mind to mind.

It’s identical to the one I gave you. Don’t worry it won’t override the power of yours, though his use of it with ill will, could severely lower our strength.

What can I do?

Nothing. Unless you could get it away from him.

He huffs aloud. Apparently, the idea was in jest, however…

Don’t. Jurk warns. I haven’t known you for long, however it has been enough to understand your willingness to do something reckless. And stupid.

Name one. I press.

How about coming here alone?

Okay, that’s fair, but if I can help save the entire legion, I might get a wish or something.

We aren’t genies, Harley.

Whatever. It’ll still be worth it.

Sidling past to shield him, I brush Jurk’s elbow. He snatches my wrist, and I wrench out of his control, feigning not to be cognisant of the way he touched me. With heartfelt protection. I’ve never had someone care for me like that before, but as someone smart once said to me, we don’t have the leniency for pleasantries. He groans.

I don’t bother trying to creep a path to Hayes, his unwavering scrutiny is already on me. I step out into the open, placing myself between the deranged and the demons. With nothing at my disposal but a dull wit, wish me bloody luck.

Good luck, H.

Under his glare, I barely make it two feet before he angles his dagger. Not in front of him for defence, but behind, as if he were about to fling it at me.

“Hayes, how are you going to lead a whole group of demons, when you can barely pour a decent drink at the bar? Give it up,” I scorn.

“No!” he shouts.

I flinch. Jurk comes up, pressing himself into my spine. His act as a solid support is working, though I would rather he didn’t jeopardise our position.

“Oh,” Hayes drawls. “You’ve become friendly with them already? Whore.”

“That’s enough,” Zanzunik announces, his booming voice carries over everyone’s dismay. “You may endeavour to take control of our cave, threaten my men, but you will never insult her honour.”

“What care do you have about her honour?”

“She warned us that you might be coming. Who shouts for guards, to alert their enemy of incoming danger?”

“A traitor who wants to escape,” Hayes accuses. I scowl at him.

“And how many attempts has she made, following your arrival into my jurisdiction?”

“Not one, since bringing myself here,” I interject.

“What does that prove?” Hayes asks.

What is wrong with him?

“Are you an idiot?” Jurk asks.

Hayes runs at Jurk with no self-preservation. Barrelling at speed with his blade now facing him, I do what I must. I fling my body at his, tackling him to the ground where his talisman shoots from his palm. He scrambles for the protection aid, however to my delight, he’s beaten to it.

Someone’s thick boot pulverises the… plastic? His amulet was a fake. I sink into my body, fully discerning that they were in no real danger.

“Put him in the cell opposite the body he desiccated. He should have to live out his days in fear that the same could befall him at any moment,” Zanzunik announces.

“Wait,” I say, dusting myself off the gritty floor. “Hayes isn’t all that bad.”

The words taste like acid on my tongue. I’ve lied before, sure, but nothing this distasteful and nauseating.

“You know him the best. What should we do with him?”

“Let him go.”

A small gasp spreads through the crowd as Hayes is released. He staggers over to me, where I deal a second blow to his already shattered nose.

“Rot in hell, prick,” I murmur in his ear. “Now, you may take him.”

I’m coated in dirt from the floor, which has gotten into my throat making me cough. Its hoarseness radiates a slicing pain across my chest and worsens with every new inhalation. Jurk is quick to appear at my side. Kneeling, he sits me on his bent knee so I’m not back on the ground, then loses all colour. I follow his line of sight to see Hayes’ puny dagger sticking out of my chest. Without taking time for proper consideration, I rip it out.

Harley!

I immediately get light-headed and sway on his knee. Gently lowering me to the cold, dirty cement, Zanzunik rolls up his coat, placing it under my neck.

Stay with me… please.

The whole left side of my chest is frozen, and considering I can’t move, I’d have to assume it’s in blood. A lot of blood.

“Don’t think like that. You’re going to be fine,” he says aloud, pressing his palms to the gash.

His voice is shaking, as are the hands that are working to keep me alive. He bears his weight down firmer, claws digging in. I can’t stop myself crying out from the sting, but that causes him to wrench away, and darkness to border my vision.

“Oh, shit. Stay awake, stay with me,” Jurk pleads, re-covering the wound.

I try to lift my arm, but it’s as though it’s made of lead. He bends over, resting his horn on my brow to nuzzle into my cheek.

“I’m sorry there wasn’t enough time to get to know you more. I would have enjoyed every second… of… it,” I wheeze. Tears well in his eyes, then descend his face, dribbling off his chin. “You were always going to outlive me, J. It just… sooner than we would’ve preferred.”

“Harley, I…”

I don’t hear anymore. I am absorbed into a pitch-black abyss, that has the same amount of light as the deepest depths of the ocean. Except, little dots brighten to sprinkle across the canvas, like stars on a crystal-clear night. Wherever I am, it is peaceful, if not kind of eerie. But the pain is gone. All that remains is a tender heart, from a severed bond.

 

* * * * * *

 

My breathing is steady, I’m not wheezing, my pulse is strong. I’m… alive?

Opening my eyes, I have no clue where I am. It’s beautiful, and very white, so it mustn’t be in the cave. All of that was real, right?

“Of course it was.”

Jurk’s winded voice startles me from the threshold. I sit up too fast, sending a splitting headache to encapsulate my entire brain.

“Hey, slow down. You haven’t moved in a month, you should take it easy,” he says, perching next to me.

“A month? What happened? Why am I…” I trail off.

“Alive? We aren’t sure,” he tells me. “After your heart stopped beating, I removed the amulet and positioned it in the centre of your chest. It kickstarted your pulse, but we weren’t convinced it would hold,” he admits, rubbing one palm on the other.

Clearly it did. However, there’s something else troubling him. I neutralise my features into what should appear as encouraging before speaking again.

“It’s okay. What is it?” I ask, unable to confront the core meaning within his statement.

“After bringing you here, I’ve rarely left your side. Many of the demons, including Zanzunik have also visited. The biggest bouquets are from him,” he points to the various vases surrounding the room. “They’re grown here in the cave, as a symbol of health, and thanks. The meaning varies because not much grows in the pure darkness below, but the sentiment still stands,” he blushes. “We all appreciate what you did for us, Harley, but you died for us. We can’t understand why a human would do that.”

“At first, I needed revenge on Hayes for killing Raine,” I seethe. “Then, I met this really nice demon who showed me a warmth that far surpassed anything I’d come across before, and that seemed worth protecting.”

“And now?” he asks, gingerly.

“I’d give my life to ensure the safety of your legion,” I vow.

“Our legion,” Zanzunik corrects from the doorway. “You’ve definitely proved yourself worthy, if you’d like to stay.”

“I would be honoured. Thank you,” I say.

“Then keep this on you at all times,” he says, tossing me the obsidian rose amulet. “Not because you need it, but just in case.” He winks, disappearing.

I’ve barely re-focused on Jurk when his lips find mine, and the instant they touch, my soul is home. The bond between us tightens like a taut piece of rope, stretched from my being to his to connect us in a way that terrifies me, excites me, warms me, but better yet, enhances me.

I glide my hands up his arms, along his neck, to brush the curve of his horns. He groans against my mouth.

“They are sensitive, and… innately intimate,” he says.

“What does that mean?”

“It means,” he kisses, then sucks on the side of my throat. “Don’t touch them, unless you can handle the amorous, beastly gentleman I’ll become.”

I fist both horns, tightly at the same time. He gasps, shuddering out a short, breathy exhale.

You’re going to regret that.

Oh yeah? Prove it. I taunt.

He seizes my mouth once more, not letting up until we’re both unable to catch our respective breaths. I’ve never had such a deep seeded want for something, or someone before, but J is changing everything for me in the best possible way.

“Oh, sweetness. We’re just getting started.”