Page 4 of The Nephilim's Touch
The Owner rings me up, and I take in the entire place again. The narrow aisles give me anxiety. And I have no idea how the place is taller than the building itself, but the shelves go high and there are those library ladders, just like in Disney’sBeauty and the Beastthat I’m always tempted to play on. I’m always sad the snack counter never seems to be open. The shop is a little different every time I come in, which of course is the nature of any shop. Getting in new products, selling out on others. The scent never seems to change, though, and it always brings me comfort.
“That’s it for today,” he says as I hand over my card. “You know, I’d take one of those feathers if you’re ever interested.”
I stagger back as I shake my head. “Nothing good ever happens when my feathers go awry. Not that I don’t trust you. I just?—”
He holds up a hand. “It’s okay. Read the book. I look forward to seeing you again.” He hands me my purchase and I give a small wave as I leave.
I swear my heart pounds out of my chest. My feathers in the wrong hands lead to catastrophe. My shoulders shutter. Every time one of my feathers sheds, something huge always happens.It’s like I walk through a portal when I exit the shop. My head’s on a swivel as I take in my surroundings. Hopefully, this time, it’s just a fluke. Hopefully, this time, the feather doesn’t mean anything.
2
VAN
What no onetells you about being on the run from another demon, namely the king of crossroads demons, is that you have two options. Go home to the demon realm and face the music, or go to the Hell realm and hide.
I chose option number two.
Do I get out of my crossroads duties? No, damnit, and it’s inconvenient whenever someone summons me, but I can take a few precautions when I’m back in the human realm. Wearing a medallion of dragon scale charmed by a Hellwitch to hide me from the king is my best option. Unfortunately, the cost of said medallion is being the Hellwitch’s fighter in the weekly fights. It’s a lot like those street fights in the human realm where people take bets, but ten times worse. And ten times more fun. At least I think it’s fun. So far I haven’t lost a fight yet.
The stench of sulfur and roses blends in the air. I’m bouncing on my toes as I spit out a mouthful of blood while I wait for my next opponent. The last guy was a seven-foot beast that looked a lot like Chernabog, that demon inDisney’s Fantasia, just wanting to have a party. You’ve seen the meme where he just wants to have a jam sesh and he’s the DJ, right? ButItook himout. Me! Little ol’ crossroads demon Van. I pound my chest as I wait.
“Whose next?!” I yell as the demons stare down at me, snickering like they know something I don’t. I’ve been here for a year, making myself at home and keeping Poe, the king of crossroads demons, off my back.
Just a hint of regret tries to fly through and infiltrate my thoughts. I had to leave my brother knowing he’s been in a low place for years. But do I have regrets killing a mad man and keeping my friends and family safe? Absolutely not. Drake fell down a hole of obsession that needed to be taken care of.
Drake was evil, obsessed with Lark, who he stole from the Fae realm. For what? Longevity and stronger magic? There aremucheasier ways to get both. I took the witch to the coven and since by then he’d been turned into a vampire, they said he was no longer their problem. Icouldhave taken him to the vampires, but instead I chose the dramatic route like always. I ripped his head off and threw it at the coven leaders. And for that, I had to run.
Crossroads demons are only allowed to kill during their deals. I still don’t get what the big problem is. Why does it matter if I kill someone that obviously needs to be killed outside of a bargain? It makes the world and the collective realms safer to just get rid of the bad guys, right?
“Are you all cowards? Who will fight me?!” I beat my chest again. My tail whips into a frenzy behind me and my wings fan out, making me bigger.
“I’ll fight you,” an all too familiar voice says behind me. I whip around to find Poe standing with his arms crossed over his broad chest. His tail is calm and poised, wings tucked in. It’s as if he knows I’ll fail against him.
I snarl as I charge. My razor-sharp claws scrap for flesh and miss when he teleports out of the way.
“You always had a temper problem, Van,” Poe taunts from somewhere above me.
“That’s because you don’t know how to be the leader!”
Poe scoffs as he pushes me away as easily as if I were a child. “In the three hundred years I’ve been the king, you are the only one that’s fought me so damn hard. Everyone else falls in line with the rules. But you?—”
“The rules don’t make sense,” I yell as I throw a punch to his gut, but he doesn’t even react.
“They make perfect sense. If you had paid attention to more than the magic class, you’d understand.” Poe’s punch lands on my diaphragm and I drop to my knees, heaving. “Stay down.”
“Never.” I spit and bounce back to my feet, ready to take him out finally. “If I win, I’m king.”
“When you lose, there’s a huge lesson you’re going to hate learning, but it’s for your own good.”
“Stop underestimating me!” I want to slap the smile from Poe’s stupid face.
“You’re entirely too volatile, Van. When you learn that not everything requires violence, you’ll be a worthy opponent in the King Fight, but until then…” Poe punches me in the face, sending my head back.
I stumble and trip all over my own feet. “What the?—”
Poe’s hands are on my shoulders. “Face it, you’re not ready. You’re too young.” He holds a hand out to someone who passes him something. “You have a month. Thirty-one days, seven hundred and forty-four hours to learn how to nurture rather than go off and be angry about everything. Learn to calm your temper, Van.”
I can’t focus. “I’m ademon. What’s wrong with?—”
