A Demon's Kiss (Young Adult Romance) (15 page)

 

 

 

CHAPTER 23

 

 

Summer stormed out of Pikes with Sara at her heels and Logan nowhere in sight, so I figured she was safe...at least for the night. My babysitting complete, I headed for home. I felt week and tired and outrageously scared. I shouldn’t have wasted my powers on Addison, of course. That had been stupid. I was already feeling the after-effects and it wasn’t even midnight. I should have physically thrown the coke at her.
If
it was that important. Which it wasn’t. I had a guy chasing my very soul and I wasted my powers on a Barbie doll.

Okay, this was weird—walking home I suddenly got an overpowering urge to turn around and go to the docks. I didn’t do it though. Duh. Going there this time of night would be crazy.
Any
time would be crazy. Loonies hang out at the docks. Still, the impulse was almost overwhelming. I could barely fight it off.

At the most, I got a block away from Pikes when the impulse began to burn, sizzle. Within a few steps, it was like my brain was on fire. The message:
Go find Logan
was hurled into every fiber of my being. It was the only conscious thought I was able to grasp through the burning blaze. I knew what I had to do, go down to the docks and find him. But I really, really, really, REALLY didn’t want to. Still, the pain was too intense. There was no way I could resist. Every step I took towards the docks eased the pain, but even a slight turning of my head in the opposite direction hurled me into a fit of unbearable agony. Soon, I was running for the docks. My only conscious thought: Find Logan and end the pain.

Somehow he was able to lead me around like a puppet. He guided me through the maze of unfamiliar streets, down to the harbor. Once I reached him, out of breath and shaking, he stepped out of the shadows and I got a glimpse of his face. He looked discouraged, not gloating like I thought he would.

“Why do you fight me so much?” he asked. “Why couldn’t you just come without me having to hurt you?”

I didn’t really know what to say. If he hadn’t practically burned my head off I would have never come, not in a thousand years. But that didn’t seem like a smart thing to tell him.

“Look, you wanted me here—I’m here. What do you want?”

“I want to talk.” He stared into my eyes. “Just talk.”

I bit my lip, like I had a choice. “Okay—talk.”

“Come with me.”

He lead me down the pier, to a boat called “Michaela.” My stomach did a little lurch thing. Huh? Why would he call it that? I didn’t want to go on the boat, no way. This was all too creepy, too bizarre. Why would he name his boat after me? Why would he name anything after me? What was going on?

“Come on,” he said, reaching for my arm.

I backed away from his grasp, but I climbed up on the boat anyway, like he wanted, figuring he could kill me just as easily out here as inside.

“You want to look around?” he asked.

Actually, now I sort of did.

He sat against the rail. “Go ahead.”

I looked at him, kind of unsure. “No, really,” he said. “Go ahead. I’ll wait here.”

I went inside the dimly lit boat. To my surprise, it was warm and cozy, nothing even close to what I expected—not that I know what I expected—voodoo dolls hanging from nooses, I guess. But it was really nice, cool even. It had a tiny little kitchen and a bedroom and everything was made of hardwood and brass. I was surprised, catching myself thinking, I would love a place like this, imagining it would be nice to be cradled to sleep by the ocean, sail away any time I felt like it.

Soft music wafted down from the deck, leading me back upstairs. Logan was still sitting on the railing, only now he was playing some sort of piped instrument that sounded like a flute, but looked more like a harmonica. The music was somehow familiar to me. It touched my heart, made me want to cry.

“That’s pretty,” I whispered.

He stopped playing and looked at me. “You’re pretty,” he said softly.

I took a step away from him.

He watched me, tilting his head. “I didn’t mean to scare you. It’s just that it’s true—you’re pretty.” He got down from the rail. “You get frightened at strange things.”

“You didn’t scare me. It’s just,” I took a deep breath, “Why are you here? I mean, what do you want?”

He studied me silently. Finally, he answered, “What do I want?” He stares into my eyes. “I want you. What did I come here for? You already know that, right? I’ve come for you.”

In a way, yes, I already knew that. From the first moment I saw him I knew he had come to get me. Still, hearing him say it aloud was terrifying. It made my knees buckle.

I closed my eyes, my heart beating so hard against my chest it hurt. “You came for me?”

He nodded.

It was strange to be having this conversation, able to ask the questions that had been haunting my brain. But I was afraid to hear the answers, terrified.

“Okay, but...why?”

Nervous-like, Logan ran his hands through his hair. He seemed to be studying me, as though trying to decide if I could handle the truth. The fact he was hesitant about it made me pretty sure I couldn’t. I decided to take the question back. Save it for later—maybe forever.

“Never mind. I don’t want to know. But since it’s me you’re after—not my sister—would you do me a favor and leave her out of it? I mean just stay away from her?”

“Stay away from your sister?” He smiled, like he found the request amusing. “Why do you call her your sister?”

“She
is
my sister.” Then I got it. “Well, my half sister.”

He grinned. “Yeah, but not the half that matters.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, but I kind of already knew. At least I was pretty sure I knew. My mom was a witch...or something. She died when I was seven. I think she had magical powers and I think she put some sort of love spell on my dad. I wasn’t exactly certain of any of this. I mean, it wasn’t anything I’d ever discussed with anyone. But when I was young I used to hear Beth and my father talking when they thought I was asleep. The things they said kind of gave me that impression.

Logan studied me. “How much do you know, Michaela?”

“About what?”

“About you,” he said, making my stomach sway. “About where you come from. About me.” He stared into my eyes searchingly. “Do you remember anything about me?”

“You? Did I used to know you?”

For some reason my question made him look sad. “Yeah,” he said somberly. “You used to know me.”

He stared out in the ocean with pain in his eyes. I had no clue what to say. I didn’t mean to hurt his feelings. I didn’t know I
could
hurt his feelings. Until this minute, I’d only thought of him as a monster.

“I’m sorry,” I mumbled. “Look, I don’t remember anything about my childhood. It’s nothing against you. I don’t even remember my mom—not the way she looked or smelled or anything. It’s like I have a memory block or something.”

For a long while we just sat, thoughtful in the darkness, listening to the noises of the night, listening to the ocean. “Okay,” Logan said, breaking the silence. “I’m going to tell you some stuff. But, I don’t know, some of it might spook you.” He ran his hands through his hair, seeming frustrated. “I don’t even know where to start.” He wet his lips. It was a long time before he went on. “See, Michaela, you were promised to me. We took an oath—both of us. Do you remember that?”

I shook my head, pursing my lips to stop them from quivering.

“Yeah.” He looked thoughtful. “That’s weird. I mean, it was a long time ago—we were just kids—but it’s weird you can’t remember.” He was silent for a moment, then he went on, sounding reflective, “I totally remember it—I have dreams about it.”

I hid my hands behind my back so he couldn’t see them shaking. I didn’t want to start hurting his feelings again, but he was making me nauseous. Cautiously, I asked, “What do you mean I was promised to you? I promised to marry you, or what?”

“Promised to marry me?” He looked pensive. “Yeah, kind of. But it’s more than that. There was a ceremony. We took oaths—we drank each other’s blood. It’s like we became part of each other. Well, you became a part of me. I guess I didn’t become part of you. But see, I was supposed to. That was what the ceremony was all about—becoming connected.”

Yuck. The whole thing sounded horrible and psychotic. And he was
crazy
. The way he’s talking about it, it was as though he thought the whole thing was beautiful, a wonderful experience. Something we should feel honored to have been a part of.

I chewed on my lip a while, wondering how to ask my questions without seeming terrified. “Adults were at this ceremony? They let us do this?”

He looked at me as though I was mentally slow. “Yeah, adults were there. Everyone was there. See, it wasn’t just a ceremony to promise ourselves to each other—we were promising ourselves to the Caldronon too . . . taking an oath. You don’t remember the oaths, or the Caldronon, or anything?”

Trembling, I shook my head. This was spooky scary. I didn’t want to hear about Caldronons and oaths and drinking blood. Things like that reminded me of my nightmares. They terrified me.

“So that’s what you’ve come for? To take me back to that place? To those people?”

He nodded.

“No way.” I took another step back. “I don’t want to go.”

I didn’t care about hurting his feelings anymore. He was a scary guy and he came from a scary place. I didn’t want anything to do with him or his Caldronon. He could burn my head off if he wanted to, but there was no way I was going with him.

He set his jaw. “You don’t have a choice. Michaela, you belong to the Caldronon. You’re one of us. We’ve been waiting for you to come back.”

“Waiting for me? All this time? Why’d you come now?”

He eyed me warily. “I didn’t know where to find you before.”

I bit my lip, already knowing the answer to my next question. But I couldn’t help it, I asked anyway, “How did you find me now?”

“You called me,” he said simply.

I narrowed my eyes, knowing, but not exactly. “I don’t understand. I called you? How did I call you?”

He looked pained, like he didn’t want to talk about this. “You called me to help you save that guy—Gage.”

I stared into his eyes, my voice softening. “You helped me?”

He clinched his jaw. “Yeah, I helped you. What, you thought you did it by yourself?” He laughed a little, but it was a sad laugh. “Why though? Why’d I help you—that I don’t know. I mean, you love him, right? I helped you save the guy you love?”

I didn’t understand why it made him look so sad, but I nodded. “I love Gage.” With all my heart I loved Gage.

“Yeah.” He gave another sad little laugh. “That’s what I thought.”

I kept swaying one way and then the other. He was like the devil, coming to take me to hell, but then again, he was this really nice guy that I could possibly like under other circumstances. It was hard to decide which person he really was—good or bad—but either way I was indebted to him. He helped me save Gage.

“Thank you so much for helping me.”

He peered out into the dark ocean, like I didn’t say anything. “I made you sick, did you know that? I used your power and your strength to come here and find you. I was like, punishing you—trying to get you back for loving someone else.”

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