Acropolis (9 page)

Read Acropolis Online

Authors: R.K. Ryals

Tags: #romance, #fantasy, #paranormal, #young adult, #teens, #demons, #gargoyles

"I can't figure you out, Em. Getting inside
your head is damn difficult."

The water around us lifts, flowing back into
the sink as if it had never existed. Even my clothes and hair are
as dry as they had been before. I keep my eyes averted.

"There is nothing to figure out," I mumble.
Conor laughs a little.

"Oh, I think there is. It's the quiet ones
who think the most."

"N-n-no," I insist, looking anywhere but at
him.

I move back as far as I can before glancing
over his shoulder, my eyes landing automatically on the French
doors. A grotesque face peers back at me, its mouth spread wide,
its grin wicked.

My body is suddenly hot, my pulse races. I
scream.

 

 

 

Chapter 11

 

Conor

 

I think, when it comes right down to it, fear
is underestimated.

"Quiet, Em!" I say urgently, my hand coming
to rest against her screaming lips.

She is insensible, her eyes round with
horror. I know without looking there is a Demon standing on the
other side of my patio door. I don't look because I know it won't
come in alone, not into a house full of gargoyles. There are
footsteps in the hallway, more than one set, all on high alert.

"What the hell!" a groggy Roach yells as he
slides into the room. He is in a pair of red boxers and nothing
else. Half naked, Roach is not the least bit intimidating. There's
just not much to him. Somewhat tall, yes. Meaty, no. But Roach in
gargoyle form, that's another story.

I point at the French doors as my mother,
Will, and Rachel all crowd into the room. We are a strange bunch at
night, a mix of blue silk, Hello Kitty, and drawstring p.j.'s.
Frightening, definitely not, but we aren't angry yet.

It doesn't take long to assess the situation.
Mom barely spares a glance in our direction.

"Take the front of the house," Mom yells at
Will. He doesn't wait for further orders.

"Take the roof," I yell at Roach. His eyes
narrow. He doesn't like following my orders, but when Mom nods, he
complies.

Mom looks at me, her eyes meeting mine. We
don't speak in words, our eyes full of an understanding that takes
a lifetime to cultivate. She exits the kitchen. She'll man what no
else can cover. Only Rachel and I remain with Emma. Rachel will be
with me until the end of the mission. What she tells her father
will decide my future.

"There'll be more," Rachel says.

I'm well aware of this. Emma hasn't moved ,
and when I look her way, I see her face is ashen. Even so, her gaze
is focused on the creature outside.

"I think it's hurting," Rachel says in
awe.

I turn quickly, keeping Emma at my back as my
gaze finds the Demon. He's a large creature with four arms, four
horns, wide lips and pointed teeth. His dark, leather-like face is
contorted. Rachel is right. He's hurting. I look over my shoulder
at Emma. Her eyes are red. She is smiling.

"She's hurting him," Rachel breathes as she
walks to my side.

Both of us stare at Emma. She isn't moving,
frozen. Rachel pokes her. No response.

"Shit," I curse.

I pick Emma up, cradling her in my arms. She
comes to life, fighting me, her body suddenly active as she twists
in an attempt to see out the door.

"Jesus, Con! She can control Demons," Rachel
cries out.

I press Emma to me.

"
Some
Demons," I correct as I run for the stairs.

At the landing, I shout. Mom is already
there. Rachel is behind me. Roach appears at the top of the stairs,
Will is moving my way from the front of the house. Emma is
thrashing violently. The moon has her.

"We've got to get her to the Acropolis! NOW!"
I yell.

"Now? Like this?" Rachel scoffs.

Mom takes one look at Emma and nods. I don't
have the experience Mom and Roach have, but I know Emma isn't safe
here. I have heard of this, but I have never seen it. Emma is
channeling her mother.

"Go!" Mom orders.

I take the stairs two at a time. Will and
Rachel pound the stairs behind me. Roach has reverted to his
gargoyle form. He hisses as we join him. The trip will take all of
us. We'll be attacked. There's no doubt. Only my mother will
remain.

"Conor!" Mom calls. I look down the stairs, a
thrashing Emma beating me incessantly in the chest. Mom's eyes meet
mine. "Be careful. Kill her if you have to." Her words cut through
me. She's afraid.

I nod, giving her my back as the four of us
begin to run. There is a lever built into a room at the end of the
hall. It opens a large skylight in the ceiling. We run for it, Will
punching it before we all launch ourselves into the sky. There are
three Demons waiting for us.

I see Roach extend his talons, sinking them
into a dragon-like Demon above my head. It howls. They are evenly
matched. Rachel takes a smaller bull-like Demon with black, curling
horns and two hairy arms. It has hooves for feet. Will stays behind
me. The third Demon has retreated. It is outnumbered, and it knows
it. I wrap myself around Emma. She feels hot against my chest.

"Dammit, Em! Snap out of it!"

She doesn't respond, and I grab her by the
chin, forcing her face to mine. I don't know her, but I can't kill
her. I know this. I'd stood behind her while she talked to her
mother, had seen the bloody tears on her cheeks in the hospital,
had watched her shoot a ball of flame, had seen her fight the power
of the moon. She can fight this.

Her eyes meet mine. They are blood red. She
is a Demon. She is the daughter of Enepsigos. She is Emma.

She snarls, scratching me, and I watch as her
nails leave a red welt across my chest. I am going to have a hard
time fighting anything with her fighting me as well. I need to get
to the ocean. Quickly. Water is a sanctuary for gargoyles.

Kill her if you have to

My arms tighten around Emma. She is howling.
I know what she is. I hate what she is. I have been trained to kill
Demons. I still hate them, hate them for what they take from
mankind, what they have taken from me. They killed my father, took
Dayton.

I look down at Emma. She is going wild. But
beneath the thrashing, the screaming, I see it. Bloody tears. She
is a Demon, but she is also human. She has not asked for this.

I head for the Gulf. We need water.

"
Sssssssssssssss
. . . if they send the hounds, we
are done for," Roach hisses, his serpentine body twisting through
the air, his clawed feet covered in black blood.

He smiles wickedly and sucks on one of his
talons. There is more than one reason Roosevelt is called Roach. I
look at him, my eyes full of disgust. Roach isn't an awful guy, but
he is intolerant.

"Fly for the ocean," I tell them. Will and
Rachel are flanking me now. Roach moves ahead, his neck arched
backwards.

"You want to drown her?" Roach asks, his
snake-like voice rumbling with laughter. One day, I will beat the
shit out of him.

"We use it. We dive. We come up for air. We
dive."

Will looks at Emma. Her hair is sticking to
her forehead. She is sweating from the fight, and there is no sign
she will tire soon.

"She
could
drown," Will says softly.

There is no malice in his tone, nothing to
suggest he wants her dead although I realize it would be a relief
to them. She is a danger to us. She could get us killed, and no one
wants to die for a Demon.

"Yes, she could," I say quietly.

If she does, it won't be intentional. I have
no idea how she will react to salt water. I have no idea how long
she can hold her breathe. Although Demons can't be drowned, they
have an aversion to water. It doesn't hurt them, but Demon-hybrids
haven't been so lucky. For some, water is deadly.

We fly faster, the Gulf welcoming us on the
horizon just as a black cloud rolls in from the same direction. It
is a mass of Demons, possibly Hellhounds.

"Dive!" I yell.

Emma is moaning, her head rolled back as she
stares up at the sky. The moon suddenly breaks through the cloud
cover and Emma goes slack, her eyes locked on the huge white orb.
In that moment, she isn't awkward, she isn't unremarkable, she is
breathtaking.

"Emma," I whisper.

She doesn't look at me. I close my eyes
briefly as the wind buffets us. The water is coming up fast.

"Hold your breath, Sweetheart."

I can only hope she hears me. Roach sinks
into the waves. Rachel skips on the surface of the water before
diving into the Gulf's comforting arms.

Will looks at me, his eyes sad. I wonder if
he and I are the only ones who care what happens to Emma. I think
about her mother, the skinny auburn-haired woman who'd been ringing
her hands in the hall outside Emma's cubicle in Atlanta.

Will sinks into the waves. Emma's voice
rings through my head, her phone conversation with her adopted
mother still fresh in my mind.
I love you,
Mom. No matter what, I love you.
Emma doesn't have a
lot of people in her life, but she has that much.

"Hold your breath, Sweetheart."

We plunge into the icy waters just as the sky
above fills with Demons.

 

 

Chapter 12

 

Emma

 

I am cold.

Demons . . . power . . . such power.

I can't breathe.

Fire . . . blazing flames . . . I am
burning.

I am scared.

Burning . . . I am burning . . . it feels
amazing.

I am dying.

 

I am in water when I open my eyes, and I
panic, thrashing as I draw in a lungful of salt water. It burns,
and I struggle. There is no oxygen left. And still I struggle. I am
weakening. I struggle. I am slipping away. I struggle.

There are arms around me, vice-like and cold.
We are moving. I am dying. My world is going dark, the only sound,
a gurgling of water.

And then I am gasping. The arms around my
stomach are so tight, they are squeezing the water from my body. I
am still, choking, but there is air above me, water surrounding me.
Moonlight plays on choppy waves. And behind me, like a god of
water, is Conor.

"Breathe, Emma," he says. He is worried,
desperate. He is watching the skies.

I still can't catch my breath. I am cold, so
very cold, and I feel like I will never be warm again. Something
breaks the surface of the waves near us, and I recoil as I gasp. It
is a sea monster.

"Get back under the waves, Reinhardt," It
hisses. It is Roach.

Conor ignores him, his arms finally loosening
some around my waist.

"Emma, you've got to listen to me . . ."

"She has called an army of Demons, and you
want to pamper her?" Roach yells.

His long, serpentine head arches backward,
his beady eyes on the sky. It's the first time I notice the
grotesque monsters in the air. They are moving fast toward us. I
want to scream, but my throat is on fire.

"You and I, Roach! When we get to the
Acropolis, you and I! In the training center! Understand! Now, get
your scaly hide back under the water and let me deal with
this!"

Conor is angry. I feel the emotion course
through my blood. It is fire. It is good. Roach roars, his eyes
flashing.

"Dying for a Demon isn't dying
honorably."

With this, Roach is gone. I can hear keening
in the sky. I don't look up. Conor is forcing my face in his
direction.

"Listen to me! We are going to have to go
back underwater, Emma. Do you understand me?"

I nod, but I only feel half-present. I do not
know how I got here. I only remember the smooth taste of mint
chocolate chip ice cream. I remember being afraid. Now, I feel
fuzzy. I feel strong. I feel weak.

Two heads surface near us, Will and Rachel.
They share a look with Conor and are gone again. Conor looks up at
the sky.

"Fight it, Emma. Remember your mother, and
for God's sake, hold your breath," he whispers urgently into my
ear.

My mother. In my mind, I glimpse a woman with
dark hair and scarlet eyes. No, not my mother. My mother has auburn
hair. She looks weak, but she is strong.

I feel Conor turn to the waves. There are
beating wings close now. I can feel the breeze on my face. Conor
runs his hands over the waves, and water surges violently upward,
forming a twister that circles us then moves away. I hear
screaming. It isn't human.

"Hold your breath," Conor orders.

This time, I am ready. I fill my lungs with
air, and then I am underwater. It is dark beneath the waves. The
salt water stings so badly when I try to open my eyes that I force
them closed again. I want to exhale, and I fight the urge. My lungs
burn, but we are moving quickly, so fast the water almost hurts. It
is tearing at my skin. I can't see, but I feel.

The water temperature changes constantly. It
is cold, colder, warmer in spots, but never truly warm. I am
freezing. I don't know how Conor sees, but I trust him. For once, I
trust him because I have too.

There is suddenly air again.

"Breathe!" Conor shouts.

I exhale, I inhale. We are underwater again.
I am digging my nails into Conor's skin. We move so fast, I am
afraid he will let go. I am cold. So cold. I am dying from the
cold. I am tired. I lose time. Someone slaps me gently.

"Breathe!"

Air again. Conor. I sputter, then inhale.
Water again. The water hurts. My lungs can't handle this. I am
dying. I exhale underwater because I can't hold my breath anymore.
I open my eyes without thinking. Through the burn, the water is
suddenly red. We are near the surface, but there is fire above.

I get a glimpse of Conor's face. He looks
defeated. He cannot surface. His eyes meet mine. His mouth
descends. He is trying to breath for me.

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