Perennial (21 page)

I just scored my third Fire.

It’s the red eyes. Just like the Heater. I have to attack the red eyes. The eyes are the power source of any red-eyed beast. The Brawler didn’t have red eyes, so impaling its tongue was enough to destroy it.

The adult is still motionless and fading fast, so I wipe the yellow demon funk from my face, glance at my wounded hand, and scan the room for either of the two remaining Minis. They’re crawling along the wall to my right, the small beasts headed for the open window, two yellow bodies and four red eyes moving quickly.

I see it in my head first, an image of Blade flying through the air. Knowing instantly what it means, I launch the knife toward the two Minis. Blade spins through the air, a brilliant silver blur on a line-drive course with the two creatures.

The knife plunges through the left eye of the Mini closest to the window. The creature fireballs instantly, sending a burst of orange and red light in front of its stunned partner, who turns around to avoid the heat and starts crawling back in my direction.

Unfortunately, Blade embedded itself deep into the wall near the window.
Damn.
But then another image of Blade rocketing through the air fills my head.

“Back!” I yell, the word coming out of me involuntarily as I extend my right hand toward the knife.

Blade shoots out of the wall in reverse and darts across the room, the knife-handle landing securely in my bloody palm like a boomerang returning to the hand of its thrower. The remaining Mini stops in its tracks.

“You didn’t expect
that
, did you?” I smile. “Say good-bye, loser.”

I launch Blade toward it with an effortless flick of my wrist. The knife buries itself in the creature’s right eye so quickly that the beast doesn’t have time to move. The Mini screeches as its eye bursts, its body exploding against the wall. Blade falls to the floor. I reach my right hand toward the knife, no words necessary this time. Blade knows the command and launches itself from the carpet and through the air before returning safely into my hand.

That makes five Fires for Alix Keener.

Silence now. I swallow hard and stare at the wounded adult Crawler, my chest rising and falling rapidly.

“That leaves you and me, big boy,” I say, fighting through the throbbing pain in my mauled hand.

The Crawler has no energy. It’s just sitting there motionless, no life in its deadened brown eyes. I almost feel bad for it, but no sooner do I think that than its eyes flare red again, making me think it’s mustering every last bit of strength for one final assault.

“Bring it!” I say, furrowing my brow as I wave the knife slowly back and forth in front of my chest. “Come on, Crawler! What else do you have?”

The beast hisses and extends a front leg across the floor with surprising speed. The bottom third of the leg manages to wrap around my ankle and pull me off balance.

“Not bad,” I say, falling to the floor. “But it’s too little too late.”

I easily break my fall with my hand and drop softly to my left knee. The Crawler tries to pull my foot toward its mouth, but the creature simply doesn’t have enough strength to do so. It feels more like a toddler is playing with my leg than a demonic beast is trying to kill me.

“So long, you bloated piece of demon snot.”

I raise Blade as high as possible and bring the knife down, cutting through the Crawler’s leg with ease and sending yet another shower of demon ooze through the air and onto my glasses and face.

“Ugh,” I say, wiping my lenses and forehead. “I hate that part!”

The Crawler now has two stumps for front legs, and its brown eyes are slowly fading to black. I don’t feel the pre-Fire heat yet, and Blade continues pulling me forward, so I know what I must do.

Throwing from the hip, I sling Blade into the air with another simple wrist flick and watch the knife embed itself into the left eye of the nearly dead Crawler. Tremendous heat radiates toward me as a fountain of red and yellow liquid rockets skyward from the beast’s blackened eye socket.

“Blade!” I extend my right hand toward my weapon, knowing the Fire from something the size of a Crawler will be one of epic proportions.

The sound of the explosion is deafening. The brightness of the orange and blue fireball fills the office and blinds me just as I feel Blade land safely in my palm. The force of the blast sends me airborne and backwards. My body slams into the wall, knocking the wind out of me. Then I slide down the wall and land on my butt on the carpet.

I open my eyes to a sight that no longer surprises me. The room is quiet, clean, and devoid of any evidence hinting at the violent battle that just occurred. The paper blind covering the previously broken window no longer moves. I don’t have to look behind the blind to know that the glass is no longer broken. My right hand is healthy and strong. No signs of the blood and mauled flesh that existed only seconds ago. Blade rests motionless in my palm, as spotless and pristine as ever. I touch my face and feel no trace of demon ooze.

Standing, I sheathe the knife in my back pocket and stare across the room at my father’s desk and safe, thinking back to the moment I realized the creature wanted something from this office besides Blade and my soul. Walking toward the desk, I whisper to myself, “What would Face and the Army of Fire want that Dad has?”

I reach the desk and lay my palms atop the dark wood. Since Dad is closely involved in both the Perennial investigation and Mr. Watkins’s murder, maybe he has important information locked in the safe. My curiosity is running wild, and I seriously consider searching the desk and trying to pick the lock on the safe, but the thought of what Dad would do to me if he found out scares me more than the image of one hundred angry Heaters flying toward my throat.

My phone vibrates in my front pocket, bringing a well-earned smile to my face at the thought of William either calling or texting me. But it isn’t William. The text is from an unknown number and reads:
Come outside, Alix. We need to talk.

I walk to a window facing the front yard and peer around the edge of the blind. A dark four-door sedan sits in the driveway, headlights on and splashing yellow light against the garage. It’s not the Mercedes that picked up Aruna behind Zeppelin Coffee, but I don’t care for the vibe I’m getting from this car.

I thumb back a reply:
Who r u?

Seconds later:
Friends of Vagabond. You’re safe.

I infer from the correct spelling, grammar, and punctuation that this person is more than likely an adult, so I exit the office quickly and cut through the living room, relieved that Blade hasn’t started acting up in my back pocket again.

After a few deep breaths in the foyer, I decide to step out onto the porch. I stare at the car, unable to see through the windows due to the obnoxious headlight glare. As if sensing my reluctance to come closer, the driver kills the headlights, but leaves the engine running. The passenger window powers down, revealing a man who won’t look at me but does offer a nod and a friendly wave. I can’t see the driver, so I leave the porch and walk toward the car, putting total faith in Blade’s lack of movement as an indicator that I’m safe.

The driver turns out to be a stunning woman with long, dark hair and matching dark eyes. The man is handsome in a clean-cut, military kind of way, his brown hair closely cropped, brown eyes staring straight ahead at the garage as if he doesn’t want me to see the other side of his face. They’re in their late twenties or early thirties at most, the two of them wearing crisp dark suits that reinforce my hunch that they’re affiliated in some way with either the US government or military. Maybe both.

“How did you get my number?” I say, crouching a few feet away from the open passenger window to see both of them.

The man still won’t look at me, but the woman does, raising her eyebrows and saying, “Really, Alix? With everything you’ve seen and know, do you really find it surprising that we have your phone number?”

“And address,” the man says, smiling but not offering eye contact.

“Fine,” I say, shaking my head. “I get it. Who are you, and what do you want?”

“We’re from the Group,” the woman says, sporting a slight smile.

“Vagabond’s Group,” I say.

“Correct,” she says.

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

“Has your knife moved at all since I texted?” She smiles and exchanges a glance with her partner.

“Okay,” I say, nodding. “What powers do you have?”

“I’m afraid it’s not like that,” she says. “We don’t have the abilities that you, London, Roman, and the others possess.” She pauses and looks at her partner again, who nods. It’s as if she needs permission from him to reveal certain things. “We’re simply two normal people, Alix,” she continues. “We can’t see Fire or Light, but we know about them, and we know how vital people like you are when it comes to preserving order and protecting all that’s good in the world.”

“Great,” I say, and roll my eyes. “Why are you here? I haven’t even passed the test yet.”

She looks at him again. He nods.

“Vagabond suggested we stop by and say hello,” she says. “He thinks very highly of you, which means we think highly of you as well. We rarely see Vagabond, but we work closely with him. We watch over the Group on this side.” She shrugs. “Think of us as a big brother and big sister.”

For some reason that makes me laugh.

“I don’t even know your names, and you expect me to think of you as family?”

She doesn’t respond.

“Why won’t he look at me?” I nod toward her partner.

“Don’t worry about him,” she says. “He’s shy.”

“Right,” I say. “Shy.”

“She’s right, Alix,” he says. “I’m a teddy bear once you get to know me.”

“Somehow I doubt that.”

“Listen,” the woman says, “we’re here to show our faces and wish you good luck in Oval City tomorrow. If things go your way—”

“Which they will,” he interrupts.

“Right,” the woman says, giving him a look. “Which they will.” She clears her throat. “Anyway, Alix, you’re curious about the Group. Don’t deny that. Nobody can force you to join, but trust me when I say that the Group needs you. We face more threats at the current moment than at any other time since I’ve been involved with the Group.”

“This is true,” the man says. “It’s a terrifying time to be a good human.”

“Fire is closing in more and more with each passing day,” she says. “Think about all the evil things happening in the world right now. You know how it works. We know Vagabond told you. Demons possess. Possession triggers evil. What Vagabond didn’t say is that Fire is winning. Perennial is merely one hurdle of many, but you’re the Light that can extinguish Perennial and its Fire. There aren’t many of you out there, which is why we recruit the hell out of you when we find you.”

“Did he tell you about my mom?” I ask. “About getting to speak with her if I pass the test?”

“He should never have done that,” the man says. “Stupid move on his part. By offering your mother, Vagabond drastically reduced the odds of you joining us.”

“Actually,” the woman says, “a semi-desperate move like that shows how much he
wants
you with us.” She pauses. “Let me ask you a question, Alix. You have rare powers that can save countless innocent lives and keep people safe from evil. True, your life will never be the same if you join us, but hasn’t it dawned on you that fighting Fire is your true destiny?”

“Don’t pretend like you know me,” I say, glaring at them. “I’m not doing this to gain entry into some special little group. I never asked for any of this. Mr. Shy Guy here is correct. I only committed to the test when Vagabond offered contact with my mom. I’ll solve William’s murder and destroy Face and everything associated with Perennial, but I’m not doing it to prove myself to Vagabond, you, or anybody else. I’m doing it to see my mom again. Understand?”

They shrug but don’t say anything, their silence only adding to my growing frustration.

“Let me ask
you
some questions,” I say. “Have either of you ever pinned a Brawler’s hideous tongue to the floor of your own living room and watched it explode before your eyes?” They don’t say anything. “Have you ever plunged a knife through the demonic red eye of a Heater?” They remain silent. “How about something the size of a Crawler and its wicked little Mini-Crawlers? Ever destroyed either of those? Ever been sprayed with yellow demon snot, or soaked with red-eye guts?” I realize I’m yelling now. “Do you think I enjoy this?” I pull Blade out and show them the knife. “Do you think I enjoy killing things?”

“You’re asking the wrong people,” the man says calmly.

“You’re also forgetting one important question,” the woman says, her eyes twinkling.

“And what might that be?” I say, sheathing Blade and privately cursing myself for getting so emotional in front of people I don’t know.

“Love,” she says, smiling. “Aren’t you going to ask us if we’ve ever been in love with somebody?”

“Love,” the man says. “The first one never goes away.”

“Well, unless there’s some sort of deadline involved,” the woman adds, giving me a wink. Then she looks away and starts the engine.

I stand there, confused and surprised. Was she referencing tomorrow night’s deadline for me to solve William’s murder, or does she know about William secretly crossing over to become Lewis Wilde for a few days?

As the woman slowly backs the car out of the driveway, the man finally looks at me. He’s even more attractive now and reminds me of one of those older guys you see in deodorant or underwear ads.

“You might not believe this, but we didn’t come here to upset you, Alix Keener,” he says. “Like my partner said, we came to say hello and wish you good luck. But remember this: nobody can have it all.”

I clench my fists and follow the sedan down the driveway, watching closely as it heads down a dark, quiet Maple Grove Street. The license plate is white with bold blue letters and numbers. I see “U.S. Government” centered along the top, and “For Official Use Only” centered below the plate number. There’s a barely detectable light-blue American flag on the background of the plate, but seeing it gives me neither feelings of patriotism nor security. Instead, I feel fear, a rippling and intense fear at the thought of spending the rest of my life as a professional killer under the supervision of a top-secret government agency devoted to destroying demons and the hellish evil they create.