Donovan was half asleep when something tapped his window. Drowsy and unconcerned with whatever was outside, he ignored it until the tap became a bang. He jumped, threw off his blanket and hopped to his knees with his fist tight and pulled back.
“Ha. Homo.” Percy stuck his head inside and laughed.
“Says the boy beggin’ for a butt fuck.” He flopped back down as Percy climbed inside. “Why can’t you use the front door like a normal person?”
“Normal’s overrated. Plus,” he crawled onto the bed and curled up against Donovan, “what would Tara say if she knew all the wicked things I do with her baby brother?” He kissed Donovan softly.
“Um, ‘use a condom, he’s dirty.’”
“That’s Tara. And those were her exact words.”
“Wait, what? She knows?” Percy leaned away and bit his lip. “Shit.”
“Calm down, Perc, she’s not gonna tell anyone. She doesn’t even care.”
“Wow. I’d catch holy hell if anyone knew.”
Percy’s family was very religious; his father was pastor of his own, uber conservative church and ran his home with the same unbending righteousness. Percy had always rebelled, though not so far as to announce he no longer fit into his father’s plans for his family. There was no place at his table for a gay son.
“I know. Why do you think we’re always here?” He pulled Percy against him, kissed him. “I don’t want Papa Preacher beatin’ the hell outta his boy.”
Donovan’s phone rang. He growled and rolled his eyes.
“Gonna get that?”
“Nope. Same blocked number’s been calling all fucking day. Whatever they’re selling, I don’t want any.”
“What is it’s important? Like, maybe you won that all expenses paid trip to LA?”
“It’s one in the morning. How fucking important can it be?”
* * *
The dark-haired woman screamed as the phone flew out of her trembling hand. The spirit was angry and demanding blood, more blood than their deal promised. She had no more sacrifices to give and feared it take the flesh from those she loved most. She looked over at her son and choked on how much her mistake would cost her.
“I should’ve known better than to trust you. She pressed her palms against the wall as she struggled to her feet. “I banish you, banish you back to the Hell you slithered out from, demon-spirit!” Her voice shook but her resolve was solid. “Begone from my sight, evil thing and trouble us no more.”
The spirit’s energy rippled through the room in defiance and the dark-haired woman knew the battle would not be won easily. She raised a trembling hand and began chanting in her people’s long dead language.
The spirit pushed back against her power, forced it back into her with such force, pain enveloped her flesh like that of a thousand razors skinned her alive. The chant was lost to her screams as she collapsed back to the floor.
Her son set his empty eyes on her as she twisted in horrific pain. As the pain went deeper, burrowed beneath her mortal self, she felt it begin to devour that which was meant to live forever.
We will not return to the depths of depravity. We will no longer suffer unending despair. We will rule this realm and bring forth a new Hell, one which we decide who knows eternal torment and who wields the tools of destruction. And you shall be the first to taste that which I will bestow upon the souled.
* * *
The boy felt nothing as his mother writhed in unimaginable agony. Her screams of horrific pain fell on deaf, uncaring ears. When those screams finally stopped, he barely registered the silence. He did feel the spirit, though, and tightened up when it touched him.
You belong to us, boy-child, and we shall us you as we desire.
What little of his mind he still had was suddenly gone, suppressed by the enormity of the spirit’s unrivaled power. The boy did not like sharing his flesh with the unearthly creature nor did he wish to stand idle while the evil entity used him once again to bring pain. He did not know why he cared for the fates of others, even those of strangers, but he knew he had to find a way to stop this thing from hurting more people.
* * *
The dark-haired woman watched helplessly as the boy stood and walked away. She knew the spirit had him and feared what it would do now that it could harm the living. As an incorporeal being, it could only harm those alive who were attuned to such thing. Wrapped in her son’s flesh, it could hurt anyone it pleased.
It had enjoyed killing her enemy too much. It had sought out another and abused its orders. She had tried to stop it but failed and now, her unfinished task was left to those who knew not what moved among them.
Forgive me, children…
* * *
Donovan dreamt of frightening scenes filled with blood and pain and Death itself. Screams ripped through him, pierced deep into his being, as voice, desperate for help, echoed in his mind.
When he woke startled, he found Percy peacefully asleep with his arms around him and he knew he was safe. The nightmares had been away for a while now and he knew it was the anniversary of Asa’s birth and death that brought them on. The day ahead would be a hard one and it would be filled with many bad things but he felt that with Percy by his side and Cameron only a call away, he could make it through unscathed.
TO BE CONTINUED