Dark Descent Page 8

  “Everyone who trains to be a Natural has to be tested.”

  We stopped outside an ominous-looking door, but he didn’t reach for the handle. Instead, he turned towards me. “Tell them about your meds.”

  “Why? I don’t see what that’s got to do with anything.” I’d debated it, but after talking with those other Naturals, I decided to keep as much to myself as possible. I didn’t want to get rostered on the rumour mill if I could avoid it. Who knew how long I’d be stuck here. I suppose it all depends on what they find in their fancy tests.

  “It could be blocking your abilities.”

  “If I have any at all,” I muttered, “which I doubt.”

  “You have something,” Wilder declared.

  “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. I haven’t taken any in days. I’m wide open.”

  “And you don’t feel any different?”

  “Hmm, let me see.” I gestured around me. “Two days ago, I was just a socially awkward mental case, and today, I’m standing in an invisible building full of demon hunters, but thanks for asking.”

  “You’re welcome.” He smirked, and the urge to slap him rose again.

  “Wilder…” He turned and raised an eyebrow. “Those other Naturals…”

  “I know what they say about me,” he stated. “And I don’t give two flying fu—”

  “Wilder,” Greer said, stepping out of the room, “that’s enough.”

  I glanced at him, an unexpected wave of panic bubbling in my gut.

  “You’ll be fine, Purples,” he said, inclining his head. “You don’t need me, you made that clear the other night.”

  The other night? He must mean the spider demon. I stared after him as he spun on his heel and stalked away, his boots thumping against the carpet.

  “Scarlett.”

  I turned back to Greer, who was holding the door open for me. “Why isn’t he allowed to come?”

  “Wilder’s involvement at the Sanctum is governed under a strict set of guidelines. They do not extend here.”

  “Oh…” Looking back down the corridor, I saw that he’d already disappeared.

  Stepping inside the room, I swallowed hard when I saw a scary-looking chair in the middle of what looked like one of those Victorian-era operating theatres I saw at a museum once. The restraints were bad enough on their own, but the bench seating? Whatever happened here was a spectator sport.

  “I understand you’ve already met Brax and Ramona,” Greer said, gesturing to the other people waiting. “This is Aldrich. Along with Brax and myself, we make up the governing council for the London Sanctum. Ramona is the head of our medical team.”

  “There’s more than one Sanctum?”

  She smiled, gesturing for me to sit on the scary-looking chair. “Many more. Demons know no bounds, and neither do we.”

  I eased onto the chair, eyeing the restraints, but no one made a move to put them on me. It alleviated my stress slightly to know there might not be any agonised thrashing in my near future.

  “How are you feeling?” the man Greer had introduced as Aldrich asked. He had kind eyes and a fatherly presence about him that made me ease back into the scary chair.

  “Tired. Overwhelmed. Pick your adjective,” I replied.

  He smiled, his eyes crinkling with thready crow’s feet. I wondered how old he was, though he certainly looked older than anyone else I’d seen around here.

  “Discovering another world existing alongside the one you already know is much to take in,” he agreed. “Not to mention the adventures you’ve had.”

  “I’m not sure adventure is the right word.”

  Brax snorted and leaned back in his chair. I decided I didn’t like him, and it wasn’t all about the way he’d greeted Wilder and I when we’d first arrived. No, Brax had a look on his face that said it all—old-school way of thinking, disapproval at having humans in their secret Natural hidey-hole, possible dislike of women who have any hint of a backbone. The list went on.

  “What we want to do today,” Greer began as she folded gracefully onto her chair, “is determine the source of your apparent ability, and why the Infernal was so interested in you.”

  I nodded, already knowing the overlying reason I was sitting in the scary chair. Though I was wary of the underlying motives for the poking and prodding. I didn’t know this world, which made the three people in front of me very dangerous and unpredictable. I felt like I owed a little to Ramona since she had saved Jackson’s soul and all.

  “The scar on your face,” Brax began, cutting right to the chase.

  “I don’t know how I got it,” I replied before the question could go any further. “It’s something I’ve always had.”

  “There’s no way of discerning what made the mark,” Ramona verified. “It’s too old to scry.”

  “Scry?” I asked. “What’s that?”

  “It’s a technique used to determine how a wound was made,” the doctor explained. “In some cases, the information can be invaluable for treatment.”

  I wasn’t keen to learn about what nasty demon-like creatures required specialised medicines, so I let it slide. They couldn’t tell me anything about my scar anyway.

  “You mentioned that you don’t remember your parents,” Greer said. “How old were you when they died?”

  “What do they have to do with this?” I asked, squirming in the chair.

  “In most cases, Light is inherited, but as you know—”

  “I wasn’t made,” I declared. “I haven’t been experimented on or whatever. I’m just normal.” My whine sounded lame, even to me.

  “Your abilities have come from somewhere,” Aldrich said. “We’re merely attempting to find the cause. We’re not trying to harm or humiliate, but to help you, Scarlett.” He knelt before me and smiled, his eyes warm. “Anything you could tell us could help determine why the Infernal targeted you.”

  The line between trust and answers was so fine that I was having trouble keeping on one side or the other.

  “I… I have dreams,” I began, my throat constricting, “of my parents.”

  “What are in these dreams?”

  “I… I must be three or four years old. My mother asked me to hide…” I glanced at Greer, who nodded. “I was in a box, and it was dark… so dark.”

  “Then what happened?”

  I shook my head, the image of my dead parents too confronting. My eyes began to fill with tears and all I wanted to do was crawl back into that box. It was dark, safe, and nothing could get in. The recollection always brought me to my knees, like their death was my defining moment. My breath caught and my throat twisted and burned, my eyes filled with tears.

  “Scarlett…” Aldrich soothed, “can you tell us what happened next?”

  “There were sounds,” I said haltingly. “Thumps, cries… Then the lid opened. There was a man I’d never seen before. His eyes were white and his teeth… they seemed to go on forever. Sets of razor-sharp points over sets of more razor-sharp points. He lifted me out…” I glanced at them, hesitating. What happened next was a purple flash of light. What it did, I didn’t know, but I knew it was linked to the colour Wilder’s arondight blade had ignited with when I’d activated it. He hadn’t seemed to mention it to anyone, and I was loathed to as well.

  “And?” Aldrich prodded.

  “Nothing,” I replied. “Then nothing.”

  “Scarlett, I believe you just described what we call a Balan,” Brax said.

  “I don’t know what that is.”

  “A Balan is a greater demon with the power to take on a human form without the aid of possession,” Greer said looking thoughtful.

  “But I…” I swallowed hard, then tried again. “But I’ve never seen a demon or anything until the other night. Wilder tried to wipe my memory three times and it didn’t work. If I’d seen something like that before, it’d stand to reason I’d remember, right? Of course, my memory is sketchy back when I was a kid. Who knows if it’s real or just the stylings of a fo
ur-year-old’s overactive imagination? I always thought my dreams weren’t real.”

  “She has a point,” Brax said.

  “What do you mean, you thought your dreams weren’t real?” Aldrich asked.

  “I…” Wilder’s words came back to me. Tell them about the meds. “I take pills. For my hallucinations, my mood… I have for most of my life.”

  Brax humphed and Greer’s eyebrows rose.

  “It’s possible the human medication has blocked any ability she might have,” Ramona said. “When was your last dosage?”

  “A few days ago,” I replied warily.

  “I suggest we test her,” Ramona said to the others. “We can extend the delve for immunity and blocks, as well as a standard Light test.”

  Greer nodded. “Proceed.”

  My heart leapt into my throat as the chair began to recline. It didn’t stop until I was lying flat on my back and all those scary thoughts I’d had about having my chest cracked open flooded back.

  I watched Ramona’s every move as she turned and picked up a strange silver device from a tray and slipped it onto her hand. It appeared to be a shiny round disk, with loops on the back for her fingers to slip through. The metal fit snugly into her palm as she held it over me.

  I was offered zero explanation as she began to move it along my body. The device never once touched me, her hand hovering strangely in the air. After a moment, I fancied I felt something. A hum ringing in my ears and a slight vibration through my fingertips.

  A jolt of electricity zapped through me and I gasped, unprepared for the abrupt jolt. My thoughts muddled and my awareness shifted.

  Mummy! Daddy!

  Shut up, you little brat.

  The voices echoed through my mind, the world tinged with rings of purple.

  “There’s no sign of demonic tampering,” Ramona confirmed, her voice echoing from someplace far away. “And she indeed possesses Light, though it’s been subdued. It’s most likely due to the medication she’s been taking, but I can’t confirm that until her system is completely clear.”

  “What did you do to me?” I asked as my wits started to come back. It felt like I’d been out for only a second, but it must’ve been a while. Whatever that little silver disc was packed a punch.

  “The disorientation is normal,” Ramona said to me. “It will past in a few moments.”

  “Tell her,” Aldrich commanded.

  “I believe you were never ill, Scarlett,” Ramona said, dropping some of her surliness. “What your doctors thought was a mental condition, was merely your Light manifesting. Without anyone to guide you, it was a logical conclusion.”

  “You mean…?” I didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, or ask for another round of pills to stop the hallucinations from spreading to my lymph nodes.

  “There’s nothing wrong with you,” she said as the chair came back up. “And there never was. Apart from a strange immunity to some forms of Light manipulation, I don’t see any medical reason you should continue to take those pills. I would recommend a full physical to confirm with one hundred percent clarity, but that’s up to you.”

  “Then it’s as we expected,” Aldrich stated. “The Infernal was tracking her because it caught the scent of her dormant Light. Nothing more.”

  He looked disappointed, but I was ecstatic. It meant I could get out of here and go home with Jackson. I wasn’t implanted with a secret weapon, I wasn’t possessed by a demon, and I was definitely not stark raving mad. This was real and I wasn’t sick. All this time I’d just been a mad as hell teenager that’d been pissed off that her parents had been killed.

  “Does this mean we can go home? Me and Jackson?”

  Greer nodded. “As long as you don’t reveal what you know about the Sanctum.”

  I snorted. “Who would believe me?”

  “Your friend will be required to have his memory altered,” Aldrich said. “He is not immune, and we have to abide by the Codex.”

  “Codex-schmodex,” I declared. “As long as he’s safe.”

  “He’ll wake up tomorrow and be none the wiser,” Brax confirmed.

  “Thank you for your cooperation, Scarlett,” Greer said. “You may go.”

  “Wait… That’s it?” I asked, my eyes wide.

  “That’s it.”

  I stood, not sure how I should feel. Perhaps used might be an adequate word, but the lack of answers left me empty. Sitting on the sidelines, I waited as someone went to fetch Jackson. In a few minutes, we’d be out of here and on our way home. So why did I feel so slighted? It didn’t make any sense.

  When we finally passed across the threshold of the Sanctum and stepped into the human world, I glanced back but I never saw Wilder again.

  9

  When we arrived home, Jackson shuffled upstairs like a zombie.

  Five minutes after he had his memory wiped, we’d been let out of the Sanctum, bundled into a black cab, driven home, and that was it. Our adventure was over.

  Staring up at Jackson’s bedroom window, I wasn’t surprised to find it’d been fixed. I guess I should be thankful he had his soul restored along with the pane of glass Wilder had shattered. The only payment I had to give was enduring their tests and creepy round of questioning that revealed I was different, but not really. Useless Scarlett had been kicked out again.

  Sighing, I went upstairs, checking every shadow for puffs of black smoke. When I peered into Jackson’s room, he looked lost sitting on the end of the bed. I wondered if that’s how I looked after Wilder had attempted to screw with my memories.

  “Hey,” I said, leaning against the doorframe. “You hungry?”

  Jackson perked up and smiled. “Starving.”

  His reaction relieved a little of my anxiety. “I’m going down to the kebab shop. You want your usual?”

  “Yeah. You want some money?” He patted his pockets and his expression dropped. “I can’t remember where I put my wallet…”

  “That’s cool. My treat, okay?”

  He relaxed and flashed me a smile. “Thanks, Scarlett.”

  Outside, the city looked different. The sky was darker, the shadows were longer, and it had nothing to do with the sun going down and me missing yet another shift at 8-bit.

  The kebab shop was a beacon of light in an otherwise tumultuous world. Stepping inside, I was immediately scowled at by the owner, a pudgy, six-foot-three Turkish man with a moustache of epic proportions.

  “Yes?” He thumped his fist down on the counter and cocked a bushy eyebrow.

  The guy had a reputation for being abrasive and demanding, but I supposed he had to be when they stayed open until two a.m. and served a long line of drunks looking to get something to soak up the excess alcohol. His real world, no bullshit approach was reassuring in an odd way.

  “Can I have a large lamb donor, a large chicken kebab, and two large fries?”

  “Yes. Eighteen-fifty. Pay there.” He jabbed a meaty finger at the cash register and turned to make up my order.

  I paid, dropped the one pound-fifty change into the charity box chained to the counter, and sat on the bench. Watching people come and go, my thoughts naturally drifted to the creature that’d been lingering on the tube. He’d appeared to be just another guy on the commute home or to wherever, but the moment I ran… I shivered, remembering how he’d appeared out of nowhere in the tunnel and tried to grab me.

  The cracking of bones, the whites of his eyes, the clicking sounds it made in the back of its throat. The Naturals just tossed me back into the world, knowing what awaited me. I felt like a worm wriggling on the end of a hook.

  A prickling sensation quivered over my body and I was jerked out of my thought pattern. Turning towards the shop windows, I tensed as my gaze connected with a woman who was standing outside.

  She was a normal-looking corporate clone on her way home from a boring day working at some office. A posh leather bag was slung over her shoulder and her woollen coat looked like it might be from a designer label. Her blonde ha
ir was pulled back into a sleek ponytail, and her make-up was beige and bland. Normal, right? Not from the way she was staring at me, though.

  Glancing around, no one else seemed to notice her. The kebab shop workers were busy taking orders and cooking. Customers were staring up at the menu, and passersby were engrossed in their own business.

  I turned back to the window and the woman smiled, her eyes rolling.

  “You. Order.”

  I glanced back at the counter as the burly kebab shop man thrust a plastic bag full of food at me. Taking it, I smiled weakly, my stomach twisting and turning. Glancing back at the window, I noticed that the woman had disappeared.

  Swallowing a pile of vomit, I knew I couldn’t stay in here all night, so I took a deep breath and left the shop. Outside, I looked up and down the street, but the woman was well and truly gone.

  Scowling, I made my way home, the bag of kebabs and chips swinging back and forth. What use was having Light if it was blocked like a pile of sewerage stuck in a toilet? Did I just pretend that I couldn’t see demons roaming the streets of London? That’d be a tough call if they all stood around staring at me like complete weirdos. How could I ignore that?

  I looked back over my shoulder as I strode down Kentish Town Road, wondering if half the demon population of the world was bearing down on me. One fear had been replaced with another.

  Don’t be silly, Scarlett. They wouldn’t have let you go home if they thought you’d be in danger. It sounded more absurd the more I thought it.

  One thing was certain. I’d never look at the world the same way again.

  Saturdays at 8-bit was dance party night.

  I stood amongst a packed crowd, my mind elsewhere as music thumped through the air, making my bones vibrate. A girl dressed in an elaborate cosplay snaked past me, her papier-mâché angel wing almost smacked me in the face.

  When I’d shown up ready for work, I expected to be blasted for missing my last two shifts, but it was business as usual. Howard, the owner, had just sailed right past me, a bee in his bonnet about the drunk who threw up behind the pinball machines, and didn’t even pause to tell me how irresponsible I’d been. I smelled a little Natural mumbo jumbo, but I wasn’t complaining. I needed the job.