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Mackenzie was relieved to shut her front door at the end of the night. She tossed her clothes in the hamper and took a long hot bath. She lay back, glad to be able to relax at last. She closed her eyes.
The bathroom door creaked open; Mackenzie opened her eyes to find Lucien coming towards her, carrying a knife.
“What the hell? Ta...” He clamped her mouth before she could call out.
“Did you really think I would let you get away?” he asked. He ran the top of the blade along her cheek. She whimpered, not eager to feel the steel blade in her body again. “Tell Cray I said hi,” he grinned. He drew back the knife and slashed her throat.
Screaming loudly, she jumped up in the bath. The bathroom was empty. She was only dreaming. Lucien wasn’t here.
Taryn materialized in the bathroom, a knife of his own in his hand.
“What’s wrong?”
She screamed again and whipped a towel off the rail to cover herself.
“Get out,” she cried.
He stomped out into the living room. She got out of the bath and pulled on her robe. Taryn was staring out the window when she entered the room.
“Where did you come from?” she demanded.
“I was on the fire escape,” he replied.
“Why?”
“It’s easier to protect you if I’m close by,” he said it slowly, like he was talking to a small child.
“Yeah, well, there’s a motel just up the street that would be close enough.”
“Really, and what if Lucien burst through that door right now? What would you do? Ask him to wait while you phone me?”
“I can handle myself,” she said stubbornly.
He grabbed her wrist and bent it back almost to breaking point.
“Now what?” he asked.
She tried not to wince at the pain. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. She tried to knee him in the groin but he blocked her. In anger, she head butted him instead, instantly regretting it. He let go of her arm, clutching at his nose. She rubbed at her forehead. That was a stupid move but when he pissed her off she felt the overwhelming need to retaliate.
“You know if he does come through that door I’m extremely tempted to let him have you,” he growled.
Mackenzie dropped onto the sofa and sighed, still rubbing her forehead.
“If Lucien gets that close to you then you’re dead. He’s strong, a lot stronger than you are. Taking down a human is easy but a demon is something else entirely. He only used that knife because he wanted you to suffer.”
“Trust me, it worked.”
“My point is, you need weapons training.”
“I need more than that. I need to know about demons, my own heritage. I want to know everything. It’s the only way I’ll be prepared.”
“I’ll do what I can. We’ll start tomorrow.”
Mackenzie relented and let Taryn prowl around on the fire escape. She lay for hours trying to sleep. Her dreams that night were filled with visions of Lucien. She was running through the woods when Lucien appeared in front of her, with the bloody knife in his hand.
“Hey, Mac, how about you and me go back to my place,” he said. Her legs felt heavy as she ran from him. She could see a house up ahead; she knew she would be safe if she got inside.
Lucien began screaming her name repeatedly. She got inside the house and slammed the door. Taryn was inside, waiting for her.
“He’s here, Taryn, what do we do?” she cried. He walked up to her and grabbed her hair. Opening the door, he pushed her outside to Lucien. They began laughing as they took turns stabbing her. She awoke in a cold sweat.
In the morning, she got up and made herself some coffee. She opened the window on the fire escape to find Taryn hanging over the railing, looking down at the ground below.
“Is everything okay?”
“Huh?” he said, distracted.
She climbed out the window to see what he was looking at. Mrs. Bainbridge was screaming at her teenage son, Kyle.
“I told you no motorbikes,” she screeched.
He desperately tried to get out of his mother’s reach as she started throwing things at him including one of her own slippers.
“Are they at it again? She’s always yelling at him about something,” Mackenzie said.
“It’s strange hearing people arguing about normal things,” he said.
“I take it you don’t get on with your parents.”
“The last time I saw my father, he tried to kill me.”
“I’ll take that as a no then. What happened?”
He gripped the railing tightly, “I began to question my father, and he disowned me. Cray found me and he should have killed me. Instead he became my mentor.”
“Do you think he would have let me go? Back in the motel room,” she asked.
He turned to face her, “He asked me to save you, so yeah, I think he would have.”
“He really was my uncle?”
“Yes. They really were brothers.”
“I’m sorry that he died,” she said, and she meant it. Cray obviously meant a lot to him.
“We should start training,” Taryn said changing the subject.
“Moment over,” she muttered.