Page 7 of Darkness Defined

Rufus’s head cocked to the side and the queer sight of it almost made me lose my dinner. “Carter is coming,” he whispered, lowering himself to sit on the bench.

The flame in Oliver’s hand disappeared into a closed fist just before a man that looked more like a gorilla than a children’s care attendant walked by.

I held my tongue and tried not to look panicked. If I called for help, they’d only find me later and it would be so so much worse. Once he was gone, someone grabbed the back of my shirt and pulled me to my feet, not caring when my legs got tangled between the table and the bench.

Oliver’s manic smile filled my vision. “Good, you made it, Scylla.”

My optimistic belief that I could take him now seemed stupid and short-sighted. He might be the ringleader, but there was no way I could take four of them on my own.

“Wouldn’t want to miss this.” The owner of the voice bared a striking resemblance to the kids I’d met in the hall, though she looked meaner and older and was porcelain pale where the others had been dark. Resemblance or no, it didn’t make a lick of sense how she could drag me off of the table like it was nothing, not with her light frame.

“Get moving, meat.” She shoved me toward a side door. I had no idea where it led. I also didn’t have any options, so I walked.

“Meat,” Rufus chuckled. “It’s funny because he’s practically human. I mean, look at him. How did he even get in here?”

“They let in all sorts of weirdos these days,” Khima said, pulling up on my left. Who was she calling a weirdo? The girl in the hall had called me dangerous, but compared to this group, I was inclined to agree with Rufus.

Strangely, or maybe not strangely at all, no one seemed interested in five kids working their way to an obviously off-limits metal door. I attempted to drag my feet.

Maybe that gorilla-thing will come back and stop this whole mess before I end up in a pulverized puddle.

The door got closer.

Where did he go? Where are all of the adults?

I intentionally stumbled at the threshold, one last desperate attempt to buy time.

“Hurry up,” Scylla hissed, and forced me through the opening.

To my dismay, the door shut with a whispered hiss of air. A quick glance around showed that we were now in some sort of courtyard, or maybe it was a playground, with a high brick wall to our right. I squinted in the darkness and was able to make out basketball hoops and a jungle gym. What I didn’t see were witnesses.

My jailer gave me another shove, and I stumbled a forward. I spun around, wanting to keep all four of them in sight. Fat lot of good that did. The group spread out to encircle me, driving me further from the only escape route I knew of.

“He looks scared,” Khima snickered, her horns back-lit by distant lamps.

Oliver stepped forward to separate himself from the ring. “He should be.” The world took on a sudden light as two pillars of flame shot up from Oliver’s hands. I instinctively bent my knees and sank into the ground. I didn’t know what to expect, but it didn’t take a genius to know that I didn’t want to lose my footing.

“Aw, is the little baby crying for his mama?” Scylla crooned to a chorus of cackles.

“I can’t hear anything. Maybe I should get closer.” Rufus sped toward me as if he wasn’t even touching the ground, his teeth glinting in the unnatural light from Oliver’s hands. Panic twinged in my chest as the reality of what I was seeing struck home. That freak had wings.

The thought barely had time to form before I had to dodge out of the way. I spun around to search for him, only to be sucker punched by Khima in the gut. The hit ejected all the air from my lungs. I struggled to drag it back in, but it wouldn’t come, almost as if someone was simultaneously pulling it back out. I searched my attackers frantically for the source until I saw Scylla’s feral smile. She made a pulling motion and I put it together.

Sprite, that’s what she is, just like the kids from the hall. Mischievous and what? Intuitive.

Mercy and Christian had called me dangerous, but how could I possibly compare to something that could literally steal the air from your lungs? Then again, Smith had said sprites were never wrong.

I gave up trying to draw air, and the resistance vanished. Scylla stumbled back as if I’d let go of a rope she’d been pulling. I turned to face Oliver. Chances were that if he went down, the others would back off… hopefully.

“What’s the matter, Ollie? Too afraid to face me yourself?” I wheezed.

The red-headed demon’s face lit with fury. “That’s it, step back. I’m going to show this miserable wretch what a real demon can do.”

“Hey,” Rufus whined.

“Shut up. You’re a lower class and you know it.” Rufus withered at the onslaught and Oliver turned his attention to the Sprite. “I heard Mercy and Christian talking. He’s supposed to be something worth fighting. What do you think, Scylla? Is he worth my time?” Tiny flames licked up and down his fingers while he spoke. It was easy to see how his cuffs had gotten burned. Unlike the fabric, though, his skin didn’t seem to react at all.

Her smile looked evil in the lurid light of the flames. “I think all the power in the world doesn’t mean shit if you don’t know how to use it.”