The Darkness Within Her

Chapter 11: Slow Burning Fire

“I saw you when I was ten years old,” I said as Timotheus walked into my little room. When I had started to think of it as mine, I don’t know. “It was pouring down rain and yet I saw this flash of blue. I followed it and there you were – a teenage version of you –on the other side of the street. You were engulfed in this blue fire. I thought you were being burned alive but no one else seemed to notice the flames. I wondered if I was hallucinating, I had to be. Because no one could be covered in flames and not care, not notice. I could feel the energy that melted fro your pours too. Electric, brilliant, and terrifying.”

            “I remember you too,” he replied in a voice that was barely above a whisper, sitting next to me.

            I looked at him, “It was the first time I saw you.”

            “But not the first time I saw you,” Timotheus said, confirming my unasked question. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, “It was not long after I had graduated high school when I went to Austin for a job opportunity. I had been a competitive boxer during my sophomore and junior years but after a shoulder injury, I was out. He had a security job open, and he offered it to me. I didn’t mind. It was decent pay. My mother was a friend with yours, so it wasn’t awkward and the hours weren’t extreme. But about four months into the job, things started to get weird. Austin and your mother – Carrie – started arguing. At first it was behind closed doors, but then it was in front of me, before it was in front of you, and then in front of guests.”

            I remembered that, the screaming and yelling. It was foggy, but it was there.

            “And then Carrie was dead. An accident, police said. But I didn’t believe it. Especially when you were diagnosed with a mysterious disease that no one would tell me about. So I left, went underground.” Timotheus gave me a calculating look, “I assume Jon told you about us.”

            “Yes,” I said simply.

            “I assume that your mother was a warlock – since one has to have at least one warlock parent in order for the children to be one – and she hid it from Austin when she got into a relationship with him. Seeing as she died around your tenth birthday, I think that you started to show signs of being a warlock since the age of ten is usually when children do show signs. And seeing as you are only a child, you wouldn’t be able to control your powers. Austin saw and realized the truth,” Timotheus said.

            “How would he know in the first place? About my being a warlock, or Mom?” I asked.

            “The thing you don’t understand is, Stone is a very famous name in the warlock community,” Timotheus said with a shocking bitterness.

            I was leaning toward him. I could count his eyelashes, the freckles that powered his cheeks. I should have leaned away, but I didn’t. “What do you mean?”

            “He – and his friends – are what you call ‘demon hunters’,” Timotheus grinded his teeth. “They hunt and kill us.”

            “My father…” I shook my head, “He couldn’t kill anyone.”

            I was standing in the kitchen, pouring a glass of water for myself when I looked up and saw Dad standing there. I gave him a timid smile that instantly faded at his expression. He was looking at me as though I were some disgusting bug that he had found and was ready to squash with his shoe. I looked down immediately, ignoring the hot tears that rushed to my eyes. It wasn’t the first time he had looked at me in such a way, and I doubted it would be the last.

            Timotheus must have seen my expression for he said gently, “He can and he does. Lisa Hastings is the one who discovers who has the E-cell and who doesn’t. And then Austin goes out with his team and hunts down whoever they have found.”

            My stomach rolled with nausea. My father was a murderer. A hunter. And the woman who was supposed to prolong my life, to try and find a cure, against a mysterious disease was actually poisoning me. Shortening my life. The realization was like a bomb. I curled into myself, grabbing my hair in my fists as the hot tears I had been trying to hold back spilled over onto my cheeks

            “Hey,” Timotheus reached out and held me. I sobbed into his chest, clutching at the black material of his shirt. My sobs were ugly and loud; it wasn’t like the movies where women cried in a man’s arms looking both tragic and beautiful. I knew what I looked like when I cried – my face got red and puffy, splotches scattering down my neck, my nose running just as fluidly as the tears – and yet Timotheus held on. When I tried to pull away, he tightened his grip just enough to let me know that I didn’t have to run. Which made me cry all the harder. Not even Caleb – who seemed so far away now – had ever held me when I cried. If my eyes had started to get watery, he would pat me on the back before leaving, asking me to text him when I calmed down.

            I don’t know how long it was until I was able to breath evenly, and my eyes finally felt somewhat dry. But eventually I pulled back and looked up into Timotheus’s face. He was startlingly handsome. He wasn’t your average, hunk handsome. The kind of guy you saw on TV and in movies. He looked more like the men who were supermodels. Lean with muscle and tall, a face that was sharp with angles and exotic enough to make one look twice. But my favorite part was the freckles. If he didn’t have them, I would have thought he was just a figment of my imagination.

            I breathed in deeply. He smelled of soap, of the ocean, and of licorice in a strange way. I felt something tug in my chest, “Tim…”

            “I am here for you Jaye,” Timotheus interrupted me, “And when this is over, I still want to be there for you. You are a remarkable person, nothing like your father. You are more like Carrie, your mother. For she was kind, and sweet, and thoughtful. I didn’t have a chance to tell you, but I don’t want you to be blind sighted. Austin contacted us, he has agreed to our terms. He wants to meet tomorrow.”

            “What?” I felt as though I was suffocating, “You can’t expect me to go back there! After everything I’ve just learned, you expect me to back? H-he might have killed my mom. My mom. How can you throw me back to him like some sort of used object that you don’t even care about?” I took a deep, staggering breath. “I know I’m a hostage, and I know that you more than likely give two shits about me, but why would you watch over me? Take care of me? Worry about me? P-please don’t make me go back there, please don’t. If what you’re saying is true, my dad doesn’t love me. He never has.”

            Timotheus cupped my face in his hands, turning on the cot so he could face me more directly, “I can’t go back on the deal, Jaye. But in the last several days, I’ve gotten to know you. And I do care for you. To what extant I don’t know, but I do. I need what your father has so he can’t exterminate us, but you have my word that we will not leave you behind.”

            “How do I know that you are telling the truth?” I asked, my voice sounding pitiful which instantly made me want to cringe. I wasn’t a damsel in distress. Perhaps once I had been, but not anymore.

            “Jaye,” Timotheus’s blue eyes bore into my green. I could feel something tickling the soft skin on my cheeks, and I saw out of the corner of my eyes the blue dancing flames. “I can’t explain it but you are a part of us. We won’t let you go without a fight. I won’t let you go.”

            Something was changing between us, something intense and electric. I pulled back. Whatever it was, it had to wait. Wait until all of this with Dad was over. I stood, with Timotheus mirroring me. I took a step back so there was a bit more distance between us though I could feel – just like I assumed he could – the slow burning fire in the space. I gave him a small smile, “I guess I will see you tomorrow.”

            “I guess you will,” he returned my smile with closed lips, inclining his head before leaving.