The Demon Inheritance

TWENTY-TWO

"Let's have a break today," I ventured, gently pushing him off. "We all need it. The journey has been tedious."

"But what about Mary..?" Oliver wiped his bloodshot eyes, sniffling a bit.

"I am one hundred percent sure I would have a vision of it if she got hurt," I told Oliver, truly a little flustered about it myself. "Anyone worrying too much can go and take care of transportation. Sound good?"

Ace interjected, "You can't just decide that with Oliver. Take it up with everyone else." Then, his black eyes darted apologetically towards his brother. "Although... It's a good idea to help us cope with all the stress..." The next glance he made was directed at me, and full of warning. About what, I didn't know.

I ignored Ace and turned to Oliver once more. Those big gem-like eyes, the innocent ghost wavering about him... No doubt, he greatly reminded me of Mary. There was an indestructible similarity lying between the two that I couldn't quite put my finger on. Whatever it was, it had to be ignored. After all, it would be no use to sit here wondering why Mary was similar to my Apotropaic.

I wrapped my arms around Oliver, burying my face into the crook of his neck so I didn't have to see that it wasn't Mary. The two smelled different. Oliver smelled like smoke and oranges, and Mary smelled like dew on grass and grapes. I tried not to breath through my nose, and imagined what it would be like if this was, indeed, Mary Clarkson.

I should have felt wrong for using him as a replacement, even for a moment.

But I couldn't bring myself to even feeling guilty.

I poked Oliver's shoulder gruffly, urging him up. "Let's go ask Dillan," I said, comfortable with the notion of the tacosexual being leader. After all, he had proved his worth to me. He could be serious... In certain situations. And he'd been guiding us through the journey to Los Angeles the whole time.

Oliver nodded, either already feeling better or already faking it. My heart took a leap at this, seeing someone being so keenly infected by... things that nearly happened to them as a child. Or... things that perhaps did happen...

In an attempt to shrug it off, I pulled him forcefully into the living room. That was where we would soon be expected to leave, and where I was going to question Dillan. I tried so hard not to think of Mary, but even picking up my sword and leaving the house again after Gran P gifted us showers and breakfast, I still thought about her. I was calm on the surface.

But deep down, I was terrified.

And because I was starting to care about the group, I was afraid the care was corroding my anger, and soon, they could see how deathly afraid I really was. Soon, they'd see my true emotions under all the anger.

And I was dreading that.

***

Dillan spoke with all the Apotropaics, minus Oliver for whatever reason, and granted us permission to take the day off while Carter, Mun, and Fango (who volunteered) went to get us a method of transportation.

Delta Mills gladly chose a creek as our discreet spot of relaxation. The environment expanded enough to let the calmer teens have their own wading pool, and the rowdier ones to freely splash around in the playfully tugging current. The leaves bristled against the baby blue Arizona sky, and the heavens seemed to open up in this speckled peaks in the trees. Shade was cast over us, and the dense trees god us from any curious onlookers.

I traced my finger against the smooth, cold water. It was like liquefied marble. I shuddered at the thought of that iciness all over my body, plus all the death-cold shadows. "Isn't exactly my idea of fun..."