Demons Run (4)
Roman and I hadn't talked much since he killed the demon woman. We drove at least three states over and there was only one conversation.
"Hey, Roman, how come we can't just fly to Iraq? Doesn't all this driving just seem a bit unnecessary to you?"
"Demons don't exactly do well on planes. Even though heaven isn't literally in the clouds, it's territory of the divine, and the angels are still granted the option to strike us both down. Heavenly privileges, I suppose." He had explained, "When we leave the country, we're going by boat."
"Oh. Flying would be like... Walking on Hallowed ground, but in the air?"
He cast me a sarcastic look, "For someone of your intellect, you really have a way of dumbing things down." He paused as I scowled, "Yes, Eve, it's like Hallowed ground in the air."
And that was it.
We were now at our next stop, a decent sized motel with the name "Black Rose Suites." It was nicer than the last place we stayed by far. The room had clean white carpet with a refrigerator, microwave, futon, and King-sized bed.
"Do you mind if I shower first?" I asked, stepping toward the bathroom door.
"That's fine." He said, setting our bags down by the nightstand. He didn't spare me a glance as he kicked off his boots and flopped down onto the bed
I entered the bathroom and as I peeled off my clothes I could hear Roman flip on the news. I drew back the semi-transparent curtains and stepped in, turning on the water to be as hot as I could withstand.
I let out a soft sigh as the water drenched me. The shower was definitely a place for thinking, and I had a lot to think about. There were honest to God demons who wanted me dead, and Roman, a demon himself, was keeping me safe from all the evils of our little adventure. Was little adventure even an appropriate phrase anymore? This adventure included out of country travels, demons, angels, master plans, redemption, and even a seventh wonder of the world. No, this was a big adventure.
Even more of a mystery than the journey itself was my companion. Roman was so confusing and a complete paradox. He was a demon, he wasn't supposed to be good, yet he showed concern for me. Maybe it was just because I'm his only hope, but he still goes out of his way to make sure I'm not hurt.
His annoyance with Ben also puzzled me. I didn't understand why he was so flustered over a few phone calls. Did he see him as an inconvenience, or did it go deeper than that?
I also couldn't help but wonder if I could ever go back to normal. Even after our trip to Babylon, the demons might pursue and kill me simply on principle. Besides, when someone draws back the curtains like that for you and shows you what's really out there, you don't ever look at the world the same again. Your perspective is forever altered.
Deciding that it had been a while, and I should get out before the shower ran cold and there was no hot water for Roman, I cut the water.
I got out and dried myself off, towel drying my hair before wrapping the towel around my body; my clothes were in the room. With a soft curse, I opened the bathroom door, letting the steam roll out behind me.
Roman looked up and when he saw that I was only in my towel, he stiffened. A muscle in his jaw jumped, which was oddly enticing to me. His eyes raked over my damp figure hungrily. Hormones flooded throughout my body at his stare and I flushed.
"Can you, um..." I gestured to a duffle bag next to him, "Toss me some clothes? I forgot."
He nodded, his voice was husky as he spoke, "Yeah, what do you want?"
"Just a big shirt and some shorts." I said. He leaned over the side of the bed and shuffled through the bag before retrieving what I asked for. "Thanks. Can you turn around?"
He stared for a couple more seconds and met my eyes. Heat. There was undeniable heat mingled with tension. Finally, as if it were a struggle to do so, he turned his head toward the TV; when I was sure he wasn't looking I dropped the towel to the floor and slipped on the clothes. If I didn't know any better, I would've said he picked really short shorts on purpose. They disappeared under the big hockey shirt.
I pushed my hair out of my face and sat down next to him on the bed.
"I was starting to think you'd drowned." He commented. I didn't give much of a reaction. I was still upset from seeing him kill the demon woman, and still a bit shaken from the way he'd just been looking at me. Like he really... wanted me.
He stared at me, waiting for a response. When I didn't, he looked annoyed. "What the hell is up with you? You've been really quiet since we left the diner. You're not upset, are you? She was a demon, Eve."
"I'm not upset because you killed her. You did what you had to do." I said quietly, staring off into space and not meeting his gaze. "Would it surprise you if I said that's not the first time I've watched somebody die?"
"No." He said, unblinkingly. I finally turned to face him. "From the second I first talked to you, I knew. You've got that far off look in your eye."
"Then why didn't you ever ask?"
"I figured if you ever wanted to talk about it, you would. If not, why bother you?" said Roman, "We're gonna be seeing enough death as it is."
I never had parents. Didn't so much as know their names. I grew up in Saint Jude's Orphanage for the better part of my life. It was a dark and dreary place, but I suppose it gave me a new appreciation for the more beautiful things in life. We weren't exactly poor, all the workers made sure that we were fed and clothed properly, but we didn't get the latest toys or devices. I didn't get a cell phone until I'd moved into my own place at the age of eighteen. The Orphanage was located in a more suburban area, but wasn't far from a really bad part of town. One night when I was around fifteen, the bad part of town came knocking.
I looked up at Roman through my lashes, breaking myself from the memory and refusing to dwell on it. I sank down a little further onto the mattress, "It just sent me back to a not-so-nice time in my life..." I paused, the question sticking to the tip of my tongue. "Roman... I - when you killed Azela, you didn't even blink. Do you... you know... enjoy killing?"
His silver eyes pierced mine sadly. "Yes."
I felt my stomach tighten up nervously. "Would you hurt me? If I wasn't your damned?"
His eyes were fiery, his jaw set with sincerity. Whatever came out of his mouth next, he truly meant. "No. I couldn't hurt you, angel."
"I believe you." I eyed him curiously, feeling a warm and safe sensation burrowing within my stomach. "I feel really safe with you. Why is that?"
"It's our souls. They recognize each other." He said. His hand reached over and traced a little pattern on my arm. The skin where his finger touched lit up with response nerves, before fading away again as he pulled back his hand. My breathing had become low and shallow.
"Will it go away when we have our marks removed?" I asked, bringing my feet up so I was curled up on the comforter warmly.
"Probably." He said with a sad smile. "Things'll go back to the way they were before. With the exception of murder. I won't have to do that anymore."
I felt a slight disappointment. I wanted to know Roman better. On the bright side, at least I had another week or two with him.
"Roman, do you think when this is all over maybe we cou-" I couldn't finish what I was saying because my phone started ringing.
He looked over my shoulder angrily, "Is it him?"
There may have been the slightest hint of jealousy in his voice.
I stood up and walked over to the desk to grab my phone; sure enough, Ben's picture was flashing across the screen. Roman stood as well, coming to stand in front of me. He plucked the phone from my hands, "Nope."
"What do you mean 'nope'?" I asked crossly, reaching across him to try and get back my phone. He was much bigger than me and easily held it out of my reach. "This isn't funny, Roman! You can't tell me that I can't talk to him!"
Roman hit the ignore button and tossed my phone onto the bed, "I can and I just did."
"You asshole!" I hissed, "He's my best friend. I should be able to at least have phone calls if I'm going all the way to Iraq with you."
"I don't care! I don't know him, and if you ask me, he's being a tad obsessive--" He stopped mid-sentence as there was a knocking on the hotel door. Roman and I both froze in our spots.
"Were you expecting someone?" I asked quietly, looking up at him.
He shook his head no, eyeing the door. The knocking occurred again, louder and more frantic this time. My pulse quickened. Roman grabbed my upper arm and crossed the room to where the closet was. He opened the door and gently pushed me inside. He was so close to me that I could feel his light breaths kiss my face.
His voice was low and his face solemn, "Listen, stay in here and don't make a sound. No matter what happens to me, you don't move. I promise I can hold my own, okay angel?"
I was intoxicated from being so close to him. Despite my nerves screaming danger, I felt the overwhelming urge for a kiss. Basorexia. I managed a nod and he leaned away, then, almost as if he considered kissing me, swayed back toward my face. There was building conflict in his gaze. With hesitation, he made up his mind and closed the closet door behind himself, walking towards the front door. I sighed in a quiet disappointment. I'd been so close.
I could barely see through the doors, it was one of those that had slits in the wood like shades over a window.
Roman was tense as he opened the door. When he pulled it open I flinched in anticipation. A male that looked a little younger than Roman, closer to my age, came barreling through the door. He looked ridiculously flustered and anxious.
"Panic, what the hell are you doing here?" Roman asked. The way he addressed him told me that he must've known him personally. Roman's guard also seemed to slack a bit, telling me he was comfortable with the man.
"Is it true?" Panic asked, turning sharply to face Roman. His voice wasn't deep, but it wasn't exactly high pitched. It had this soft sort of rasp; it was uniquely melodic. The way the pair were now standing, I was able to get a good look at him. He was short in stature compared to Roman, around 5'4" or 5'5". His ears were pointed and his facial features were defined and mischevious looking. His hair was neat and windswept (the top of his elf-looking ears poked through). It was a dark umber color, not quite brown and not quite red, a very lovely inbetween color. He had pale skin and dark brown eyes. His color palette reminded me of Fall; he was strangely beautiful. "Please tell me it isn't true."
"What are you talking about? Is what true?"
"The damned!" Panic yelled, nearly stamping his foot. His skin started to tint red. I don't mean he had a blush or was simply red in the face; every inch of skin was staring to turn a red sheen. It's safe to say he isn't human.
Roman crossed his arms and shrugged, "Maybe."
"MAYBE? MAYBE?!" Panic bellowed, his skin darkening even more so than before. His temper must've snapped; He let out a very angry war cry before jumping on top of Roman and began punching the demon's head. "Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!" He chanted. In that moment he was reminding me a lot of the Brownie, Thimbletack, in the Spiderwick Chronicles.
"God damn, Panic! What is your damage?" Roman asked, taking blow after blow from the man clinging to him. "I don't wanna hurt you!"
Panic didn't listen very well, because Roman's warning did not abate his anger; he kept on punching. Unfortunately, I don't listen very well either, so despite Roman's earlier command, I erupted from the closet.
Before either of them had time to react, I grabbed a thick phone book from the desk and chunked it at Panic's head. Luckily, I have good aim, so it hit the elf-man square on and missed Roman completely.
Panic lost his grip and thudded to the ground, still in blind anger with red skin. He went to pick himself up, but as soon as he looked up to see me he stopped, staying in his spot on the floor. The red faded from his skin, going back to its normal pale porcelain color. He looked utterly shocked. His voice was barely a whisper as he said, "Oh, God. Roman, what have you done?"
"I told you to stay in the closet." Roman said. He didn't sound as angry as I thought he'd be. I ignored him and continued staring at the strangely beautiful man.
"What?" I asked, a little breathlessly. My adrenaline had been pumping ninety to nothing.
"They were serious." Panic said, paling even more. "It's actually you. I - I didn't think..."
"Can you please tell me what's going on?" I asked, a note of desperation in my tone.
Panic didn't say anything, he just continued to stare at me in awe. Roman cleared his throat, "So do you care to explain why you're here?"
"I had to see for myself." He said. When he broke gazes with me and stood up, he snapped his head back around to Roman and a bit of the reddish anger returned to his skin. "I had to warn you."
"Warn me?"
"Did you really think there would be no consequences for what you've done? It's anarchy out there, Roman." Panic said frantically, "There's a price on your head! Hell is on high alert looking for the little angel, and she isn't exactly hard to miss!"
I cocked my head to the side. It was normal for Roman to call me angel, but I noticed it was becoming of more frequent use. I couldn't help but wonder as to why everyone kept calling me that. Maybe it was demon code or something.
"High alert?" Roman repeated with a glowering face, "Panic, I need you to tell me everything you know."
Panic sighed and ran a hand through his hair, "It's Barbatos." I noticed Roman's automatic change in demeanor. The way he tensed up, the way his eyes became furious, the way his jaw locked. "He's cooking up something big. He says he doesn't care what happens to you... but he wants her," He bobbed his head toward me and added emphasis to his final word, "Alive."
"Why?" I asked.
"He's not focused on getting rid of you. He wants you gift-wrapped and hand delivered," said Panic, "I asked around, but no one knows why."
I felt like I was going to be sick.
"Barbatos isn't going to fucking touch her." Roman said with fierce protectiveness, "That's a promise."
"I hate to say it," said Panic, "But I think you really messed up this time." He paused, "You shouldn't have picked her."
"She was worth saving." said Roman. I looked over to him, butterflies shooting off in my stomach. He didn't regret saving me.
"Pain and I figured you deserved to know."
"Speaking of, where is Pain?"
"He stayed behind." said Panic. "We thought it would look too suspicious if we both disappeared at the same time, since we're known to hang around you. Didn't want any of the demons to think we were plotting."
"Even though you were." I added. Panic shot me a mischievous little grin.
"Anyway," he finished, "Pain was going to wait an hour for me to find you. He's going to come out of the portal at the abandoned park a few blocks out. We have to go and meet him there."
"Alright." Roman grumbled, grabbing his keys from the nightstand, "Didn't need a shower anyway."