Chapter Twenty-Seven: The Oakchurch Job

Two days passed torturously slowly, and then it was Thursday – a day and a half before I had to make my decision – and I was still no closer to coming up with a plan than I had been a month ago. My stomach seemed to be tied in a permanent knot, and it felt like there was a great weight on my shoulders. I wanted nothing more than to hide under my duvet and let Halloween pass without me.

School was pure hell. I attended my lessons, but I was despondent and distracted, unable to concentrate. Laura and Alex were avoiding me, and after what had happened on Monday, Spark was ignoring me again; the only person who didn’t seem to hate me, in fact, was Carl. A part of me loathed myself for being grateful for his presence, but a larger part simply didn’t care any more. I was feeling dangerous and reckless. I might only have a day and a half left to live; what did it matter how I spent that time – or whom I chose to spend it with?

I was only mildly surprised when he cornered me behind the bike shed at lunchtime. I had gone there for some privacy – and because I had no one to eat lunch with – but this didn’t seem to matter to him; he followed me there, pushing me against the brick wall and keeping me in place with his body. He was dressed in a pair of faded jeans with a hole in the knee that hung low on his hips, and a dark green T-shirt that clung to him like a second skin, clearly defining his biceps and abdominal muscles. The chilly autumn weather didn’t seem to be bothering him, the lucky bastard.

“I’ve been thinking about you all day,” he murmured, raising one hand to brush my hair back from my face. His breath whispered across my cheek. “I couldn’t concentrate in my lessons, all I’ve been able to think about is how much I want to fuck you.”

I was almost breathless with anticipation. “Here? Now?”

“Is that a problem?” He leaned towards me and bit my ear gently, and a bolt of desire shot through me. I sagged against the wall helplessly.

“N-no.”

“Good.” His hand slipped down the front of my jeans, inside my knickers to my hot, wet centre. I moaned, arching my back into his touch. “There’s something about you, Hallow,” he murmured in my ear, his voice low and seductive. “I can’t stay away from you. We’re meant to be together, always have been.”

At that precise moment, I wasn’t inclined to argue.

A movement at the corner of my eyes caught my attention, and I gave a start of surprise as I realised Spark had rounded the side of the bike shed and spotted us. Absolutely mortified, I shoved Carl away from me hard enough to make him stumble backwards a step.

“What the fuck – ” he began, and turned around, his gaze landing on Spark. His lips curved in an amused smile; the man had no shame. “Spark, what a nice surprise. Sorry, but this is a private party – two’s company, three’s a crowd, and all that. I’m not into threesomes.”

Spark’s eyes looked like green glass worn smooth by the sea: unusual and iridescent, but reflecting none of what he was feeling. His mouth was set in a hard line, neither a smile or a frown. “I wanted to talk to Hallow,” he said neutrally, “but I can see that now’s not the best time.”

He turned to leave, and I took a step forwards, calling out desperately, “Spark, wait!” but he ignored me. I watched as he disappeared around the corner, and while a large part of me wanted to go after him – why had he wanted to speak to me? – my pride wouldn’t let me subject myself to any more humiliation. If Spark really wanted to talk to me, he would find another opportunity to do so; and if not…sod him.

“Forget about him,” said Carl, sounding like he found the whole situation very entertaining. I aimed a glare at him, but he remained unperturbed. He checked his watch, a cheap thing that was on its last legs, and told me, “I have things to do now, so we’ll have to pick up where we left off later. Don’t forget we’re meeting up tonight.”

I frowned, confused. “We are?”

He chuckled. “I should have known you’d forget. I told you about it on Monday, remember? I have a little project I’d like you to assist me with.”

“I’m going to assume you mean something illegal?” I asked dryly.

“Oh, undoubtedly,” he said cheerfully. “How about we meet at the obelisk on the High Street at midnight?”

I could have said no, but if I was going to die in two days, a part of me rather wanted to do something naughty before that happened – kind of like my last hurrah, I supposed. I nodded. “I’ll be there.”

Carl favoured me with a broad smile. “Great. I promise this will be a night you won’t ever forget.”

I arrived home to find Dad still at work, and Mum had left a note saying she had a hair appointment and wouldn’t be back until after five. The only one home was Ki, and I found her in my bedroom surrounded by a pile of torn brown paper. I stopped, stunned, in the doorway, and observed her expression, which wavered somewhere between guilt and smugness.

“What did you do?” I demanded, throwing my bag to the floor and storming towards her.

“I opened your birthday present,” she said defiantly, not moving from her Bast-like position on my bed. “The one you didn’t know who it was from.”

“Why?”

Her tail swished, and for a moment she looked almost sheepish. “I was bored. And you can thank me whenever you feel like it for doing you a favour.”

I loomed over her and fixed her with my most formidable glare. I waved a hand at the mess she’d made and said, exasperated, “How is this doing me a favour?” I should have expected nothing less from a demon, but it was all too easy to forget what she was when she looked like such an innocent ball of fluff. I had to stop treating her as though she was actually a cat. It could prove dangerous. “I should…should bloody kill you!”

Ki gave me a sly look. “Leaving aside the fact that demons are immortal, you might want to take a look at what I’ve uncovered before you do anything drastic.”

Deciding to play along, I sighed and pushed the remains of the wrapping paper aside to reveal whatever it was I’d been sent. My hands froze in midair when the object was still only half revealed. It was a thick, leather-bound book that was clearly very old. There was a symbol embossed on the cover that was very similar to the one Spark and I had used to summon Ki. I had a sudden feeling that I knew what this book was, and I lifted it into my hands gingerly, as though it was a bomb. I looked at the spine but there was nothing written on it, which wasn’t unusual for very old books. Instead, my hands trembling slightly, I opened the book and turned the yellowed, brittle pages to the title page. My suspicions were confirmed when I read the old-fashioned writing proclaiming:

Liber Umbrarum

I didn’t know what to think; my mind was a maelstrom of conflicting emotions. This was the book that contained a spell of some sort that could actually kill demons – not just send them back to Hell, but actually stop them permanently. It was the only way I had of defeating my demon father. I couldn’t believe that, after all the searching Spark and I had done, the book had just dropped into my lap. Someone had posted it to me.

Very gently, I turned a few pages but it was written entirely in Latin, and there was so much foxing on some of the pages that the text was almost indecipherable. “Who the fuck sent this to me?” I wondered aloud, replacing the book carefully on my bed. I had no idea how old it was, but I would have guessed late medieval; a printing press had clearly been used, so it couldn’t have been any older than that. I was a little afraid it would just fall apart on me, crumbling into dust.

Ki shrugged her little kitty shoulders. “Your guess is as good as mine. It was awfully nice of them though, wasn’t it?” That was probably the understatement of the millennium. She gave the Liber Umbrarum a slightly wary look and took a delicate step away from it. “Keep it away from me.”

My earlier annoyance with her had faded. If she’d hadn’t been bored – and, I suspected, nosy – then I wouldn’t have uncovered the book until the morning of my birthday, which would have been too late. “Don’t worry, Ki,” I said gently. “I’m not going to use the spell on you. I couldn’t, even if I wanted to – I don’t read Latin.” I asked hopefully, “I don’t suppose you do?”

She shook her head. “Latin all tends to be very anti-demons, so I never took the trouble to learn it.” She paused significantly before saying in a faux-casual tone, “Of course, there is someone you know who reads Latin very well, and needs this book just as much as you do.”

She’d read my mind. “Spark.”

“Indeed.”

I sighed wearily. “But he hates me.”

“Something tells me that will change dramatically when he finds out what you have,” she said dryly.

She had a point.

I sat down heavily on the edge of my bed and regarded the book thoughtfully. Was this something I really wanted to do? I had never truly given much thought to the implications of actually possessing and using the Liber Umbrarum; I had been more preoccupied with finding it than with considering what would come next. If I used it I would be free – neither dead nor forced to do the bidding of a demon – but I would also be killing my biological father. True, he wasn’t much of a father, but he was one of the few blood relatives I had left. And he was still family. Could I really murder my own father?

But what was the alternative? If I refused to join Damon he would kill me – he’d made no secret of that – and obviously dying was something I didn’t plan to do until I was at least eighty and had no teeth. The mere thought of it terrified me. The only other option was actually joining my father. He had never really explained to me what that would entail, but undoubtedly I would be made to do many nasty things. I didn’t want to hurt people. I might play fast and loose with the law, but murder wasn’t a line I wanted to cross.

And yet, either way I would be murdering someone; the only question was whether it would be a demon or a human.

I rubbed the demon brand on my wrist absently.

In the end, I took the coward’s way out and decided to tell Spark tomorrow. We would still have enough time to work out the intricacies of the spell – if that was what we decided to do – before midnight on Friday; besides, I was supposed to be meeting Carl, and I still needed to get ready.

I ended up wearing one of my many all-black ensembles that was just perfect for a little breaking and entering, since I strongly suspected this was what I would be doing. I didn’t look particularly inconspicuous, but at least I would blend in with the shadows. The night air was frigid, so I wrapped up in several layers, and snuck out of the house a little before midnight.

There’s something about the night that I love. I don’t know if it’s a half-demon thing or simply a me thing, but I’ve always found the night strangely calm and soothing. There’s a stillness to it that doesn’t exist during the day. When everyone else is curled up in their beds asleep, one can almost imagine one is blissfully alone in the world. Considering how hectic my life had been lately, feeling peaceful and alone was something I really liked. I relished the half-hour walk to meet Carl, my breath fogging the air in front of me and the moon hanging silver and bulbous in the sky above me.

“You made it,” said Carl, pleased, when I joined him at the obelisk on the High Street where we had arranged to meet. Oakchurch is almost directly between London and Winchester, and was once used by the Bishop of Winchester as a rest stop; the obelisk was built a hundred years or so ago, with the distances to many of the major towns nearby carved into it, to commemorate this. It also marked the beginning of the High Street, and therefore served as a convenient meeting point.

“Of course I made it,” I retorted with a roll of my eyes. I boldly tilted my head up and kissed him briefly on the lips; when I went to pull away from him, his hands gripped my arms to hold me in place, and he kissed me with a forcefulness that excited and terrified me. My lips felt bruised by the time he released me.

“So what’s the plan?” I enquired.

He grinned, a flash of white teeth in the moonlight. “You’re not going to like it.”

I sighed. “When do I ever?”

“Oh, you know you do.” He rested his hands on my hips and pulled me up against the hard muscle of his body. His voice was a low whisper, almost a caress. “You get off on the thrill of it. You love the chance that you might get caught, just as you love hiding your true nature from everyone. You’re an adrenaline junkie, Hallow, and deep down you know it. The greater the potential danger, the more you like it.”

I tilted my head to the side, not bothering to deny it. After all, it was what had attracted me to Carl in the first place. “So are you going to tell me what we’re doing here or not?”

His smile broadened. “I thought it was time for a promotion. We’re going from Division One to the Premiership.” His hazel eyes landed on something behind me, and I followed his gaze to find it fixed on a nearby building – not just any building, but a bank. For the first time I felt a stab of something close to fear. This was ambitious, even for Carl. It wasn’t just Premiership, it was the very top of the league table. If we fucked up – and there was a very good chance we would – we’d end up in jail for a long time.

“You have got to be joking,” I said disbelievingly.

“Not even a little.”

“Carl, this is insane, even by our standards – and we’ve done some fairly mental things in the past,” I protested. “This isn’t a small, rubbishy shop with a substandard alarm; it’s a bank. You can bet their security system is going to be top-notch. What’s more, I don’t have even the faintest idea of how to go about bypassing it.”

This appeared to be a trivial detail as far as he was concerned. “You owe me,” he said flatly. “I helped you at the adoption agency, remember?” (I should have known that would come back to bite me on the arse.) “I have faith in you, Hal. You’ll get us in.”

“Great,” I said doubtfully. “What exactly do you plan to do with the money – if we’re successful, that is?”

He shrugged. “I haven’t got a bloody clue. But you know I’m always up to a challenge, and there’s no greater challenge than a bank.”

“What about the Crown Jewels?”

“Good point. That can be our next project,” he said brightly. “Come on.” He took my hand (I suspected more to keep me from bolting than as a romantic gesture) and dragged me across the road to the bank. It was a small village branch of a national bank, housed in a redbrick building. The front entrance was fortified with metal bars that led to a small recess before one reached the main door, but it would be easy enough for me to raise this.

“Is there a guard?” I asked tensely, my voice a breathless whisper. My heart was beating double-time; I was terrified we would be caught. I had wanted some excitement, but this was more than enough, even for me.

“Nope. Too small. Just a high-tech alarm system and a gazillion CCTV cameras, but for you it should be a doddle. Do you want me to turn around while you do your thing?”

“Please.” Carl turned his back on me, and – after a nervous glance at the High Street, making certain we were alone – I closed my eyes, the better to concentrate on the job at hand. I turned my attention to switching off the cameras first. They stopped working one by one; six in total. Next I turned off the alarm system, feeling it out in my mind. It was pretty complicated, but I was able to shut it down. It would probably alert the police that the alarm had malfunctioned, but it should give us just enough time to get in and out. Then came the heavy metal door that guarded the entrance to the safe, where the money was actually kept. Lastly, I opened the barred front entrance and the automatic door before tapping Carl on the back, indicating that it was okay for him to turn back.

“After you,” I said, gesturing.

“That’s quite a talent you have, Hal,” he said admiringly. He strode into the building, and I followed him reluctantly. I noticed for the first time that there was a bulge at the small of his back, at the point where his jacket met his jeans – a gun, perhaps? God almighty. I opened my mouth to say something, and closed it again. I really didn’t want to know.

It was dark inside the bank, and I paused to allow my eyes time to adjust, but Carl pulled a tiny little torch from his pocket and turned it on. I was worried someone passing by outside would see the light, but the beam was weak enough that we should be safe. Carl went straight to the room containing the safe, which I had already opened, and pulled a plastic bag from the back pocket of his jeans. I watched helplessly as he began stuffing handfuls of money into it; he’d had the foresight to wear gloves so his prints wouldn’t be on anything. I was careful not to touch anything myself, as the last thing I needed was to be arrested for robbery.

Somewhat ironically, just as I thought that I heard a faint noise from outside the building, like the sound of a car engine drawing near. For one endless moment my heart actually stopped beating, I was so frightened, and when it started again it was pounding ferociously. I could hear my blood rushing in my ears.

“Someone’s out there,” I whispered to Carl. I was shaking with the urge to run away.

He hesitated for a nanosecond, stuffed one last handful of bank notes into the bag, and stepped away from the safe. He crept towards the door and peered around the corner cautiously, looking into the main part of the bank and to what little could be seen through the open front entrance. He jerked his head back quickly, grabbed my hand, and frog-marched me towards the back entrance.

“Time to go,” he said tersely.

“Who’s out there?”

“The police.”

“But I didn’t hear a siren!” I protested.

He gave me a how-stupid-are-you? look. “They didn’t use one – they were trying not to alert us to their presence, but they’ve made the mistake of parking out the front. Hurry the fuck up, they’ll be coming through the door any second.” Despite his words, his voice was astonishingly calm, with an undercurrent of anticipation. He found the situation thrilling – the risk of being caught – and I realised then that it wasn’t just him; it wasn’t only fear I felt now, but excitement, too. How sick was that?

We heard footsteps pounding behind us as the police realised we were running for it; we quickened our pace, moving at an all-out run to the back door. I opened it using my telekinesis – no time to worry what Carl would make of it – and we burst through it to find ourselves in a narrow alleyway. There were shouts from behind us, but the blood rushing in my ears was too loud for me to hear what they were saying. I closed and locked the door behind me to slow them down, and Carl and I ran for all we were worth down the alley…

…Only to find our way blocked by a police officer wielding a gun, his car blocking the mouth of the alley to prevent us from escaping. It hadn’t occurred to either of us that they would have someone cutting off our escape route; we were trapped, and the officer could see our faces because we’d been too cocky and stupid to wear masks, he could see our faces…

Carl paused for maybe a fraction of a second before reaching behind him. I was right, it had been a gun he’d hidden at the small of his back, and I could only watch in stupefaction as he pulled it out and levelled it at the police officer, his aim steady and sure.

I realised then what he meant to do, and I screamed “Carl, no!” at the same time the officer shouted, “Drop the gun!”

There was a deafening bang as he pulled the trigger, and the police officer crumpled to the ground, a red patch blooming on his chest. I screamed, but the sound was muffled by a persistent ringing in my ears. Carl seized my hand again and dragged me along the alleyway towards the fallen officer. I tried to resist, but he was much stronger than me and it didn’t occur to me to use my powers. I was shrieking hysterically, “You shot him, you shot him!” but he ignored me. We ran right past the policeman, Carl tugging me forwards determinedly when I would have stopped to check on the officer. Tears streamed down my cheeks as he leaped onto the bonnet of the police car, pulling me with him. I clambered onto it awkwardly, and together we jumped down onto the tarmac on the other side, the shock reverberating up my legs.

We ran for what felt like hours – but was probably only a matter of minutes – before finally coming to a halt. We had gone as far as the small industrial estate at the edge of the village, warehouses looming on either side of us, dark and forbidding. I still felt an awful urge to run or hide, so I unlocked the closest one and stumbled inside, Carl following a step behind me. I closed the door behind us and leaving us in the dark, but the pitch black now seemed like an ally, keeping us hidden from the police, rather than a foe.

We were both breathing heavily from the effort of running for so long, almost doubled over as we struggled to calm down both mentally and physically. I couldn’t believe what had happened. Any moment I was going to wake up safe in my bed to find it had all been a bad dream; just a bad dream…

“It will be okay,” said Carl breathlessly. I wondered who he was trying to convince, me or himself. “He was the only one who saw our faces, and we didn’t leave any prints. There’s nothing to connect us to what happened. We’ll get away with it.”

“Is that all you care about?” I screamed at him, the words echoing in the large building, magnifying them and throwing them back at us so that they sounded almost mocking. “Carl, you shot a man! He might be dead for all we know, and you don’t seem to care!” He’d shot a man, and it was just as much my fault as it was his. I should never have agreed to his ridiculous plan. I should have tried to shut down the alarm in a way that wouldn’t alert the police. I should have remembered how close the police station was to the bank… How would I ever be able to live with myself if the policeman died?

Carl lost his temper then. He gave me a violent shove, my back smacking into the wall behind me hard enough to bruise. He had no idea of the thoughts racing through my mind, so I wasn’t surprised when he snarled at me, “Don’t act like this is just my fault. You’re just as responsible as I am – you should have turned off the alarm properly, you stupid cow! Or was this all part of your plan? Sic the police on me, get me sent to jail? Well, if I’m going down, then I’m fucking taking you with me!”

I stared at him, dumb with shock. “I didn’t think any such thing,” I retorted once I’d found my voice. “I thought we’d be finished before the police came, but obviously I was wrong. Don’t you think I know that this is my fault too? My point is that I am the only one who seems to feel guilty that a man might die because of us!”

“Right, Saint Hallow,” he said mockingly. “That’s always been your problem. No wonder your father asked me to help you – you’re a sorry excuse for a half-demon!”

There was a horrible silence. I wondered for a moment whether I’d heard him correctly, but there was no mistaking his words. A sorry excuse for a half-demon. A half demon. He knew what I was?

“H-how do you know what I am?” I stammered finally. The whole night felt like an endless nightmare. I’d suspected Carl knew I wasn’t quite normal – my ability to mysteriously break into any building without effort was probably a big tip-off – but it hadn’t occurred to me that he might actually know the truth. I’d always avoided telling him what I was, in fact, for fear of what he would do with the knowledge.

“Because I’m one too,” he replied easily.

No. Oh, no.

It so figured.

Okay, okay, before anyone says it, I know it wasn’t very inventive of me to have Carl turn out to be the half-demon. It should have been fairly obvious it was him. But the point was that Hallow didn’t know. Only three or four chapters left now, darlings!

Don’t forget to check out Fiction With Bite, a site that has tons of recommendations for great online supernatural stories – the link is on my profile. There’s a forum now, too!