Torn(6)

“I can tell you, Lily,” Rose said sweetly. “I can tell you everything I know about him. And I know lots. Dirty things. Dark things. Red things. Cruel things.”

“Shut the fuck up!” I snarled. Because the truth was I did want to know—I did—but I didn’t want any truth that came from the mouth of Lucas Johnson. More than that, I feared if I gave in—if I let Johnson tell me—then Deacon really would kill my sister, and I might not be fast enough to prevent it. “You want something from me, fine. You want my attention, you’ve got it. Now, get on with it and tell me.”

I dropped my blade and took one step back. “Let him go,” I said to Deacon, and when he hesitated, I repeated myself. “Let. Him. Go.”

Deacon pulled back, his knife still out, his jaw tight.

I focused on Rose—on Johnson. “Now, spell it out for me, because I’m tired of playing twenty questions. Start with the Oris Clef. Where is it?”

“Isn’t that the question of the hour?” Johnson said.

I faced Deacon. “You, then. Tell me.”

“No one knows,” he said, looking at Rose rather than me. “The Oris Clef was forged in secret by Penemue.”

“Who?”

“An angel. He wanted power, and he secretly created a key that would force all nine gates open—and would instill the gatekeeper with power and dominion over those who passed through the gates.”

“So what happened?”

“The archangels discovered his treachery before he could use the Oris Clef,” Deacon said. “He was cast out of heaven, transformed into the vilest of demons, and the key was dismantled. Broken into three pieces.”

“Since Penemue made it, only he could destroy it,” Johnson said. “So those holier-than-thou fucks were stymied, weren’t they?”

“And that’s the key you want,” I said, shooting a scathing look toward Johnson. “So that this Cookie demon you work for will be the big demon on campus.”

“Well, well, not such an idiot cunt after all,” he said, the words so harsh from my sister’s mouth.

“What does this have to do with me? With Rose? I don’t know where your damn key is.”

“But you will.” A wide, sweet grin split Rose’s face. “And when you get it, you’ll give it to me.”

“The hell I will.”

“Oh, you will.” He fell backward onto the mattress, Rose’s arms out to her sides. As I watched, Rose fell silent, and her body relaxed. Her eyes opened, slowly, as if she’d awakened from a long sleep, and she started to sit up. “Lily?” she said, her voice confused and frustrated. “What’s going on?”

I rushed toward her. This was Rose; this was my sister. That thing inside her had gone away. “It’s okay,” I lied. “It’ll be okay.”

She screamed, the sound so loud and piercing I thought my eardrums would break.

“Get him out! Get him out!” She started brushing at her body, ripping at her clothes, as wild as a child who’d sat down on a fire ant mound. “Lily! Lily! Off! Off!”

I couldn’t answer. I couldn’t speak for the tears in my throat. Instead, I pulled her to me, held her even while I looked helplessly at Deacon. He was rage. Pure rage, and there was nowhere for him to direct it.

“I will,” I managed to whisper to Rose. “I’ll figure it out. I’ll get him out.”

But I don’t think she heard me through her screams. I held tight, rocking her back and forth, and watched, mystified, as Deacon stalked to the bathroom. Moments later, I heard the mirror shatter.

As if that was a signal, Rose jerked out of my arms. She fell back, her whole body convulsing.

“Deacon!”

He raced back in to find me shoving the belt part of my thigh holster into her mouth, holding down her tongue to prevent her from swallowing it.

Beneath me, Rose writhed and lurched, and nothing I did could calm her. “I can’t let her ride it out,” I yelled, my face wet with hot tears. “This isn’t a seizure. It’s him. He’s gonna kill her. If I don’t agree to find this fucking key, he’s going to kill my little sister.”

Deacon stood watching, breathing hard, nostrils flaring. The glasses had come off, were hooked to his T-shirt, and his eyes flashed red with fury. “She’s a pawn, Lily, and we’re playing on a celestial chessboard.”

I could only shake my head, my throat thick with tears. “No,” I finally managed, spitting out the word. “Don’t you even fucking think it.”

“Let her go, and his hold over you is over. It’s done.”