Book 2 ch.5 Allies

                Rook almost flinched at the comeback. It was true, he knew Sophie the longest and should have known this was how she would react—heck even his mom would give him hell if she ever knew.

Damion was laid back against the sofa as he observed Sophie sitting next to him; the little demon child lying next to her as she used Sophie’s leg as a pillow. He had seen the hurt look on her face when she invited the cowboy back in and didn’t say another word to him since. “You shouldn’t be too upset with the gaucho; I was the one who requested he keep you out of harm’s way.”

Sighing, “I know,” she said while stroking the slumbering child’s head. “I just don’t like being kept in the dark like that.”

Damion leaned against his knees. “Would you have stood by while Rook fought against our senior?”

That was an easy answer, “Of course not.”

“And that is the reason why,” He said as he looked her way. “I know it is hard for you to bear the thought but sometimes, little one, in order for there to be peace there must be a battle to win first…What Rook did was too far, but it is because of his victory that there can now be a sense of peace and all resolves settled.”

He felt her tiny hand glide across his back, tracking every scar she knew was beneath his shirt. “But are some battles worth the pain?”

“Since I’ve met you, the only battles I see worth fighting for, are the ones to protect what is precious to me.”

                She embraced him then, as she hid her face against his back. ‘But how am I suppose to protect what’s precious to me?’ She listened to the steady rhythm of his breathing, before she felt his form shift, moving her to rest against his chest. Carful talons sifted against her scalp, as Damion lips grazed her template. “D-Damion?”

                “Stop worrying,” he muttered before his lips left a trail to her jaw. “I would rather think about something else.” He nipped her ear that sent goose bumps across her skin.

                Blushing furiously she hissed, “Stop that!” She swatted at his shoulder. “There’s a child here!” That said child, stretched out before curling back into a ball against Sophie’s leg.

                The cheeky demon chuckled at her embarrassment, as he laid his head against the sofa’s rim. “I just wanted to get a blush out of you. It suits you far better than the pout you’ve been wearing.”

                She huffed at her demon’s odd way of cheering her up, “You’re lucky you’re too cute for me to be mad at—Eep! Stop that,” she squeaked when Damion pinched her bottom.

                “I am not cute, I am devilishly handsome. Get it right, woman.” The corner of her pouted lips began to twitch as she resisted satisfying the cheeky demon with a smile, but soon felt her smile reach her eyes; matching his own. He was lucky she found his teasing, charming.

                “Ahem,” was the sound of someone’s throat clearing as they alerted them of another in their presence. Sophie had to crane her neck to see Rook standing behind the sofa—his intense emerald eyes locked onto her. His right eye was beginning to darken with purples and blacks, and his face and neck were marked with scratches. Other than that he looked to be recovering quickly. “Can I talk with you for a minute, Shrimp?...Alone?”

                Damion took the hint as he stretching his broad shoulders with a strangled groan before sitting up. ‘I need to have a word with the cowboy anyway, and Rook needs to fix things with her before we leave tonight.’ He thought as he cuffed Rook’s shoulder passing by.

                The silence was deafening as Rook moved to stand before his sister, with only the sound of the fire wood cracking under the heat. She didn’t say anything as she continued to look up at him. The smile she had was again taken over with that damn depressing look, and he wanted nothing more than to see it gone. He didn’t sit next to her; instead he slowly lowered himself on the floor with the help of the sofa’s arm. He winced when his wounds protested, but didn’t stop until he sat on the floor and rested his head upon her knees as he watched the flames dance across the logs.

Licking his dry lips he said in a hushed voice, “I’m sorry.” He felt her fingers combing his dark tresses in a soothing gesture.

                She whispered, “Why’d you do it Rook?” Her voice wasn’t harsh or hateful, but gentle like a breeze as she tried to understand her brother’s turmoil.

                His mouth felt dry when he spoke, “I felt anger like I never felt before grow inside me, Shrimp. I was so tired of always being on the beaten end and always losing—“his voice constricted but he pushed on, “I couldn’t let them take me away from this place; from you. I couldn’t survive through it all again—not again.” He hated his weakness when his vision began to blur and threaded her fingers with his. “Everything became a blur and I saw red—I became blood thirsty for whoever wanted to destroy all that I have…And in that moment I loved the power of making that collector suffer—and I imagined that fat bastard who fucked up our whole lives was him as I actually tried to beat them to death…I actually thought I was a fucking hero for finally beating my enemies…but then you looked at me, like you did at Bruce.” His jaw clenched tightly as his hand gripped his templates, hiding his eyes from view when he recalled the gut wrenching feeling.

He felt his sister wrap her arms around him and slightly rocked him as she shushed him. The young demon rested his head on her shoulder as he cried, “Please forgive me, Shrimp. Don’t hate me.”

“Shh, I could never hate you Rook, never,” she whispered, her grip tightening around her brother, “I was afraid—afraid you would become what you hate the most.”

‘And I don’t want to ever become that.’  He felt her embrace slack and turned to kneel before her and clasped her hands in his own. “I give you my word from this day forth Soph, I won’t become that person.” 

                *~*~*~

                “I need you to do me one more favor, Gaucho.”

                Citrus eyes looked from under their leather hat to see intense gold staring down at him. “Oh?” He asked, his curiosity peeking, “What favor would that be partner?”

                Damion made him-self comfortable as he sat across from the gaucho, handing the traveler a mug of black coffee while he held his own cup. He thought of the right words carefully as he drank the strong drink; there was no guarantee the cowboy would help anymore than he had—and he knew the longer they stayed the longer his white demon child was in danger. Yes—his senior swore not to breathe word of what he witnessed here, but that didn’t mean his rookies wouldn’t try something…but still, he had to ask this one favor.

                “I ask you, to stay and guard Sophie this night.”

                Taking a sip of his own coffee before he replied, “Now why would you need my help when you’ll practically have a small army?”

                Damion countered, “Because we will be spread out to protect the village, and you know these soul eaters are nothing like what we’ve encountered before. I need you here to protect Sophie incase another ambush should arise and they come after her. I give you my word that should the time come where you need my aid, I shall come. I don’t trust the others with this task.”

                The gaucho didn’t speak for a moment. “…You trust me that much after knowing me for one day?”

                Nodding, “I trust you because—unlike the rest of our kind—we both found something precious to protect with everything we have.”

                He hummed softly at that, his rattlesnake piercings catching the light as his lips turned upward. “Well I can’t argue with that.” He lifted his mug in a small toast, “Here’s to having something precious in our lives; may we never lose it.”

Damion raised his own mug as he drank to that. “Then you’ll help?”

“I’d be honored to stay one more night for the little miss, but that’s the most I can do for ya compadre.”  He struck his hand out to Damion, who took it with a firm grip of his own. “I understand. You have my gratitude, brother.”

*~*~*~

A gruff voice spoke, “It will be time to leave soon.” They turned to see it was Damion’s teacher, who leaning against the doorframe that lead to the greenhouse. He must have been observing their little pack.

The gaucho’s gaze was fixed upon the elder as he took notice of the damage done to the formidable warrior. He cringed at the sight of a blood stained gauze around what was left of a broken horn.  To have a blow to the horn and still be able to get back up was no easy feat. “I’m surprised you can still move around after a blow to the head like that, old timer.”

“Hn,” Was the seasoned warrior’s reply as he walked over to put the tea cup in the kitchen sink.

The gesture didn’t go unnoticed by Damion. “How’s your head?”

The muscles around his eye still twitched with the mild throbbing he was still feeling in his horn. He massaged his battered template as he actually took up a seat, sitting next to the gaucho and across from Damion. “The pain is bearable, and the bleeding has lessened. I must admit, your woman’s knowledge in healing was… helpful.”

The gaucho was the first to react as he gaped at the old goat, before his face split into wide grin.  “Ha! Well paint me blue and call me, Babe! You actually just gave the little miss a complement.”  He gave the old timer a rough pat on the shoulder, “Good on you man, I knew you had it in you.”

The senior gave the cowboy a murderous glare as pain flared up his stiff shoulder. “You wanna lost your arm?”

 The gaucho wisely backed off, but still had that stupid grin on his face. “You felt it too though, right?”

Damion’s brow’s furrowed at his question. ‘What the hell is he talking about? Felt what?’

The older demon sneered at the westerner as he massaged his templates, “What are you babbling about now gaucho?”

“Don’t act indifferent, old timer. You know what I mean—”

The table shook as the elder’s fist connected with the oak wood with a loud bang. “We are not having this discussion!”

Before the nosy demon could push him further, the old oak clock struck seven, alerting the demon’s in the mansion that they had to leave to their posts soon. The older demon was instantly on his feet. “Gather what you need. We’ll be leaving shortly,” He said before leaving the kitchen abruptly.

As the gaucho began to rise from his seat, Damion questioned him, “What did you mean?”

The westerner clicked his teeth at him. “You should know since you’ve been with her the longest.” When it looked like he needed to clarify he continued. “Right now that old fart’s trying to fight what that amazing little darling of yours has loosened in his withered old soul.” The gaucho could see the possessiveness in Damion’s eyes and hear his murderous thoughts of the old timer having certain kinds of feelings for his Sophie.

He actually thumped Damion on the shoulder. “Not those kinds of feelings, idiot!—It’s the fact that he’s starting to feel.”

“Even if that is true, why are you encouraging him? He tried to kill your oddity.”

His citrus eyes took on a darker shade. “That may be, and I wouldn’t hesitate to put a lead bullet in him if he tries again. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had to shoot one of our own— the sorry bastards— for being ignorant to what’s in front of them.”

“Which is what gaucho?”

“Just look over there,” he suggested as he pointed to the doorway on the other side of the kitchen that connected to the living room.  Damion silently moved to observe the conversation that was being held.

He wouldn’t believe it if he wasn’t seeing it, but he was. Sophie was standing before his teacher without a hint of fear of the now mobile demon that towered above her. She chatted away at him as if they had always been buddies; going on about how he shouldn’t be moving around yet—even asking the willowy demon to bend down so she could check his injured horn again. No, there’s no way he would—holy shit he is!  The stubborn old demon was actually presenting his crown of horns to her, while his ears brightened at the tips again. Rook though flabbergasted, silently watched the whole thing from the sofa with the unconscious oddity curled up next to his leg. His eyes looked skeptical at the scene as he kept his guard up.

‘The first time I can understand. He was injured and allowed her assistance to help heal his injuries, but now, when he doesn’t need it…’

He hadn’t once insulted or lashed at her, as he allowed her to inspect his person again. But it was his face that gave him away. It was subtle but it was there! The smallest of expressions flickered across his face, as he silently watched her.

Embarrassment.

 Curiosity.

Fascination.

And respect.

What wasn’t there before now was in the seasoned demons eyes.

 “You should hear his thoughts right now. He doesn’t have a clue how to react with your little miss,” the gaucho whispered next to Damion, before he deeply chuckled, “And Rook thinks he gave the ‘old goat’ brain damage.” Damion couldn’t help cracking a smile at that, the tension evaporating from his rigid form. His old mentor dismissed himself as he exited the room; waiting outside for the rest of the demon’s to move their asses.

The gaucho gave Damion a pat on the shoulder, before summoning his brown leather jacket from the coat hanger.  “Well, I guess I’ll go get settled on the rooftop. You might wanna dress in better attire for tonight, it’s gonna be a cold one.”

 “Yeah,” Damion muttered, not at all in the mood to go anywhere. ‘My body may not be at full capacity, but that is no excuse. But what damn choice do I have? I’ve already neglected my responsibilities for three days now.’ It was such a shame he was unconscious all three of those days instead of having a chance to be with Sophie. ‘Is it too much to have just one damn day and night of piece and quiet with her all to myself?...Of course it is. I am a damned soul.’ He silently walked past the living room while Sophie had her back to him and went down the short path to his bedroom.

*~*~*~

A small knock echoed on his door, before it creaked open to a slit. Sophie’s gaze instantly found what she was looking for. A shirtless Damion was sat on their bed while finishing the last of the strapping’s around his thigh that held his dagger. His hands gave off a slight trembling, and his breathing raspy. Though the mighty demon was still battered and bruised, she knew that look in his eyes and knew she couldn’t stop him. ‘If he can stand, he will fight.’ 

She held the cool dark material in her trembling hands a little more before approaching him. “Here,” she said as held his recently sewn long sleeve shirt to him. “You’ll need this.” Instead of taking his shirt, his fingers wrapped around her wrist, pulling her to him, and she didn’t resist.

“Would you help me?” His timber voice said, as his hands linked behind her legs, his head resting on her shoulder.

At that moment he looked so tired. Not just physically, but mentally like he was an old man instead of a young immortal. It nearly broke her restrains, but she held firm. ‘I won’t cry. He doesn’t need any more stress put on his shoulders.’  She chuckled, as she tried to relieve some of the tension. She unfolded his shirt and as he put his arms through she helped put his head through the hole. “Of course—though I think you just want to be spoiled by me since you weren’t my center of attention today.”  He huffed at that as she pulled the rest of his shirt down his bruised abs.

His hot breath was upon her neck, “I’m not jealous of the child, the cowboy, or that old goat. You spoil me every day.”

She gave him a forced smile as she cupped his face and gave him a tender kiss on his brow. “Well my spoiled demon, I’m going to get started on our dinner soon.” She pulled away from his embrace, but started putting a pile of folded laundry way in their dresser. “What would you like tonight? Creamy chicken pasta or maybe a stew? Ooh I’ve wanted to try making chilly for a while now.” She had been so lost in thought that she didn’t notice Damion had moved. If she had looked up at the mirror instead of the drawers she’d see Damion was right at her back.

Sophie wasn’t fooling him. He could see the stress radiating off her soul in waves, and the way she was holding her frame rigidly showed how she tried to contain it, it was unhealthy, one of the things Damion refused to tolerate.

“When will you learn that you can’t hide your emotions from me?” She nearly jumped out of her skin at the closeness of his tired voice.

“I-I’m not,” she protested but she couldn’t fool herself much less a demon with higher senses, but she tried. Before she could say another lie she felt his arms wrap around her shoulders. The heat from his torso and arms instantly chased the chill in her soul. She looked at him in the mirror; his gaze was only on her.

“I will come back.”

She us to believe he could bend the universe to his will, but after what happened to such a powerful being…She wanted to call him a liar, point out the last time he had come back he almost died and was in a coma for three days—to tell him he wasn’t invincible, but she knew better. This time would be different with the others at his side.

The water damn broke, as she felt her betraying eyes over flow. “I-I know.” She rubbed at the stubborn droplets, “You stupid, stupid demon. I wanted to be strong so you wouldn’t see me crying like this before you left. You’re always seeing me cry.”

She felt his sigh in her hair. “That’s not strength, little one.” His talons glided against her tear streaked skin. “It takes real strength to show your emotions so freely. It’s one of the things I admire about you.” He kissed the corner of her eye, “If your afraid don’t be. I will carry the burden.”

“You’re so selfish,” she sniffled, leaning more into him. She could feel his smirk in her hair. “Perhaps little one or perhaps it is you who gives me the strength to carry it.” Sophie shifted in his arms and buried her face into his chest, sighing when he held her all the more tenderly.

“Potato soup.”

“What?” She felt his chest flutter with a chuckle.

“I would like your potato soup.”

~*~*~

The demon’s grip tightened around his scythe, his feet leading him to the front door where the others were waiting for him. It would be the first time he would be flying after almost losing his wing; this was the moment of truth if he would be able to fly again.

His petite companion reminded him that he wasn’t alone, as she wrapped the crimson cloth around his neck tenderly—her fingers leaving a tingly trail where they touched skin. “You better come back in one piece, or I will be severally cross with you. Oh, and try to play nice with the other demons; they are helping you after all.”

He huffed at the mother hen, “I am not a child, and I do not play.”

“Uh-hu, and this coming from the demon that I convinced to play a snow-ball fight with me?” She laughed when his tipped ears reddened, and his lips thinned. “Don’t worry, your secrets safe with me.” She tugged on his scarlet scarf to bring him down to her level to leave a chaste kiss on his bruised cheek, before moving to open the oak door for him.

His hot lungs took in the cool crisp air as the strong gust of wing sent both their hair flaying wildly. Sophie didn’t seem to mind as she enjoyed the refreshing scent of winter, her cheeks turning a cherry hue from the sudden chill.

The demon could see her soul had calmed considerable, though not completely. Though, he thought it couldn’t be helped since she would always have that small sliver of fear for his safety. 

At least someone cares if I live or die.

Her slender limbs wove around his middle as she buried her face to his chest. “See you tonight,” She whispered, squeezing tighter when she felt his arm snake around her shoulders.

His hot breath tickled her ear as he replied back; “See you tonight,” his own hold tightening for a moment before releasing her to join the others.

Rook was the first to bitch. “About time, old man—” He sighed before jerking his thumb to the left, “—the old goat right here was getting impatient.”

Damion didn’t bite the hook, far too tired and worn to waste energy on anyone at the moment. Save it for the real fight. “Sorry,” he said tiredly as his wings stretched out.

The old goat spoke up then as he looked towards his soldiers, giving his rookies their orders, “Both of you will take your separate posts at the east and west. This town is small enough, we will know if one of us is being attacked, and needs assist. Remember to take your post in a high location, and don’t forget to listen for the cries of dying souls. It is our duty to protect the innocent, slay the wicked, and end the suffering.  This is what you’ve trained for rookies, don’t disappoint.” He turned his back to them, stretching out his dark leathery wings before giving the final order, “Dispatch!” He shot up to the sky like a shadowy bat as two similar figures took off in the opposite directions, leaving behind the two misfits of their group.

“You ready Rook?”

The green horns glanced back at Damion then to his recently healed wing. The scar was just visible as raised skin where the thick webby tissue healed. “Are you?”

“Sure he is,” a voice bellowed from above them. It was the gaucho at his post on the roof. His legs were hanging off the ledge with his rifle resting in his lap. He tipped his hat off to them, “Give the ugly bastards hell.”

A dark satisfying smirk grew on Damion lips as he relished the thought of getting revenge on the beasts. He would remind them what fear truly was. “You don’t need to ask me twice, gaucho.” His mighty crimson wings spread out wide as he turned away from the mansion. “Let’s go Rook,” he barked as he took off in a short sprint, needing the momentum before his battered legs had the strength to take off. Wings stretched and carried the massive weight, lifting higher and higher before the warrior was bathed in the moon’s light.  A heavy weight lifted off the demons shoulder at the thought of never being able flying again. He pushed past his pain that was imbedded in his flesh and bones, and just took in the moment. He never realized how much he would have missed this part of himself if he had lost this piece of who he was.

Rook was at his left wing as he watched Damion do a barrel before evening out. “How’s it holding up?”

His wing was holding up, there was no pain, no strain no matter which way he flew. And I owe it all to you my little angel. The fog from his breath fanned across his body like a whispered touch. “Like it never happened.”

*~*~*

Smoke filled her little lungs, choking her as she was helplessly dragged outside. Screams of a women and children slowly echoed away into the far background. Her whole world was spinning out of control, when the stranger threw her hard against the grainy earth beneath her. She cried out with all her might for someone to help her, as the dark figure fell on top of her, shredding her nightgown with rough, filthy hands, and a sharp dagger. She wailed when his knife cut deeply into her upper thigh as he removed the rest of her gown from her legs.

A hand across her face silenced her as she was helpless to overpower the adult. A deep, desperate voice shouted in the background for them to stop—

“Get your hands off her, you son of a bitch! I’ll kill you—I swear I’ll kill you all!” He continued to shout and curse at them to leave her alone, but like her, was helpless to stop it as other men continue to beat the man nearly to death before putting a bullet to his head, silencing her protector.

A new fire to fight and live blossomed from her chest as she fought her attacker—scratching and biting his arms before latching onto his face when he drew closer, drawing blood before another slap across the face made her nearly lose consciousness. The man cursed out loud as he held his bleeding face with his free hand.

“Fuck this,” he sneered before raising the six inch dagger high above his head while pinning her down on the ground.

Her cries became high pitched, desperate, as she watched the dagger thrust down—deep into her chest—

Her cries turned to desperate gasps for air as her coral eyes flew wide open to see the golden hair woman, as Sophie gently shook her from her nightmare.

“Shh—shh, it’s okay sweetie. It was just a dream,” Sophie cooed as she wiped the little blood droplets from the child’s eyes. The demon-child gripped her aching chest before leaping into Sophie’s arms.

The poor child was so shaken. Sophie didn’t even hesitate to wrap her arms around the child, while little arms and coral little wings wrapped and clung around her neck and back. She stood up with the child, as she gently swayed back and forth in front of the fireplace, whispering encouraging words to the sobbing little oddity. She gently combed her fingers through her hair, and kissed her crown; not caring that blood tears was soaking her neck and gown. Her heart ached and her eyes teared for the poor child; she could relate to the pain she had to endure since she was a child. Her nightmares still haunted her from time to time.

The sniffling child soon calmed, and let Sophie sit her back on the sofa as she wiped her face clean of tears, again. Her round orbs scanned the room, searching for her protector.

Sophie calmed the child’s worries, “It’s alright, sweetheart he’s up on the roof watching over us.” She help the oddities little hand in hers as they walked together into the kitchen.

She settled the ivory child on the island, “Now, why don’t we treat him to a nice bowl of potato soup? It’s just about done, and you can help me bake some French bread. Would you like that?”

The child was all too eager for the distraction as she helped around the kitchen. The smell of delicious soup and warm, buttery bread was so soothing, along with the kind young woman’s presence.  It was a wonderful calm that wrapped around her like a blanket.

Sophie smiled at the glow on the child’s face as she blissfully enjoyed another bit of the golden crisp bread. Horns or not, she was an adorable child.

‘A child with no name to call her own.’ It was such a sad thought.

The golden beauty giggled, as she ruffled the flour out of the child’s hair. “We should come up with a name for you. Would you like that?”

 Though the child still didn’t speak, her bobbling head showed her enthusiasm before pointing at Sophie. “Oh? You want me to pick a name for you?” Another bobble of the child’s head.

Sophie stroked her chin in thought, “Let’s see…” Her eyes landing on one of her spice jars. “How about Rose Mary?” A scrunch, displeased face was her answer.

She couldn’t help laughing, “No? Alright then…,” She voiced other names, but the result was the same negative response.  That didn’t deter the blonde as she thought about her day with the child, searching for the perfect name. Her eyes landed on the extra flower crown’s they made. The daisy’s soft, milky white petals reminding her of the child’s own complexion.

‘And they flourish in May…the same month her protector found her.’

“What about Daisy May?” It had a cute ring to it, and the child must have thought the same; for the albino child smiled from ear to ear with positive shakes of her head.

“Perfect,” The blonde squeaked, entwining her fingers as she laid them to her chest; Sophie felt as giddy as the child. She finished adding a third bowl of potato soup with a side of the warm bread. “Come on; let’s get this hot bowl of soup up to him.”

The steps up the spiral stair case creaked and moaned with every step the pair took, the small windows embedded in the stone walls providing their only source of light. Sophie was carefully caring the tray while her newest little friend, Daisy May had a firm hold on the bottom of the dress. Apparently she wasn’t the only one that got a chill down their spin whenever walking up the dark stair-well, but it was the only way up to the roof for those without wings. Even now as an adult Sophie always had to look behind her shoulder every few steps; it still felt like hands would try and snatch at her feet the moment she took another tread up the shadowy steps.

She dodged another cobweb, note to self: sweep this place next time. Her human eyes just made out the form of the old oak door. “Finally,” She cheered as she balanced the tray and one arm while opening the door with her free hand. The winter winds instantly hit her face, as it came rushing in the stair-well before settling down again. She pulled her cotton rob closer around her neck as she scanned the roof top.

There he is, the gaucho was further down from them—his legs crossed as he sat near the ledge. He was wrapped in a thick poncho while an impressive Winchester yellow boy sat in his lap, the barrel resting on his shoulder as he kept his keen eyes forward. The only sign that showed he wasn’t a statue was the steady fog that wavered from his aquiline nose.

The silence was broken when the demon child rushed over to him, her bare little feet padding in the snow as if she were walking in a feel of warm grass. She pulled herself up on the wall’s ledge before hugging the cowboy with all the affections a child could muster.

Instantly his cold hard eyes softened to a warm citrus. His arm emerged from the poncho, wrapping around the child’s waist. “Hey, baby girl. You been good to Miss Sophie?”

“She’s been nothing but a darling helping me in the kitchen.” The blond settled the tray next to him, but didn’t sit on the ledge. It was still a frightening reminder of when the soul leech possessed her body and forced her to fall over the edge. If it weren’t for Damion’s swift instincts she wouldn’t be here.

She shook the memory away, her hand wrapping around the ceramic bowl to offer to the gaucho. “Here, you must be hungry.”

 His hand was hesitant at first, before taking the offered meal; the heavenly rich smell instantly hit him in the face and allowed his stiff shoulders to sag. He dipped the golden crisp bread into the creamy soup before putting the whole piece into his mouth. The westerner groaned at the blissful concoction. “Mmh—Damion better be treating you like gold if this is your cooking every day.” He dipped another piece of bread before popping it in his mouth.

The blond blew the steam from her own cup before dipping her spoon in. “I can’t take all the credit. I had a great helper.” She gave Daisy a wink.

“Is that so?” He said, as he looked at his child, bumping shoulders with her. “Looks like you’re going to be helping me cook around the camp fire more often.” The child’s face turned a pretty shade of pink, her little feet swinging over the ledge as she basked in this small moment.

Before the gaucho could speak, something caught his eye in the distance—his pupils contracting to little pin size holes. He raised his rifle, holding it steady with easy as he set his sights on his target. Sophie tried to see far out at what he was aiming at but could only see darkness, and the faint outlines of the village down the hill. Her heart nearly jumped in her throat at the loud crack in the air when the demon pulled the trigger, the scent of gun powder fanned her nose as a flash of blue flew far out. It hit its target straight and true when the trio heard a distant shriek of a dying soul eater.

The blond was in complete awe at the incredible distance for such an impossible shot, “Amazing.”

The demon cocked his gun and reloaded it before settling his weapon against his shoulder again. “You want to collect this one, darling?”

The tiny demon was instantly on her feet as she summoned her coral hindwings. Before Sophie could protest, Daisy had shot off like a bat out of hell.

The blonde’s hand instantly clenched the stone ledge. “Will she be alright?”

The gaucho had a knowing smile on his face, his posture completely relaxed. “I trained her myself. She may not look it, but she can be a fierce fighter.” The demon stretched his neck before he continued with the gleam of a marksman in his eyes. “Besides, I can see her just fine from here. If theirs danger, they’ll fall dead on the ground before they even knew what hit them.”

This man can be a bit frightening at times and his long range of shooting only adds to his lethalness. Sophie shivered at the cold, pulling her robe more tightly around her neck. She was tempted to go back inside, but then a wooly blanked was presented to her.

The gaucho was holding his poncho out to her. “Here, you need it more than I do.”

“Thank you,” was all she could say as she accepted his cloak. It did feel incredibly warm as soon as it was wrapped around her. 

The gaucho seemed to be contemplating on what to say next. “…I hope you still don’t hold any ill will against me. I never meant to hurt or manipulate your trust,” he took his hat off to hold against his chest where his heart would have been. “I hope you will accept my apology.”

Sophie surprised him when she reached out and clasped his shoulder. Her nose and cheeks were beginning to turn rosy from the cold but gave him a warm smile. “I understand your reasons, and I accept your apology. Please, forgive me for treating you unjustly.”

The gaucho actually looked bashful as he put his hat back on, “Aw shucks Miss Sophie—there ain’t nothin to forgive. You treated my child how I wished everyone did. For that you will always have my respect.”

The thought made Sophie tear up. “And I’m happy I got to meet your sweet girl.”

Not a moment before, a white blur flew to his side. Daisy had returned unharmed with her bag filled with souls from the soul eater’s corpse. She handed the collector the bag before sitting next to Sophie and gorge on more of her loaf of French bread.

They laughed at the petite demon that seemed to always be a bottomless pit.

*~*~*~*~

“Where they hell are they? It’s too damn quiet.”

Damion glanced over at his apprentice, the boy clearly irritated as his bent knee continued to bounce in sharp jolts. He too was feeling a similar twitch in his left brow as the night continued to tick by soundly with the occasional howl of the wind, “All the more reason to stay on your guard. They had the upper hand with their ambush; this time we’ll be ready for them.”

Rook rubbed at his black eye irritably, trying to stay calm while his blood boiled with pent up energy that was dying to be released on the ugly little beasties. He nearly jumped at a shadow that leaped across the bell towers wall. He had his blades ready and nearly fell off the ledge when the seasoned demon landed in front of him; crouching upon the stone gargoyle’s neck with balanced grace.

 Rook managed to gain his footing as he sat further back against the wall. “Fucking hell—what the fuck you want old goat!”

The old timer resisted cupping his pounding head.  “Calm yourself boy. Your squawking irritates me.” he settled himself on the ledge, making Rook uncomfortable by his close proximity.

Damion’s gaze didn’t remain long on the elder before returning his gaze upon the land. He sensed him approaching but didn’t know the old demon’s reason. “Why are you here, teacher?”

The elder nodded his crown of horns at the many building below. “My last location was inadequate; your territory lacks the decent posts for a proper look out.”

Damion couldn’t argue with his logic…didn’t mean Rook liked it any less. He still didn’t trust the demon. He was almost grateful for the sound of a soul crying to be released, giving him an excuse to put space between them. He dropped off the ledge without a word before the wind carried him off to the South.

The silence grew into minutes between the dark warriors, but surprisingly it was the elder who spoke first. “I can see how you are drawn to her. Your human…she has a special soul, the likes I have never encountered before.” For a moment Damion thought that perhaps the old demon really was beginning to see things in a new perspective…Until the one-horned demon’s gaze turned rigged.

“But don’t think this changes anything, I may be bound from speaking of this to the dark lord but your luck will run out. What you’re doing is forbidden and it will come to bite you in the ass if you don’t relinquish your attachment to her.”

Damion’s grip tightened around his weapon. “Only an old fool like you would give up so easily to please that bastard.”

The elder narrowed his eyes, “This isn’t about pleasing our lord. She doesn’t belong in our world, and it will only end in sorrow for the both of you. The fool here is you for not seeing that.”

The tension was close to snapping between them before the fragile moment was disarmed by a moon lit figure. The rustling of wings caught both demons’ attention as Rook made a landing for the ledge. With one look Damion could see that the young demon’s last retrieve was a hard one. His wings curled more around his body as if to shield him from the sudden chill to his soul, his face gravely shadowed while he tucked his chin upon his wrapped limbs. Damion cautiously reached over to clasp the boys shoulder. “You alright?” His answer was a subtle nod as Rook continued to stare ahead. His hand reached into his pocket to pull out the soul to give to Damion.

“Don’t worry about me, old man. It’s the old fart over here that needs looking after.” A small smirk flickered across Damion’s lips.

The senior of the group actually snorted at the thought but didn’t break his gaze on the sky. “Just remember Rookie, you wouldn’t have stood a chance against me if my magic wasn’t restrained in our battle.”

The young demon threw back a cocky laugh, “ Ha! If you want to go another round with me, bring it old goat! Next time I’ll shove that devil fruit right up your—!”

“—Down!”  Rook was shoved over the edge, right before the spot he was sitting at burst into flames; a strange gel clinging to the wood and stone.

“Shit!” He spat as his wings make quick work to slow his fall before he stopped to a hover. He frantically looked around to find the attacker.

“Rook,” Damion shouted, as he soared to hover beside him. A chilling shrill echoed around them, the sound coming from everywhere at once as it made ones spin shiver.

The creature showed itself at the top of the tower. Its body was that of a horned serpents skeleton and nearly the size of a horse, its wings were completely see through and torn. In its mouth was a strange metallic nozzle that mended together with its esophagus that stretched all the way down its spiny neck to its glowing blue stomach where poor souls were trapped inside as the creature used them to fuel its flames.

Rook never encountered such a creature before. “What the hell is that!?”

“Pyro,” the elder said as he made his appearance beside Rook, looking cool and collected.  “And it’s not alone.” A dozen more skeletal creatures came out of the shadows to join their companion in the sky. Their stomach’s flickering like ominous fireflies.

With his glowing spear, the elder swiftly launched a small orb of blue light into the sky to alert his subordinates. The bright light clearly distressed the screeching beasts before making a dive for them. The soul collectors didn’t even have time to come up with a plan as each bolted in a different direction.

“Damn,” Damion gritted threw his teeth as four Pyro’s stayed close on his tail. As one of them prepared to spray him with their flammable gel, he quickly pulled out one of his daggers and flung it at its expanded stomach; their biggest weak spot. The impact of the dagger made the organ collapse into itself as goo and flames spewed out of the wound and consumed the Pyro as it fell to the hard ground twenty feet below; the snow sizzling from the fire.

He wasn’t prepared for the second Pyro as it loomed over him. He tried to swing his scythe upward only to hiss through his teeth when his ribs strained.  He couldn’t counter attack! The liquid flames began to build up the beast’s throat before a loud “crack!” in the air was heard and a stone tipped whip wrapped tightly around the soul eater’s throat. Damion followed the leather rope to find it being skillfully held by the only female warrior of their party. She yanked the beast down to the ground to crash in the snow as if it were a kite. The beast was able to free itself from the whip to release the building flames and fired at the woman not ten feet from it. Without even batting an eye-lash she swirled out of the projectiles way with ease like a graceful dancer before pulling out her curved, blue-stone dagger and jammed the blade between its skull and first invertebrate; successfully disabling and killing the beast without triggering its stomach to explode and burn everything within its striking range.

She pulled her dagger free and slid it back into her hilt, fully aware of the other two Pyro’s above her. Before Damion could move to assist her she calmly told him, “Stay back.” A long, silver bracelet chain fell from her right hand with a fist-sized blue shard dangling on the end. As the beasts neared, she kicked the toe of her boot hard into the ground, making her body spin in tight circles as she balanced on one foot. The shard spun wildly around her with a trail of blue light, tearing open the two stomachs multiple times—creating escape vents to keep the blasts to a minimal. The demoness leaped into the air gracefully, avoiding the collapsing beasts as they withered in the snow.

Her long violet and ebony hair whipped around in the wind as she used her stone to call forth all the nearby souls.  Damion watched silently, impressed with her skills. She was all lean muscles with a blessed chest just like the mighty Amazons he had read about, and just as stunningly beautiful. But she had no pull on him like Sophie did; she didn’t hold a candle to Sophie’s beauty. The demoness beauty was the kind that had a deadly bite to it that you wanted to stay away from.

“Your first kill?”

 Her voice was feminine but stoic, “Soul eaters: Yes.” Her cold violet eyes looked to him with a calculating gaze. “Killing: No.”

He honestly wasn’t surprised by that. “There are more of these beasts nearby. Go help your teacher.” Damion took off in the direction he knew Rook was last.

*~*~*~

‘Crap, crap, crap!’ Rookie was flying for his life as three Pyro’s nipped at his feet. He took a desperate sharp turn into a narrow ally—its walls being littered with bare cloths lines. He was quiet the acrobat barreling, spinning, and dodging the ropes. His plan had somewhat worked when he spotted only one Pyro that was able to keep up with him.

He quickly zipped out of his hoodie and held it like a matador, waiting for the horned beast to get closer. Almost…now! He released his hoodie with perfect timing—blinding the beast as it got itself tangled up in the lines. Rook quickly shot upward, climbed before gaining momentum and landed on the beast’s back. The young demon already had his chain at the ready and wrapped tightly around the Pyro’s throat—intending to snap its neck. The beast bucked wildly as it attempted to get free; it tried to spit its gooey fire only for it to get cut off by the chain. But the beast was relentless, so Rook put all his weight into it, leaning as far back as he could, while holding the chain with one hand he drew out his sword and stabbed the beast’s stomach through its rib cage.  The spewing liquid fire nicked his skin—nearly making him drop his weapon as he quickly grabbed his hoodie and a nearby rope while the beast continued its fall.

“Ah—Ssshit!” He quickly dropped to the ground to submerge his cooking wrist in the snow, the cold instantly relieving the burn. He was lucky there was so much snow and ice this time of year or else his stunt would have burnt half the ally to the ground. He quickly got back to his task at hand, as he walked up to the dying beast as liquid fire continued to drip from its mouth. Rook swiftly stabbed the beast with his blue stone, releasing the remaining souls and putting them in his bag.

Puffs of fog billowed out of his mouth as he looked up at the cloudy sky. He needed to get to higher ground and give his wings a rest. He jumped from one wall to the other in a zigzag motion with his powerful legs until he was standing at the top of the building. Rook was absolutely freezing at this time and desperately got back into his hoodie—rubbing his arms to gain some of his body heat again. A rookie mistake when he should have been paying attention to his surroundings as a Pyro’s jaw widened—intending to strike at the soul collector’s neck from behind with a silent attack; like a snake striking a unsuspecting mouse.

It reared its head back—ready to strike the finishing blow—

A “BANG!” echoed across the sky, a blue light whizzing right through the Pyro’s skull. Rook spun around in time to hear another shot and a second blue light dislocated the beast’s skull from its body before it fell in a heap at Rookie’s feet. He looked dumbfound at the fallen beast.

 “No way,” He couldn’t believe it, but it was. He found the two stone bullets in the snow that belonged to only one demon.  He looked in the direction of the mansion, it was barely visible in this weather, but somehow that cocky, nosey soul collector made that impossible shot. Twice! It had to have been almost two miles!

That’s twice Rook owed the gaucho.

‘Looks like I got a guardian angel watching over me tonight, and he brought the big guns.’ He tucked away the two bullets into his pocket to give back to the gaucho, later.

“Rook!” Damion shouted as he finally found him in all of this chaos. He quickly inspected the boy’s arm when he smelled burnt flesh. Thankfully the wound wasn’t too deep in the skin, just a harsh red with a couple of forming blisters and oozing red welts.

He shrugged out of Damion’s inspecting hold as he collected the souls. “It’s fine, old man.” Rook looked out across the top of the buildings searching for the others. “Man this place has gone to hell,” he stated as he felt the village’s very soul in disarray, the people’s fear as they heard the conflict outside their flimsy homes and  huddled together helplessly behind their walls. 

“Their moving west,” Damion stated as he sensed this former teacher’s whereabouts, “He has a hoard of Pyro’s nearly on top of him. We need to cut them off up ahead and end this before this gets out of control.”

 Before they were about to head off in that direction the sky began to growl and shake; becoming charged with power. Both demons became captivated at the sight above them. The clouds turned into eerie shades of black and electric blue, as they churned around one another while a lone figure hovered at its center with a pair of daggers; his blue Mohawk becoming highlighted by the charging atmosphere.

 A Pyro charged the soul collector head on. The demon lifted his blade towards the soul eater, while his other blade was pointed towards the heavens. Pure energy shot down, coursing through his body before he redirected it at the Pyro. Lightening shot through the beast, its stomach and bones burning to ash before the Pyro plummeted; its mouth smoking as souls escaped from their prison. Soon other Pyro’s took notice of the lightening wielder and either fled or attacked; neither group stood a chance as lightening stretched across the sky, branching out to skewer all Pyro’s in its path; while narrowly missing the rooftops of the buildings. The skies literally began to rain down burning corpses and souls.

“Okay, now that’s impressive,” Rook said as he watched the whole thing. He tapped Damion with his elbow. “Hey old man, when are you going to teach me that spell?”

“When you grow up.” He ignored Rook’s immature gesture, as he rubbed at his eye with a middle finger.

Though impressed, Damion was peeved at the rookie’s recklessness. ‘He could have incinerated the whole village with that one spell.’ This soul collector was far too flashy in Damion opinion. He needed to reel in his power before Damion did it for him.

 But now was not the time.

Damion gripped Rook’s shoulder as he ordered, “Stay here, and make sure he doesn’t burn down the village.” Damion turned away from the firework display, flying westward where he could still sense his teacher’s presence.

*~*~*

No matter what he did he couldn’t shake them. He breathing became erratic, he was actually sweating, and if he didn’t know any better he think he were about to vomit.

Something’s wrong.  Why was he struggling to stay a flight? Was his head injury affecting his stability?

The pounding in his skull doubled when he made a sharp turn; pushing all his blood away from his head. The stunt made his vision blur and double as his body went limp before involuntarily jerking up again. If he didn’t think of something quick he would black out.

One of the Pyro’s throats began to glow as it prepared to spit its liquid fire.

Thinking on pure instinct he flew straight at a tall building’s base—the pair of Pyro’s staying right on him. Just when it looked like he was about to collide with the stone walls—“Poof” he disappeared into a puff of black smoke; creating the perfect cover as the Pyro’s blindly smashed into the wall before being engulfed in their own flames.  

At the top of the tower stood, the victor, as the elder leaned on his spear for support, taking deep, steady breaths as he waiting for feeling to come back to his legs. He gripped his stomach before empting his stomach of tea and newly developed stomach acid. When his stomach finally settled he could only take a few steps before having to sit down.

He continued to greedily take in the crisp air while his hands tried to seize the shaking in his knees. Just when he thought he could rest, as hellish sight nearly consumed him; one of the surviving Pyro’s came from nowhere as it hung from the edge—its body completely engulfed in flames as it released a bone chilling screech before snapping and striking at the soul collector; he knew he wouldn’t be able escape in time, and he couldn’t attack with his spear just out of his reach.

A blazing crimson shield of light protected him from the Pyro, and he became completely bewildered to find Damion protecting him from the surprise attack. He managed to hold off the beast before Damion pushed it back and cut the demon down with his scythe.

The elder was at a loss for words for what just happened. The only words he could form were, “Is that an olden stone?” His eyes never leaving the crimson pebble strapped to Damion’s wrist.

“It is.” Damion held his hand out to help his teacher up, while spotting the stained gauze around the elder’s horn. “You’re bleeding again.”

When he was steady on his feet, the elder lightly touched his horn to find his fingers coated with his blood. “Damn,” he muttered.

All around them was finally quiet. “We have won this night, but it is not over. Given what you’ve just seen, you know I speak the truth and it will only get worse if we don’t eliminate it at its source.”

The elder nodded his head in agreement. There was no denying what he had seen was completely out of the norm for soul eater’s behavior. The mindless beasts shouldn’t have overcome them so easily, but they did.

He could see only one solution to their increasingly growing problem. “I have a proposition for you…Damion.”

(complete! Yay on with the next ch.!