The Innocent: Chapter 12 (Patreon)

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Chapter 12

Kyla

My feet thundered across the carpet for the countless time, and I reached the end of my dorm room and wheeled around to pace back the opposite direction. Abby should arrive any minute to tell us what she found – and she had found something, I heard it in her voice when she called. But it was taking her forever. She’d been at the Council office all day. She’d missed dinner, and it was dark out and whatever information she had could save Camille’s life.

“Kyla,” Luna groaned as I passed where she was sitting on the bed again, “you’re driving me nuts.”

"Sorry." I stopped in the middle of the room, but I didn’t know what else to do, so I stood there shifting on my feet.

Until Camille reached out from her seat on the edge of the desk. “Come here.” I went over, and let her turn me around and pull me back against her so she could wrap her arms around my waist. “She’ll be here soon.”

I nodded, absorbing her warmth and her forced calm and cherishing the way she nuzzled into the back of my neck. It relaxed me enough that I didn’t fidget so much for the remaining minutes that we waited. Fourteen minutes, to be exact, which was eight minutes longer than it should’ve taken for her to arrive. The moment she knocked on my dorm room door, I paced over and threw it open, a breathed ‘finally’ on the tip of my tongue.

“Don’t say it,” Abby muttered, brushing past me into the room. “My dad caught me on my way out of the office and had questions and wanted to know the plan and why I was rushing out and who I was in such a hurry to see.” She groaned and fell onto her back on the bed. The rest of us just stared at her, watching her lie there for almost a minute before realizing nobody had said anything. She sat up again, glancing around at us.

“Well?” Luna prompted.

“You know what we’re up against?” I asked.

Abby nodded. "I spent the whole day compiling information from the most obscure sources. God, it took forever.”

It was clear she’d been working hard and that she only wanted a minute to catch her breath, but we’d been waiting forever, and I was anxious. “And?”

She inhaled deeply, letting the breath out slowly before finally answering, “Deof nos neadwoz, like I thought. Demon of inevitable punishment.”

Luna said, “Did I mention demons are worse than ghosts?”

“You’re not wrong,” Abby agreed. “Its sole purpose is to avenge wrongful deaths in a ritual, but it serves both the victim and the killer.”

“What do you mean?” Camille asked.

“It seeks justice for the wronged, but it also ensures that the wrongdoer is cleansed and rested in peace.”

“With the ritual,” I said.

Abby nodded. “The ritual calls for spirit of the crime, spirit of innocence lost, and spirit of justice. In this case, the items related to the crime – the alcohol, the bullet, the hex bag – and the sentimental items related to innocence – Devon’s girlfriend’s bracelet, the picture of Alvin’s daughter, Bonnie’s stuffed animal-”

“Lacey’s keychain,” Camille whispered, and Abby’s downward glance was confirmation enough.

“But what would your spirit of the crime be?” Luna asked Camille. “You killed him with your teeth.” My eyes widened, a similar look of horror crossing Abby’s face as Camille visibly shuddered, her lips pursing tight. Luna prompted in distraction, “What is the spirit of justice?”

“The blood,” I answered readily, “on their foreheads.”

“Right,” Abby said. “The demon’s blood, or, you know, Constance’s.”

“Why move the bodies to the murder sites?” Camille asked.

“To prevent exactly what Luna was afraid of – vengeful ghosts. If a victim’s spirit lingers where they were killed, by showing them that their murder was avenged, the demon sets them free.” Abby pulled her legs onto the bed and folded them beneath her. “The cemetery was a deliberate spot for the ritual, too. Once our killers are cleansed, they’re killed – at the graveyard – where they can be at rest.”

"How did Patrick summon the demon, though?” Camille asked. “I thought it was summoned through murder.”

“It’s supposed to be,” Abby confirmed. “Everything this demon does operates on a what-goes-around-comes-around cycle. If someone wants revenge or justice enough that they’re willing to summon it, then they have to be willing to pay the ultimate price.”

“Patrick clearly was,” Luna pointed out.

“Yeah, but he was supposed to sacrifice someone else, and in doing so, become a killer himself. It would summon the demon to possess him, giving him the means to carry out justice, and once it was done, the cycle would end with Patrick’s death. Only, I guess he couldn’t kill someone else and murdered himself instead, leaving the demon without a host.”

“So…” I asked, “it possessed the next closest person?”

“Exactly.”

“Didn’t I say that?” Luna exclaimed. “I told you she was possessed!”

“And I feel pretty damn stupid. It was right there this whole time.” Abby shrugged. “The demon had to be masking her scent, too, just like it was masking her thoughts. That’s why none of you could catch it and track her.”

"How'd she survive getting shot?” Luna asked.

"Possession typically makes the host able to withstand a lot of damage,” Abby answered. “Had the demon left her right after she got shot, she would’ve died, but healing’s accelerated. By now the wounds are probably completely gone.”

“But why hasn’t the cycle ended?” Camille asked. “Devon is dead, that’s who the demon was summoned to kill.”

“That’s the thing I’m not so sure about,” Abby said. “I think it’s because Constance isn’t the one who summoned it. It killed Devon, but it doesn’t know who it was summoned for anymore, so it’s killing everyone it can. And Constance is technically an innocent, and this being is all about innocence. It can’t willingly end its possession without killing the host.”

"She’s as much a victim in this as anyone," Camille murmured.

Abby nodded. “We have to try getting the demon out of her, but to do that, we have to find her.”

“What should we do?” I asked.

“Well,” Abby said and then hesitated, “...we know for sure who she’s after…”

There was a pause, but the moment it sank in what she meant, I shook my head. “No way. It ain’t happening.”

“Kyla,” Abby protested, “we-”

The lights in the room flickered, and a moment later, all the power shut off with a whir. It wasn’t just our room, either. The hallway outside my door was dark too, and I’d never experienced a power outage at this school, not even during storms. It was so unexpected that none of us said anything for a long minute. We stayed there in silence, waiting for the power to come back on, growing more tense every second that it didn’t because the timing was too perfect to be a coincidence.

"This ain’t normal…" I said.

“The school has backup generators,” Abby added. “Unless they’re broken…”

“You mean unless somebody destroyed them,” Luna said.

Camille rose from her seat at the edge of the desk. “We should check it out.”

“I don’t think you should leave the room,” I told her. “If Constance did this, she’s likely waiting for you out there.”

Camille inhaled to counter, but Abby said, “I agree with Kyla.”

“You were just about to suggest using me as bait!” Camille argued.

“Yeah,” Abby agreed, “in a controlled setting where you’d hardly be in danger. Nothing about this is under our control.” She pulled out her cellphone, turning on the camera light so she could see us. “I’m not risking you. The safest place for you is in here.”

"With me here to defend you,” I added.

"Someone should at least see to the generators and make sure it was sabotage,” Luna said.

“I know where they’re at,” Abby said to her, “we’ll go. We should check on Noah too.” Luna nodded, and they both climbed off the bed and moved to the door.

I immediately pulled off my shirt, and while Abby looked anywhere but at me and directed her light elsewhere, Camille asked, “What are you doing?”

“Preparing for a fight,” I answered, unhooking my bra and tossing it to the floor. “I’ll be damned if she’s getting her hands on you.”

She reached for the hem of her shirt too, but before she could pull it over her head, Abby said, “Stay human.” Camille hesitated. “We need to be able to call you.” Camille settled back onto the desk with a grumble, and Abby avoided looking at me while she said, “And you have to try not to bite her.”

“What?” I asked. Constance was too strong and fast for me to stand a chance as human, but how was I supposed to fight her as a wolf if I couldn’t use my teeth?

“Without the demon possessing her, she’s still human,” Abby said. “She’s a victim too, remember?”

“Then I won’t kill her,” I said, discarding my jeans and underwear, “but my teeth are my best chance at keeping Camille alive.”

“Abby’s right,” Camille said. “Survival rate decreases with each successive bite. You’re second line, bitten, so her chances of dying or going rabid are at least fifty percent.”

“You’re just now telling me this?” I asked.

“What?” she quipped. “Were you planning on biting someone?”

“Kyla,” Abby cut in, “we also don’t know how the bite reacts under influence of possession. We shouldn’t risk it.”

I sighed, focusing on the already building tingle beneath my skin. “Fine,” I said. “I won’t break skin.” It’d be fighting every instinct I had to protect Camille no matter the cost, but I’d try. I let the Phase overcome me. The tingling seared through me in a flash of agony as flesh and bone and muscle shifted and changed, becoming wolf in the blink of an eye. I hit the carpet on all fours, the power of this form coursing through every cell of my body. Be careful, I thought, striding forward to nudge my snout beneath Abby’s hand, call if there’s trouble.

She finally looked at me, scanning my new body and then meeting my gaze. Her hand stroked up my muzzle, fingers brushing through the golden fur on my head for a few moments while she held my eyes. Then her focus flicked briefly to Camille, and when she looked at me again, she said, “We’ll be back soon.”

I pressed up against her palm in acknowledgment, and she and Luna disappeared into the dark hall, closing the door behind them. The path I’d been wearing into the carpet earlier called to me. I stalked across the room, my ears perked forward to listen for any sign of danger, and as I turned around to start back toward Camille, she let out a soft laugh.

“Don’t start that again,” she said. But I was tense, and when I reached her and made to turn once more, she threw her arms around my neck. She pulled me to her, hugging me against her chest and chuckling, “Ow,” when I nipped the underside of her chin with protest. “Try to relax,” she pleaded, her voice losing its hint of playfulness. “I need you to pretend I’m going to be fine, even if I’m not.”

And when she said that, when I focused past my own stress and protectiveness, I felt it in the connection. The blunt ache of fear. I nuzzled my snout up under her chin, pushing down the restlessness of my instincts to try and comfort her. She settled the weight of her head down on mine and hugged me with one arm, her other hand caressing through the fur along my neck and chest.

“I’m sorry I got impatient with you just now,” she said. “I should’ve told you sooner that your bite’s more dangerous than mine.” She sighed, continuing the strokes against my chest that were soothing for us both. “There was a lot to teach you about turning, and I’m sure there’s still things I’m forgetting. I just… I’m not going to remember all at once, but I didn’t keep it from you on purpose.”

I leaned my body deeper into her, nuzzling again into her chin to let her know it was forgiven. Her arms curled around me, hugging me to her with reception. We stayed there in silence for a few minutes, hoping to hear from Luna and Abby, before Camille let out a heavy breath like she needed a distraction.

“I feel dumb hiding in here while they’re out investigating,” she said. “I’m not used to avoiding a fight.” She let me go to reach up and grab my ears. “Doesn’t help that I can’t Phase. Rubbing on you just isn’t the same.” I shoved forward past her hands, mopping the full length of my head and neck against her face, shifting over to the other side to do the same. She laughed, grabbing my jowls to push me off. “See? You got hair in my mouth.” She clutched the back of my neck just long enough to kiss the top of my head, and then stood so she could begin pacing. She crossed the room, rounding about again to come back my direction. “I hate magic,” she muttered, starting her second march. “Don’t tell Abby, but I’m kind of glad she’s bad at it.”

I let out a wolfish snort of laughter, and then laid myself on the floor with my hind legs tucked under me, ready to spring up at the first sign of trouble. Camille paced, and I alternated between watching her and staring at the door. Several more long, tense minutes passed with no word from Abby or Luna, no sign that the power would come back on, and no movement from outside the door. It got worse every second. Camille’s patrol made me even more restless, though for her sake I tried not to show it and stayed on the floor, but I’d have thought Luna and Abby would’ve at least texted first thing to say whether the generators had been sabotaged or not.

Eventually, I couldn’t take it anymore, and rose with a frustrated growl. I cantered over to Camille and nosed the cellphone in her pocket. “Yeah,” she agreed, pulling it out, “it’s been too long.” She called a number, and the line rang five times before going to Luna’s voicemail. She called another, and there was another handful of aggravating rings before Abby’s mailbox kicked in. She called Luna’s number again, and when there was still no answer, she huffed and strode to the window. “Where are they?” She called Abby a second time, but no one picked up. For some reason, Camille took in a sharp breath and wheeled around, her eyes fixing on me. “Abby’s protection charm was missing,” she murmured, “her dad made it for her…” There was a tense silence. “And the office got broken into.” Her gaze fell to the floor. “But she’s never…” There was a short pause before her fists balled at her sides, her eyes going wide with panic. “Constance took a bullet from the Council armory. We have to go find them. Now.”

She turned for the exit, but no sooner than she had, there was the barest creak of a floorboard from out in the hall. We both froze with our stares trained on the door, listening for another sound. “Luna?” Camille whispered. Nothing. “Abby?”

The door handle ticked just slightly like it’d been grabbed, and even though a warning rumble started deep in my chest, it didn’t deter whoever was on the other side. The knob turned, and the door eased open until there was space enough for a figure to slip into the dark room.

Constance shut herself in with us, saying as calmly as ever, “Hello.” I snarled, vaulting myself between her and Camille. “I refuse to hurt you, Kyla,” she said, “but Camille will come.”

“Like hell I will,” Camille spat. The rigid burn of her rising Change carried to me, and I snapped my jaws in agreement. “Where’s Abby and my sister?”

“This is for your own good,” Constance said. “You’ll see that in the beyond.”

A roar tore from Camille’s chest, accompanying the loud rip of clothing as a dark brown wolf burst forth. She landed on four paws at my side, and we both snarled our challenge.

“Fine,” she said, pulling a knife from the rear waist of her jeans that was already coated in blood.

An inhale through my nose made my stomach sink. That knife, that blood smelled like Abby, and the very sight of it slashed my heart in two. Abby was hurt. She could be dying. I wanted so badly to go and find her, to make sure she was okay, but I couldn’t let Constance take Camille, couldn’t bring myself to leave Camille’s side even if I tried, and the conflict wrenched a desperate whine from my throat.

In the dark, Constance followed my eyes to the knife, her upper lip curling when she’d deciphered my reaction. “I disapprove of your choices, Kyla.”

There wasn’t time, and as important as it was to try and save Constance, Camille and Abby’s lives were far too important to me. I was going to end this. I launched myself forward, leading with my paws to try and take Constance down, jaws wide and ready to bite if she made it tough. But just when I should’ve collided with her chest, there was empty space. I adjusted myself in midair quick enough to land on my feet instead of hitting the door, and wheeled around to face Constance, who’d crossed to the other side of the room so fast that I couldn’t tell if she’d jumped or teleported.

Camille’s teeth were bared in threat, and we’d hunted together so many times that I knew by heart the exact moment the building tension in her muscles would snap. I knew the very fraction of a second that she’d spring, and when it hit, I sprang too. We both threw ourselves toward her in a timed attack. I’d been aiming to close my jaws around her shoulder, but when my teeth snapped down, they snapped down empty. She’d twisted her body in a way to dodge my bite as she grabbed Camille by the shoulder with her free hand, using the momentum to send Camille arcing over her and crashing into the wall.

Camille had taken harder hits than that, and she recovered and bounced off the wall at the same time as I twisted to snap another bite. Constance dodged me too, but Camille managed to knock into her and take them both to the floor. She threw Camille off her as they rolled across the small room, regaining her feet as Camille smashed into the desk.

She was fast – too fast – and even though Camille and I went in for strike after strike, she avoided or countered nearly all of them. We couldn’t coordinate our attacks because she threw off our rhythm with attacks of her own. The hit of a closed fist to Camille’s head, the slash of her knife to Camille’s body, a powerful throw into any furniture she could to slow Camille down. But she never hit me harder than she needed to. She ducked and redirected, or shoved me to the floor when necessary, but she never did more than bruise.

At the next nick of the knife through Camille’s thick fur, I decided I could use Constance’s unwillingness to hurt me to our advantage. I stopped trying to catch her with my teeth, and threw my body at her instead, making myself as large as possible and hoping it would slow her down. Every time she knocked me back to my feet, I swirled and lurched around her, throwing any part of my body that I could into her path so she couldn’t reach Camille.

Camille caught on, adjusting her attacks to dodging in and out with as little of her body exposed as possible. She whipped her head on forward thrusts to try and slash with her teeth, and though Constance dodged each score, Camille ducked back out before she could retaliate and while I delivered a bodily blow of my own. After a few cycles of it, Constance howled her frustration. She grabbed me on Camille’s backward skip, hurling me clear across the room and reaching for Camille before I’d even hit the carpet.

She slammed her fist into Camille’s shoulder right as Camille had been about to lunge. It threw Camille’s balance off, and Constance pushed her to the floor and tossed herself over Camille’s middle, raising her arm into the air. As she landed with her knees on either side of Camille’s body, she brought her fist down with her momentum and weight and strength, hitting Camille so hard in the head it knocked her out instantly.

I roared, not caring that I hadn’t regained my feet enough to get as much leverage and speed as I could. I hurled myself forward clumsily, missing Constance as she side-stepped and wrapped her arm around my neck from behind. The crushing strength of her arm closed around my throat and cut off my air. I fought in her grip, twisting and thrashing against her to try and break free, but even my advantage of size didn’t help. She held tight, choking me until my lungs burned and my vision got blurry. Until my muscles grew too tired and weak to struggle.

“Sleep now,” she murmured, and everything went black.

Abby's Journal #6

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