Pale Demon

“Take it back! Take it back!” Ku’Sox demanded, and I propped myself up on an elbow to see him standing before me, stiff with fear.

I looked at the blood on my hand, then back to him, the sun in his face and the ocean behind him, the sky full of birds. “You lose, Ku’Sox,” I said, panting as I started to smile. “I banish you. Get out of my reality.”

“No!” he screamed, lunging at me.

My hands came up to fend him off, and just as his weight fell on me, I felt the line take us. He was taking me with him!

Shit, I thought, floundering as I reoriented myself, then clenched in pain as my bubble snapped into place around us. His hot anger made clouds of agony and hate rise from his mind, like the choking stink of decay. He gripped my consciousness, dragging me with him, and I felt my soul shiver in pain at the fire he poured into me.

Take it back! he demanded. Or I’ll kill you here!

Try, I thought, then screamed as he began to shred my memories. I caught glimpses of my life as he burned them, taking them as his own. A blue-eyed tiger at the zoo, pacing to me as if he could walk right through the glass—and it was gone. A birthday at the hospital, him standing in the background as I blew out the candles and wished for a day without weakness—gone. One by one, Ku’Sox found my most happy thoughts and ate them, ate my soul.

Take it back, he seethed, shredding me, cutting me down to the bare bones of myself. Take it back or we’ll die here together.

Gentleman’s choice, I thought grimly, then punched a hole right through my protective bubble.

Infinity screamed in at us, and he let go of my mind, pushing me away as we floundered. Pain like no other crippled our thoughts. It was as exquisite an agony as angels singing the beginnings of the world, exploding the idea of infinity into reality, stripping my aura from me in sheets, scouring it layer by layer. I struggled to keep myself together.

The howling of the demons lost in the lines before us echoed, their voices caught in the moment of death forever. Out! Ku’Sox’s soul shrieked, and I clutched it, a point of common ground amid the absence of anything but pain. He was struggling to keep his aura, failing. He couldn’t get out of the line and was already dead. For all his strength, he didn’t love, couldn’t manage to tune his aura to another’s, giving all, trusting. And suddenly it struck me that only the demons who knew how to love had survived.

Al, I thought, shocked to find it was a strong enough connection. A glimmer of light pierced the black pain, and Ku’Sox clawed at it, gouging my soul until memories leaked from me like tears. I’m opening the line, I thought, and Ku’Sox struggled, striving to get through the hole, failing as he ran into a barrier he couldn’t see.

I’m opening the line! I thought more stridently. I’m saving your life, Ku’Sox. Remember that!

I’ll kill you! he screamed, a vow to fulfill. You are dead. Dead!

Dead to you, I agreed. You will leave me and those I love alone forever! I demanded, bits of me drifting off, motes of thought sparkling in the nothing. Promise or I’ll let you die here!

You are dead, he sobbed, the words becoming a promise, not a threat, capitulating as his soul began to burn. You are dead to me. You and yours are safe.

I started to shift his aura to match Al’s, hard though the sound-never-heard beat at us, and the colors no one had seen blinding me. Good, I thought savagely. Because if you ever touch anyone I care about again, I’ll find you. And then I’ll dropkick you back in here to die with the rest of them.

A pinprick of an opening began, and he slipped from me, darting through it and closing it behind him like a trap.

He was gone. Alone, I writhed in pain, trying to scrape together enough memories to tune my own aura. I had to get out before I was shredded to nothing. I wasn’t going to go to Al, who was now playing patty-cake with Ku’Sox.

The memories of those who meant the most to me flashed through my mind: Memories of Jenks, smirking at me, his hands on his hips as the sun lit his hair. The soft smile Ivy would allow herself when she thought no one could see. Trent, his face showing love as he held his daughter—and then his powerful grace when he sat atop a horse, the hounds baying and the moon lording over it all. And Pierce, a single wistful thought of a touch I’d never feel again, the soft sound of another’s breathing against mine. I couldn’t have him, and he loved me anyway.

One by one, I fastened on them as a way out, and one by one, my memories were ripped away by the energy screaming through me, burning until I realized that my aura was gone. There was nothing left for the line to recognize. I couldn’t think fast enough, and I was going to die here amid the screeching of unbalanced energies and the forgotten souls of demons who couldn’t love. In utter agony, I curled my memories around what was left and tried to see past the pain, to form another thought to prove that I wasn’t dead yet. But it was too late, and terror struck me when my thoughts gave a hiccup, vanishing for an instant, then returning weaker than before.

Ms. Morgan! a panicked thought touched mine, and recoiled, leaving the scent of rock chips in the sun.

Bis? Mindless from the pain, I felt my soul start to burn. The sensation of dry grit and the sharp feel of ion- charged water grew stronger. I felt him wrap his soul around me, and yet I still burned.

Help me, Bis, I managed, and then with a ping, the shattered remnants of my soul shifted.

Thirty

I screamed, raw and pained, and it was real. My agony was joined by a woman’s startled cry and the sudden wailing of a baby. My face plowed into a tile floor, and my arms and legs went askew. Flat on my stomach, I lay on cold tile and burned, the salt-laden air cauterizing my skin. Above me, the drafts from Bis’s wing beats burned across my shoulders, and I moaned. Make it stop. Please.

“Help her!” the gargoyle cried out, and I sobbed with relief when he settled beside me and it was only the salt in the air that burned my skin. I was on fire, and I tried to move, the slippery sheen sliding under me.

“My God. Rachel?”

It was Trent, and I started to cry. Bis had found me and taken me to Trent. I couldn’t get up. Every breath hurt. Someone was having hysterics, and Lucy—it had to be Lucy—was crying at the top of her lungs, frightened by the noise.

“She’s burned!” Bis was saying, and my body started to shake as I curled into a ball. “She was in the lines. I felt her burning, and it woke me up. I found her. Got her out. Please pick her up. She needs help.”

I sucked in the air in giant heaves, recognizing the sound of surf over the unmistakable commotion of a frightened woman being ushered out. I was with Trent. Where were we?

“Ms. Morgan!” Bis babbled, and a spasm shook me when his clawed hand touched me and the broken lines of San Francisco exploded in me.

“Bis! Don’t touch her!” Trent shouted, and a door shut. The crying baby and the woman were gone.

“Her aura is gone,” Bis said, and I sobbed in relief when his fingers fell away. Oh God, it hurt. “Someone needs to hold her, give her an aura. That’s why I brought her to you. I saw your aura in the kitchen. It’s the same as hers. Her mind might not know the difference. She really hurts, Mr. Kalamack. Please!”

I slowly began to realize that I was out of the lines. Bis had found me and pulled me out. But I was raw. My soul was leaking. I had no aura to protect it. I was dying. But at least I was in the sun. I was in the sun? With Bis?

I tried to open my eyes a crack, seeing green tile and the soft movement of a white curtain. Bis had found me