Darker Days

the rest of them?”

He glared at me, obviously annoyed I’d poked a planet-sized hole in his story. “My situation was different from theirs.”

“No offense, but that’s what they all say.” I waited, expecting him to continue—but he didn’t.

Mom, apparently thinking the same thing I did, said, “I’m going to need a bit more than that.”

“I wasn’t taken over by Wrath in the same way the others were—I had it forced on me. It was fused to my soul by witchcraft.”

“Fused with your soul,” I repeated. “’Cause that doesn’t sound phony…”

His eyes went wide. “Are you accusing me of lying?”

“I dunno—are you lying?”

Mom flashed me a warning glare, then turned back to Lukas. “Please continue.”

“In 1882, one of the times the Sins were released, Wrath infected a man. A local farmer’s son. It grew fond of the body it had stolen, and all the perks that came with it, so it sought a way to keep them. A local witch devised a spell to transfer his essence to someone else.”

“I still don’t get it,” I said, feeling thick. “How could a witch have done that? How could she have separated him?”

“She made him human by stripping the demonic aspect from his essence and transferring it to me.” He flashed me a look of mock sympathy. “It’s something only a witch of immense power could manage. I understand if it’s too difficult an idea to wrap your head around.”

I opened my mouth—then closed it. I had a feeling I’d just been insulted. Politely insulted, but still. Insulted.

“Wrath and I inhabit the same space.” He tapped his chest. “We coexist here. I’m vulnerable to its weakness—being tethered to the box and the limits that entails—but when out, unlike the bodies the other Sins infect, I’m not a puppet. I maintain control. Mostly…”

Mostly? That sounded like a warning label in the making. “So is that the only thing that makes you different from the others? That you have control?”

His expression went from annoyed to I’m about to go postal. “The thing that makes me different is that I don’t belong in that box. I’m human. If the time runs out and the Sins are recalled by the box, they’ll take the bodies they’ve infected with them. Those bodies will be destroyed, their souls—their essences —fed upon by the Sins. Because Wrath and I magically inhabit the same space, my body is spared. It goes into a sort of stasis until the box is opened again and we’re set free.”

Mom studied him for a moment. I knew what she was doing—looking for tells. A flinch here, a twitch there. Something to show he was lying. “Okay, so back to my father. Let’s say you’re telling the truth and he agreed to your terms. He would aid you in gaining your freedom in exchange for helping him capture the others. What happened?”

Lukas gave me one final scowl, then focused on Mom. “I’m sure when Joseph originally made the deal, he was planning to betray me, but we grew close. Became friends. When it came time to lock the box, we decided to transfer Wrath to the person who’d opened it—a priest who thought he could use the Sins for his own gain. It seemed like a fitting punishment for all the lives lost.”

“I’m guessing,” Mom said, “that this is somehow connected to the Wells family you’re searching for, correct?”

“I was betrayed,” he growled. “Joseph discovered that since the spell which fused Wrath to me was made with blood—Meredith Wells’ blood—only someone of the same bloodline would be able to remove it. We tracked down a direct descendant named Mary Wells and procured her aid.”

“And she wasn’t able to do the spell?”

“She chose not to do the spell. We found her and gathered the items needed with only hours to spare.” Fingers knotted tight, he slammed a fist against the desk. Mom’s pencil holder wobbled and toppled sideways, spilling pens and markers across the surface. “When the time came, she insisted Joseph leave the room. As the pull of the box became too strong, she smiled and said I was destined to rot forever. She let the box take me with a smile on her face.”

“Not to paint my father in a bad light, but how do you know he didn’t set you up? Human or not, you’re still tainted by an unspeakable evil. Something that powerful always leaves a mark. Maybe he wasn’t willing to take the risk.”

Lukas’ eyes widened, and I felt kind of bad for him in that moment. The thought that Grandpa might have duped him had never crossed his mind.

I knew why Mom was asking. Poking the lion, she’d once called it. See if you can push buttons and get a reaction. Any reaction.

Lukas shook his head, resolved. “I don’t believe that.” And he didn’t. I could hear the certainty in his voice. He’d trusted Grandpa completely.

Mom was quiet for a few moments. I could almost see the wheels turning. “Say we agree to help you. How will we find the other Sins? And what is it you truly wish to get out of this?”

“I can find the Sins,” he said. “I’ve spent an eternity in their company. I know their—habits. Also, when close enough, I can sense them. As to what I wish—that’s simple. I want my freedom. I want you to track down a Wells witch and ensure she unbinds me from the box.”

Mom frowned. “You’re asking me to condemn an innocent person to take your place. I assume you’ll understand my refusal to pluck a random stranger off the street.”

“I suggest sticking to Joseph’s plan. The person who opened the box and released this hell should be the one to replace me. You’ll see soon enough—it’s what the individual deserves.”

“You said they saw a girl leaving the church the night the box was stolen, right Ma?”

She nodded in confirmation, but Lukas shook his head. “It was a man who opened the box, not a girl.”

“Well, thanks for that, Jonny Sunshine. That puts us back to square zero.”

Mom rolled her eyes. “Do you remember anything about him?”

Lukas frowned. “I’m sorry, no. It happened so fast. I remember he was tall. Also, he had a strange beard. That’s all.”

Mom thought about it for a minute. I knew how her mind worked. She was going over the possibilities. No doubt she felt sympathetic to Lukas’ situation, but could she really trade him for someone else—no matter how deserving they were?

She tended to see more shades of gray than I did. Her take on things was that, if someone did bad, there was a deep-seated reason behind it. Something in their lives had made them that way. She was convinced they needed help, not punishment. Me? Bad was bad. That’s not to say I was strictly black and white, but I didn’t see the range in people she did. Most of the time, I was ashamed of my lack of faith in humanity. Growing up, Mom was the perfect role model for honesty and integrity. I guess I’d just inherited my dad’s darker outlook.

“And payment?” I asked to fill the silence. Silence always made me itch. And hey, a girl had to eat.

And pay for damages inflicted.

Mom kind of glared at me but didn’t object. She couldn’t. With the damage I did on a daily basis, I’d put us into a position that the jobs she’d normally take as public charity—the epic kind that prevented massive body counts and uber-bloodshed—were a thing of the past.

Lukas looked shocked. I guess no one had ever told him nothing in life was free. “I—I have no money…”

Mom shook her head. “Ignore my daughter, please. Payment won’t be necessary. This is not something we can ignore.”

Seven Sins.

Six innocent people.

Five days.

Piece of cake…