Demon's Mark (The Solomon Legacy: Book One)

Chapter Ten

There was a war waging in my modestly sized, single-level Cape Cod-style home and ceramic roosters were taking the most damage as both sides tried to take each other's heads off with ginormous Dungeons and Dragons swords.

"Mom!"

I was trying to snap her out of her frozen state but nothing was working. The demon Levi's hold on her and every nearby inanimate object (except the rooster cookie jar that just shattered into dust by the kitchen sink) was too strong and I couldn't break it.

"Mom," I screamed in her general direction again. "We gotta get out of here!"

Still nothing.

Every cell in my body screamed for me to run like hell, but there was no chance I was going to abandon my pregnant mother and since I couldn't move her, I stood near her and watched the madness in the kitchen through a cutout window in the dining room. It was nucking futs.

The demon was standing on the marble-topped kitchen island and had somehow found his own sick-looking scythe from somewhere inside his lounge coat. Rhys, the boys from the party and their professor had him surrounded and were attacking like some choreographed dance of death. The only problem was that none of it was working and it was as though Levi was two or three steps ahead of them.

He jumped, parried, tip-toed and basically cha-cha-ed his way around the ground crew as they hacked and cleaved at his feet.

And since when did high school boys and their drama teacher swing ancient swords like a troupe of freaky gladiators?

Levi jumped high and then across the kitchen from the island to the long countertop that held a bunch of appliances

"Enough!" Levi laughed, obviously enjoying the melee. "Enough! Michael, your boys have much to learn and you're getting slow in your old age. Better luck next time, yeah?"

With that, a huge wall of flames scorched the marble island and the ceiling above it and the demon Levi was gone. They hadn't put a scratch on him, but they'd obvious distracted him enough that he was going to leave me alone for the time being and be on his sulfuric way.

When the smoke literally cleared and the rest of the house was searched for any more surprises, Rhys backed me away from my mother a few steps while Professor Haira put his hand gently on the top of her head and mumbled a few words.

Life sprang back into motion in both my mother and the figurines on the table in the hallway from earlier as both crashed back into real time without much grace.

"What the holy loving hell is going on here?" My mom finally managed to scream.

"Hello, Stephanie," Haira said to her. He wasn't smiling, but the tone wasn't unkind.

I half expected my mom to try to manually kick all four of these guys out of our house on their heads, but instead she sat back down and put her hands over her mouth.

She recognized Haira.

"No," she whispered.

Sadness flickered in the man's eyes as he nodded. I struggled to keep up.

"You know him?" I asked her. She squeaked out a yes but hushed me with a wave of her hand when I tried to pepper her with all my questions at once.

"We need to talk," Haira said to my mother. She agreed. He looked to Rhys and gave a pointed look. Unlike me, Rhys took hints well and gently led me from the living room toward the back of the house.

"Where can we sit for a minute?" He asked, noting the demolished kitchen.

"My room, I guess," I mumbled woodenly and led him back a few doors to my bedroom.