The Daemon's Disguise (Sequel to He Was A Dog + previously Out There)

The Daemon's Disguise (previously Out There) - Chapter 1

Isaac:

The rain in this world was miserable. Even more so when one was standing on the corner of some Godforsaken street, keeping watch. It dribbled down the back of my neck, pelted against the side of my face, cold and wet and everything I hated about human weather. And yet I didn’t move. I kept to the shadows, cooing softly at the pulsating shapes. They were getting tense, agitated with the movements of the Realm. It was better to keep shadows on your side. They could easily snap a neck when you weren’t looking the right way.

A streetlamp flickered above my head, and I went rigid, watching as the bulb blinked and struggled to stay alive before it swiftly was extinguished, as though someone had merely blown out a candle. I stood there, engulfed in darkness. The shadows hissed and whispered to each other before slowly fading into nothing. 

I knew she would come. There had been signs – the frost in July, the dead leaves in the park, animals lining the cobbled streets, robbed of life and faces twisted in anguish. My back against the wall, I twitched, waiting for her. Waiting for her to make a much planned appearance.

A swish of a cloak, a hand around my throat, rings on her fingers illuminated by her icy breath. Inga snarled at me, lips drawing back to flash her sharp teeth. 

“I’ve been waiting for you,” I growled hoarsely. “You’ve not exactly been subtle.” She smirked, pulling down her furred hood. The rain lashed against her long auburn hair, and the drops rolled down her almost translucent skin. The human men I’d see falling out of pubs each night would love her. Her hand dropped from around my throat suddenly, leaving me gasping for breath as she stowed it back inside her cloak.

“Oh, Isaac, there’s no need to be subtle,” Inga mused, running her fingers along the brick wall behind my head. “Not when he can’t remember me or her.” She seemed to be forgetting my rank. Last time we had been each other’s presence, she had dismissed me as a mere daemon, dirty and lowly. Oh how things had changed.

I clicked my tongue absently, glancing around the abandoned street. London was a wonderful place to hide from a race of supernaturals, truly. It was crowded enough to get lost in, yet turn down a street and you were completely on your own in the dark. I enjoyed it. 

“He will remember, Inga, and when he does-”

“It’ll be too late,” she snapped. I watched her, trying not to react as she ran her finger along my jaw. The most important thing was to not give anything away. I’d spent three years in this world, trying to make sure that Inga couldn’t destroy anything before he could remember. 

“Oh, Isaac, you’re so admirable,” Inga murmured, inching closer and closer to me. “Dedicated to a brother who hasn’t bothered about you for years. Such loyalty.” She considered me for a moment. “Or stupidity.”

I remained silent. Nothing short of ripping her throat out would satisfy me. We all knew what she had done to Phillip. The Realm was ripped and frayed and it was all her doing. If killing her here and now wouldn’t have caused a shift in worlds, I’d have done it. I’d have done it and dumped her body in the Thames.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed it, Isaac,” she breathed. “I can feel the magic beneath my fingertips, whatever I touch; you can feel the dragons rumbling beneath our feet, the shadows are singing.

“We will rise again.”

The sneer almost cut my face in half; it was probably the most twisted my face had been in some time.

“You Mage, with you power struggles and your greed,” I hissed. “Go back to the Realm before you tip the place out of balance and destroy both worlds.”

Inga took a step backwards, looking at me with disgust. Her bare feet slapped painfully against the solid concrete of the road, dirty and bleeding. Evidently her human body didn’t agree with her attire.

“It’s already started, Isaac,” she murmured. “It’s happening now.”

And with that she was gone, disappearing from this world to ours.

I wasn’t sure how long I waited before breaking into the run, but it was long enough to make sure that Inga was truly gone; no lingering essence of a disgruntled Mage hung in the air anymore, and the stench of wet bitch had died almost as soon as she’d vanished. My feet slid over the sodden pathways as I cut through a park, dodging late-night dog walkers and the like. 

Gravel crunched beneath my feet as I made my way up the drive, and the rustle of leaves swaying in the wind nearly had me firing off more than once, but I made it without serious incident.  The grand mansion, with its high security gates and burglar alarms was imposing and elaborate, not something that you’d expect to be the headquarters for us all. It was misleading, and almost impossibly human, but the mansion had become our home.

The door swung open and I lurched inside, slipping slightly over the black and white tiled hallway before wrenching the cellar door open. Shouts and growls and impossible heat hit me as I crept down the winding, wooden steps of the cellar.

A blast of fire almost caught me as I left the last step, the repulsive smell of burning eyebrows hitting my nostrils. Great. I’d only just grown them back.

“Isaac, did you bring food?” Ronan bellowed, standing in the middle of the floor. He was in the centre of the ring, smoke billowing from his nose, in a pair of long khaki-coloured shorts and nothing else. He always said shirts were just a nuisance. He just burned them regardless. Ronan’s red hair stood on end, as firey as his dragons’ breath and just as stubborn. 

“Inga’s here,” I panted, trying to regain the breath I had lost in the desperate run. “She’s back. She’s come back.”

Ronan glowered to himself, stepping out of the handmade ring and coming towards me, arms folded across his chest. 

“Already?”

I nodded darkly.

“We need to find her,” I murmured, staring at Ronan. “We need to find Blue before Inga does.”

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Woo, first chapter done! 

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