The Captivator

Chapter 8

Summoning the will to speak, I can visibly see Vyn suppress the look of surprise and rumbling admiration in her eyes above her blood red cheek. Jeremiah, however, does not respond with the tranquility as his female counterpart. Yanking one of the African throwing knives from his belt, the Shango I believe it’s called, Vyn’s brother draws back his left hand in a blur. The knife is peculiar, with one silver handle and three curved blades lethally extending from the base. Regardless of the shape or size, any object can be deadly in the right hands. Especially when these strong, slender fingers belong to a vengeful demon.

In the back of my mind my survival instinct kicks in, the kind I get when things get serious. By process of elimination (I am too slow to knock the Shango from his hand, not to mention he is too far away) I gather my refurbished strength and channel it into a single barking command. “Stop.”

I see him freeze, the blade still kissing his fingertips. Jeremiah’s blue eyes ignite ferociously as he finds he is unable to break my order. He is bound to me. If I was in absolute control of my demons, this is how his every action would be performed; under my hand. His marble teeth clench together in a way that makes them look like fangs.

I observe around me that the Authority all hold expressions of muddled horror or even disgust and confusion. At first I am unable to determine their reactions. Then I see their gazes cast from Jeremiah to Vyn and back in a repeating cycle. They seem to be surprised that Jeremiah, to put this in the most informal way, gives a shit what happens to his sister. I shrug it off; I have always known my demons were unusual.

Brayden steps in. “Enough!” he roars. “Both of you.”

The intimidating man then speaks directly to me. In my peripheral vision I see Jeremiah return his Shango to his belts of similar daggers slung across his hips. “Adylin, we need your help.”

Finally, we stop beating around the bush, I think in relief.

“And why would that be sir?” My voice rings clear and true, my question as honest as the midafternoon sun.

Again Brayden rises and begins pacing before his pew. “As far as we are aware of, you are the only Captivator alive who has two Captive demons. We want to…explore…the connections between you and them.” Everything is stated reasonably, laid in front of me like an Ikea instruction booklet. But something seemed odd about the way he said ‘explore.’

“We would take the utmost precautions with you and your demons, if we have your full cooperation.” On this note Brayden eyes my demonic duo with suspicion, then carries on. “We want to know everything. Our scientists want to know how you met with your demons, how you captured them, the interactions you have with them in everyday life and in the heat of battle.” With a deep breath, Brayden continues, now making direct eye contact with me. “We also need to know every intimacy you and your demons have with one another, everything that makes you connected. Because that is the burden of a Captivator. You are bound to your demons as your demons are bound unto you.”