demon - camren

six

Camila stirred from her dreamless sleep, waking without opening her eyes. She snuggled down deeper into the pillow, slowly drifting off again, and then she remembered where she was and what had happened and she sat up so fast she almost fell out of bed. Back in the bedroom in Imelda's apartment. The curtains were open now. The day was bright and warm. She examined her reflection in the mirror on the wall. She looked normal. Her hair was a mess, but that was the full extent of the damage. It had been real. She knew it had been real. She'd had horns. She'd grown them as her skin had turned red and her nails had turned black – just like she had before she'd pulverised Brandon's jaw with a single punch. She'd grown them just like Imelda had grown them.

Just like her parents had grown them. But no. No, that couldn't be right. There had to be an explanation. A reasonable, logical, real-world explanation. She stood. She was fully dressed, in a crop-top, jeans that hugged her body, outlining her figure, and a pair of black converse. That was good. She left the bedroom. The girl with the guns sat on the couch, her long legs crossed, reading a tattered paperback. Lauren Jauregui, she remembered. She looked up at her, then went back to reading. "Where's Imelda?" Camila asked. "Out, " she said. She waited for her to furnish her with more information, but apparently she wasn't much of a talker.

"Out where?" she pressed. "Out with the others." A wave of alarm rushed through Camila's veins. "My parents? What's she doing with them?" "Pretending to look for you." Keeping a finger on the page she'd been reading, she folded the book closed and raised her eyes. "You can wait for her here. She shouldn't be too much longer." Camila hesitated, then took a few steps further into the room. "Don't suppose you'd let me go, would you?" "You've got nowhere to go to, " Lauren replied. "The cops can't help you. Chief Gilmore can only afford his luxury condo with the money they pay him. Your parents, and their friends, are very powerful people. You must know this." Camila didn't reply.

She didn't mention the ease with which they'd had her principal fired. She went to the couch across from where Lauren was sitting, and sat on the edge, knees together and hands in her lap. "Do you know what's going on?" "I'm not the one to talk to about this." "So you do know. You know they're monsters, right? You know Imelda is a monster? And it doesn't bother you?" "Does it bother you that you're just like her?" Camila shook her head. "I'm not. I'm ... I don't know what happened or what drug she gave me, but I'm not like her. I'm not like them. They're monsters. I'm normal. I mean, I think I'd know if I were a monster, right?" she looked at her, didn't say anything.

Lauren was the reserved, quiet type. It took her a while to open up to people, especially people she'd only met a few hours ago. Although, despite this, there was something different about Camila. She didn't know what it was but, she was overcome with a sense of wanting to get to know her better. She just didn't know how to be social, how to start a proper conversation. She studied Camila's features. Her slim body, milky brown eyes, her soft silky hair that sat perfectly below her shoulders. God, she was beautiful.

"Why do you have all those guns?" Camila asked suddenly, snapping Lauren out of her trance, oblivious to Lauren's staring. "Your parents might start suspecting that Imelda isn't being honest with them. She asked me to make sure no harm comes to you." "You're here to protect me?" Camila stood up suddenly. "So I could walk out of here and you couldn't stop me?" Lauren opened the paperback again, without fuss, and resumed reading. "Try it and see." Whatever rebellious fire had flared inside her sputtered and died at her tone, and Camila sat back down.

"Do you know where my phone is?" "Destroyed." Her eyes widened. "I'm sorry?" She kept reading. "It's the easiest way to track you." "But that was my phone." "Best not to make calls. Or send emails. Those are the kind of things that would lead your parents straight to you." "And how do you expect me to ... to ... to do anything? I need my phone, for God's sake. I need ..." She faltered.