The Demon Inheritance

TWENTY-SIX

For someone who grew up in a slightly country place, I maneuvered through the crowded city well enough to pat myself on the back. Hands in the pockets of Oliver's jacket, which I hadn't taken off since waking up in the mausoleum, I made my way through the diverse collection of people. Back in Alabama, everyone looked utterly natural. The differences consisted of your hair length in weight. Here in Los Angeles, the people had a way of expressing themselves through appearance. People ranged from tight business suits and glasses to muscled punks who had their hair dyed bright green and were covered in tattoos. I kept the hood over my head, although I had faith that I wouldn't bring attention to myself even if I had it off. I decided that, although this place was deafening, I liked it much better than the country. No one was looking at me. No one was expecting me to act a certain way, because the people were so different and people like me weren't the center of attention.

I shouldered through the crowd so I could cross the street in between a parked taxi car and a mini van. The walk sign flashed green a little ways over, and I stepped in with the ocean of people to cross the street. Even the open land seemed to be enough to make someone claustrophobic. If I were a Dark demon, where would I make my hideout? I had been out for nearly six hours under the sun, wandering the streets in hope that I would come across a lead. Every now and then, I would think that finding the place may take longer than actually getting there. This is the place where police can't find huge drug-dealing gangs. Chances are, you'll never find them. You're a fighter, not a detective. I shoved away these thoughts. I'm going to find them. Even if it takes forever.

If I had been anyone else, I would get the help of the police. However, I was probably being looked for. After all, a group of people disappear from a small town like Millton in Alabama, everyone knows about it. Chances are, people get involved. People were looking for me.

I adjusted the hood again, turning the corner on the street. Some older teen hit me with his shoulder, glanced back, and kept trudging on. I winced as pain flew through my shoulder. My muscles were far overused, and my spine, although mostly healed by whoever had saved me during the fight with Satan, was still in danger of more damage. My knee was completely healed, but from the lag, I probably still had a few pieces of the bullet inside of it. That was something that could be dealt with much later, after I stormed the Dark hideout and took back my friends.

It would be much easier with Oliver here, I thought to myself, I could actually get something done with his help.

"Mommy, look!" came a loud cry of a little girl not far from me. "It's the girl who saved me! That's the girl I told you about! She fought the bad man on the parade float!"

I gave a short breath and fought to get away from them; it was urgent to find the hideout, and talking with anyone would surely slow me down. However, I was too slow, and someone grabbed my shoulder. I turned to face a teary-eyed woman who had a chestnut bob for hair, wrinkled skin on her face, and a red lipstick smile. "Uh, is something wrong, Miss?" I had to force out my words in order for the woman to hear me.

"My daughter says you saved her when the float crashed yesterday!" the woman answered, taking back her hand. Behind her, I was the child with pigtails holding the hand of an older man who I guessed was her father. "We owe you so much! People died yesterday, and she could have been one of them, but thanks to you..."

"It really was nothing," I said, impatient. "I need to go-"

"Oh, yes it was! You risked your own life for my daughter. I would love for you to have dinner with us, if that's okay. We can exchange numbers now, if you want." She brought up a small purse and began fishing out a sticky note.

"Ma'am, it's okay, please. I have to leave. I'm trying to find someone." It took much of my willpower not to snap at the woman; it felt molten under the jacket with the sudden heat of anger that crawled across my skin. Doesn't she understand that I have something to do?