The Grace of Demons

I felt the wet washcloth dabbing on my forehead, and that familiar, deep voice murmuring, “Kristina.”

“Luke?” I ask quietly, opening my eyes. The face before mine was pale, that much I could tell through my blurry vision.

“Yeah, it’s me,” he murmurs, smiling down at me as his face comes into focus. “How are you feeling?”

He kisses my forehead.

“Oh, no!” I yell, shoving him away.

“What’s wrong?” Luke asks with his usual concern.

“No, no, no,” I say, jumping to my feet. The room began swimming, and my lost my balance.

“Kristina —”

“Don’t call me Kristina!”

“Look, whoever you are,” he says teasingly, “you need to slow down. You need to calm your heartbeat and steady your breathing.”

“How many know?”

I barely choke the words out through my tight throat as he pulls me down beside him.

“Know what?” he asks confusedly.

“Know that I’m here! What else?” I snap irritably.

“What? Nobody knows. I just assumed that you’d …”

“That I’d what?”

“That you’d … come back … with me.”

“Are you serious?” I ask, choking on my laughter.

“Why are you laughing?”

“Do you hear yourself? Do you know how crazy you sound?”

“No, and I’d appreciate it if you’d enlighten me.”

“I’m not going back. I can’t go back!”

“Why not?”

I was silent. I didn’t exactly want to talk about. I couldn’t even think about it. I knew Luke was reading my mind, trying to figure out what was going on.

“I-I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Do you have any idea how worried I was?”

I look up at him, the anger making his voice rise so that he appeared ready to start yelling at me.

“I thought Keith had killed you! I thought I’d find your body washed up on the Ohio River! I half expected to find you in pieces!”

I look down, avoiding his brown eyes. “I’ve just been here,” I mumble, not really sure how to lighten the tense silence.

“Yeah, I guess you have. Why didn’t you bother to call? E-mail? Write? Anything?” Luke asks, obviously soothed after his little rant. ”Just something to let me know you were alive.”

“Oh, yeah, that makes sense,” I say sarcastically.

“Kristina,” he murmurs, reaching his hand out to cup my cheek.

“I told you not to call me that,” I snap, jerking away.

“Then what do you want me to call you?”

“What everyone else does.”

A few rapid heartbeats of silence, before he finally asks, “Which is?”

“Katherine.”

“Katherine?”

Luke looked close to laughing at me. “Seriously?” he asks, chuckling.

“It’s a name, last time I checked,” I say, glaring at him as he continues laughing. “I don’t see what’s so funny about it.”

“I’m sorry,” Luke manages around his deep laughter, “but it’s just so obvious.”

I groan, slowly standing to my feet to keep from a repeat. “Look, since I’m sure you’re not leaving anytime soon, can I get you something?” I ask bitterly.

“Aw, you know me too well, Kris-Katherine,” he says, surpressing a smile. “I’m good, actually. Thanks for caring,” he says teasingly.

“You know, I’m very tempted to throw you out the window just to see if you’ll feel it.”

“Eh, probably. Either that, or I’ll just bounce right back up like a rubber-band.”

“Let’s find out.”

“I’d rather not,” he says disapprovingly. A moment of silence, and then, “Which way to the bathroom?”

“You go down that hall, and it’s the second door to your right,” I say automatically.

“Thanks.”

• • •

“You can’t tell anyone I’m here,” I say close to an hour later.

“Uh, about that —”

“Who did you tell?”

“Well, I didn’t exactly —”

“Who did you tell?!”

I was basically shouting at him by this point, panic feeding my fear of the answer.

“I won’t tell you until you calm down.”

I take a deep, steadying breath. “Alright. I’m better.”

“Okay. I told Trevor.”

“Call him. Now.” I say through my teeth.

“Alright, but he’s cranky when he’s woken up,” Luke says, pulling his cell-phone out from his back pocket.

“It’s six o’clock,” I say confusedly.

“Exactly,” Luke says, rolling his eyes as if what he said makes sense. “Yo, Trevor!”

There was a snarling sound on the phone.

“Give me it,” I say, holding my hand out for his cell. He hands it over, looking amused as I put it to my ear. “Hey, Trev.”

There was growling in my ear. “Oh, grow up. What are you? Two?”

“I’m a hundred and twelve. Ninety-six years older than you.”

“Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night,” I say sarcastically.

“Well, what do you want?”

“You know the deal still, right?”

“’Course I do! I’m an honorary Kristina Protection Program member!”

“Alright, see yah,” I say, handing Luke back his phone.

“That was … odd,” he says, stuffing his phone back into his back pocket.

“You staying around?” I ask with boredom dripping from my voice like … apple juice.

“Eh, maybe. I like it here. There’s a surprise at every corner,” he says, smirking at me. I roll my eyes.

“Do you need a place to stay or something?”

“Are you offering?”

“You’re my friend, Luke. I don’t want you staying out on the streets, if that’s what you’re implying.”

“Yeah … friend,” Luke says, looking down at the countertop.

“Luke,” he looks up at me, “you can’t honestly be upset by that.”

“I’m not!” he snaps.

“Yeaah, suure,” I say sarcastically, rolling my eyes. “So, do you need somewhere to stay?”

“Yeah,” he grumbles reluctantly.

“Was that really so hard?” I ask teasingly.

“Shut up before I tie you up and drag you back to Kentucky to be permanently grounded until you’re eighteen.”

We laugh together at that.