Devil in Disguise

The plane was so quiet that Shadow had fallen asleep on Hoshi’s shoulder. She had pulled him close to protect him and to feel his warmth as she, too, started to drift into sleep. They had been flying for about two and a half hours when The Man, whose name she still did not know, had pulled her from that warm slumber to ask her questions and to test her English.

“How are you feeling?” he asked. She stared at him and shrugged.

“Tired,” she replied, her accent almost completely distorting the word.

“Yes, planes often do that. We’re almost there, though. You’ve been dozing off for a few hours now. We’re crossing over the sea if you’d like to look.”

“I have seen the sea,” she said softly.

“Not from the sky.” She turned her cold grey eyes to him and frowned before turning them to the window. From high above, she saw the shimmering blue of the ocean, the sun dancing across the waves, and though there wasn’t a single sound, she could almost hear the waves crashing upon each other, churning up the ocean below. She had to admit, it was a beautiful sight. She leaned back so she could regain her comfortable position and looked at the man.

“Tell me your name,” she said, her eyes closing.

“I thought you didn’t need to know my name.” Said the man with a grin.

“I want to know now.” He sighed and nodded.

“My name is Victor Francois.”

“What is the last name?” she asked, her eyebrows furrowing together.

“Francois.”

“That is the strangest thing I have ever heard and I have heard a lot of strange things.”

“Your English is getting better. The accent isn’t noticeable.”

“The more I hear, the more my brain is willing to take in.” She had slipped into her native tongue during her explanation. She had her head rested against the window while her hand held her head up. She was almost completely asleep and her words to slurred together as she spoke. The rocking of the plane had a similar effect on the two orphans as it did on children; the rocking lulled them into sleep. Victor looked at the young woman, her hair peeking out from under the grey hood. He wondered how in the world anyone could have that kind of hair—the kind of hair that was the color red of fire, the red of anger, the red of hate. Her long black lashes rested peacefully across her tanned white skin. He had to admit she was beautiful. Beautiful but deadly smart. Unfortunately for the rest of them, she wasn’t going to be doing this easily. “You should stop making assumptions about me,” she said softly, opening an eye to look at him. The steely grey of her eyes were suddenly liquid. They moved and shimmered under the light in the plane. He swallowed.

“You can read my thoughts?”

“I can hear them, yes, but you are a loud thinker so I didn’t pry.” He frowned.

“How do you do what you do?”

“Training,” she said as she yawned, making the hand she used to hold her head up cover her soft pink lips. “You’ll remember I spent sixteen years living under a demon-hunting family.” Her voice was like silk. Her eyes were closed again but that didn’t stop Victor from thinking about them. They were such an odd color. It was like they were peering into your soul, tearing it apart to find the horrible secrets you hid from yourself.

“What was your family like?” he asked softly. She sighed and sat up, causing her eyes to open and look at him. She yawned again, covering her mouth once more, and blinked away the tears that had formed in her eyes.

“They were strict,” she said with a shrug. “They were meticulous. Precise. They didn’t like error and they loved looking at everything and anything. Demons were a big deal to them. They fought them but only the bad ones. They found the line between the two and often helped many demons stop killing. They did their best to save as many as they could.” She was speaking in English again since she was more awake. Her velvet voice was still slinging the o’s and r’s but all that mattered was that she got the basic gist down.

“Did you learn a lot?”

“More than you will ever know. The training process ends at 17.”

“You didn’t want to finish?”

“It stopped becoming a duty and more of a political battle. People didn’t like that we were helping some demons, others didn’t like that we were killing them. If you don’t know, Outsider, Dwizi is one of the only kingdoms that allow humans and demons to live together. They are one of the only kingdoms that allow a demon to choose their own path. That is how my father wanted it and how it will always be.”

“So you left because you didn’t want to get tangled in that?” Hoshi lowered her eyes.

“I left because I was a child,” she said sternly. “I was 16. I was stupid. I thought that if I left, they’d just teach someone else and I would be free. I wouldn’t need to worry about demons or humans or politics. I thought I could live in a world where no one knew who I was, demons didn’t exist and I would free to be who I wanted. I could have been anyone. And now I’m stuck being a bounty hunter for some foreign band of miscreants.”

“Miscreants?” She lifted her shoulders and for a split second, Victor could have sworn her eyes turned white.

“You reek of demon. The pungent stench of young lingers in your clothing. You are a ruler of fledglings. Miscreants.” Victor sighed, hating the fact that the smell of Thaddeus Kenneth Lynne was anywhere on him. The dirty demon should have been eliminated from the whole Communion of Sinners but Herow liked him.

“You should rest,” he said as he opened his phone and dialed the only number he knew by heart.

“I shall,” she said as her eyes followed him. “Perhaps you can tell me something, though.” He nodded a little, shut off the call, and she smiled. In a low tone, in her own language, she asked; “What sort of demon do you fraternize with? May I kill him?” Victor stared at her and looked away.

“No,” was his reply, though every muscle in his body told him to say yes. Her eyes turned a sudden white once more.

“That’s not what your mind is telling me.”

“Unfortunately,” said Victor. “I am not the one who can determine whether the vermin lives or not.” Hoshi leaned back and nodded, placing her head against the window once more. Victor watched as she slipped into sleep. About a half hour later, he called Herow.

“Victor,” Herow’s voice was sharp as always. Brisk and precise. “Do you have any news?”

“She’s asleep,” he said as he turned his head as if to get a better angle of her face. “She isn’t so bad when she is.” He rose from where he sat and moved a few seats down to be out of her earshot.

“What do you think of her?” He knew that Herow trusted his judgment completely.

“She’s hesitant about doing this. She will, it’s just who she is, and the boy is a large factor in doing this, but she doesn’t want to be called princess. She doesn’t want to acknowledge her title.”

“She was abducted, right? She couldn’t possibly—”

“She wasn’t abducted,” Victor said in a low voice. Herow’s pause spoke volumes.

“Excuse me?”

“She ran away. She didn’t want to do it—be a princess that is. Five years away from her family and friends and her training. Her father was killed last year in a war that happened apparently. She heard news from somewhere. I assume she made many connections as an orphan. I can only imagine the kind of magic she can work. You should have seen her in the car. She did some sort of incantation and—”

“We need to resort our profile then. We can’t bring her here after all we’ve done. She wants to be treated as an orphan then—”

“She wants only to be referred to as an orphan but she doesn’t want us to treat her like one. She wants us to respect her as the royalty she is when she gives orders. Just don’t call her princess.”

“Then we’ll have to use her first name.”

“She goes by Hoshi,” Victor explained as he glanced back at the sleeping two. He could barely see the young boy’s leg that was sticking out from the side. Herow was exasperated and was trying to find a way around this. “The boy is fine for now I suppose. His name is, in their language roughly translated to, Shadow. He’s small, very scrawny and not much meat on him but he’s fast and he’s unfortunately brave. You’d be impressed. He reminds me of you when you were younger.” The pause that followed was a happy one. One that meant Herow was remembering a time when they didn’t need to worry about demons or about adolescent young men.

“We’ll have him room with Parinum. He’s the one studying the languages so he’ll be able to take care of the boy better.”

“They are learning English at an alarming rate. She did some sort of trick, I’m not sure what she did but she managed to learn English. She’s almost speaking perfect English. You should have seen it, Herow, it was….”

“She’s just full of surprises, isn’t she?”

“You have no idea. We have our work cut out for us.”

“I can only imagine,” Herow’s voice was suddenly broken and tired. “Thaddeus and I are finished with the main living buildings and the school is also all set. I’ve got everyone doing their best to fit a princess. Tell me, what do you know of this boy? It’s fascinating that she’d attempt to make the connection with such a youngling when she herself feels unfit to rule or protect someone.” Victor sighed softly, keenly aware that Herow was feeling analytical and there was no stopping him when it came to that.

“He’s young, like I said, ten or eleven maybe. His hair is shaggy and black, he doesn’t have much meat on him at all. There isn’t a single piece of muscle on him. He looks like he’d break in half. She was with him at a church of some sort, they looked like they were going to run away together. She seemed frustrated with him in the beginning and yet when we got them, when we finally stopped them, he referred to her as Hoshi in a formal tone.” He paused, letting Herow do his analysis.

“They must be friends. She would have kept far away from most people, trying to remove herself from commitment and dependence. So he must have latched onto her in some way and she was pushing him away. When you arrived there looking for her, did you announce it to a large group of people?” Herow asked. Victor nodded into the phone. “So she must have figured it would be easier to have him with her than to leave him. What happened then?”

“I asked him what he thought of her, what he thinks a friend should be and for some reason, he was very mature. He knew that there was something more than just learning all there is to know. He protected her from us and after that, she said she’d go just as long as the boy was safe.” Herow was silent. Listening. He needed to hear everything to understand the mind of his Orphan Princess. “Then the boy refused to go and asked her to be his tella.”

“Tella? What is that?”

“She said it was a sort of servant or follower. He became her Lantor, or king or master.”

“Master…” Herow trailed off. Victor could almost hear his footsteps wearing a hole in the ground where he paced. “So she is his servant?”

“By name only,” Victor amended. “She doesn’t act like his servant.”

“Did she do anything to become his tella?”

“She stabbed him.”

“What?” he demanded.

“She asked him if he trusted her with his life, if he trusted her to protect him and all that and the next thing I know, she’s driving that big long sword of hers through his heart, dug her fingers in his wound and started drawing ancient symbols on the roof of the car. Then she made Oren and Soren draw two drops of blood and suddenly, she can speak English and the kid’s back to life.”

“She is magic,” Herow almost whispered.

“She has a mark, a burn I think she said, they both do. One of the servitude and of mastery.”

“Servitude. Is that what they said? What they called it?”

“Yeah, that’s what they called it.”

“Such a strong term. A promise of service. A bondage. It’s strange that she, a princess, would subject herself to that. It’s strange that a woman of her status would lower herself to servant. Is she still asleep?” Herow asked, making Victor stand and walk to the girl. Her arm was slung around Shadow, the protective arm that would hold him safe from arm.

“Yes.”

“Is he there with her?”

“Sleeping next to her.”

“He must mean something to her. We’ll have to keep him safe if we want her to do this for us.”

“Herow,” Victor started, his voice soft and low.

“Victor, it’s time you got some rest.” Herow’s voice was stern as always. Firm as always. Victor sighed. “Victor, I’m sure what you are going to say is important but we need to finish these preparations and you’ve still got another 7 hours to go.”

“I understand,”

“I’ll make sure Frank and Kaito make your favorite.” Victor smiled ever so slightly, the thought of Herow remembering his favorite food bringing a light to his heart. He was becoming his friend.

“Will you be at the port waiting for us?”

“I will have Thaddeus, Wakely and Gabriel there waiting for you.”

“Why all three?”

“Gabriel will be driving you and Oren and Soren home while Wakely will drive our guests home.”

“And the demon?” snarled Victor.

“Thaddeus will be driving with the princess. I want him with her at all times.”

“I still don’t trust that damn spawn.”

“You will never trust him, Victor, it is your nature. All I ask of you is to allow him to do his job. I trust him. Trust in me and it will be fine.” Victor sighed and nodded.

“I’ll talk to you later,” Victor said.

“V,” Herow hesitated. “Get home safe.” Victor smiled into the phone and nodded.

“I will,” he replied. The phone went silent and Victor closed it gently. He sighed, leaned back in his seat and slowly passed into slumber.

As Herow hung up the phone, he sighed. Victor hated Thaddeus with a passion he didn’t understand. Herow and his family were always so understanding of things. When Herow met his first demon, he didn’t understand what that term meant. He didn’t understand that demons could be children as well. He didn’t understand that demons were supposed to be bad. He understood that there was a possibility for demons to be vulnerable as well. He always saw the good in the demons and even when some demons were bad, he did his best to try and help him. He was in the army, just like his father, a soldier bred and trained to follow orders. He worked along demons who had signed up because it was their civic duty to protect their kind. No one understood that they were demons; none of them acknowledge the fact. They figured if you didn’t tell them you were a demon, it didn’t matter if you were or not. Keep out of their way and they’ll keep out of yours. Demons laid down their lives for Herow and for that he would trust any demon that promised to protect him.

That’s why Herow liked Thaddeus so much. When Sauer first found Thaddeus, no one was happy with the decision to let him stay. He was left on their doorstep in a suitcase, a blanket wrapped around him with a note. “Destroy him before he destroys us.” Thaddeus, this small young baby demon with burning red eyes and long teeth, laughed and giggled like a baby would. Herow was six when they found Thaddeus outside of their door steps and when they took him in, he was the first to jump to the opportunity to help. He was a part of the original Communion of Sinners in their city. At first, he, Victor, Heather, Heath, Avon, and Wakely were chosen to be missionaries with the power to help those who were possessed but they suddenly became something much more than that.

The Communion of Sinners became a calling. A calling from a higher power to collect the abominations that were abandoned, to collect the blessings that people were too ignorant to enjoy, and give them a purpose. Find the ones that can help the most, whether they be rough around the edges or if they were too smooth, seven members were to be chosen so that the protectors of a school and city in every state and country. He was the leader, Herow that is, and he led with grace and elegance. He joined the army not too long after they started opening Communions in other countries. Victor followed and soon, Division 1 had to find new recruits.

Thaddeus was a symbol to Herow. He was a symbol of what they were doing this for. He was a symbol to remind everyone that the reason they started this communion was to help those who needed it. To take people who were suffering, who were going through something and help those in similar situations. Over the years, their goal had been shifted towards removing threats from the town and that’s why every now and then, Herow would sit with Thaddeus, who was a fascinating young man in all honesty, and just enjoyed the original purpose, the pure motivation and the single-minded determination that he had towards his job.

“Thaddeus,” Herow knocked on the door of the den where the gentle, yet upbeat, notes of TK’s guitar resonated. Herow looked in on TK, sitting with his back against the large window frame, his arms around a large acoustic guitar, scribbling something down every so often. Long strands of his dark hair, which was turning almost a brilliant red in the evening sunset, were falling in front of his eyes, the hair tickling the bridge of his nose. He didn’t turn his eyes towards Herow, or even acknowledge him at first and yet, Herow knew TK knew he was there. “Seems to be coming along well,” said Herow.

“Yup,” was TK’s gentle reply.

“How are the lyrics coming along?” Herow made his way towards TK while pulling off his jacket as he did. The black shirt he was wearing was crisp and precise as his demeanor was. The blue of his tie shimmered in the harsh light of the den.

“Difficult. Like I said, it’s not as easy as it sounds.” Herow walked towards him, his jacked slung over his forearm. He brushed his hand through his short hair, the soft tresses parting way for his fingers. His hazel-green eyes turned downward as he played with a shiny black button on his coat.

“How unfortunate,” Herow said.

“Meh,” TK turned to look at him, his brown eyes clear and almost like cardboard. “What’s up?” Herow cleared his throat and squared his shoulders back.

“I came to apologize.” Any time he had to put TK in a situation that accentuated his demonic heritage, he felt terrible. He felt like he betrayed a loyal friend anytime he had to use TK’s powers.

“For what?” TK’s brown eyes shifted away from him once more to look down at the guitar in his lap.

“You know what,” Herow sighed. He tried to tell himself to stop worrying about it, tried to tell himself that he didn’t need to apologize.

“No this time I really don’t know. You look like you ran over my dog.”

“You don’t have a dog.”

“No,” TK said haphazardly. “But that doesn’t mean you look any less guilty.” Herow struggled to not stare at him.

“Well I feel bad making you do this,” Herow said softly. TK looked up at him. Their eyes met and TK stood. He placed his hands in the pockets of his jeans and lifted an eyebrow.

“There’s nothing to feel bad about, Row. It is part of your job to tell me what to do, isn’t it? It’s part of my job to follow orders. I don’t mind so much. You get used to it after all.” Herow sighed and lowered his eyes.

“It still makes me feel terrible. I know you are having a hard time with your demonic side as well as your human side.” TK shrugged and offered a lopsided grin.

“With enemies like the rest of the Sinners, who needs friends?”

“We’re all your friends here, Thaddeus.” TK lowered his head and stepped around Herow.

“You don’t see how they look at me,” he said softly. “Like I’m a freak all because of who I am. Like there is something wrong with me because of whom I was born to.” TK cleared his throat. “Like I am going to turn on them any minute, like I am going to kill them in a second.”

“They don’t think that,”

“You don’t think that,” TK said quickly, turning to face Herow. “Andre, you are the one person who doesn’t stare at me like a demon but instead like a person just like you.” TK lowered his head to let out a long, terribly sad sigh. “When did you get so cool, huh?” he asked. Herow sighed as well, placing his jacket on the chair where TK had set his guitar.

“Thaddeus you are a demon, yes, but that is not all you are. I see the human in you because that is the part of you that is good. There are more good parts than bad I assure you. Honestly you are a wonderful person, and yes I am calling you a person because that is what you are. You are a person. Not entirely human but a person none the less.” TK was staring at the floor, unable to meet Herow’s eyes.

“Victor hates me,” TK said as he lifted his eyes to Herow’s. Herow smiled a little and nodded.

“Victor is not as understanding as I am. He’s very old fashioned.”

“For a twenty-six year old I think that’s a little unhealthy.” Herow laughed. “You need to make sure your boyfriend doesn’t kill me. I’m sure he’d love the opportunity.” Herow rolled his eyes as shook his head.

“Victor is not so bad if you give him a chance.”

“Perhaps he should give me one.” TK argued as he crossed is arms across his wide, muscular chest. Herow took in his large, lean form and sighed.

“You’re intimidating.”

“I’m maybe two or three inches taller than him. That’s not intimidating.”

“You are powerful. Powerful in a way he can never be.”

“At least he’s alive. At least he has friends. At least he doesn’t have to worry that he might kill someone because he got too angry or too emotional.” TK’s words came out as a bark. He didn’t mean them to but they did and Herow closed his eyes slowly.

“You won’t kill anyone.”

“I might kill him,” TK muttered. “He’s always glaring at me whenever I talk to you. He’s got some serious jealousy issues, Row, you should go to couple therapy or something.” Herow rolled his eyes.

“Will you stop making that joke? It’s distasteful.” TK laughed a little, and shrugged.

“Tell him to stop staring at you like he wants to cuddle with you. I’ll stop when he stops.” Herow turned around to face the guitar and placed a finger on the notebook in which TK was writing.

“I used to play, you know.”

“Yeah?” TK asked. “Did you suck so bad you had to stop?”

“That’s exactly what happened,” Herow said as he turned around, holding the guitar by the neck. He placed the strap over his wide shoulders, adjusting the strap so he could comfortably hold the guitar. He strummed the strings gently and before long, he had a tune almost mirroring the one TK had made. TK grinned and cocked a hip and folded his arms across his chest.

“Not bad for an old man.”

“Old? I’m only twenty-five.”

“More than five years older than me. That’s old.” Herow stopped playing and held out his arms in protest.

“That is not old.” TK laughed and he felt happy again. “That’s wisdom, young man. Wisdom.” TK laughed again and walked to him, holding his hand out for his guitar.

“Let me see it. I don’t want you killing it with your horrible playing.” Herow scoffed and something inside of him made him realize that this child, this dangerous demon child, was just as much man as he was. He was just as human, even if his DNA said otherwise. Herow knew that Thaddeus was the reason he was here. He was the reason he was going to save people. Even if Thaddeus was stubborn and wild, he was the example he needed to follow. Herow watched as TK played the song he had made up and sat down, enjoying the music as it came. TK told him about his song, hoping to get some feedback; positive or negative. Herow stared at his face while he spoke, smiling at the young man. He was happy he had Thaddeus as a friend. There were a few things wrong with him, sure, but that didn’t mean he deserved to be hated. He didn’t deserve to be put through that. He was abandoned once.

Herow promised him silently that he would never be abandoned again.