The Interloper Bk. 01

"Okay, that sounds super terrifying. But where does this seventh thing come in?"

"The partners of demons temper them."

"Like quenching steel."

"Steel?"

"It's a metal we have on Earth that we make a bunch of things with. When you're working with steel, you can use water or oil to freeze its volatility and keep it under control." Thank you Renaissance faire Blacksmith.

"It's exactly the same," he nodded, meeting my eyes directly.

"So you need seven partners to help keep you in check?" Talk about orgies and babies!

"That's not how it works. The reason there are seven is because of timing. One is too old, the other too young, another mated, the other unborn and one is dead. That leaves two: one lost and one found."

"When you mean too young and too old . . . ."

"It's in proximity to life: they are either ending theirs or you are ending yours."

"Right." It sort of made sense in a weird, all-the-stars-align kind of way. "And you just sort of know that Solar is your partner from werewolf mating instincts?"

He made a gesture that I took to mean no. "Werewolves have nothing to do with it. Your sevens have the same marking as you." He tilted his neck, pointing to a large, oblong patch of pink skin on his neck. It looked like a birthmark. "This is mine. Solar has the same one in the same place."

Self-consciously, I rubbed the sole of my left foot, feeling the birthmark on my heel with the current-smoothed rocks. It wasn't like everyone on Earth had them, but they were common enough. Was my mark the same as Teeth's; a connection to an alien demon that I just passed off as insignificant?

It was on the tip of my tongue to ask, but this conversation wasn't about me and my curiosity. Teeth didn't want to leave this—albeit freaking amazing—world they'd all created because of Solar, his seventh.

"I'm trying to understand where this is bad," I said after a long minute of thinking about reasons and coming up with nada. "You found the man to keep you in check and that's amazing. What's the problem?"

Teeth waited a beat. "You just said it."

Did I? I couldn't remember—

It hit me. Because if I knew what Teeth was getting at then yeah, humans and demons weren't different at all. "Solar's a man."

"He is."

"And homosexuality isn't accepted on Nagios, is it?"

The dragon-like demon pushed himself up, vibrating with fury as he paced back and forth. "It's a death sentence. If my people knew I'd found my seventh, they would kill the both of us in hopes that we would be reborn the right way."

"Did—" I swallowed, hating that I had to ask this. "Did you purposefully not create an exit?"

"No," Teeth responded gruffly, never breaking his stride. "I didn't know Solar before I came here. He's Can's friend, from Yenos. I've never left Nagios."

"So how did—"

"Edge is my cousin. He left to study alchemy, but we kept in touch." Finally, Teeth stopped. "It was just a party. We were trying to let off steam, enjoy ourselves. None of this was supposed to happen."

Not the being stuck and not the Solar thing.

There was so much more on the line now. As if there hadn't been in the first place, my internal voice snorted.

"But you said that of the seven there was one lost right? What if Solar is that one and you were never meant to meet?"

"It's null. We met. I claimed him. The others will find that their marks lighten and disappear or they will simply not have them to begin with."

"Claimed like in sex?"

"Not everything is about sex," Teeth sighed. "We bonded in the way of my people. Blood can't be torn, burned, or changed. it's forever."

"Well that's that than."

Turning to look at the water, I tried to think up some words of encouragement. Something to help sooth the uncertainty in him. Coming from a culture where you were killed if anyone discovered you were different, finding out at a party that the person who could help you was the one person that could also get you killed, being young and vulnerable and scared. It was no wonder Teeth acted the way he did. It wasn't out of maliciousness but self-preservation, because the wrong person mean death.

"It's late," I finally said into the calm of the spa. "You should get some sleep. We can figure out another plan tomorrow."

Teeth didn't say anything else as he walked across the room and left.

Sinking further into the pool. I let the water soak into my clothes until I was submerged. The second I touched the bottom, I drew my knees up and laid my chin on top of them. Water surrounded me, cool with a gentle ebb and flow. No one was yelling or demanding or commanding anything of me.

I was by myself.

Alone.

Pushing up from the bottom to the surface for a much needed breath, I gulped in air as I gently treaded water. This is gonna suck. I didn't need the hitch in my breathing or the sudden blurriness in my eyes to know that this breakdown was gonna be one chock-full of tears—bloodshot, puffy-eyed, runny nose, can't-catch-your-breath tears.

I held it together long enough to swim toward the edge of the pool and drag myself out before I let go. Anxiety, fear, uncertainty, and shame cracked wide and poured out on the slate floor of the spa for what felt like hours.

I cried for Brandon and Mr. and Mrs. Lerou. Cried for a master's education I wasn't sure I could ever go back to. Cried for the friendships that now only existed on the phone and held no weight because I couldn't talk about my life here without lying. Cried for my family and the moments I'd already missed—Easter dinner, my dad's birthday, my brother's first girlfriend— and all the ones I would come to miss. Cried for Chief Rain's tribe, my own stupidity and self-denial over my attraction to the centaurs, because if I'd been totally honest with myself I wanted to have sex with a horseman. No, that was a lie. I'd really wanted to have sex with Caster. Weeks spent in close proximity to the incubus had made me a horny little devil but I'd ignored it, placed that attraction in a box labeled "No Demon Sex", because if Caster had been any other race than the ones ranted about by every religion as evil and cast as the ultimate bad guy in all forms of media maybe I would have hopped on him like I did Rain. But most of all, I cried purely and selfishly for me. This wasn't one of those times that I reminded myself about my good health or my privilege or any of that remember-all-the-great things you have bullshit.

This was fucked. It sucked and it was gonna suck for a while.

So I revealed in it. Throwing one hell of a pity party as cold seeped into my clothes, making me shiver. Making me angry. And anger felt good, justified. Screaming, pouding my fists bloody against the stone, cursing like a sailor at the wind felt amazingly cathartic. There was nothing like screaming until you went hoarse and pounding your fists into hamburger until you couldn't feel the pain.

But anger didn't last. Neither did despair. Emotions were as fluid as the water around me, sometimes coming in violent all-consuming waves and other times as gentle taps on my skin. Eventually, it all receded, leaving me in a cold exhausted heap on the floor. Sore and tired, I couldn't do anything else but close my eyes and dream.

***

"You're early," Mel Gibson said, gesturing to the dark hallway behind him with a few careless swings of the silver gun held loosely in his hand.

I stepped through the doorway and blinked as the Lebanese restaurant near my graduate school appeared.

Someone bumped into me, hitting my shoulder hard. "Watch where you're going."

Irritation wrapped around me as I turned, ready to tell the asshole off. But the second I spun James McEvoy stepped into my line of sight, engulfed by a giant black fur coat and rocking a shit-eating grin . "They say pregnant women glow, but you look sweaty."

"I'm not pregnant!"I growled, quickly glancing down at my stomach.

"Ha! Ha! Made you look," he taunted right before he pushed me. Hard.

Blackness swamped me as I fell... and fell... and fell some more. "Well, this is sure boring."

"I can do something about that," McEvoy reappeared at my right. I turned my head and saw him pose, bearskin rug style.

Crossing my arms over my chest, I raised a brow. "Entertain me with your sparkling conversation?"

"That too," he purred, trailing his fingers over my hip.

I pushed his hand away. "Not interested."

"Really?"

Darkness slid over his features, distorting them completely as a voice deeper and rougher than McEvoy's added, "I can be exactly who you want."

The ground rushed up to meet me in the next second, soft and sweet. Marshmallow. I flipped over, eating through it. I could see a swirling green-blue filling in front of me. Just another bite.

***

"Tilly!" Cotton whispered harshly, shaking me awake with trembling fingers.

"Ugh." Everything hurt and throbbed. My throat felt raw and I could barely see through the slits of my eyes. "What happened?"

"You've been asleep for over a day. We tried to wake you a few times."

My mouth was gritty and I swallowed, trying to get the taste of morning-ass out. "Any thing happen?"

"Two more people arrived."

Pushing myself into a sitting position, I noticed Can, Teeth, Cotton, and Solar all surrounding me. "Great."

"Are you okay?" Solar asked quietly, a look I was gonna take as worry crossing his face.

"Yeah, just feel like death. It's par for the course."

"What?"

"Nothing." I waved the words away and struggled to my feet, only to sway and be grabbed by Teeth.

"It's not nothing."

"A human thing."

"So all humans look this terrible when they wake up after a day's rest?"

"All the best ones," I snapped with faux cheer, tugging my arm away.

"Can one of you scrounge up some food and a change of clothes for me? I'm gonna grab a shower and see about this morning breath."

All the teens ferried looks around until Spell said in a monotone voice, "None of us understand what you said."

Right. Colloquialisms. "I need to eat food. Can someone either get or make something for me? I'm going to take a shower and brush my teeth. I'll need clean clothes."

"I can get you food," Can said brightly from her floating water bubble. "And Cotton can make you some new clothes."

"Awesome."

It was another ten minutes of poking and prodding me before the teens finally left. Their slight clinginess made me worried, and the absence of Spell didn't help matters.

Great start to a great day!

Bitterness bit at me as I dragged my butt across the room to the rain showers, choosing the steaming one. "Lemme . . . just . . . get . . . this . . . off!" I huffed, struggling out of my cold, wet clothes and throwing them somewhere in the room.

Hot water rushed over my hair, shoulders, and back as I closed my eyes and relaxed into the heat. "Huh, James McEvoy and Mel Gibson." Talk about weird. It wasn't that I found either actor smokin' hot or butt ugly. They were just kinda white guys. Nothing really special about either of them. Well, Mel Gibson was a horrendous—

"Wait." My eyes popped open, a little bit wider and less painful than before. "Wait a hot freaking minute."

What was that movie that Mel Gibson was in where he played that misogynist? My mind was drawing a blank as the water continued to flow but my foot started a frustrated tapping. That movie with that actress. He's trying to sleep with her.

I was drawing a big ass blank, but this seemed important, like my subconscious was trying to tell me something. Afterall, Stephen King got most of his novel ideas from his dreams—yikes!—maybe I got case cracking revelations from my dreams about actors.

Sure, Scooby Doo.

"This is insane," I muttered, relaxing back into the spray and releasing whatever half-cocked, stress-induced dream logic was pushing at me. There were a lot more important things to think about than gun toting, fur wearing actors. Like how the Hell I was gonna get the kids home without walking them into a death sentence. Or how I was gonna get my hands on some Plan B so that there was no way in Heaven, Hell, or any other supernatural universe I got pregnant. And let's not forget, ultimately finding a way to get back—

"TELEPATHY!" I screamed, jumping as the answer smacked me in the face. My breath stuttered out of me as if I'd run a mile. This was it. Had to be.

"Okay, okay, okay," I muttered to myself, trying to calm down and put that one word into a useable plan. There had to be somebody on that dance floor with mind-reading powers, even a connection to another person that wasn't on this stupid planet would work. Just like long-distance calling.

Except that didn't solve the major issue. If, and that was a big freaking if, there was a telepath that could E.T. phone home that still meant that Teeth and Solar might be found out and killed. Maybe not just them even. There could be others. Parties were to have fun, but also cut loose. How many of the kids here were escaping bad situations? Abusive parents? Dangerous relationships?

I'd never know until that memory gas was removed, until I sat down with each of them. But I wasn't a therapist. Hell, most days I still didn't understand what a TERM was or did.

"Tilly," Can called out from the center of the room. "I have clothes and food. I wasn't sure how humans felt about nudity so I'll leave them here."

A smile broke across my face as I remembered the most important thing. I wasn't alone here. There was an entire group of crazy-smart young adults. We could do this. Hell! There wasn't any other choice.

CHAPTER TWELVE

"Telepathy," Spell spoke the word without a hint of emotion.

I nodded, glancing around the table. "Telepathy."

Solar rapidly blinked, voice coming slow and wonderingly, "Telepathy?"

Teeth slammed a hand on the table, startling everyone as he snarled, "TELEPATHY!"

"Someone here has to have some kind of telepathic ability, right?" I asked, worry gnawing at the edges of the words.

"Yes. I think I know of at least two who could possibly contact someone on the outside," Cotton whispered. "I can't believe we didn't think of it before."

"I only did after a weird dream." I shook my head as several mouths opened. "It's not important. Let's set aside the getting out portion."

"What do you mean?" Can gasped, face contorting in disbelief. "We have to do this now! I can go—"

"No," I barked, eyes snapping to her.

"Why?"

"Because we're not ready." I looked at Teeth, wondering if he knew where I was going with this.

If the flip of green on his scales meant anything, yeah, he did. "What are you thinking?"

"How well do you all know the people at this party?" I glanced around as Can finally floated to a seat, the chair immediately absorbed in her water bubble and only partly sat on the floor. "Earth isn't the best place in the universe. Lots of bad stuff happens there. Some of it to kids. Does bad stuff happen here?"

Silence reigned in the small room, uncomfortable and heavy. There wasn't an elephant with us but an entire zoo.

"My dad used to beat me," Edge said quietly, tail wrapped tightly around his leg. "It's why I applied for the apprentice alchemist program."

As if the dam broke, each one shared stories about friends, classmates, and personal experiences. My heart broke for these kids. This party wasn't decided on a whim, it was a small gift to the people who were hurting, trodden down, or living in fear.

It'd only been a few years, but I'd almost completely forgotten what it was like to be a teenager. The hormones, the pressure to perform, the need to be accepted, the desire to be an adult. I loved my parents, but they both worked full time jobs; my dad spent three months out of the year traveling while my mother's schedule as a vascular surgeon meant she was at the hospital more than home. I'd had a huge role in raising my brother and myself—it was why nannying Brandon came so easily to me. It'd been a tough job, made all the worse because I didn't feel like I could tell my parents how hard it was when they did so much for me. It'd led to self-harm; cutting was something I could control.

Letting out a heavy sigh, I pushed the memories away. Those scars were healed with the right medication and counseling, but never forgotten.

"I need you to remove the gas so I can talk to people," I said, breaking into the conversation.

"And what will that really accomplish?" Spell asked, expression as curious as I'd ever seen it. "I'm confused as to where you—a human from another planet—fits into the framework of this world. Why do you think you will have any effect on what happens here?"

That was a question I'd been asking myself. Why me? Why this? What did it all mean and have to do with me? Because a mistake just seemed too trite, but some grand plan where I was the heroine seemed braggadocious. I was left in the uncomfortable position with an "everything happens for a reason" reassurance that was about as much help as a bandaid over a broken leg.

Thing was, there wasn't much else to do.

"I fit in as much as anyone else in the universe," I said with a shrug. "And as to the effect, I don't know that I will even have a change. All I know is that if I do nothing and send you back then some of you will get hurt or worse. I don't want a kid's suffering on my conscience, so I'm gonna try my damndest to be a person who can look herself in the mirror and feel good about what she sees."

"You sounded so cool," Edge breathed, skin lightening to an almost translucent shade of gray. "Really awesome."

"About a fourth of the Masters' experience is all about giving speeches. I've gotten fairly good at public speaking."

"But it's not like you can talk to all of them on your own," Teeth growled, rubbing at his eyes. "That would take forever."

"Well, thank freaking God time moves differently here." If it took me a year on this teen-made planet I wanted to make sure that when we contacted help no one would be hurt.

***

While I would have spent a year here, I was pretty ecstatic it only took a few more days. Once Spell and Cotton removed the fog, Teeth, Can, and Solar tamed the crowd as much as they could while Edge used his alchemy to create a pair of aura-reading glasses so I could spot the more troubled teens that might want to get something off their chests.

Of the 643 teens in attendance, 205 had problems, and a quarter of that number had serious problems. Teeth wasn't the only demon to find his seventh or the only one from a society that didn't take kindly to a divergence from the norm: in sexuality or belief.

Edge, Solar, and I were working together to try and find a way to get everyone home while also protecting the people who couldn't go home. "I still think seeking asylum in Ray is the best option," Solar said, as strong as ever in his convictions.

I'd come to realize in the short time I spent with the kids that there was almost no difference between them and human teens. Emotions drove most of them and forward thinking that focused on consequences and domino-affect events just wasn't there yet.

"That's assuming the Magistrate will accept it. Doubtful given the tenuous peace that seems to hold everything together. Further exacerbating that while keeping children on the basis of safety from their own people might not be in his best interest."

"What else is there to do?" Spell asked.

I pushed away from the table and continued to pace.

"What if we act like the bad guys," Edge piped up.

I cast him a sidelong glance. "How would that help us?"