All was set.
The parents tried to distance themselves from their little girl and save their love for their other children. But one smile from the sweet little angel, and they fell. Unlike other babies, she was not fussy or contrary or even temperamental. She watched the world around her, thoughtful, always thoughtful.
As her tenth birthday approached, they realized they would rather die than lose her.
Themis, being Themis, granted their request. The couple had prevented a demon executioner from learning how to fulfill her purpose, and so they would die at the hand of a demon. Justice would once again be served.
And so the goddess commanded the keeper of Hate to slaughter the entire family, Haidee included, for she would start again, find someone new, someone she would raise from birth herself.
Hate was more than happy to comply.
After murdering Haidee’s parents and little sister, the demon-possessed immortal turned his sights on the god-touched child. But as he peered into her eyes, he remembered how Themis had once planned to use her and realized she might be able to save him. For if she could destroy the demon inside him, he would finally be free.
So Hate grabbed Haidee, intending to hide her until he figured out how exactly her ability worked. Only the moment he touched her, a strange cold infused him, tearing at his insides. He reacted instinctively, stabbing and releasing her, then running from her, the pain too much to bear.
As the days passed, he realized she had ripped a small piece of his demon from him—like a human losing a limb. And as time passed and he came to discover what happened to keepers who were severed from their demons… Well, instead of yearning to break ties with the creature, he wanted to reclaim that missing part of it. But each time he found Haidee, she died before he could touch her, as if Themis had forever cursed him to fail in his quest because he had failed to destroy the girl as promised.
Secrets marveled at the deluge of information, a child at Christmas.
And still so many questions remained… How had Haidee taken a piece of the demon High Lord? How had Hate’s host not died? How had Haidee never known Hate was inside her? How had she not known what the demon was thinking, feeling or wanting? Amun always knew. So did his friends. How had she not known Hate was the cause of her reanimation and memory loss? Or was Themis the one responsible?
How had the demon stayed with her even after she died, when Baden’s demon had been freed after his death? When Aeron’s had been freed after his death?
More answers flowed… That small piece of Hate had hidden inside her, strong enough to influence but too weak to do anything more. That’s why she hadn’t known the being was there or what he felt. His wants and needs had simply seemed like her own.
And Hate had not brought her back to life all those times; Themis had. Inadvertently. Since Haidee had sprung from a womb blessed by the goddess, she’d never been fully human. So, like the souls who reanimated in hell, she never really died. Only difference was, her corporal form could walk the earth, as well as hell.
So much information…too much…not enough.
As she’d done for Hate, Haidee had taken the demon minions from Amun. Not just pieces, though, but every part of them. Secrets, a High Lord, was stronger, however, tethered to Amun by godly bonds, while the others hadn’t been.
Still, she could have taken Secrets, but she hadn’t. She’d been careful, even though she hadn’t realized what was happening to her or to Amun.
Were the new demons forever a part of her now?
No. No! He couldn’t allow that. He knew how evil those beings were, how disgusting their thoughts, and he would not leave Haidee to suffer like that. But what could he do? He waited for Secrets to tell him, but this time, no response was forthcoming. The demon was still lost inside those memories.
Haidee was curled in the fetal position, whimpering, her tears burning his chest as they streaked down his skin. He reasoned out the rest on his own. She’d been a little girl when Hate first attacked her, and she’d probably clung to the dark piece of the demon she’d drawn inside her, needing the emotion to survive the terrible deaths she’d witnessed her parents and sister suffering.
Hate was as much a part of her as Secrets was to him, but these other demons were new and hadn’t had time to bond with her yet. He hoped. They wouldn’t want to bond with her, either, and would fight the connection. After all, Themis had ensured Haidee was a demon executioner. That meant Haidee had the power to defeat the darkness inside her, even if she didn’t realize it, and the bastards had to sense that.
No wonder they’d been so afraid of her, of her pull and her cold.
Guilt filled Amun, surpassing every other emotion because, with this new knowledge, he realized he alone was responsible for her current torment. She had saved him, and he had harmed her.
Haidee, sweetheart, he said, squeezing her tight. I need you to listen to me.
Hurt, she moaned. I hurt so bad.
I know, darling, but fight past the pain and listen to me. Can you do that?
A pause, another whimper. Then a hesitant, yes. Yes. Amun, you’re reading my mind. How are you reading my mind?
I think I instinctively built a mental wall to block you out when those demons were inside me. The moment you took them, that wall fell. Now I need you to fight the demons, sweetheart. Push them out of your body. Out of your skin.
How? Every time I mentally approach them, they dart away.
Corner them.
I can’t!
You can. And you will. Do it. Now. He put enough steel in his voice to anger her. Do it, or I’ll hand you over to Strider. You think you’re suffering now, well, wait until he gets you. He will torture the living hell out of you, and I’ll cheer him on. Then I’ll make love to another woman in front of you.
Every muscle in her slight, trembling body stiffened. B-bastard.
I know. Get well, and you can punish me.
T-trying. Her body uncurled, stretching taut as a bow. They’re still darting…like little flies…no, close, I’m close…they can’t go anywhere else…there they are…
Her back arched as an agonized groan ripped past her lips.
Haidee? Talk to me. Tell me what’s going on.
Pushing, I’m pushing them. They’re screaming, want out. Out, out, out.
That’s the way, sweetheart. You’re doing so good. I’m so proud of you. Keep pushing them. He flattened his palms, his cold, cold palms, on her and stroked. He stroked her everywhere, every inch of her body, willing the cold out of him and back into her. Push them out, and then cut any tether that binds them to you. Understand?
Slowly her skin began to darken. Not tanning, not becoming a lovely gold, but becoming a dark, sickly gray. She was doing it. She was expunging them. He could feel the malevolence pulsing off her.
Relief only increased his urgency. His hands moved faster, trying to touch every inch of her at once. That’s the way.
The ice. Yes, the ice. Need it. Need it. Need— She screamed. Screamed until her voice broke, until his eardrums nearly burst just to escape the noise. Darkness was now pouring off her, drifting into the air like dust motes before darting out of the cave entirely.
Her nails raked at him, drawing blood. She thrashed, she fought, but he never released her from his hold. Finally, thank the gods, finally, she sagged against him, silent, not even trembling, as if every bit of strength had been sapped from her and she could barely even manage to breathe.