FOREVER KNIGHTS: #13 Salvaging Souls

Worthington Hall, Meadowbrook, Grier

CHAVIAS

Worthington’s head was humming by the time he pulled into his driveway. His forearm felt like it was on fire. Rubbing it several times he couldn’t assuage the sensation.

“Have you seen my brother?” Ronald Turner was waiting out front.

“No!”

“Are you okay?”

“No.” He massaged his arm.

“What happened there?”

“Kid grabbed me.”

“And it burned?”

“It’s looking that way.” Worthington hissed through his teeth. He only made it to his front steps before dropping to his knees crawling to the door as he gasped for air. Lurching to his side he blinked at his parents in the parlor. Their usual lackadaisical expressions in place as his mother lifted a crystal glass of liquor.

He was shivering and gasping.

“Something is wrong with him!” Ronald stumbled in after him. Pointing. Shouting to his parents.

His father tripped over the tea table and his mother stumbled around the chaise longue.

“Did you celebrate too hard, Son?” He heard his dad, Duke Worthington, asking.

Worthington’s vision blurred.

“Let’s get him upstairs.” Ronald said. The only voice of reason.

“Help!” Worthington went unconscious.

He awoke screaming, but could only flail helplessly in his sweat-coated bed. Glimpsing his mother next to him, he was relieved until spotting the wine glass dangling in her palm as she blinked blearily.

Shuddering, he remembered what Radix had done to Mac Turner. He fought to stay awake but was too weak. The moment his eyes closed he was overcome with nightmares of shrieking as bones crunched. Shrinking until he’d become one of the little Nonis blinking their big stupid eyes. Completely dependent on the demon for life and commands. He leaned over the bed heaving. The acrid stench wafting up to sear his nostrils. Making him gag harder.

Finally waking again, Worthington rolled to see his mother. Grateful expression dying as he found her sprawled in the chair, head lolled back against the wall. Mouth gaping as she snored.

Passed out in a drunken stupor. Chavias recognized from the far corner.

“Hmm.” The thoughtful murmur startled Worthington. The demon stood at the foot of his bed. Cold black eyes intent. “You seem in dire health.”

To put it mildly. The boy looks like sop I’d toss from the pits of Stone Peak.

Too weak to move, Worthington grasped the half emptied wine bottle and chugged several swallows to cleanse his mouth and throat. Slumping back to the mattress, he clutched his head in answer.

Slight scraping in the far corner drew his attention. Chavias smirked. Obviously enjoying the scene.

“Are you pleased?” He leaned up drowsily to shout.

Couldn’t be more so.

“Immensely!” Chavias purred.

Radix shot him a silencing look.

“Yes, listen to your Master.” Worthington gestured to Radix.

“As you should…” Radix rasped. Striding around the opposite side of the bed, Radix turned his head at an odd angle to eye Worthington’s arm on the coverlet. “What little thing got you?”

Looking down Worthington saw his skin had blistered in what appeared to be the shape of small fingers. He instantly recalled the little boy grabbing Worthington’s arm as he glared fiercely up at him. It’d burned the whole way home. “The girl’s brother.”

One of the Bishop children did that?

“What is this?” Radix demanded turning to Chavias.

As if I should know what’s happened. The bodyguard shrugged, face unreadable.

Radix’s lip curled in disbelief. “We’ll see about that.”

Chavias didn’t blink but Worthington caught the threat in the demon’s voice, shifting uncomfortably. Yes, he’ll torture me later for my defiance.

“Why would your bodyguard know?”

“Bodyguard? That is what you think he is?” Radix scoffed. “He is my slave.” He laughed before adding. “A Forever Knight traitor.”

Not a traitor. Now Chavias winced, agony written over his face. Not ever what I intended to be…

Worthington eyed him skeptically.