Page 2 of A Daemon’s Alliance (Daemons & Lumens)

Michaela

F or nearly a decade, I had been my father’s good little girl. Well, sort of.

Father was all mixed up with evil men, and I couldn’t sit still and do nothing while he played right into their hands.

We’d end up as sacrifices, just like my mother, Aurora, and eldest sister, Lailah.

Or crazy, like my second-oldest sister, Seraphina.

And I refused to let either of those be my fate.

So I stole the book from his safe. I mean, I always put it back, so it was really just borrowing.

He thought I didn’t know the codes. He thought I didn’t know anything, actually.

It might have taken me a few years, but now I knew everything there was to know about this shit-tsunami of a situation that was my life.

I might not have been some badass assassin like Seraphina allegedly was, but I was not helpless.

I could do this. I would do this. I had stolen this book a hundred times now.

Each time, memorizing a little more of the ritual I had decided on.

The book was actually my mother’s. Or it was her lover’s.

I didn’t really know. My father didn’t like to talk about the details.

What I knew now was that this magic shit was real. Like really real.

At first, my father refused to speak about our family.

He told me my mother and sisters had to go away.

And he held onto that story so tightly, until I was finally mature enough and brave enough to ask him if my nightmares were real.

I forced him to say the words out loud. My mother was dead.

My sister, my strong and beautiful sister, Lailah, was dead.

Murdered. I was thirteen years old and much too young for heavy shit like that, but he told me the truth, as much of the truth as he could.

And then, over the last six years, I persuaded him to tell me more.

I needed to know, was obsessed with it, really.

And ho-ly shit, was my mind blown. Daemons and lumens and cults, oh my!

They were real. My mother and Lailah were lumens.

I should’ve known. Or maybe I did but refused to give my suspicions a voice until it was too late.

A memory of our family vacationing on the East Coast flashed through my mind.

Seraphina was pouting, sitting on the beach with her nose in a book.

She acted like she wasn’t impressed with the ocean.

But I knew she was secretly afraid of it.

Too many unknowns. I, however, relished the adrenaline as I dove into the waves.

Lailah was with me, splashing and laughing as we swam.

Mother called to us from the sandy shore, and we paused, treading water a few yards out.

I turned to Lailah and gasped, the playful words I was about to say stuck in my throat. She looked unimaginably sad. I was only ten at the time, but I knew my sister and could sense the heaviness of the moment.

“Why are you so sad, Lailah?” I asked, squeezing her arm.

Lailah stared out at the endless sea and sighed. “Just missing someone. A friend. The ocean reminds me of her. It was her favorite.”

“Where is she?” My legs floated up, and I stared at the sky. “She should come here.”

My sister sighed. “I wish she could.”

Suddenly, our mother’s terrified voice called out across the water. We turned to see a massive rogue wave rushing toward us. There was no time to swim out of its path; we were too far from shore.

I screamed, choking on salt water.

Lailah grabbed my hand. “Don’t let go. Hold your breath. Now!”

I closed my eyes and sucked in a deep breath.

Lailah shouted words I didn’t understand, and suddenly we were rushing to the shore, as if we were riding the wave itself.

In seconds, we landed in shallow water, our mother and father rushing toward us.

I coughed up saltwater as Father lifted me into his arms.

“What happened?” My voice was hoarse and scratchy.

“Got caught in a big wave, sweet daughter. Are you alright?” Father brushed away the golden hairs sticking to my cheeks.

I nodded. “I think so.” I turned to my sister, but she was farther off, speaking quietly with our mother.

Lailah’s skin was glowing in the sunlight, she looked angelic, almost inhuman.

Mother placed her palm on Lailah’s cheek, and the glow faded.

I saw Seraphina standing away from us, taking it all in with a shrewdness beyond her adolescent age.

Her brow was scrunched as her eyes darted between Lailah and the ocean.

I tried to ask Lailah about it later that night, but all she would say was, “We were lucky.”

It was the last trip we took as a family, and I never asked about it again.

Lumens were similar to what religious people called angels, in the sense of their ethereal beauty and god-like powers.

But they were not all nice. Just like all daemons weren’t evil.

The daemons, apparently, often had wings and horns and tails, which I was super curious about.

My father was just an old-fashioned, Earth-bred human.

Which meant I was a hybrid, half lumen, half human.

And unfortunately, I had no power or magic.

At least none that I could really access.

One of the many bits of information I pulled out of Joseph Bronwen over the years was that our mother told him she had our powers locked away for safekeeping, but Lailah’s were harder to suppress because she grew up using them so often.

The memory of how she saved us from that wave made more sense now that I knew what we were.

Mother told our father my abilities would emerge when it was time.

She should’ve known I wouldn’t wait for whatever that “right time” was.

And now I was more than ready to force the issue.

The stupid cult leaders of The Obscuritas were on our asses.

My father was the worst at hiding. He was a good man with a good heart, which was why I thought my mother was drawn to him, but he wasn’t cut out for this world of magic and mayhem.

He refused to talk about Seraphina, so her lineage was more of a mystery.

I think he hated himself for leaving her, but my mother told him it was part of “The Plan.”

I had a love-hate relationship with “The Plan.” Mainly because my mother wasn’t here to answer all my questions.

We just had to trust her. And I did trust her.

Even though my heart was bruised and weary, I trusted her.

But my father…his heart was half gone, and I didn’t think he’d ever be whole again.

So it was up to me to keep us safe and make sure those pricks leading that stupid cult didn’t find us.

The book I “borrowed” from the safe was called Rituum Lucis et Obscurum.

It contained information about daemons and lumens.

How to awaken powers, how to summon creatures, and many things I didn’t understand.

The text was in a language very similar to Latin.

Learning Latin was a pain in the ass, but I was trying.

The internet was basically my one and only friend.

I shivered as my fingers brushed against the cover of the ancient tome once more.

It was made of flesh, but definitely not human.

The skin glistened like it was infused with crystals and sent sparks of electricity into my veins.

I felt connected to it, like the book recognized me somehow.

The feeling reminded me of my mother. I had very few memories of her.

But one of my first memories, from when I was very young, was of her touching my cheek and the same feeling rushing through my body.

I could feel myself glowing under that touch.

She smiled a sad smile before saying a mix of words I couldn’t understand.

And then it was gone. I never felt that rush again, until the first time I held this book.

Sometimes I would take the book from the safe just to hold it and think of her.

But tonight, I was finally going to use the damn thing.

The spell—at least that’s what I was calling it—would “summon a daemon to my aid.” There was another to summon a lumen, but for whatever reason, I felt called to the daemon magic.

And besides, daemons were always portrayed in stories as scary, powerful beings.

And that’s exactly what I needed. Someone bigger and scarier than the men my father cowered to.

It was only a matter of time until they came for us.

And when they did, I would have a daemon at my side.