Page 7 of Dark Stars

Bobby dusted a soft kiss to Alejo's temple and then heaved to his feet and fled the office back into the rest of the school. When he found a door that was definitely not a classroom, he used the barest hint of arcana to unlock it and hastened into what proved to be, as hoped, a storage closet.

He closed and locked the door, then dropped down behind a stack of boxes filled with cleaning supplies and held Alejo close, pulling his face to rest in the hollow of Bobby's throat to further muffle any sounds he might make.

The back of Alejo's neck was hot, nearly burning. The protection his parents had placed was failing, for reasons Bobby couldn't ascertain quite yet. He listened, barely breathing, to the noise in the office down the hall.

Mindless chatter, bitching and moaning. A brief argument. Nothing useful, alas. No, wait. Something about a meeting at midnight in the auditorium. Even 'he' was going to be there. So they definitely used the school as some sort of base of operations, or at least a meeting point.

Several endless minutes later, they finally left again. Fuck. Thank the primordial dark he hadn't used his powers.

He waited several more minutes just to be safe, then hauled to his feet again, holding Alejo close. He was hot all over now, sweaty and flushed, whimpering and crying as Bobby carried him out of the building and to his truck.

Once they were on their way, Bobby punched a speed dial on his phone and pressed it to his ear.

"What's up?"

Harold asked.

"I need you here, and possibly your beloved as well. Something's wrong with Alejandro, but if I investigate my way, I'll show my hand to whatever relative of mine they're worshipping here."

"Where are you staying?"

"The Sunrise Hotel at the edge of town. Rooms 236 and 237."

"Be there shortly."

Harold hung up, and Bobby tossed his phone on the bench seat next to Alejo as he focused on driving. Thankfully, their luck held, and he managed to get them up to his room without trouble. He settled Alejo on his bed, removing his shoes and jacket so he'd be a bit more comfortable. Next he made a cold compress. Alejo whimpered in his sleep, eyes fluttering briefly, and when his hand flailed Bobby caught it and held fast, which seemed to settle him again.

The jewel in his pendant thrummed as the necklaces he'd given Jones and Harold called out to it. Bobby pulled it out, running his thumb over the blue-green jewel in the center, pulled from the debris of a dead star and hand-polished by a creature who'd died more eons ago than could be counted. It was surrounded by tiny pearls made from his own mother, darker ones set in the dark, burnished metal setting that held everything.

Moments later, a soft blue-green glow filled the farthest corner of the room, and then Harold and Jones stood there.

"Demon,"

Jones hissed.

"I can smell it."

"Feel it,"

Harold said, immediately crossing the room and climbing onto the bed. He gently flipped Alejo over with Bobby's help, and rested a hand gently on the back his neck—then jerked it away swearing.

"That's bruja arcana, and something else…vodun. That's not terribly common in the States, and a combination of the two is straight up rare. Haven't seen it for some time. Interesting arcana legacy. How'd he get tangled up with a demon?"

Bobby moved so Jones could have his spot.

"I don't know. He refused to tell me everything, and while we were searching the high school for clues, he collapsed. His parents laid the protections, but clearly the demon is wearing them down. They sent him literally across the country to be safe, but their efforts just aren't enough. I can fix it, easily, but not without showing myself to whichever relative is destroying this town for funsies."

"Let's get a better picture of what we're working with,"

Harold said. He hovered his hand over the marks, murmured soft words of arcana, then slung his hand at a blank stretch of wall—where the marks appeared as though they had been projected.

"Damn show off,"

Jones muttered.

Bobby's mouth twitched briefly. Moving closer to the wall, he touched the mark, then started separating the protections from the demonic mark they were caging.

When he'd finished, they all stood in grim silence.

"Leviathan,"

Harold finally said, voice flat.

"Somebody summoned fucking Leviathan."

"Oh, it's worse than that,"

Jones said, more Carpathian Mountain in his accent than Georgia now. He pointed to the four corners of the mark, each one looking almost like fancy gold filagree, but blood red in color.

"These mean he's been…for lack of a better term, engaged to Leviathan. Poor kid is a runaway bride."

Bobby snarled, the entire room trembling from it, his eyes glowing the yellow-green of fireflies at dusk.

"Over my dead body. Alejo would never do this to himself."

"Where's his phone?"

Harold asked.

Fishing the phone out of Alejo's pocket, he tossed it to Harold. Frowning, Harold held it over Alejo's face to unlock it, then scrolled through it before finally choosing something and wandering off into the adjoining room to talk.

Bobby frowned after him.

"He's not seriously calling Alejo's family?"

"Alejo, huh?"

Jones asked with a smirk.

"Don't start with me, or I'll talk about how much you and Harold flirt."

The smirk vanished.

"Not if my life depended on it."

"Keep telling yourself that."

Jones narrowed his eyes, but before he could respond, Harold returned and tossed the phone on the bed.

"His parents were about two seconds from coming themselves when I told them what was happening. Managed to talk them off that ledge."

"Did they give you the full story?"

"Yeah, and it's not a pretty one,"

Harold said with a sigh.

"Alejandro here has—had—a friend, Wiccan, who summoned a demon and made a horrible fucking deal with it. Except when he went to Alejandro, he said he just needed help banishing it and to not tell anyone because it was all a mistake and he didn't want to get in trouble. Same shit, different day."

Jones and Bobby sighed in unison.

"Basically, except the friend was a backstabbing cretin and instead of banishing the demon, he transferred the bargain, left Alejandro promised to it, and ran off."

Rage trembled through Bobby, making the room shake again, pictures and dishes rattling.

"Where is this so-called friend?"

"Two of his siblings are hunting the bastard down. Focus on Alejandro, Bobby. The only ways to fix this are: transfer the bargain, make a new bargain, or kill the demon. Even you ain't gonna have an easy time of it killing a demon as powerful as Leviathan, and it's likely to bring down even more trouble."

"I'm not transferring the bargain, so that leaves making a new bargain. So be it. Where should we summon it?"

Harold sighed.

"Somewhere far away from people would be best, but somewhere other people aren't likely to go around here will suffice."

"The roof,"

Jones said.

"I'll attend it."

He slipped out of the room, and Bobby went to scoop Alejo up again.

"Poor kid,"

Harold said with a sigh.

"Been backstabbed like that myself a time or six. The hurt never really goes away; you just get used to it being there."

Bobby gave a small laugh.

"Honestly, it's the way my family works. If not for my human father and my mother acting so out of character for him…"

He shrugged one shoulder.

"I'd be the monster everyone assumes I am."

"Nurture goes a long way toward how people turn out, but some things come down to nature."

The door swung open, and Jones gestured sharply for them to follow him. Up the elevator as high as it would go, then up a couple flights of stairs and through doors that should have been locked, and they were on the roof.

"What next?"

"Now I summon a damn demon,"

Harold said.

"Keep out of my way."

Bobby obeyed, wrinkling his nose as he watched Harold work. If he were able to access his full power, he could essentially snap his fingers and make the demon show up. Even demons had nothing on the primordial, though it was true killing one of the most powerful demons would bring down more trouble than any of them needed. Especially as he had a family cult to deal with.

Sitting down on the cold roof, he settled Alejo in his lap as comfortably as possible, holding him close and stroking his hair in an attempt to soothe that seemed to work.

"He trusts you,"

Jones said quietly, crouching down next to him, eyes on Harold.

"You ain't even known each other two whole days, but it's clear he trusts you like family. What gives?"

"He was born on a night of dark stars and has an affinity for insects, especially fireflies."

They called to each other, him and Alejo. Bobby just wasn't sure what the hell to do about it.

Jones's brows vanished into his hair.

"That's…interesting. Chance of one in several million. Acolyte?"

"No, I don't want acolytes, that's how you get cults,"

Bobby replied.

"I'm not my relatives, I have no desire to be worshipped, to tie my existence to how many people worship me and are willing to spill blood to prove it."

His lips curled at the idea. He loved violence and blood and chaos as much as the next primordial, but there were more efficient ways to enjoy those things.

He rested fingers gently against Alejo's cheek, chest twisting at the way Alejo immediately turned into the touch, eyes opening ever so briefly, flashing with light, before he faded back into unconsciousness.

"He's a child."

"Everyone is a child compared to me,"

Bobby said.

"You're a child comparatively, and you're older than most countries."

Jones rolled his eyes.

"I just meant, be careful with him."

Bobby didn't reply, just kept soothing Alejo, mind warring between what he wanted and what was right, what he preferred to do and what he should do.

"Brace yourselves,"

Harold called out, then snapped his fingers, sending sparks along the edge of the circle he'd drawn in a mix of chalk and blood. Sickly rust-colored light burst from the summoning sigil, and a moment later a long, sinuous serpent the same rusty, old-blood color slithered up into view. It was caged by the sigil, but that didn't mean Leviathan wasn't still dangerous.

"My turn,"

Bobby said.

"Get back, all of you."

Leviathan hissed, voice a deep rumble that shouldn't have been possible from the mouth of a serpent. His fangs dripped venom that hissed as it landed on the cement roof.

"You're the get of the Secret One and a piddling human. They whisper of you, playing at human, playing at good. What does her whelp want with me?"

"Him,"

Bobby said, eyes glowing faintly, nodding his head at Alejo, now held protectively by Jones.

Snarling, Leviathan lunged, hissing and spitting venom when the sigil crackled like lightning and forced him back.

"Well made, witch."

Harold grunted.

"Bargain with me, Serpent of the Deep. You have no use for a boy."

Leviathan hissed.

"I have use aplenty in binding a child of the dark stars to me. Did you think we would not notice such a creature, primordial one? You are still a child yourself."

Bobby laughed.

"Not so much a child as that. Bargain with me, Leviathan, Lord of the Deep, Master of Envious Hearts. You know what will happen to you if you refuse."

Another hiss, but then Leviathan twined and twisted and curled in on himself until he gave the impression of a king on his throne.

"Blood, whelp. If I must release my fairly bargained mate—"

"Debatable,"

Bobby cut in.

"Then I want a full measure of your blood."

"Quarter."

"Half, then,"

Leviathan snarled.

"One third measure."

The whole building seemed to tremble, but Leviathan at last gave one last, petulant hiss.

"One third measure of your blood, pure, uncut, unaltered, in exchange for the promise of soul-binding."

"Done,"

Bobby replied, even as Harold and Jones roared in protest.

Flicking his fingers to turn nails into claws, he sliced open his wrist and turned it to spill out, his blood purple-black and faintly glittering, twining itself into a ball, compacting down and down until it was roughly the size of a baseball and harder than rock. He flicked his wrist, closing the wound, then picked up the ball of blood and tossed it through the barrier.

Leviathan hissed, making the whole building shake again, and a moment later the binding slammed into Bobby with enough force to send him stumbling back a step. His chest burned, ached, like a thousand hot needles driven into him at once. Then the burning ache crawled up his body to coalesce on the back of his neck, blue-green with fleck of firefly green deep within its depths, the anchor mark to Alejo's remade binding.

Nearby, Alejo cried out in his sleep, and the mark on the back of his neck writhed and twisted in and around itself until it took on a new shape. The color changed from old blood to a faintly glowing, dark blue green with flecks of firefly green in its depths. Though it was stationary, it seemed to pulse and shift, as though restless and eager to be free. Any mortal who looked at it too long would find themselves suffering a crippling migraine—at best.

Harold stepped forward again, and with a few sharp words, banished Leviathan, leaving only scorch marks where his sigil had been.

"Are you fucking stupid!"

Jones bellowed.

"Giving a demon like that your blood?"

Bobby rolled his eyes.

"It's fine. Do you really think I'd mess around with such dangerous matters without protections in place? You need to better remember I'm older than you, vampire, and I've been dealing with the likes of demons for most of that time. It's not demons that worry me, it's humans forming cults to who even knows which of my relatives. Hopefully it's just Grandpa again."

"Yes, what a relief that the cult would only be to Cthulhu,"

Harold said with a snort.

"If I never hear that stupid phrase the cults love so much again, it would still be too soon,"

Jones muttered.

"Let's get back inside. Being out here is giving me the heebie-jeebies."

Once they were safely back in Bobby's room, Harold leaned against the dresser the TV was on and asked, "So learned anything fun about your little cult?"

"Not really. They seem to operate out of a church and the high school, though I think the latter is mostly just a meeting place for larger events than the church could cover for. The church had a secret tunnel into an underground lair, but some people showed up before we could really explore. River, boat, blood wine, the whole cultish kit."

Jones hissed at the mention of the wine.

"Fucking dandy. No clues at all who they're worshipping?"

"Worshipping,"

Bobby repeated derisively.

"Not yet. The only clues I've found so far only narrow it to a few. I'm sure I'll figure it out tomorrow when I resume looking. How are things back home?"

"Busy,"

Harold said.

"I'm trying to pin down the mischief in the woods.

"If you don't need us further here, we'll get back to it."

Bobby waved them off.

"I appreciate all your help, as always. Thank you. I'll let you know if this turns bigger than I can handle."

Jones snorted. "As if."

Then they were gone, leaving Bobby alone with Alejo, still unconscious, though sleeping far more peacefully now. Bobby ran his fingers along the back of his own neck, where the binding mark now lay, slightly itchy as it settled fully into place.

He'd wanted Leviathan to destroy the damn thing, but at least this way he could destroy it himself and be absolutely certain the problem was gone forever.

Reaching out, Bobby brushed a strand of hair from Alejo's eyes. He sighed softly in his sleep and turned toward the touch, making Bobby's chest twist again. What was it about this little human that fascinated him so much?

He rested a hand on Alejo's chest, his pendant thrumming, connecting to the one Alejo wore, both pulsing in time with the beats of their hearts. Well, Alejo's heart. Bobby's biology was something else entirely, and his 'heart' matched to Alejo's as well.

"Worry not, child of dark stars. You're under the protection of Ctheldush. No demon will ever again look at you without my permission."

Alejo's eyes fluttered open, and he stared unseeing into Bobby's eyes. The haze slowly cleared, and he pushed himself slowly upright, gaze never leaving him. "What…"

He touched the back of his neck, eyes going wide.

"What happened?"

Before Bobby could reply, a loud series of knocks came at the door, and an entirely too chipper voice said, "Housekeeping!"