Page 13 of Daemonium

“Don’t ever do that again!” Mel yelled from where she was now sitting, her face pale and strained.

“Relax, Mel. We had it under control,” Lana replied, her tone light. “I’m sorry for making you worry, though.”

“You think I was worried? That’s an understatement. How gray is my hair now? And you risked your life for that--him?”

As Brody helped Lana and I get the him in question into a seat, I forced a laugh at her way of accepting the apology, offering one of my own.

I knew she’d done herself more harm by trying to come to us and that wasn’t anything I could ever forgive myself for. “I’m sorry, Mel. I didn’t think it through until it was too late.”

“Clearly,” Brody grumbled.

“Hands off,” Ky's gritty voice carried from behind us before I could further explain. Brody immediately dropped his supportive hand from my arm and moved away as if I’d suddenly caught fire, taking a seat beside Mel.

“Good luck,” Lana quipped, moving back toward the front of the tram.

I turned toward Ky as he came forward. There was blood splattered on his front from far more than just that clown he and Ciaran had taken down. He’d ditched his gloves as well. I swallowed hard, looking up at his masked face as he firmly, yet gently crowded me into a seat using his body, not touching me with his hands.

Once I was seated, he planted himself beside me and leaned close.

“What the fuck was that, Sunshine?”

“W-what was what?” I questioned, transfixed on his masked face. It was mesmerizing, a haunting white and black now sporting red streaks and splatter, giving him an otherworldly, fearsome appearance. Oddly, I found him just as attractive with it on.

“Don’t dumb yourself down.”

“I couldn’t leave him.”

“You couldn’t?” His laugh was low and unsettling. My reaction to it was entirely inappropriate. “If something happened to you, no one would have made it onto this tram. Not a single soul.”

He couldn’t mean what that implied. Except I knew he did.

“Do you understand?” he asked, his voice dropping to a dangerous cadence when I didn’t respond.

I swallowed hard, the intensity of his stare piercing through the mask. “Yes, I understand.”

“Good,” he murmured, his voice softening but still carrying an edge.

There was a strange comfort in his protectiveness, a dark allure that I wanted to bask in. Our connection was broken by his shifting so that he was facing forward on the seat. I sat back, acutely aware we had an audience. I finally glanced around, noticing a few stares aimed at our group as a whole from others who had made it on that I didn’t know.

I noted where everyone was sitting and the tram’s interior. The compartment that housed the driver was barred off, prohibiting anyone from reaching it or the control panels. Where we were was unsurprisingly luxurious yet simple. Soft, plush seats in muted tones of grey and burgundy.

The ambient lighting, subtle and warm, created a sense of calm that was almost eerie given our recent ordeal. Sleek metal poles and polished surfaces reflected the low light, adding a touch of modern elegance. Mel was sitting with Dion and Brody, Maverick on the other side of them. Ciaran was now beside Lana, one arm draped over her shoulders, and Charon was beside a beautiful brunette who had come on board with the other few stragglers. She had long, ash-brown hair and light silver-blue eyes.

So that’s who he’d gone after. She looked more familiar than the old man had. Her name danced on the edge of my memory, but I couldn't quite place it yet. The fact all of us, and some of these people that we kept crossing paths with had a link to one another had to be the Boards doing. There was a noticeable discord between her and Charon. He’d effectively blocked her into the seat like his brother had done to me.

Whatever she was saying, a thick accent was present, and happy was the exact opposite of the vibe I was getting. I quickly diverted my gaze, not wanting to stare.

In addition to her, there were a few others I didn't recognize. A woman with short, silver hair and a hardened expression, reminiscent of someone who had survived countless battles. The man Lana and I helped, was now sporting a nasty knot and bruise on his head. His eyes were closed, and I worried he might’ve gotten a concussion. Two other women looked to be about my age—one with rich, dark skin and the other with delicate features and straight black hair, hinting at an Asian descent, perhaps Korean.

Lastly, an athletic-looking man with long brown hair stood near the back, his eyes scanning the tram warily. No, not the tram, his eyes were shifting around our group with clear distrust.

I couldn’t fault him for it. We were sitting with the same kinds of masked madmen that were all over the Devil’s Playground, the difference being these ones didn’t care about him or his existence enough to snuff it out.

There was an audible click, and then the tram was moving forward. My hand found Ky’s arm and tightened reflexively. We swiftly moved away from the danger here, and without a doubt were heading right into more. The show was back on now and there was no telling what else we’d have to endure. The overhead lights dimmed, and the radio clicked on, an upbeat tune beginning to play.

“Cambodia”, Dion commented almost wistfully. "My pops’ loves this song."

I started to smile at him, when an almost inaudible grunt and Ky shifting, stopped me. I gave him a reprimanding look, then smiled at my friend.

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