Demons

Note: This is a sequel to "Revelations."

Mallory turned over again, stared at the clock, groaned and punched her pillow. It was nearly three in the morning and she still couldn't sleep. She kept hearing Duke's voice in her head.

My son…

She wished now that he'd never told her, that she hadn't asked what was troubling him. Hearing about his hidden past, first Talon and now Lauran, had brought too many of her own emotions to the surface, too many memories she'd always tried to keep buried.

Too many things she didn't want to think about.

Too many things she didn't want to tell.

At last Mallory swore and kicked the bedcovers back, and got wearily to her feet. There was only one thing to do.

Her first thought, as she tied her bathrobe round her, was that she'd surely be waking him up. But a light shone from under his door, and she knew that he too was sleepless.

Still, she kept her knock quiet. "Duke?"

The door slid open and he stood there, shirtless and yawning, obviously fatigued. "Mal? Somethin' wrong?"

 
"No, I just…want to talk to you."

The tall gray drake passed a hand over his eyes and shook himself, as if he were trying to stay awake. "Come in, sweetheart, come in. Sit down and make yourself comfortable—I’m going down to make a pot of coffee, be back in a minute."

He eased past her and down the hall, the door closing noiselessly behind him, and suddenly she was in his room, alone. Its bleakness made her shiver; there was nothing on the walls, no pictures anywhere, the furniture dustless, the bed made neatly as a pin. Only a black T-shirt slung over the back of a chair announced that the room was inhabited.

She sank down on the bed, her head in her hands. You’d think he lives in a barracks, the way he…oh, God, why did I come here? I can’t do this…

"Mal? You sure you’re all right?" Duke’s voice made her jerk upright; he was standing in the doorway, coffeepot in hand. When she only stared at him mutely, he padded silently in and began to search for cups. A moment later he handed her a steaming mug, not speaking, and she sipped gratefully.

"No," she said at last, as he sat on the bed beside her, "I’m not sure. I’m not sure at all," and she couldn’t keep her voice from trembling.

Duke regarded her shrewdly, his beak buried in his cup; then he said, "It’s not like you to be this way, Mal. What’s on your mind?"

"It’s just—" She felt the sting of tears coming and tried to blink them away. "Listening to you, earlier tonight, listening to you talk about your son…I mean, none of us have really said much about our past, what we did before the Invasion, and now, finding out you’re a father…." She trailed off, not sure if she could go on.

"Yeah." Duke nodded. He’d never seen her this way, so unsure of herself, and it made him more than a little uneasy. Still, probably best to draw her out, since something was obviously bothering her. "We’re a close-mouthed bunch, aren’t we? I’ve been with you guys this long, and I still don’t know how Tanya got into science. How Dive was doing in school. How you got in the military."

"I try not to think about it," she said quickly, "but when I heard you talking about Lauran, I knew I had to tell you….Duke, you know I care about you."

The drake was taken aback. Mallory, die-hard that she was, admitting her feelings? And feelings that might be mutual,
at that….

He reached out, touched her face briefly. "Yeah, Mal. I know."

 "That’s why I’ve got to tell you…you’re not the only one of us with secrets, Duke." There was a fresh rush of tears and this time Mallory didn’t try to stop them. "And you’re not the only one of us who has a child."

"I’m not—" It took a moment to sink in; then Duke started spluttering. "Mallory! You’ve got—"

"A daughter," she answered simply, not looking at him.

"But how…." He trailed off, realizing how stupid that sounded. "I mean, it’s just that…you’re so young…." At last he gave up and said weakly, "Tell me what happened."

"I was younger then," she said; and with a sigh she set her mug aside, running her hands through her hair. "I was never supposed to go into the military. My father had rather old-fashioned notions about women and combat." Her laugh was sour and derisive. "War was a dirty business. My brothers would be the soldiers. I was supposed to go to, to finishing school or something"—she pulled a face—"to learn how to be a proper soldier’s wife."

She looked askance at Duke, but he said nothing; and after drawing a deep breath, she continued. "I was comfortable with that. I didn’t know any better. And then, my last year of high school, there was a new guy in our class, a raptrin. That was a novelty; we didn’t have many raptrin families in Mallardston Heights. Those that were there, everyone just assumed they were trouble. But Jared—" Her voice had softened. "Jared was different. That was his name," she murmured, "Jared Winterhawk."

"Winterhawk!" Duke sat up with a start. "Mallory, you dated a Brotherhood member?"

"You know the name?" She looked surprised.

"I knew his father—"

"Sean," Mallory finished. "Yes. Sean liked me…anyway, Jared was very bright, and terribly handsome. All the girls wanted to go out with him." She squeezed her eyes shut against another onslaught of tears. "But he wanted me."

By now she was hugging herself in pain, her face a mask of agony. Duke hated himself for not being able to do something, say something. He wanted so badly to hold her…but he knew she’d refuse him; and at last he whispered, "What happened, Mal?"

 "We couldn’t date socially. My parents thought I was too young…and besides, he was a raptrin. Daddy could never see past that. It was a long time before I learned that Jared was in the Brotherhood, but it wouldn’t have mattered—my parents hated him already."

She sniffled. "So we did the only thing we could do. We sneaked around. I’d lie to my parents, tell them I had to stay after school for something—I don’t know why they didn’t see the truth sooner.

"I was so in love with Jared. I’d never met anyone like him. We were going to get married, when we got out of school and I was old enough"—her face contorted as she fought to strangle a sob—"but I got pregnant first."

"Oh, Mal. Oh, sweetheart, I’m sorry."

"My parents were furious. They kept talking about how I’d betrayed them, how I’d shamed the family. My father wanted me to have an abortion, but I refused, so he arranged an adoption…."

"What about Jared?" Duke asked softly.

"I don’t know." Her tears were falling thick and fast now. "I never saw him again, Daddy wouldn’t let me…but…." She paused; and for a long moment she only sat silent, her chest heaving.

Then she said, "It was decided to…keep things in the family, so everyone’s precious dignity would be preserved. By then my older brother David had been married a few years, but his wife couldn’t have children, so…." She broke off quickly. "It wasn’t what I wanted. I wanted to keep my baby—but I wasn’t given a choice."

"They took her as soon as she was born. I got to hold her…once…and then…." It was obvious she was fighting to keep control of herself; Duke ached just to look at her. "David and Anna named her Shayla. I made them do that much—it was what Jared had wanted."

Half-heartedly she wiped at her eyes. "As soon as I was well enough, I was sent to military school—so I’d learn to be properly obedient and have self-discipline. I think you know the rest."

Duke nodded; he knew she was far from done. "Did you ever see her again?"

"Not very often—Daddy made sure I didn’t get leave anymore than was necessary. Mostly just holidays—oh, Duke, it was so hard! You can’t imagine—" She wasn’t trying to stifle her sobs now. "She was the most beautiful little duckling, she had red hair and green eyes, and those silvery feathers, like Jared—and I had to talk to her, and play with her, and pretend she wasn’t my daughter!"

 The last came out as a sort of shriek; and at last Duke gathered Mallory in his arms and pulled her close, rocking her, crooning to her, stroking her hair. "It’s all right, Mal, it’s all right, you’ve got me, I’m right here…."

Finally she calmed herself and pushed away from him, though her eyes still streamed liberally; and in a dry hoarse voice she muttered, "During the Invasion the family got separated, and I lost track of David and Anna. Shayla would be six years old now, if she’s—"

"She’s fine, Mal." Duke wouldn’t let her finish; it sounded too much like his own uncertainty about Lauran. "I’m sure
she’s fine."

"Yeah." She nodded and tried to smile at him; the result was weak, but it was still a smile, and Duke’s heart lifted. "Thanks, Duke. You—you have no idea how long I’ve wanted someone to talk to about all this…."

"My honor and my privilege, Mal." He watched her get up, and he knew she was about to leave; and softly he asked, "What about Jared?"

Mallory turned, her green eyes a little vacant. "What about him?"

"You still in love with him?"

"I—" She looked quickly away. "Duke, I haven’t seen him in more than six years. I don’t know…and it’s so late, Duke, I think I should be going."

But Duke got to his feet, and pulled her into another soft embrace, and kissed her lightly.

"I think I want you to stay."

Somewhere else, too, a new day was mere hours from dawning; and in the still secluded darkness of his bedroom, Jared Winterhawk stared at the cracks in the ceiling plaster, his own eyes leaking tears. For the past six years he’d spent most of his nights this way, replaying the past in his mind, praying for sleep, for a peace of mind that wouldn’t come.

Mallory and a few other Resistance members had disappeared at the same time as the Saurians; he knew that much. And like her, in the turmoil of the Invasion, he’d lost track of David and Anna McMallard…but he’d never stopped thinking about them, or about Shayla….

And to himself, again, he whispered, I don’t know where you are, Mallory. I don’t even know if you’re alive or not. But if you are…someday I’ll find you.

 He closed his eyes, desperate for oblivion.

I’m going to find you, Mallory. And I’m going to find our daughter. I promise you that much, he vowed silently; and at last, as dawn broke, he slept.