Chapter 14 The Quiet Between Storms
Cressida's POV
We're three blocks from Club Neon when Isolde collapses.
"I can't," she gasps, bent over on the sidewalk. "I can't breathe."
I kneel beside her. "Are you hurt?"
"Asthma." She fumbles in her backpack, pulling out an inhaler. "Had it since I was a kid. Stress makes it worse."
She takes two puffs, wheezing. I watch helplessly while precious seconds tick away.
Two hundred people in that club. The mimic hunting them. And we're stuck three blocks away because Isolde can't breathe.
"I'm sorry," she manages. "Give me a minute."
"Take your time." I check my phone. Two hours and fifty-three minutes until the second trial officially begins.
But Mara said the trial already started. Does that mean if we fail to save the club, I fail automatically?
Isolde's breathing slowly steadies. "Okay. I'm good."
She tries to stand, but her legs shake. She's exhausted. We both are.
"We need a plan," I say. "Running in blind will get us killed."
"The mimic is supernatural. We're human." Isolde pulls up a map on her phone. "We can't fight it. We need to evacuate people before it attacks."
"How? We can't exactly shout 'demon attack, everyone leave.'"
"Fire alarm." She zooms in on the building layout. "Pull it, people evacuate, mimic loses its targets."
It's simple. Smart. But something feels wrong.
"That's too easy," I say. "Mara wouldn't make the second trial that simple."
Isolde's face falls. "You're right. There has to be a catch."
My phone buzzes. A text from the same unknown number: "Smart girls. But you're missing something important. The mimic won't let you evacuate. It's locked all the exits. The only way out is through the demon. Good luck. Mara"
"She's watching us," Isolde whispers.
"Always." I stand up, offering Isolde my hand. "Come on. We need to see the club for ourselves."
We approach carefully. Club Neon throbs with bass-heavy music. The line to get in wraps around the block. Young people laugh and dance, completely unaware of the demon inside.
"We could warn them," Isolde suggests. "Tell people in line not to go in."
"And say what? Trust me, I'm a wanted vigilante?" I shake my head. "They'll think we're crazy."
"Then what?"
Before I can answer, screaming erupts from inside the club.
The music cuts off.
People pour out the front entrance, trampling each other in panic.
"The exits aren't locked," I say. "Mara lied."
"Or the mimic unlocked them." Isolde grabs my arm. "Either way, people are getting out. The trial might already be over."
But then I see him.
The mimic, still wearing Landry's face, standing in the club doorway. It's not chasing anyone. Just standing there, watching the chaos with those black eyes.
Watching me.
It smiles. Then it turns and walks back into the club.
"Something's wrong," I say.
Isolde pulls up a news alert on her phone. "Fire at Club Neon. Exits blocked. Estimated fifty people still trapped inside."
Fifty people. Not two hundred.
The mimic let most people escape. But it kept some trapped. Why?
My phone buzzes.
A video message. I press play.
The screen shows the inside of the club. Smoke fills the air. Fifty people huddle in a corner, coughing and crying. The fire exits are blocked by fallen debris.
And standing in front of them, smiling, is the mimic.
It speaks in Landry's voice: "Hello, sister. Here's your choice: save these fifty people using your demon powers, or watch them burn. You have ten minutes before the smoke kills them. But if you use your powers, you fail the trial and become a demon tonight. What's more important, Cressida? Your humanity or their lives?"
The video cuts out.
Isolde stares at me, her face pale. "Just like my mother's trial."
"What did she choose?"
"She saved me. Used her powers. Failed the trial." Isolde's voice breaks. "And became a demon."
I look at the club. Smoke pours from broken windows. Sirens wail in the distance, but the fire trucks won't arrive in time.
Ten minutes. Fifty lives.
"We go in," I say. "Without powers. Find another way to save them."
"How?"
"I don't know yet." I run toward the club entrance.
Isolde follows. "This is insane!"
"I know!"
We push through the fleeing crowd and enter the club. Smoke immediately burns my eyes and throat. The heat is intense.
"Stay low!" I drop to my hands and knees, crawling forward.
Isolde follows, coughing. "Where are they?"
"Back room, I think!" I navigate by memory from the video.
The darkness inside me screams to be released. One burst of shadow power could clear the smoke, break down the blocked exits, save everyone easily.
But I'd fail the trial. Become a demon. Lose myself.
We find the back room. The door is jammed shut by a fallen beam.
Through the smoke, I see the fifty people trapped inside through a broken window. They're pounding on the glass, screaming.
"Help us!"
"We're going to die!"
Isolde and I grab the beam, trying to lift it. It doesn't budge.
"It's too heavy," Isolde gasps.
The smoke thickens. My lungs burn. We have maybe five minutes before we pass out.
The mimic appears through the smoke, still smiling with Landry's face.
"Use your powers," it says. "Save them. Be the hero."
"Shut up!" I keep pulling at the beam.
"Or don't save them. Stay human. Let them burn." The mimic tilts its head. "Either way, you lose. Just like everyone else who makes deals with demons."
Isolde suddenly grabs my hand. "Cressida, stop."
"What?"
"Look at me." Her eyes are red from smoke but clear with purpose. "My mother chose to save me. She used her powers, failed the trial, became a demon. And you know what? I've spent fourteen years hating her for it."
"Isolde "
"But Mara told me the truth today. My mom's last words were 'tell Isolde I love her.' She didn't become a demon because she was weak. She did it because she loved me more than her own soul." Tears stream down Isolde's face. "She made the human choice. The loving choice."
"I don't understand what you're saying."
"I'm saying whatever you choose right now, I'll understand. If you save them with your powers, I won't hate you. I'll know you did it because you're good, not because you're weak."
The words pierce something deep inside me.
I look at the fifty people trapped behind the door. At the mimic smiling like this is all a game. At Isolde, who's giving me permission to fail.
Then I look at my hands. At the black veins creeping past my wrists.
I think about Landry. About the life I wanted for him when he woke up. About being someone he could be proud of.
If I become a demon, I lose all of that.
But if I stay human and let fifty people die, what am I?
"There has to be another way," I whisper.
"There isn't," the mimic says. "The beam is too heavy. The smoke will kill you in minutes. You're out of time and options."
It's right. We're just two human girls against impossible odds.
Then Isolde squeezes my hand.
And something strange happens.
The darkness inside me... quiets.
Not gone. Not weaker. Just calm.
Like Isolde's touch soothes it somehow.
"Did you feel that?" I ask.
"Feel what?"
"The darkness. When you touched me, it " I grab both her hands. "Do it again."
Isolde holds my hands tight.
The black veins on my wrists glow faintly, then fade. Just a little. Just enough to notice.
"What's happening?" Isolde breathes.
"I don't know. But whatever it is, it's helping." I feel stronger. Clearer. More human.
The mimic's smile vanishes. "No. That's not possible. You're not supposed to "
The beam suddenly shifts.
Not from us pulling it. From the other side.
Thaddeus stands there, golden armor glowing through the smoke. He lifts the beam like it weighs nothing and throws it aside.
"Go!" he shouts to the trapped people. "Fire exit behind me!"
They run, coughing and crying but alive.
I stare at Thaddeus. "Why are you helping us?"
"Because this trial is rigged." He glares at the mimic. "Mara designed it to make you fail. But I'm sick of watching innocents die for celestial politics."
The mimic hisses. "The hunters aren't supposed to interfere!"
"And mimics aren't supposed to frame innocent people for murder." Thaddeus draws his sword. "Let's call it even."
He attacks the mimic in a flash of golden light.
"Come on!" Isolde pulls me toward the exit.
We stumble outside just as the fire trucks arrive. The fifty people we saved scatter into the crowd, safe.
I collapse on the sidewalk, coughing.
"You passed," Isolde says, laughing and crying at the same time. "You saved them without powers!"
"Thaddeus saved them."
"You found another way. That counts."
I'm about to respond when my chest burns with sudden, intense pain.
I look down.
Another black vein has disappeared.
My phone buzzes. A text from Mara: "Second trial complete. Unconventional methods, but effective. You have six hours until the final trial. Rest well, Cressida. You'll need it."
Six hours. Better than four.
I look at Isolde. "When you held my hands, the darkness calmed. Why?"
"I don't know." She examines her own hands like they're foreign objects. "Maybe because my mom had demon powers? Maybe some of it passed to me?"
"Or maybe..." I hesitate. "Maybe you're my anchor. The thing that keeps me human."
Before Isolde can respond, Thaddeus appears beside us. His armor is smoking, covered in black demon blood.
"The mimic is dead," he says. "But we have a bigger problem."
"What?"
He shows me his phone. Security footage from Mercy General Hospital.
Landry's room.
The real Landry is sitting up in bed, eyes open.
After seven years in a coma, my brother is awake.
But his eyes aren't brown like they should be.
They're pure black.
And carved into his hospital gown, in letters that look burned into the fabric, are three words:
"STAGE TWO COMPLETE."