The Kalista Chronicles: A Born Angel

Chapter Five

My eyes widened, and adrenaline dumped into my system, banishing the black spots.

"I thought I was resting against the couch," I said. Those idiots had cracked my head open. No wonder they left in such a hurry.

Hades, I couldn't feel a cursed thing and my pain was dissipating. If I lost that much blood, I might be out cold when Makumae arrived. That was a problem. I clenched my hands around one of the pillows as an army of black spots ate the edges of my vision and tears burned my eyes. No, I would not pass out.

"I can't feel anything. Uncle Rock, I-I'm seeing spots," I confessed, voice shaking as shock set it and the tips of my fingers tingled. My mind refused to function, and I couldn't think of anything more to say. He set his free hand on my shoulder, and I slowly shifted my eyes to see his face. His amber eyes were wide with fear that mirrored my own and he pushed some stray strands of his shoulder-length ginger red hair behind his ear.

"How about you finish laying down? Roll onto your side," he instructed, and I fought to stay conscious. Where is Anna? She should have been here by now. His thoughts echoed through my mind. His instincts urged him to run out into the hall and see if she were coming, but his fear forced him to stay and help me remain conscious.

I ran his words over in my head before I understood them. Of course, I needed to lay on my side. I don't want to get blood all over the couch. On second thought, it was probably a moot point since I set the back of my head on it earlier.

I laid down on my side, facing the back of the couch so that he could see the wound, and I grabbed onto the cushion. A gasp escaped his lips and I cringed.

"Keep talking to me." He instructed, and I bit my lip to keep from screaming. I took a deep breath, then another before I could think clearly.

"You didn't answer my first question. What do you want me to talk about? I can't think let alone carry on a logical conversation," I debated, trying to keep my eyes open. When Justin found me, I was minutes away from a coma, and apparently that hadn't changed.

"I don't care what you talk about. Just keep talking," he clarified in a serious, concerned, and yet slightly frustrated tone. That was the wrong answer. There were so many things I could say that he wouldn't want to hear, and they were the only things that came to mind. My brain-to-mouth filter disengaged, and my carefully placed barriers dropped.

"Fine. Let's talk." I took another deep breath and let years of frustration boil over. "Everyone seems to think that I get into trouble for the fun of it. They think I'm some no-good *Dakata that will never amount to anything," I stated my innermost thoughts as tears sprang from my eyes. The tension in the air was thick enough to choke me, but I refused to stop.

"I don't see why everyone hates me. It can't just be because I'm **Packana's daughter." I paused only to breathe, and he didn't stop me. "He is a good man. He's never cross with me, and I never saw him mistreat anyone. Sure, he can be brutal, but the punishment fits the crime. The Council does the same thing on a regular basis." I rambled, switching topics. A warm presence entered the room, but I was too emotionally invested in the conversation to keep my mouth shut.

"And another thing, this whole arrangement where we all live in one place and have everything provided for us is shit. It breeds contempt and fighting because everyone wants bigger and better than what their neighbors have even though they can't get it," I continued my rant, hoping that the other person in the room would speak, but neither spoke. My anger burned, keeping me awake as I dug my nails into the cushion.

"What's with the silent treatment? You wanted me to talk. Conversation is a two-way street," I quoted my ***Makrana's usual riot act. I was being ignored, and I would not let that slide, not today. I started to roll over, but a soft female hand touched my ribcage through one of the holes in my shirt and corset.

I stopped and breathed a sigh of relief when Makumae's bright, healing fire pushed through me. A green hue covered everything, and my muscles relaxed in the warmth of her fire, letting it comfort me like a warm blanket.

"Keætæ, don't move," Makumae instructed. I obeyed not sure how much longer I could keep my eyes open. Her very presence relaxed my mind and sleep beckoned. Then without warning, I snapped back to the reason I was here.

"Did you ask her?" I asked. I needed to know I was cleared of guilt. I didn't want to be punished for doing what she asked. I was already beaten half to death by a gang of demons and needed outside healing where I hadn't before. I'd managed to heal the few broken bones I'd received without anyone's help.

My mind recalled what Uncle Larock had said about an already healed broken arm and kicked myself for forgetting about my fall last week. I'd broken both bones in my arm after being accidentally pushed out a second-story window at school. I hadn't reported it, and I wasn't aware that the break was bad. I simply healed it and moved on, like I did every other time I was bullied.

"Yes, he did ask me, and I set him straight," She reassured me since he seemed speechless. "I'm almost done, ****Keætæ. When you're healed, we're going straight home, and I'm going to have a long talk with your sister."

My face paled at the thought, and I was glad that I was facing the wall. I didn't need them to panic again.

"Please, you can't do that. She'll hurt me worse than those demons did," I begged not wanting to be on the wrong end of Alli's anger. Makumae's fire receded, and I sat bolt upright feeling no pain at all. My head spun, and everything went pitch black.

*Demoki: Devil's Spawn

**Demoki: Beloved Father

***Demoki: Grandmother

****Demoki: Princess