This is a series of short stories, detailing the adventures of Chelsea Childling. You can start with her origin story or pick any story from the index.

***

Jackson paced in the motel room, green eyes wide and wild. Chelsea let him, petting Bentley as she waited. He was talking through some deep shit. He could take all the time he wanted.

Eventually he threw himself into the hard cushion of the armchair that rounded out their furniture for the night. Bentley hopped off the bed and settled at Jack’s feet.

Jackson scratched at the huge mutt’s silky black ears. “Amber… did she ever tell you about her family?”

Chelsea took a deep breath and thought back. “She mentioned she was very young when they died. Too young to remember some of the food her parents made.”

He winced as he studied Bentley’s ears. “She was seven. Just seven years old when the demon lord slaughtered her family.”

Dread settled in Chelsea’s chest. “Let me guess. He sent his hell hounds?”

Jack nodded, eyes no longer on her dog, but staring into space. “Amber’s dad… made a deal. He didn’t hold up his end. And Amber’s mom and sisters paid for it with him.”

“How did Amber survive?”

Jack shrugged and scratched at Bentley’s ears again. “She changes the story.”

“Yeah, she does that.” Bitterness she couldn’t help seeped into her voice.

Jackson sighed before throwing himself at her and the bed. He took them both to the mattress, arms locked around her. “However she survived, she hates herself for it. And she the only thing she has… had… was vengeance.”

“Had?” Chelsea tried to sit up, but Jack’s arms trembled and she settled back down. 

His forehead, clammy and warm, rested against her neck. “She wanted to kill the demon lord. That need kept her… I won’t say safe, but it kept her from breaking.”

“What was trying to break her?”

“Chelsea, she went through foster care and all the shit that can come with that. She went through the child shrinks trying to tell her that monsters weren’t real. And English wasn’t her first language. She went through it all barely understanding people for the first year.”

Anger surged through her, forcing her to sit up. “She was a child, a baby. Where was her advocate and translator?”

Jackson chuckled and pulled her back. “She was an orphaned immigrant with no immediate family. And a poor one at that. I’m sure that her caseworkers would have loved a translator or an advocate. Kids like Amber… they’re lucky if they make it out of the system.”

Darkness overcame her as Chelsea closed her eyes. She was well aware that she had grown up in a very privileged bubble compared to most, and especially compared to Jack and Amber, but Lord Above, she hated that they’d been forced to endure so much. “My parents fought for… Jack, the system–”

He cut her off with a little chuckle. “The system isn’t the problem for kids like us.” He gave a dark laugh. “Okay, the system mostly sucks for all kids, but victims of monsters? It’s way, way worse. But she survived. Stayed with her foster family until she turned seventeen and then started hunting for the demon lord. And met up with Andy while looking.” His warm breath tickled her neck as he continued. “She wanted his help looking for that demon lord. And he wouldn’t help her anymore than he’d help me. But we started talking and put a few things together. Mainly, that we were looking for the same nightling.”

He sat up and rubbed at his face. “Andy thinks, and always has, that I was with her for the usual temporary physical release, but really, she was the only one who wanted to help me.” Green eyes begged for forgiveness as he turned to her. “It was everything to us. Every second we weren’t hunting, we schemed how to kill the fucker. But all our plans had major flaws. I want it dead, I do. But despite what Andy thinks, I never wanted to die doing it. Amber though…” He shook his head “She didn’t want to wait for the perfect moment, she just wanted it gone. And I…” He sucked in a deep breath. “Maybe I don’t know how I feel about her, still I don’t want her dead. So I stopped. Told her we weren’t partners in that or anything else. I was done.”

Chelsea thought back to Andy’s version of the story. “And she couldn’t let it go?”

“No. And she won’t, not ever.” He sighed. “I don’t avoid her because she’s love in with me, or thinks she is. I avoid her because I don’t want to get sucked back into that fight again. I gave it up. Yeah, I’ll kill the fucking demon lord if the chance ever comes up, but I don’t hunt for it anymore. I don’t obsess. And then I met you.”

Chelsea’s face warmed as Jack stared at her, wonder in his face. “And for the first time since Charlotte died I wasn’t just counting my blessings to get through the day. I was planning something other than a fight. I don’t know why. Maybe because you were so broken and needed someone to care.”

She found a smile for him. “Maybe you’re more like Charlotte than you realize.”

“Maybe.” He shrugged. “I never wanted to make a team or settle down in one place. That was always Andy. I only ever stayed around for him, and the first decent fight we had, I split for good.” Jackson slumped over, staring out the window. “But I wanted to help you from that first night. And then I just wanted you.” He closed his eyes as his shoulders tensed and strained. “And I fucked it up.”

Chelsea sat up and rested her forehead on his back. “We fucked it up. Remember?”

A small laugh escaped, and the muscles under her relaxed. “Yeah, I remember.” 

He reached out a hand, and she gave him hers. He pulled her arm around him. Chelsea settled into his back, as she pulled into a tight hug, both hands clasped to his stomach.

Jack sucked in a breath. “But this time, the fuck up might be all on me.”

Her throated constricted and her voice came out strangled. “Why’s that?”

“Because I’m going after her alone.”

Anger rose in her, and her arms tightened. “Oh, really?”

“If she’s going after the demon lord, I can’t let her do it alone. And I can’t have you there.”

“Why?”

“What part of ‘she doesn’t plan this hunt well’ did you miss earlier?” Jack threw himself to his feet. 

Chelsea fought her temper and won. She wanted real answers, not a fight. “Then why are you going?” 

“Because…” Jack ran a hand through his hair. “What if we can?”

“What if you can’t? What if this is another one of her crazy plans that won’t work?” Chelsea laughed. “What if this isn’t even about that demon lord, but just a random hunt? You’re speculating.”

Jackson’s eyes narrowed. “Aren’t you in love with her?”

“Yes.” Chelsea leaned forward. “But you are the one insisting on going yourself to help her. You’re the one who knows her stories. You know about her family. Hell, you know more about her than I do.”

Jackson flinched. Eyes now firmly out the window and refusing to look at her, his voice tightly controlled. “Amber and I… whatever we might have been… it never… It was only about that hunt, that demon lord. She doesn’t care about anything else. Or anyone.”

“Is that true? Or is that what you need to tell yourself to make it hurt less?” 

There was no reply. He turned away from her and leaned against the window. 

Chelsea let him go, staying on the bed and keeping her distance. “Isn’t that what we did? Told ourselves lies to justify protecting our feelings?”

“It’s not the same.” Defeat layered his voice.

“Okay.” She let her disbelief out in the single word. “But your story doesn’t add up when I see you like this.”

He whirled around. “See me like what?”

“Like this.” She waved a hand at me. “You’re upset and defeated and ready to go on a suicide mission for her.”

Anger twisted up his face. “For revenge!”

“For her.” Chelsea laughed. “You said that you let this go. You’d take a decently planned fight, but not die for revenge. And then you turn around and tell me I can’t go with you two because you’ll die. So if you aren’t dying for revenge, then it really seems like you’re dying for Amber.”

Red spread across his cheeks and nose and ran down his throat to his chest, but Jackson had nothing to say.

Amusement drifted through Chelsea, and she waved a hand at him. “I’m not judging. It took me a long, long time to admit I was in love with both of you.”

Jack rubbed at his eyes. “I’m not in love–”

Chelsea snorted. “Really not trying to fight with you, but you’re even less in touch with your feelings than I am.”

Jackson sighed and settled on the bed beside her. “I’m not in love with her.”

Chelsea shrugged. “I adore Keegan. I would die for him or his daughter. But I wouldn’t let him get me killed. There is a difference.”

“Would you let me get you killed?” The slight note of amusement was a relief.

“Already planning on it, since there is no way in hell you’re going to do this without me.”

His eyes narrowed once more and Chelsea prepared herself for a fight.