Building up to Christmas with Dusty the Demon Hunter - A Blast from the Past - Flights of Fantasy Part 3

Dusty the Demon Hunter has had a few adventures that she decided to share with me - seven in all (so far) and this is the second one, hot on the heels of Dream Lover, came Flights of Fantasy.

This is the updated book cover. My wonderful best friend, Anna posed for these pics.

This was the original cover

Images of the book covers are mine, all others are from Google's Free for use image search unless the source is stated.

As ever, I have so many stories rolling around in my head, I can't recall every detail, so you'll just have to read it with me.

Enjoy!

Part 1
Part 2

Flights of Fantasy

Ange waved again to direct the newcomer towards the table and the first words he spoke took Dusty aback at the animosity in them.

“Who’s this and what’s she doing here? I thought we had an arrangement.”

“We do and I thought you had some manners. This is my best friend, we always meet on a Saturday, I told you that and you said it wasn’t a problem. If it’s suddenly become a problem, we can leave and go shopping without you.”

“I suppose it’s ok.” The cousin muttered in a typical teenage sulk.

“Dusty, this is Finn my cousin.”

Dusty nodded to him and he scowled back at her. She was tempted to alter her eyes in order to scare him but something held her back from doing so.

Dusty listened whilst Finn and Ange caught up with family gossip – or at least Ange talked and Finn seemed to be listening. He didn’t have earphones in his ears or anything obvious to make Dusty believe he wasn’t paying attention to what his cousin was telling him, but Ange wasn’t happy.

She knew him better than that, and all of a sudden she snaked out her hand to grab him by the wrist to get him to at least look at her while she was talking to him.

She must have expected him to pull back from her grasp because even as she grabbed hold of his coat sleeve, she continued moving her hand towards him and the motion pushed up the sleeve of his coat and both Dusty and Ange gasped as they saw the vivid red scratches on his arm. Some of the scratches were deep.

He jerked his hand away and pulled the sleeve down. Dusty saw the flush of pink in his cheeks as though he was embarrassed by Ange’s discovery.

Finn began to get up from his chair to leave but Ange wasn’t having that. She snarled at him in a quiet but angry voice. “Sit down right now or I’ll go straight round to your house and have it out with your mother.”

“Go on then, do it,” Finn said, defying her to carry out her threat but he sat down. “She wouldn’t care anyway. She doesn’t take any notice of me, what I do, where I go, what time I come back.” His voice was flat and empty and it touched Dusty deeper than if he had broken down and begun crying.

“Let’s go back to my house. We can talk there. If you like, you can stay over tonight.” Ange said in a far more gentle tone than before and he looked up at her and Dusty could see that they had once been very close.

Finn nodded.

They all went back to Ange’s house and she busied herself making drinks while Finn wandered around, checking things out.

Dusty followed him because she wasn’t quite sure of the troubled young man. Her suspicions were justified when she saw him go into Ange’s room.

Dusty watched from half way up the stairs and saw that he was rifling through her drawers. He found her purse and Dusty saw his reflection in the mirror as he took out some notes and pocketed the cash.

Dusty pretended that she was on her way up the stairs as he came out of the bedroom and she was angry that he showed no hint of guilt or remorse.

“Your coffee’s on the table in the living room,” she told him.

He nodded and Dusty could see the sullenness was back. Her eyes narrowed to slits and she hoped that Ange would forgive her for what she was about to do. She followed him back down the stairs.

“Take your coat off, Finn,” Ange told him. “You’re staying for a bit aren’t you?”

He was reluctant to take it off but he could see no excuse to leave it on, they’d both seen his wrist so he may as well remove it.

Ange’s face almost crumpled in sorrow when she saw the damage to both wrists, they were criss-crossed with scratches, some were not so deep but others looked as though they would have used some medical attention when they had been fresh. At least they were not genuine attempts at suicide, she could be thankful for that.

“I think we have a lot of talking to do,” Ange began.

“I don’t want to talk in front of her,” Finn said. He didn’t look at Dusty but it was clear that he meant her.

“I’m not surprised. I think I know more about you than you like to think.”

Dusty stood up fast and caught Finn by surprise.

She took hold of his upper arm and jerked him to his feet. He spilled his coffee and Ange gave a cry of alarm but didn’t try to stop her.

Dusty reached into Finn’s pocket and he struggled to prevent her from getting the notes that he’d stolen, but his struggles were ineffective and she held the money up in front of his face.

“Your cousin shows you kindness and concern and the very first thing you do is steal from her. Where do you get off doing that to her? She needs this money to survive. The rent on this place doesn’t pay itself you know, she has to work hard for it. What do you do all day, Emo-boy? I can make a good guess. You mope around in your bedroom, bemoaning your miserable existence and thinking I’ll make them sorry! They’ll be sorry they treated me like this when I’m dead! Oh poor me!” Dusty flung his arm away from her, causing him to lose his balance and fall back onto the sofa.

Ange was aghast at the scene and she didn’t know whether to be angry with Dusty for picking on her cousin or furious with Finn for stealing from her. She chose fury.

“You took my money?” Ange began but Dusty stopped her. Finn was looking at his shoes at the time and didn’t see the silent exchange that went on between the two women.

Dusty started taunting him. “You’re not much use are you, Finn? You make an attempt at making your loved ones sorry by killing yourself and you can’t even do that right. You’re a gutless wonder, stealing from family, probably your friends too which is why you’ve got none and I bet you think it’s all everyone else’s fault rather than yours? How many times did you try to commit suicide then Finn? By the look of those chicken scratches on your arms, it’s quite a few...”

Dusty grabbed hold of his wrist and pulled it away from his body where he had clamped it to his side so that she couldn’t see the marks.

Dusty had noticed something and she took hold of his other wrist then and pulled him up in his seat.

She pushed the wrists together and Ange realised what she was doing when she saw the pattern of the marks. They fitted together perfectly. He couldn’t have made the marks on his own wrists.

Dusty dropped his wrists and he didn’t pull them back to his sides, he instead pushed his long sleeves up his arms to reveal more scratches in the same weird patterns. Finn held his arms close together so that they could see the tracks that the scratches made. There were many scratches but the deeper ones were in parallel lines of four and there were more up his arms towards his elbows.

Dusty looked at Ange and saw the horror on her face.

Finn looked up at them both and his misery seemed complete but at last, tears began to well and spill from his eyes. Ange sat at the side of him and put her arm around him to pull him close. He resisted for a second but allowed her to pull him to her and wrap her other arm around him.

Dusty heard him whisper to Ange: “Why is she such a bitch?”

“She’s not a bitch, she’s my friend and if you let her, she’ll be your friend too as long as you don’t steal from her.”

“I don’t mean to steal. I just can’t help it.” Finn was still whispering but Dusty heard him and things began to click into place so she went to the kitchen to re-fill the coffees that had been spilled or gone cold. While she was making coffee, she thought.