Almost Demon (The Sigil Cycle) Read online

  Finally, when the first hint of day splashed across the window above my bed, I crept down the hall and out for my run, in an attempt to avoid my father as much as possible until I figured out a way to cure everyone.

  Remembering my idea to try to talk to a Dybbuk, I stopped on the patio. The spirit was stretched on the lounger and when I squinted, it almost looked like a person staring at the sky.

  “Hey,” I said.

  The black smoke released it shape and reformed.

  “Can you understand me?” I asked.

  It evaporated and reappeared beside me in a poof.

  “I’m going to take that as a yes. Want to join me?”

  It didn’t answer but as I jogged down the stairs, it followed.

  On the brighter side of things, at least today I had a partner.

  When I got back to the house, the sun was beginning its slow ascent over the trees. Ghosty had kept pace and I was hesitant to leave it when my run ended.

  “I’ll see you after school. I’ve got an idea,” I said and went into the house.

  My shower was quick but I couldn’t help but linger a few extra minutes in front of the mirror, fascinated by the smooth skin that now covered both my legs.

  Part of me wanted to cry at the loss. One more step pulling me away from the accident. No more physical reminders. If the scars are gone then what still connects me to Brian?

  Stop it, Gem. It’s probably temporary.

  It was still early when I got to school so I opted to sit on a bench outside beneath an old maple tree instead of spending extra time trapped within the confines of the school. My view of the faculty parking lot wasn’t much. There was a single car there, covered in dew.

  Must have sat there all night.

  A stray gray cat stuck its head out from behind the front tire, skittered across the pavement onto the lawn, and made its way around onto the granite base of the statue of James Madison that stood at the far end of campus. It then jumped onto the bike rack, padded across the entire length without skipping a beat, and jumped down, landing at the crosswalk. As I marveled at the little guy’s agility, I heard the telltale sound of a car careening out of control. Tires screeched and a small green sedan slid into view, crashing right into the stop sign. The cat was nowhere to be seen. I got up and ran towards the accident, while pulling out my cellphone.

  A scrawny tail twitched from beneath the front wheel.

  Eww. Poor guy.

  The windshield had shattered into a web of small pieces, still holding on to one another. The side window was fogged up and I couldn’t make out if the driver was hurt. I opened the door, only to find the vehicle empty. All the airbags had been deployed. I leaned over the seat to check the back row. Nothing.

  I scrambled out and put a good distance between myself and the eerie scene. The preternatural feeling that I was being watched crawled up my neck and when I raised my eyes up the crest of the street, I saw all of them. Standing there, at the top, dozens of dark shadows. And in a blink of an eye, they dissolved into the air.

  A deep rumble came from the other direction, breaking the thrall. A black motorcycle rolled into the parking lot and parked beneath the solar panel awnings. The rider was wearing white running shoes.

  “Thom,” I yelled and ran towards him, waving my arms in the air like a mad woman.

  He pulled the full-faced helmet off and strapped it with a bungee onto the back. “Gemma.” His voice was strong and clear, his eyes on me.

  “The Dybbuk. They were there,” I said, trying to catch my breath. “At the top of the hill. Then a car came crashing with no one inside. And the cat. He’s dead. And my dad. He’s off the handle and I think he’s been possessed.”

  “Slow down. Let’s go inside.”

  We went straight to our homeroom, passing several more Dybbuk lining the halls. “There’s more of them. What’s going on?” I whispered.

  “Seems like someone has stepped up the timetable. Looks like it’s become an infestation now.”

  “Is there anything we can do? These things aren’t just dangerous, they’re going to cause chaos. Did you see that empty car they rolled down the street? We need to resolve their ‘issues,’ isn’t that what Ashtaroth said to do?”

  “Even if we could figure out a way to communicate with them, there are too many now. We can’t fix each soul’s problem one by one. By the time we resolve a single soul’s problem, ten more will crop up.” He was pacing now and pulling at his hair.

  “What other choice do we have?”

  “We keep with the summonings. There is bound to be someone who’ll tell us what’s going on?”

  “And you expect me to keep getting tatted up until then?”

  “I told you this was important. I was willing to let you go back to your life. You’re the one who begged to keep going. Remember that part?” Flames appeared in his eyes that scared me no end.

  “Fine then. Let’s go through the book and pick someone else. Should I close my eyes while you flip through the pages and we’ll just summon whomever I land on? Or do you think you could, for one minute, give me some insight? You act like you know everything.”

  Thom stalked to the teacher’s closet and pulled out his keys.

  “Knock knock.” The door swung open and Principal Kelly strode in, awash in a frilly, lavender blouse, a long, purple, tie-died tiered jersey skirt and purple cowboy boots.

  “Good morning, Principal Kelly,” I said, eyeing Thom, who continued to busy himself with an armful of books.

  “Good morning,” he said, placing a stack of paperbacks onto his desk.

  “Just thought I’d check in on you. See how you were handling things.”

  “We’re having a jolly time, aren’t we, Miss Pope?”

  “Yup. Mr. Flynn is an awesome teacher.”

  “Good. Good.” She kept staring at Thom and wringing her hands.

  “Would you like to observe the class today?” Thom said.

  “No, no. Just checking in.” She began muttering something under her breath and left the room, never giving us her back.

  “Do you think one of them got to her?”

  “Don’t think so. We’ll continue our conversation later.” He tugged on his ear and pointed to the door. I got the hint that now wouldn’t be the best time to get involved in a satanic ritual.

  I was disappointed that Ian was nowhere to be found for most of the day. Nor was Charlotte, until lunchtime. She was already seated at a table filled with some other members of the squad. “Gemma!” She waved me over.

  “Hey.” I stood there with my lunch tray, not making any move to join them.

  “Sit,” she said, tapping the empty space beside her.

  I looked around at the faces of some of my former teammates, who were looking down at their food instead of at me.

  “It’s alright. I’ll catch up with you later.” I hightailed it out of there and kept going until I found an empty classroom.

  “Gemma, wait up.”

  I turned to see Charlotte running after me in her ridiculously tall shoes. She tripped a bit but caught herself on me, sending the tray and half of my lunch to the floor. The other half was all over my clothing. I wiped the pea soup off the front of my jeans.

  “Great. Thanks, Charlotte. As if my day wasn’t shitty enough already.” I could feel my marks ignite in awareness.

  “Oh wow, Gemma. You can be a real bitch sometimes.”

  “I don’t really need this right now. I didn’t want to sit with you. What’s the big deal?”

  I have to get away from her before something happens with these sigils.

  “The big deal is that you’re my friend and you can’t keep avoiding everyone.”

  “Morgan and Emma didn’t seem too thrilled to have me there,” I said, sounding more than snotty.

  “Well, they’re going to be there this weekend at my house. I thought now would be a good time to break the ice.”

  “I don’t need your help, Charlotte. They haven
’t said a word to me since the accident. Maybe I just shouldn’t come.” I started to walk away.

  Maybe I have some clean clothes in my gym locker.

  “Gem, don’t walk away from me.”

  I ignored her and kept going, the pain in my arm receding with every step, making it all the more easier to run away.

  The locker room was humid as usual and the puke green walls added to the swampy feel. I rushed to my locker and managed to find a semi-clean t-shirt and a pair of sweats. After changing, I noticed how bare my arms were and hoped that the cuff would be enough to hide the growing marks on my arm.

  When I turned to leave, Allison was blocking my way out of the aisle.

  “Thought I forgot about you?” she asked.

  “No, I thought maybe you’d have something better to do with your time.” I shoved the dirty clothes into my gym bag and zipped it up.

  I hope it doesn’t start stinking.

  “You’re right. I am busy. Somehow I managed to carve out some time for you.”

  A shadow moved to the forefront, hovering just beyond her body. Allison mimicked every movement it made. First, taking two steps forward. Then curving her arms to the side of her body. Next, the skin and muscle on her hands fell away, revealing bone that elongated and sharpened into two scythe-like blades.

  I stepped away, the backs of my knees bumping into the low bench, and toppled down to the ceramic tiled floor.

  “That should be mine.” She drew one blade towards me and I crab walked until my back slammed into the row of lockers. The sight of Allison’s hideous form poised above me brought bile up my throat.

  She slipped one sharp hand beneath the cuff and yanked. When the buttons gave, I felt the air on the bare skin of my wrist and watched as blood pooled on the surface of the shallow slit inflicted by Allison.

  One hand reformed and snatched the leather cuff off the point of the blade.

  “I’m the one that gave this to him. I’m the one who should have it,” she said, shoving it into her pocket. “And what’s this?” She grabbed my hand and examined the markings that were now visible.

  “Leave me alone, Allison,” I said, struggling to get out of her grip.

  “You’re a freak now, aren’t you?” She let out a cackle. “Wait until everyone finds out about this, you satanic whore.”

  Finally, distracted by her own glee, Allison released me and I ran straight for the door. Outside, crowds of students were waiting for the change of periods. With my head down, I walked past the row of administrative offices and the security desk.

  “Gemma?” Principal Kelly stepped out into the hallway.

  “Yes?”

  “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “Out,” I replied.

  She looked down at my arm; the blood had coagulated and caked around my wrist.

  “Is everything alright?”

  “I’m fine. My lunch spilled all over me, I’m having a really bad day and I’m not feeling too well.”

  “Let’s have the nurse look at that.”

  “It’s okay. My father’s a doctor. I just really want to go home,” I pleaded.

  “I’m going to let you leave now, Gemma, even though it’s against school policy. But I expect a meeting with you tomorrow.”

  “I promise,” I said, and ran as fast as my feet could take me.

  Outside, I found Ian sitting on the stairs, like he had been the day before, engrossed in a video game. I sat next to him and leaned my head against his arm.

  “Hey,” he said. “What’s going on?”

  I placed my arm on his knee. “Allison has gone bat shit crazy. I can’t go back in there. Everyone will see my marks. I’m too tired of my dad to go back home. You know, regular teen drama.”

  “Come on. Let’s go,” he said, pulling me up. He took off his jacket and placed it over my shoulders.

  “Can we go dancing?” I asked, looking up at his clear eyes and seeing the smile that grew at my request.

  “Sure.”

  When we got to the tree, Ian sat cross-legged at the base of the trunk and I did the same.

  “Let me show you how this works. This tree is special. It has the power to identify you whenever you come to access the Drifts. You gift it with a drop of your blood and it will know you for the rest of your life. Here, let me help.” He drew my injured wrist towards him and pinched the wound. A fresh drop of blood beaded to the top.

  “Ouch,” I said.

  “Relax. That’s it. Now let it fall on the soil. It’ll find its way to the roots.”

  I did as Ian said and the tree responded with a deep groan.

  “Is that it?” I asked.

  “Yup. Now for the real lesson.” He placed my hand on the indentation I had seen him use before.

  “I thought this was soil. It feels like stone.” I marveled at the texture of the rock that had a botanical appearance.

  “It is stone. A special stone that was quarried in a mine on the other side. That’s how it works. This stone is a piece of the Drifts. It acts as a touchstone. Lets the tree know where you want to go.”

  “That’s amazing.”

  “Now all you do is envision your destination and the tree sends the right door. The touchstone tells it that we’re going to use the Drifts.”

  “What are the Drifts?”

  “Think of it like Grand Central Station. A hub where all the tunnels converge.”

  “So I just think about yesterday?”

  “Yup?”

  “Ok, here we go.” With my hand in place, I concentrated on the dancing, the mob of people moving in unison, the lights and the people watching from above.

  The door with the golden goat leg appeared.

  “One more thing before we go in,” he continued. “Keep your thoughts on where you want to go at all times. This way the right drift picks you up. If your concentration wavers, I can’t guarantee where we’ll end up.”

  I stood up and took his hand. He raised one eyebrow, which gave him a mischievous aura, and we set off together into the darkness.

  The trips through the Drifts were getting easier. Ian showed me his reference points when counting his steps on the frozen lake. Instead of free falling through the portal, we descended smoothly until our feet touched ground.

  “Good work,” he mouthed, cupping my cheek in his hand and placing a languorous kiss on my lips as the music engulfed us.

  Either the DJ was better than before or I was in greater need of the release. I submitted to Ian and let him lead me to the precipice of ecstasy as our bodies moved to the tribal drum and bass. The energy that surrounded us was palpable and I could feel it soak into me. I watched as the slit on my wrist mended itself before my very eyes. Euphoria filled every cell in my body until I felt like I was going to burst.

  “I could stay here forever,” I told Ian, after we had made our way upstairs to an empty table.

  “That could be arranged,” he said.

  Embarrassed, I turned my attention to the people below. At least, most of them were people. This time I noticed that not everyone here was human.

  “Who are they?” I asked.

  “Some of them are from Earth. Others are from a different place.”

  “And how does all this work?” I showed him the uniform skin of my once-injured arm.

  “Good vibes. The energy here heals you. Heals your mind. Your body. That’s why it feels so good down there. Come on. I want you to meet someone.”

  He took me around the catwalk and past the other tables of onlookers, some of whom had slitted eyes and a reptilian quality to their skin. One of the women wore a blood red velvet gown, a python around her neck. At her feet knelt a man on a leash.

  We walked behind a bar to a door, framed with ornately cut wood, and guarded by a large shirtless giant covered in tattoos. They were sigils, like mine, but his undulated over his skin with power, even reaching his lips and eyelids.

  My attention was caught by the sculpted figures behind
him that acted out a grotesque scene of demons whipped into a state of agony by serene-faced angels.

  “Ian.” Mr. Muscle’s voice was softer than I had expected. “Sister,” he said, nodding in my direction.

  “Sorry?” I asked.

  “You are a practitioner. As I am. Or have I been mistaken?”

  “Um. Yeah. I guess.” I gave him a half smile.

  “We are few and far between. Remember that. If you’re ever in need of help.” He bared his teeth, most of which were gold, and I couldn’t help cringing.

  “Let’s get going,” Ian said. He grabbed my hand and led me straight inside.

  Plush black shag carpeting overpowered the entire area. The walls were lined with built-ins displaying various artifacts individually illuminated by the track lighting above. Behind a massive black onyx desk sat a middle-aged man with a bald head and good skin. He wore a black suit, a black collarless shirt and had a long silver chain around his neck bearing a large iron cross embedded with turquoise.

  “Ian. What have you brought for me this time?” He steepled his finger before him and smiled.

  “This is Gemma. The one I was telling you about.”

  “Ah, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Gemma. I’m Sam. Please have a seat.” Ian and I each sat in one of the cowhide upholstered chairs. “Are you enjoying your time here?” Sam asked.

  “Yeah. It’s amazing.”

  “I hear you have some experience in the arcane arts.”

  “Um. Just a little. I’m not an expert or anything.”

  “Don’t sell yourself short, Gemma, darling. Someone with your talents, who can successfully summon anything, is truly rare. It takes the right kind of person with the right combination of talents to do what you’re doing.”

  “Thanks,” I said. I think.

  “Show me your arm.”

  I hesitated.

  “It’s okay. He’s cool. He owns this place,” Ian said, with a smile of encouragement.

  “This is beautiful work,” Sam said.