Almost Demon (The Sigil Cycle) Read online

  “Sure, Dad. Whatever.” I tried to keep my voice stone cold but it was hard when the lump of dread was threatening to break free.

  I thought I caught a flash of something dark pass over his face.

  Could one of the Dybbuk have taken him too?

  Just then the clouds passed, sending the morning light in through the vertical blinds. I could make out the deep lines of wrinkles around his mouth and the bags under his eyes. Nope. No supernatural explanation for what he said. Only pure spite.

  I left him as he was, standing in the kitchen, waiting for some kind of daughterly response that probably involved some hugging and a lot of denial.

  Outside, I found Ghosty, who seemed to have committed my morning routine to memory. When I went on my run, he waited in his usual spot on the patio and then, two hours later, stood outside the front door.

  “Bye, Ghosty.” I waved, unsure if his presence confirmed the fact that my father just hated me and had not been possessed by a spiteful and bitchy soul.

  Maybe something else had gotten to him. Sure, Gemma, keep telling yourself that. And maybe unicorns do exist.

  At school the mood wasn’t any better. Everyone seemed to be on edge, snapping at each other for silly reasons. Then again, in high school that was expected.

  When I walked into homeroom, Thom was handing out issues of the New York Times. “Good Morning, Miss Pope,” he said.

  “Good Morning, Mr. Flynn,” I said and sat down displaying my covered wrist.

  He glanced down and said, “Nice choice.”

  “You, too,” I replied, pointing to the purple-checked shirt he wore today beneath a gray cashmere sweater. He managed to look good even if he insisted on wearing white sneakers every day. His sleeves were rolled up and I noticed how bare they were, save for the dusting of light blond hair.

  How come I was the one getting stuck with the body art?

  “Class, today we are going to do things a bit differently,” Thom said walking to the white board. “In front of you is all the news that’s fit to print.” He pointed to the paper’s banner he had projected. “I would like each of you to read an article and identify instances of bias. Journalism isn’t supposed to contain any. However, it happens every day.”

  I scanned the headlines on the front page and wondered if I was being overly sensitive, thinking that things seemed extra depressing.

  “Which one are you doing?” Ian leaned over and asked.

  Our conversation from the night before had been short and sweet.

  “Maybe I can find some bias in the sports section,” I said, reluctant to read anything that could possibly depress me more.

  “Are we still on for today?”

  “I think so,” I replied. “I might have to meet up with Mr. Flynn first. Text me later and I’ll have a better idea on the time.”

  “Sure.” He smiled and went back to flipping through the layers of newsprint before him.

  I was trying to decide between “Mass Airstrikes on Afghanistan kills Dozens including Allied Soldiers” and “Rebels move towards Capital of Gabon,” when I felt the familiar buzz of my phone rattling through the things in my bag.

  I peeked inside so as not to call attention to my obvious violation of school rules.

  Dad: Gemma. Be home by six. No excuses.

  The snort that erupted from my nose came out louder than expected with half the room, including Ian and Thom, looking at me questioningly.

  “Is there a problem, Miss Pope?” Thom asked.

  “Um, not really.”

  I thought he would let it go. Instead he motioned with his finger to come up to his desk. I wrestled with the newspaper, sending a chorus of crackling until I managed to crumble it into some vision of its former self. I looked over at Ian, who was chuckling as he flicked his copy of The Times, neatly folded into quadrants and framing the story he was reading.

  “Show off,” I whispered as I got up and made my way towards the teacher’s desk.

  “Miss Pope.”

  It was still a bit disconcerting when Thom, Mr. Flynn, whatever he was at the moment, went all formal on me.

  I wonder if he feels as funny around me as I do about him.

  “Yes?”

  “We will meet today after school.”

  “I figured,” I answered, “I’d let you use the time to explain why you left out a little detail to this whole ritual thing. Does this even come off?” I lowered my voice for the last question.

  He looked up at me from his chair and I could see he was holding something back. He looked at the class and then at me with his warm eyes. “We’ll discuss it later.”

  “Fine.” I let it go for now, trusting that he would tell me everything when we were alone. If not, I was going to have to pry it out of him with my bare hands.

  I went back to my seat and couldn’t make sense of the small words that followed one another like rows of marching ants. I looked back from my newspaper to the text my dad had sent and my heart filled with regret.

  “I’ll drive this time. Gemma gets shotgun and you two shrimps get to squeeze in the back,” Brian stated as he snatched the keys from Jenny’s grasp.

  The sun was dipping low past the tree line that surrounded the lake. I was busy cleaning up the wrappers and Styrofoam boxes from the little takeout lunch Brian and Mimi were kind enough to go pick up for all of us. As I tied a knot in the plastic bag and looked for any sign of the Goodwins’ trashcans, Mimi grabbed the blankets.

  With Jenny and Brian busy arguing and clawing their way to the top of the hill, I was engaged in a fervent prayer that Mimi would not use this time to broach the subject of dating my brother.

  “Gem?” Mimi started.

  “Hmm?” I replied, pretending to be engrossed in my search for the holy grail of trash receptacles.

  “I don’t know how to ask you this.”

  She didn’t continue until I turned to face her. Mimi was so pretty. Her almond-shaped eyes turned on their corners, giving her an ever-inquisitive look that matched her personality. Her smooth, thick, black hair could have easily overshadowed her features if they weren’t set against a backdrop of porcelain skin that illuminated her petite round face beneath the gorgeous mane.

  “Ask away. Unless you’re going to ask to borrow my red velvet mini dress. That’s a definite no.”

  “No.” She laughed in a way I imagined fairies would if they were real. “Nothing like that.”

  “Then what is it?”

  “It’s about Brian,” she said, wringing the blankets in her hands like she was holding on for dear life.

  “Yeah?”

  “Gem. I really like him and he likes me and I just wanted to know if it was okay with you if we started seeing each other. I told him not to break things off with Allison until I got your permission.”

  “Mimi, you don’t need my permission to date my brother. He’s my twin, not my husband.”

  “You sure act like an old married couple.”

  “Well, that has been years in the making. Look, I’m fine with you dating Brian, just don’t come running to me when he does something monstrously idiotic.”

  “Thanks, Gemma.”

  I could see that she was still unsure about how this was going to affect our relationship as friends. So I did what I thought a good friend would do and drew her in for a hug.

  “And next time, Mimi.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Let someone else fold the blankets. You did an awful job.”

  “Better than you would have done.” She was laughing now and I could tell things were going to be fine.

  “I didn’t say that someone else should be me.”

  We linked arms and headed to the car, blissfully unaware that it would be our last moments together.

  The school bell brought me back to the room and I realized I hadn’t completed the assignment. Not that I particularly cared.

  “I’ll meet you out front after school, Gem,” Ian said, getting up from his seat.


  “Yeah. Figure around five o’clock. Is that good?”

  “Sure.”

  There is no way I’m missing out on this, no matter how pissed off Dad is.

  I tried not to stare at his ass for too long. Between my growing feelings for Ian and having no one to share my new or old experiences with, I was coming to a point where the floodgates were going to open and I was going to spill everything to Charlotte.

  Charlotte’s cool. I could tell her. Chances are she would be the only one to actually believe anything magic related.

  She was convinced the key chain filled with lucky charms in her bag brought her specific types of good fortune. Her rabbit’s foot was in tune with the universe’s good shoe sales. Her green enamel rhinestone-covered four-leaf clover directs her to money she finds in the street. Even the plastic lucky Asian cat with the moveable tail got her free Chinese takeout. I kept telling her that one was a bit racist.

  I finally caught up with her at lunch and was amused to see the look on her face when Ian joined us. “So, wow, Ian. I heard you’re starting quarterback this season. That’s so awesome,” she started.

  Both of them noticed the surprised look I had on my face as I scrunched my eyebrows in confusion.

  “Yeah. Gemma. I didn’t get a chance to tell you,” Ian replied.

  “Wow. That’s great,” I said and meant it.

  “Yeah. Not too bad for a new guy,” Charlotte said as she squirted a pack of ketchup onto the underside of her hamburger bun without getting it anywhere near her white belted blouse, which I’m sure wasn’t meant to be worn like a dress. Charlotte, however, insisted that, at her height, everything was dress length.

  “I’m really happy for you, Ian,” I said.

  “Let’s see how happy everyone else is when we play the Knights next Friday,” he replied.

  “As long as you trash talk the other team, you’ll be fine. No one expects anything out of our team since Brian isn’t here. Not that you’re probably not great, Ian, but Brian was super awesome. We even made it to the State Champions last year. I think I’ll eat my food now,” Charlotte said, diving into her burger.

  With all of us silenced by our lunch, I realized that the sigil that had so far gone unnoticed was beginning to thrum beneath the soft leather cuff. I snuck a look. It looked the same as far as I could tell.

  “What you got there?” Ian asked.

  “Nothing.” I let my arm drop to my side.

  The tension was obvious from the lack of conversation. Charlotte eyed me from behind her last bite and gave me a knowing look. “I’m outie. Super nice talking to you, Ian.”

  As she walked away, I felt the sensation in my wrist begin to subside until she was out of the room then it faded to nothing.

  “What’s going on, Gem?”

  “I’m not really sure.”

  “Sounds interesting.” He grinned, his smile reaching his eyes.

  I looked down at my hands, giving the leather cuff a turn and tried to come up with a good reason to tell him. And a good reason not to. I was pretty much on the fence until he said,

  “Was that your brother’s?”

  I smiled, picturing Brian on his bed, playing the solo from Comfortably Numb for the millionth time, trying to get it perfect.

  “Yeah. I always made fun of his geriatric taste in music.”

  “I got to hand it to him though. Pink Floyd could very well be the best rock band of all time.”

  “If I told you something important, do you promise not to act like I was crazy?”

  “I’m pretty open-minded.” He leaned in closer and I could make out the green flecks mixed in with the blue of his irises. “Remember, I’m the one with the freaky mode of transportation.”

  I unclipped the two buttons and showed him the tattoo.

  “Nice ink. What does it mean?” he asked.

  “Well, I’ve been doing a bit of magic and it turns out you can’t get away with doing it for free. So here I am, left with a tattoo I have no way of explaining to anyone.” I pursed my lips and blew out some air, sending the stray hairs out of my eyes.

  “You sure you know what you’re doing? That stuff can get complicated. And dangerous.”

  His concern warmed me more than I cared to admit.

  “Yeah. I have help.” I left out the part that our English teacher was also an expert in the demonic arts.

  “Just be careful,” he said clasping my hand in his.

  “I will.”

  He didn’t let go of me until it was time again for class. We confirmed our after-school plans and went our separate ways. Mine included another torturous session of gym and a chemistry class I was getting lost in.

  I was happy to see that Allison hadn’t made it to class and I could spend my time paying attention to Mr. Flynn’s in-depth explanation of Hamlet’s soliloquy. Ian, however, also wasn’t there, which I should have expected from the way he kept verifying our non-date. Even though this was our third time spending time alone with one another, I wasn’t jumping to any conclusions until he started using explicit terminology. If he didn’t use the word ‘date’ it didn’t count as one. Even Mimi would agree with me on that one. At least, she would have.

  When it was just Thom and I in the room, he took his usual spot next to me as I pulled out the heavy grimoire from my bag.

  “This thing is getting too heavy to lug around.”

  “I could lock it up here. You could copy certain pages or take photos with your mobile if you need to work on something specific.”

  “That might be a good idea. I don’t like leaving it home either.”

  “So, have you given much thought to your demon of choice?” He was more at ease today, leaning back against the chair with his legs stretched before him.

  “Can’t say I have.”

  “Tsk. Tsk. Gemma. Get to work.”

  I skimmed through the texts as best as I could. At least the book was organized, each section catalogued according to the demon in charge and his or her underlings.

  “How about him?” I pointed to a half man, half lion riding a bear with a serpent in hand.

  “Meh.”

  “Alrighty, I’ll keep looking.”

  I was getting antsy. In another hour, Ian would be waiting on the front steps of the building and if I didn’t pick the right demon soon, I was going to be stuck here for a while.

  Finally, I left my choice to instinct and settled on the page with a winged man, also holding a serpent named Ashtaroth. What’s with all the snakes? His page held a complex drawing of a pentagram along with a short story describing his temptations of St. Bartholomew.

  “How about this one? Duke Ashtaroth, says here he can answer any question posed to him. That sounds promising.”

  “Could work,” Thom answered.

  “You know, I can’t tell if you’re being sarcastic or not.”

  “Must be the accent. You Yanks seem to use so much energy deciphering the words, you lose much of the meaning.”

  “So, am I on the right track now?”

  “I think we could give it a whirl.”

  I pulled out a piece of parchment, set on the task and with the last circular flourish, asked: “Am I going to find this somewhere on my body too?”

  “You know it.”

  “How come I have to get them? Why am I the one who even needs to do this? You seem to know everything there is to know about this stuff.”

  He took a moment before answering. “Let’s just put it this way. I don’t really have what it takes. What does the old adage say? Whomever can’t, teaches?”

  I looked back down at the page. This sigil would not be as inconspicuous as the last. Ashtaroth, as the book indicated, needed the addition of a pentagram. I was going to look like a psycho demon worshipper.

  “This blows,” I said.

  “Think of the greater good. You’ll be doing your part.”

  “Fine.”

  Thom got up, checked the hallway, and closed the door to the cl
assroom. On his way back to the desk, he picked up a large pillar candle and a small satchel. He placed the candle on his desk, took the paper with the sigil and placed it on the floor in front of me then proceeded to pace around our two desks while pouring a white substance from the small bag.

  “No worries. Just salt,” he said. “You always need to make a circle of protection for yourself.”

  “Doesn’t sound like demons are all hunky dory.”

  “Well, you saw what it was like dealing with an angel. You get nowhere.”

  “I’m just saying.”

  “Keep your thoughts to yourself then, alright?” His voice was clipped. “We’re here to work.”

  I rolled my eyes as he was tying the ends of the little cloth baggie.

  “And I’d appreciate it if you didn’t do that.”

  “Do what?” I replied, jutting my chin up in challenge.

  “Be impudent.” He was looking at me now and I could feel the blaze in his eyes. “This is important. More than you’ll ever know. More than your little life. So just do as I say.”

  He lowered himself back to his seat and lit the candle. I took that as my cue to begin.

  “By the power of three. I summon thee. Ashtaroth. By the power of black fire. Ashtaroth. By the power of black ice. Ashtaroth.”

  The sigil began to glow and expand until it had tripled in size.

  “Is it supposed to be doing that?” I asked.

  “Just watch,” Thom said, and gave me a quick pat of reassurance.

  Smoke started to billow up in a slow, undulating pace. Then, in a flash of blinding light, the demon appeared before us. He wore a drab, mustard yellow suit with a mismatched purple silk shirt and green tie. He had one of those long twirly mustaches and small beady eyes that were too far apart on his face.

  “I’m here. I’m here.” He pulled out a pocket square and wiped away the sweat from his forehead. “You’d think I wasn’t in the middle of something.” He looked down at the summoning circle and grimaced. “And for future reference, can you please make these a little wider. It’s no fun being funneled through a pipe that is two sizes too small for my Rubenesque figure.”