Almost Demon (The Sigil Cycle) Read online

  Talk about two sizes too small. Those buttons look like they’re ready to pop right off.

  He adjusted his clothing a bit and continued.

  “Oh yeah. Ashtaroth at your service.” He bowed, bending from the waist like a concert pianist after giving the performance of his life.

  “Hi, I’m-”

  “No names,” Thom interrupted.

  “Oh I didn’t see that anywhere,” I said, looking back through the grimoire for any reference.

  “It’s a trade secret.” Ashtaroth laughed, revealing rows of sharp overlapping teeth. “Do the powers that be know about your little plaything?” he asked, directing his question to Thom.

  “Everything has had advance approval,” Thom answered.

  “I see. Very well.” He turned to me and began twirling the end of his mustache. “You’re in luck, chicky. I’m running a back- to-school sale. My fee for today is one sigil. I’m not even gonna try to trick you since you’ve got your lawyer friend here.”

  “Whose?” Thom asked.

  “Ah, ah, ah.” He wagged his finger. “That’s between me and the lady.”

  I looked to Thom for some guidance but found none. Instead, his face was drawn into a pensive frown.

  “Tick tock,” Ashtaroth continued. “How about it, chicky? You want me bad enough?”

  I thought about the Dybbuk. We were supposed to be finding out the reason they were here. So far, though, other than Allison and Ms. Halle, I hadn’t seen any more possessions. The thought that my dad could be under one now kept nagging at me. My head kept telling my heart that it was a coping mechanism to explain his shitty behavior.

  Thom said that it was important.

  “Sure,” I said, reaching for his outstretched hand and giving it a solid shake. There was a sizzle followed by a jolt of pain and then the appearance of Ashtaroth’s sigil, linking itself to Ambriel’s. The blood in my face began to boil. I was seeing every shade of red.

  “Can’t anyone give fair warning before slapping me with their signature?”

  “A small price to pay to be a sorceress.” Ashtaroth’s face gleamed. “You should be honored that I am forever plastered onto your skin.”

  I scowled and spoke to Thom through clenched teeth. “What are we going to ask him?”

  He wiped the edges of his mouth with his hand and said, “Give me a minute. I need to phrase it just right.”

  The pentagram on my forearm was noticeably different from the other sigil. Instead of black lines and shaded areas, Ashtaroth’s sigil was a bright orange red, the color of flames.

  I’m going to be stuck in long sleeves for the rest of my life. I wonder if laser treatment can get these off. Hmm.

  “Okay. Why are the Dybbuk here in Harrisport?” Thom paced his words.

  “I’m disappointed. Someone like you should know that answer by now. To tie up loose ends. The soul needs to resolve any past sins in order to move ahead.”

  “That’s not what I am referring to. Why are these Dybbuk specifically in Harrisport? There are more than usual.”

  I watched in silence as the two verbally jousted. Ashtaroth looked as though he was debating whether to answer.

  “They are here fulfilling their end of a bargain with a certain someone whom I am not at liberty to mention. Word is something big is gonna go down here. They want in on the deal. Don’t want to go through the regular steps to get back to the source. They’ve been promised something better.”

  “But it’s the way things have worked for eons,” Thom exclaimed. “Why now?”

  “Sorry folks. Show’s over.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “One question per turn.”

  “You never said that.”

  “I didn’t have to. It’s your job to negotiate terms, chicky.”

  Before I could let loose my emotional tirade, Ashtaroth was gone with a poof, leaving in his wake the scrap of parchment that had once held his sigil but had now been replaced with three dreaded letters: I.O.U.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “What the hell was that?” My shrill voice had Thom drawing back in obvious discomfort.

  “I’d appreciate it if you watched your tone.” He stood up from his seat and headed towards the closet, already halfway towards bailing on me.

  “No. I don’t think so.” I jumped from my seat and cornered him. From this close, I could see the fear in his eyes. “Just tell me. I just need to know the truth. Is this something we can fix?”

  “I think we’re making a mistake. Well, I made the mistake. of involving you,” he said as he pulled on his jacket and adjusted the strap of his bag to lie across his chest.

  “You didn’t. We’re not. I can do this.” The rejection stung.

  “There is more going on than I first thought. It was wrong of me to force you into this.”

  “We’ll figure it out. Please don’t take this away from me. It’s the only thing I have left that means anything.” I couldn’t let him go. This is what I had to look forward to. A time where I could forget about all the things that were going wrong because I knew somewhere in the recesses of my mind that I was meant for this. Somehow, when I worked on a sigil, I intuited its shape, I could picture what it should look like in my mind’s eye and my hand automatically did the rest. He brushed his hand across his face.

  “I don’t know why I’m saying this,” I continued. “Hopefully, there is some part of you that actually cares what I’m feeling. Maybe somehow you really do know what this means to me. Even if I ask too many questions.”

  He laughed. “You want the truth then?” he asked.

  “Yes.” The way he looked at me I felt like my soul was bare before him. The lines on his face smoothed and I took a step back, knowing now I had a fighting chance of getting some answers out of him.

  “If what Ashtaroth says is the truth then the Dybbuk are the least of our worries. Someone has been making plans. The type of plans that change all the rules. And when the rules change, the game takes a dangerous turn.”

  “If it were possible to speak with a Dybbuk, maybe we could get some information from them?” I asked.

  “It’s worth a try.”

  “Then it’s settled. We’ll meet up tomorrow.” I walked back to the grimoire and handed it to Thom. “And don’t forget to lock this thing up.”

  “And what sort of plan might you be hatching?” He smiled.

  “I like it when you smile,” I said and felt my cheeks flush. “Um, yeah I have a Dybbuk who hangs outside my house. Maybe I can figure out a way to speak to it.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, it’s been sitting on my lawn since my accident.”

  “I meant about my smile.” He leaned towards me and tucked a strand of loose hair behind my ear. I was tempted to touch his face but knew better than to interrupt the moment. “It’s alright. I like yours too.”

  “Then does this mean I’m still on the case?”

  “I’m afraid so.” He sighed. “Gotta keep mum though. We don’t know who’s got eyes and ears about.”

  “Got it.” I was relieved and about to turn to pack up when Thom brushed his face past mine and whispered in my ear.

  “Have a good evening, Gemma.” His breath was like fire against the tender skin of my ear and neck. The heat trickled down and warmed me from within, down to my bones.

  “Bye,” I whispered back, using all my energy to keep me from melting into the floor.

  Ian was sitting on the concrete steps and playing a game on his phone that sent digitized beats out into the quiet cold air with every flick of his finger. I came up from behind and placed a hand on his shoulder. He turned and flashed me his baby blues.

  “Sorry I’m late,” I said.

  He stood, shoving his hands in his pockets. “No worries. You ready?”

  “More than ever.”

  “I don’t have a car, though, or anything. Is it cool if we walk?”

  “Definitely.” I laughed as we made our way do
wn the stairs and onto the street.

  He placed his arm around my shoulder and brought me closer to him. My arm went around his waist in an automatic response.

  I enjoyed our walk back to the empty lot huddled against Ian’s side and when we found ourselves back in front of the magical yew tree, I was a bit disappointed when he moved away from me. He placed his hand in the indentation that had been left in the ground and the tree responded as it did the previous time. Only this time, instead of a ram’s horn, the handle was an intricately carved goat’s foot, complete with cloven hoof made of solid gold.

  “That’s so cool.”

  “Maybe next time I’ll teach you how to use it,” Ian said.

  “Really?”

  “Sure.”

  He pushed on the handle and held the door open for me. I stepped through into the darkness and felt him lace his fingers with mine as the door shut behind us.

  “Here we go,” he said. With those words, I heard the whoosh of wind as the force snapped our bodies through the tunnels. The world continued to spin until we came to a jerking halt, sending my stomach to the ground.

  “Is this a different room?” I asked, noticing the stark differences in the environment. Rolling dunes had been replaced by sheets of ice and jutting blue green crags of glaciers. The sky was whitewashed and dotted with thousands of blue stars that illuminated our surroundings.

  “Amazing isn’t it?” He set us down on a mound of snow that crunched beneath my feet. “This happens to be a different area. We took a different drift to get here. You’ve got to be careful though. Sometimes, someone decides to change up the scenery just for fun. You got to keep track of which door you call. Now, don’t move.”

  Ian began counting his steps as he carefully paced across the frozen lake. At eighteen, he dropped to his knees and placed the palm of his hand on the ice. He then stood up and brushed his hand together, sending an explosion of new flakes to the ground.

  “Okay, you can come down now,” he called out.

  I took caution with each step, stretching my arms to the side for balance. When I reached Ian, I saw the dark hole that was now in the ice.

  “Trust me. It’s not as bad as it looks but this portal doesn’t have a cable. We need to jump.”

  “It looks pretty bad to me.” My pulse sped up and my hands began to sweat.

  “You think too much,” he said, wrapping his arms around me and pulling us down through the abyss.

  Electric beats and a deep thrumming bass line filled the large room. Bodies were packed end to end in a primal undulating dance as multicolored strobe lights flashed on and off over the crowd. The tempo kicked up, sending everyone into a frenzy, arms in the air and jumping to the rhythmic pulses. I felt the vibrations surrounding me and was awestruck.

  Ian unzipped his jacket and I followed suit. He grabbed our things and shoved them onto a booth in the corner. Then without further delay, we were on the dance floor.

  He placed his hands firmly on my hips and we fell into the seductive rise and fall of the music. The last tendrils of confusion cleared and the constant weight dragging me down let up for the first time in months. I closed my eyes and reveled in the release. Ian moved to my back and rocked me back and forth until we moved as a single unit. I let my head lean back against him and looked up, taking notice of the catwalk full of observers looking down at us from their intimate perch.

  I turned back to face Ian and placed my arms around his neck. I let the energy of the room soak into me, filling me with its power as I swayed closer and closer to his body. He leaned down, touching his forehead to mine and let his intense gaze capture my attention.

  The world fell away and we were all that was left. He placed his lips on mine as I ran my fingers through his hair and squeezed, deepening the kiss. After what felt like hours, we broke apart. Ian led me past the growing throngs of people and up the staircase that led to the balconies overlooking the club.

  “What do you think?” he said as the bass dropped, leaving a lull long enough to speak.

  “This is beyond,” I answered, leaning against the wall, away from the well-dressed people who mingled about, holding drinks and staring at the crowd below them.

  The music picked right back up and Ian drew closer. Time slipped away and we danced in slow motion in our own private world while the music around us throbbed.

  Ian was the first to break the spell. “We should get going,” he said.

  “Why?” I groaned, relishing the haze I was caught up in and loathing the thought of going back to my life at home.

  “You shouldn’t stay here too long. It’ll be night time soon.” He rubbed the underside of my chin with his finger. “We can come back any time. Just say the word.”

  “Promise?”

  “Promise.” He smiled.

  We went back down to grab our things and Ian ushered me through a pair of doors leading to a room, empty but for

  a control panel filled with switches. He flicked one of them, turning the light beside it red.

  I furrowed my brow in question.

  “This is the elevator back home. Watch.”

  After a few more seconds, the light turned green and the doors slid open, revealing the dirt running path I used every day.

  “Trippy,” I said, walking out into the brisk gray evening.

  Ian followed and the elevator closed behind him, leaving no trace of its existence. “Race you.” He pulled at my sleeve and ran through the thicket of trees.

  “Hey, no fair.” Clutching my bag to my chest, I set off to catch him.

  He wove through the trees at an impressive speed, never once getting caught in the branches. When I got to my back yard, he was already leaning against the wooden beams of the patio, wearing a smirk.

  “You going to catch me or what?”

  “Count on it.” I raced towards him. He feigned left and I followed. At the last moment, he switched to his right and whirled passed me. My foot slipped on the slick grass. I threw my bag down and used my hands to push myself back up.

  “I’m waiting.” Ian teased from ten feet away. I ran at him with all the force I could muster only this time he didn’t move and we collided. Our bodies rolled down the hill until we finally came to a stop, with him on top of me. My breath was coming out in fast bursts and my heart was pounding out of my chest.

  I don’t think it’s from the exercise.

  I lay still, feeling Ian’s chest against mine. He ran one hand down the side of my body and this time I let him. The flood lamps came on and I groaned. “That must be my dad. He has awful timing.”

  “Don’t let him get to you.”

  “I don’t but he’s going to come out here and tear me a new one.”

  “Then we should go and get it over with.” He smacked a quick kiss on my lips.

  “You don’t have to stay and witness the dysfunction that my family has become.”

  “Come on.” He stood up and offered me his hand. We walked back up the lawn and onto the deck where my father was waiting and Ghosty was sitting in his usual spot.

  “It’s late,” he barked.

  “I know, Dad. Have you met Ian?”

  Could I deflect or what?

  “Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Pope.” Ian offered his hand.

  “Dr.” My dad answered, leaving Ian’s hand in the air and unwanted.

  “I was just walking Gemma back home. She got stuck late at school and I didn’t want her making the trip by herself.”

  “Thank you, Ian. I appreciate your concern, but I think it’s time you left.”

  “Sure. See you tomorrow, Gemma.” Ian took the hint and left but not without a wave to Ghosty.

  “What is your problem?” I said to my dad when we were inside.

  “I am tired of you breaking the rules, Gemma,” he said, slamming the glass door behind him so hard I thought it was going to shatter.

  “Relax, I’m fine. Ian walked me home.”

  “I saw you. You’re a slut, just
like your mother.” Spittle lined the edges of his mouth and that’s when I saw the blackness in his eyes. Panic filled my chest. I was living with one of these things now. With my coat still on, I headed to my room.

  “What I do is my business,” I yelled back at him, closing the door behind me and barring it with the pink upholstered lounge chair. I turned on the lights and dumped my stuff on top of my already junk-ridden desk.

  There was a series of loud bangs on my door, followed by silence.

  I listened as his dress shoes clicked against the hardwood floor towards the back of the house, where the master bedroom was. When I heard his door shut, I let out a breath and began peeling away the layers of damp clothing. The dirty laundry on the floor was starting to form a nice pile. After rummaging through the remainder of my clean clothes, I settled on a white flannel nightshirt. I stood in front mirror and started from the top button. When I reached the last one, I looked at my legs. My scar had disappeared.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Holy cow. Holy cow. Holy cow.

  Freaky. This can’t be real.

  I pulled up the hem of my shirt and lifted my leg up onto the dresser to get a closer look. The angry red lines and dents in the muscle were gone. G-O-N-E. Gone. I traced my trembling finger back and forth across my thigh and marveled at the smooth texture.

  Like nothing had ever happened.

  My head got fuzzy at the thought and I clutched the edge of the dresser, squeezing until my knuckles were white. I dropped to my knees as the breath went in and out of my lungs too quickly.

  Then I waited, huddled between layers of pillows and down comforters, scared out of mind of both my father and what was happening to me. Rational Gemma chided delirious Gemma and said that there was a reasonable explanation for everything.

  Different scenarios kept playing through my brain. Of my dad storming into my room with a butcher knife. Of the parasite within him leeching its way into my room through the cracks in the floorboards to choke the life out of me while I slept. My imagination got the best of me and kept my body frozen in place the entire night.