A blood bubble popped inside the bowl. Then another and another until it boiled. The metal shelves began to shake. Big aluminum cans of food bounced to the edges. Large white bags of flour shifted and slid to the ground.
“What’s happening?” Agatha shouted.
“It’s working.” I almost couldn’t believe it. Who needed magic when you had virgin blood? That was some fantastic stuff. “Keep going!”
The louder we chanted, the more the kitchen rattled. Black smoke materialized up from the floor and then vanished when it drew too close to us and my family crest, only to reappear farther away. It billowed and thickened until it blocked everything but the three of us. Brimstone seeped into my nose, the smell of home, and I breathed it all in.
“Not Miss Molly, Not Miss Molly, Not Miss Molly,” we continued.
Zane’s blood vanished from the bowl as if sucked away into the ether. Something popped, and in the next moment, Blade stood in front of me, panting and holding a bloody machete at his right side. His chest was naked since I still had his vest, and he must’ve forgotten his emo eyeliner, which made him look a lot softer somehow.
He pinned me with an irritated look. “Oh, princess. You’ve really done it now.”
Blade’s eyes burned bright red, shooting a chill through my bones. No wonder we frightened humans so much.
“Blade,” I said, forcing my voice steady. “We didn’t summon you.”
“Really?” He wiped the blade of his machete onto his leather pants, then placed the weapon back on his belt. “Is that why you’re doing a summoning spell while every single door leading inside this building is propped wide open? So no one would come?”
“The…doors?” A sinking feeling swallowed my insides. I shot toward my backpack in the corner. My keys were still there, but Elia must’ve slipped one off the ring, unlocked the doors, and propped them open. But why?
As I leveled my gaze with Blade’s, my fingers brushed something scorching hot at the bottom of my bag. I jerked my fingers back with a yelp.
“You all right?” Zane called from the prep station.
Blade crossed toward me and sank to his knees, gripping my wrist to peer at my fingertips. Angry red welts marked my skin.
“Shit. A bloodstone,” he said through clenched teeth.
I squeezed my eyes closed at the pain. Well, this wasn’t good at all.
“A what?” Agatha asked.
“Bloodstones can be enchanted to lead demons to a certain location…or person like a magical GPS,” I said. “No summoning required.”
And they could be bought—or stolen—from any rock and mineral store that happened to carry them, including Down to Earth Rocks & Minerals on Main Street. But they had to be planted on that person or place, and they were intended to scorch the person they were enchanted for.
Me, in this case.
“We need to get every single door to this place closed,” Blade growled. “The demons still think you have the key to the Gates of Hell.”
I snapped open my eyes, the burning pain in my fingertips forgotten. “What about my mom?”
Blade scooped up my backpack, his eyes wide and blazing. “Have you not heard one word I’ve said to you? Are you not at all concerned that you’re in danger?”
“My mom, Blade.”
“I have no idea where she is. Nobody has seen a trace of her.” He glanced at the double doors that led out of the kitchen, his jaw set in grim determination. “Not even your grandparents.”
It didn’t mean anything. She could be fine. She would be found when she felt it was safe enough to let herself be. Still, my throat burned with worry.
“I was aware of the risks with the summoning.” I waved my hand around the room, not able to see it through the onslaught of tears, as if that could somehow explain everything. I just wanted Miss Molly back, safe and normal, for everything to go back to safe and normal.
Blade stalked toward the doors, my backpack hitched over one shoulder, and looked back. “You could have been great, you know,” he said, his voice softer than I’d ever heard it.
“Yeah, well, I’m not dead.” The words ‘could have’ had never frozen me with such insecurity, though. “Don’t give up on me yet. I will be great. Just maybe not Hell’s definition of the word.”
He stared for a moment longer, then gave a curt nod, his mouth pinched tight. “Now’s your chance to prove yourself.” He opened the door and peered out. “Because demons are here.”
22
“But we’ll be okay, right, HP?” Agatha asked as soon as Blade had pushed through the door. She reached up under her rainbow wig and yanked. “Because of your family crest?”
Against a whole army of escaped demons? I had no idea. I’d only wanted to help Miss Molly, and was hoping for just a few extra demons from the summoning. Not the entire population of Hell.
I was still decked out in cats and rhinestones, but my fingertips were swollen with black and red flecks from the bloodstone. I’d been marked as the target, the one thought to have the key to the Gates of Hell.
“Just…keep your holy water, wine, and salt at the ready,” I said.
She held hers up. “He’s not leaving us, is he? Blade?”
I winced at the tremble in her voice. “He would never leave a battle. He’s as badass as it gets.”
That might’ve been an eye-roll worthy thing to say, but it was true. Blade had my back. He always had.
Zane jerked his thumb toward the kitchen door. “Is that really the best kind of company Hell has to offer? If so, I need to get myself back into church.”
“I’ll join you,” Agatha whispered. “No question about that.”
I looked at my friends with the stern expression Mauve used to wear when things got serious. “I need you to go back to the dorm and let me handle this.”
“No. No way.” Agatha placed her hands on her hips. “We’re in this together.”
I gritted my teeth. “This is dangerous. I’ve been marked by a bloodstone, and I can’t risk you two getting hurt. Besides, I need someone to keep the others in the school safe.”
Zane shook his head. “Not happening.”
Agatha pointed at her new wig. “I got this to be a hardcore badass, remember? I can’t do that and go hide at the same time.”
“But I’m the one the demons are after.”
“We’re not leaving you alone.” Zane gave me an equally stern look and shoved his glasses up his nose.
We didn’t have time to argue about this.
“Fine. Then stay behind me. And bring the soap containers.” On our way toward the doors, I stopped at a drawer marked Oven Mitts and threw one over my hand to cover the bloodstone welts so no demons could see their target. The mitts weren’t practical for a battle, but they would have to do.
Then we swept into the hallway. Black and gray smoke billowed up the walls, the demonic kind, not the fiery kind. Hellfire danced along the ceiling. An orange-red glow permeated the hallway, reminding me of the horizons of Hell. Ash and cinder peeled from the wallpaper and floated to the floor. The smell of brimstone saturated every crack and corner.
“Well.” Agatha coughed and blinked into the hallway. “This is new.”
Zane’s hand tightened around his crutch. “This is not okay.”
We crouched as if we were expecting a zombie killer clown to jump out and stab us in our throats. But the hallway was empty, quiet except for the crackling Hellfire, which was somehow even worse than a stabby clown.
The soft metal clink of Zane’s crutch, as well as the slight crunch of salt he’d dipped the end into, mixed with the sound of our tiptoed steps as we slunk farther along.
With Agatha’s hands full of the plastic bag of soap containers and her flasks, she couldn’t yank at her hair. Somehow, that was a small comfort in this nightmare situation.
“I hope we don’t die,” she whispered.
“That’d be nice,” Zane muttered.
“I want to play softball. Like pro
fessionally.” She stopped and stared at us with wide eyes. “I just thought you should know that now in case things go south and you need decoration ideas for my funeral.”
“That won’t be necessary,” I hissed.
Zane pushed his lips together, then blurted, “Basketball. And comic books. And sharpened drawing pencils.”
“Noted,” I said. “Now hush.”
The idea of their deaths lodged a knot in my throat while simultaneously strengthening my resolve to win. No one would die tonight, least of all my best friends. I would make sure of it. I gazed at them, fueling as much confidence into my face as I could muster, and walked onward. When they followed, their pace matching mine, I didn’t hear any more talk of funeral planning.
We needed to create a salt line boundary the demons couldn’t cross, so we headed toward the girls’ dorm first. I inched open the door to see if everyone was okay. Mrs. Crenshaw stood just inside. I yelped, jumping back. Even at this late hour, she still wore her smart pantsuit. The whites of her eyes blazed, and her hand crushed over her mouth. She held a hammer up in her other hand, ready to strike.
“Kasey,” she breathed, dropping her trembling hand. “Get in here. There’s something out there.”
“Sorry, Mrs. Crenshaw. I can’t, but I’ll protect you.” Behind me, Agatha and Zane poured salt in a half circle around the door.
“I don’t need you protecting me,” she said. “You’re still one of my kids, not the other way around.”
I smiled. She was so much like Mauve in many ways.
“I won’t even begin to tell you what I thought I saw. This is insanity, a nightmare hallucination.” She took a golden cross out from beneath her pantsuit jacket and top and kissed it. “Maybe I’m the one who needs to pee in a cup.”
I stared at her cross, something tugging at my mind but I couldn’t pinpoint what. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Crenshaw. Stay here. Aggie, Zane, and I got this. We’ll protect the boys’ dorm next.” I shut the door before she could argue.
Halfway down the hallway, the overhead lights flickered and somewhere in the building, several doors slammed shut. Agatha’s steps faltered, but her chin tipped up with determination. Zane moved with the ease of some predator bird, even with his crutch.
I took in a deep breath of brimstone, wishing my friends would go back to the dorms, but I knew they would refuse. They were too brave to back down, no matter the personal risk. They inspired me to keep going, and it made my chest swell with the knowledge that I was lucky to have them by my side.
Movement blurred above my head. Someone was there, scurrying across the ceiling, but I couldn’t see much because of the smoke and Hellish flames.
I took a few steps closer, waved my hands through the air, and squinted for a better look. There. Draped in shadow and clinging to the ceiling with only the tips of her fingers and toes was Teach, her thumb cymbals warped to her knuckles in melted bronze. Her tongue flicked out, long, forked, and black.
She smiled, revealing black teeth and sludgy gums. Fissures of red light broke across her face. A lava-like substance bubbled inside the cracks, and her eyes turned black and stony. An unseen wind whipped her hair around her face. Sparks like red lightning encircled her, crackling the air and buzzing down my skin with the feel of static cling.
Agatha screamed.
Zane stumbled backward.
Teach held something in her fists, and she released it. Small bloodstones rained down on top of us. Agatha and Zane ducked, but I froze as horrid pain ignited everywhere the stones skipped down my body. Putting even more targets on me. Marking my exact location inside the school through demonic GPS.
“Kasey!” Zane lunged to my side.
Teach hissed at me, then skittered across the ceiling into the puffs of gray smoke.
Agatha and Zane reached for me, but I shrank away from their touch, my skin on fire. My eyes filled with tears, but I swiped them away with a fist. I dropped the oven mitt to the ground since there was no sense in hiding anymore. If the demons wanted me so bad, then let them find me.
Zane seemed to read my expression because he crutched ahead, then looked over his shoulder at us. “Ready?”
I gave a sharp nod and limped after him and Agatha, my bloodstone wounds howling with every step.
Around the next corner, I ran right into Mikey even though he hadn’t been standing there a second before. I bounced off him with a yelp. My heart fought to break through my chest. He stood between me and Agatha and Zane until the two of them slowly circled around to stand next to me.
Mikey tilted his head toward Agatha, and the lights and fire blinked, strobing across his mirrored sunglasses and the olive planes of his face. The orange flames dancing behind him lit up the orange streaks down his button-up shirt and his Cheeto-d fingertips in neon.
“The wig doesn’t change anything about you, Agatha,” he said in a two-tonal, singsong voice. “Hell, if I were your mother, I would have killed myself too.”
My fingers curled into fists. Zane’s nostrils flared.
Mikey grinned. “It was probably the happiest moment of her life.”
“You don’t get to talk to Aggie,” I said through gritted teeth.
Zane skipped past warnings and lunged at him. Mikey dodged out of the way, closer to me.
“Princess. Yummy.” He picked me up around my waist and mashed his mouth to mine, his tongue searching, his breath like brimstone.
I shoved against his chest, but he was stronger and much more demon-possessed than I was. The power in his arms locked mine to my sides. My hands flapped uselessly around my pockets for the flasks.
A snarl and a flash of movement. The next second, Mikey flew into the altered poster on the wall that read Seize the Throat. His sunglasses crashed to the floor before he did, revealing black, empty eyes.
Zane aimed the tip of his crutch at him, his face twisted into a murderous scowl. “Stay away from her.”
“You can’t make me.” He sniffed the air. “She smells so good, tastes so good.” His inky black eyes aimed toward me. “And she’s going to tell me where that key is.”
Agatha readied her holy wine, her shoulders squared, her expression calm. “You’re a goddamn fucktrumpet, you know that, Mikey?”
Mikey groaned then launched himself at Zane. Zane sidestepped and jammed his crutch into the small of Mikey’s back. The salted and holy-watered tip went right through his shirt, burning the fabric away and melting into his flesh. Mikey reared his head back and let out a scream in a strange mix of his voice and a demon’s wail. Then he crumbled to the ground.
Agatha kicked him over, swiped Zane’s crutch from him, then slammed the end of it into Mikey’s side.
Mikey screamed again, so loud the lights flickered. His face alternated in time with the lights, from the fleshless, smoky demon possessing him, to a terrified boy.
Agatha lifted the crutch, about to drive the tip home again, her arm trembling.
I flashed out my arm and caught her. “It’s not him, Aggie. Remember that.”
She breathed a half sob, half pained moan that broke my heart.
“What do we do with him?” Zane asked, prying his crutch away from Agatha.
Good question. We needed to get him out of the hallway so we wouldn’t leave a trail of dispatched demons and their flesh suits behind us. Without another thought, I kneeled and elbowed Mikey in the face. Pain exploded down my elbow.
Agatha gasped.
Blood gushed from his nose, and he passed out.
“Help me with him?” Despite the pain ripping through my bloodstone welts, I hefted him up, with the help of Zane and Agatha.
Mikey’s body dragged along the floor like a bloodied mop. Now, what to do with him?
Zane pointed down the hallway. “Supply closet. Come on.”
We grunted our way there, past a chained-shut door to another hallway. Had the chains been Blade’s doing?
Once inside the closet, Zane turned on the light, and we plopped Mikey down int
o a broken plastic chair. Agatha helped me bind his ankles and wrists with some spare rope. We caught our breath for a moment while I studied the back of Zane. He had short, orange hairs all over his inside-out shirt. Cat hair.
“Zane, have you seen a cat around school lately?” I asked.
He glanced over his shoulder, his gaze guarded. “Yeah… It—”
The entire closet jerked and swayed as if the school floated on a chaotic ocean. I shot my arms out, trying to maintain my balance.
Zane crashed against the wall. “What the hell was that?”
I glanced out the window of the closet. What the Hell, indeed. The hall shifted underneath my feet, the colors around me blotting out, turning into various shades of smoky gray. My stomach lurched.
Footsteps echoed outside the door, growing louder with every second. A hundred voices began to mutter and whisper.
I ducked down. Someone tugged off the closet light.
Brimstone wafted underneath the door. The lights and flames flickered outside.
We couldn’t stay locked in here forever. Besides, Mikey would eventually wake up, and the whole school was still in danger.
I dared a peek through the circular window. It framed someone at the other end of the hallway. Someone familiar with a baggy, tan sweatshirt and Mom jeans. Not Miss Molly faced away from us, toward the doors, her head tilted to the side as if wondering who had shut and chained them.
Our summoning spell really had brought her to us.
If we were quiet, we could sneak up behind her and…what? Throw what little holy wine we had left at her and hope for the best? No, we needed to tie her up, too, but I was pretty sure she’d notice if we tried. We needed to somehow corner her where she wouldn’t see us coming, and I didn’t suppose that would happen from inside this closet.
By the glow of the strobing lights outside the door, I caught Agatha’s eye and pointed to a nearby coil of rope on a shelf. She took it. Using exaggerated hand gestures, I explained what I wanted them to do—go right down the hallway and around the inside of the building while I snuck up behind Not Miss Molly. From their blank stares and slow nods, they probably thought I’d tried to summon another demon instead of explaining myself. I waved for them to follow, and they seemed to get on board with that okay.
Daring the Devil (Reigning Hell Book 1) Page 17
