Demon at My Door

by Michelle A. Valentine

  Rick taps on my window and then opens my door. “You ready?”

  No.

  “Yeah, just getting my stuff,” I say as I hop out of the Focus.

  He twists his lips. “So…”

  I have no clue what he’s about to say. “So?”

  He gestures to my clothes. “Are you ready for this? I know this is a big change for you.”

  I sigh as I look down at my outfit and shrug. “I guess. What choice do I really have? I’m already here, plus my sister tossed most of my old ones.”

  He laughs. “Tell you what, we’re in this together—demon deal thing and new clothes alike. You already know I’m okay with kicking some ass over you, right? Someone gives you a hard time, just let me know.” He sticks out his right hand. “Deal?” I stare at his outstretched hand.

  Shaking hands is usually a no-no for me, but this is Rick. I trust him. It’s nice that I finally have someone to be there for me. “Deal.” I shake his hand.

  Our skin touches, his grip firm in mine. A static shock passes between our hands and I quickly jerk my hand back. “Damn.” I shake it to rid the left over tingles. “Did you feel that?” It felt oddly familiar, almost like—never mind, I’m thinking crazy. There’s no way that shock was the same as the little demons.

  He rubs his hands together and laughs like it was no big deal. “You shocked me.”

  My palm rubs against the cotton fabric of my skirt. “That was a little more than static electricity, Rick.”

  The grin on his face stretches. “I think you’re overestimating my electrifying personality.”

  I furrow my brow and shift my eyes to my open palm. Is it possible that I am overreacting? “You seriously didn’t feel a huge shock?”

  He laughs at me again, like I’m making a big joke. “Come on. We don’t want to be late for your big reveal day.”

  All morning long I see the stares and hear whispers as I walk around campus. Not everyone is receptive to my new look, but the one person who is—Taylor Gee—alarms me. She smiles and waves every time she sees me, like we are fast friends, which is messed up considering she’s the one who started all those rumors about me being crazy. She made my life a living hell back then. Why the hell does she want to be friends with me now?

  I shake my head and try to think about something else.

  The scene with Rick in the parking lot replays in my brain. Maybe, I’m being paranoid, but that jolt I received from his handshake this morning reminded me so much of the one I receive from the little sadist. Could everyone else be right? Maybe I am crazy. It’s not like Rick is a five year old who steals souls.

  My morning classes fly by without much incident, so I hope lunch follows the same pattern, A third of the students in the cafeteria ignore me, which is a good thing. I’m blending in. I’m no longer the freaky looking Emo chick who everyone thinks is mental.

  I head outside to the quad. Rick’s under the tree and stashes his book in his bag as I walk toward him.

  He grins and then speaks loud enough for others to hear. “Hey beautiful.”

  Such an outward display of affection, here, in the middle of the open courtyard, in front of everyone, causes my stomach to knot. But I kind of like it. The feeling of being admired is one a person should cherish. It’s something I’ve craved for so long, but I’ve only known him a week, and two dates doesn’t mean we’re on the pet name stage yet. We didn’t even kiss after our date Saturday night, merely a polite hug good night. He needs to slow down.

  “Hey,” I simply reply as I toss my bag to the ground and fold myself onto the ground next to him.

  “So? How’s the big change going?”

  I shrug. “Okay, I guess. I think I actually have a new BFF.”

  He tosses his head back slightly letting the sun skip through the leaves and shine on his face. I stare at him openly as I can’t help but notice how amazingly attractive he is. “And who is that?”

  “You’re admirer.” A grin stretches across my face. “Watch this.”

  My eyes scan in the jock table’s direction. I spot Taylor. Her attention zooms in as our eyes meet. I wave. Her unnaturally white teeth gleam from across the quad as she waves back.

  Never far from his minions, Stew takes in our little exchange—his eyes fixed on me while wearing a serious scowl—and my heart crushes. How could I ever fall for someone like him? He’s an asshole of epic proportion.

  The urge to stick my tongue out at Stew and flip him off surges through me, but I won’t give him the satisfaction of acknowledging his presence. Instead, I inch closer to Rick and turn my focus on him just to piss Stew off some more.

  “Wow.” Rick laughs. “Who knew clothes would make such a difference.”

  Stew still has his eyes on me. I know it’s wrong to use Rick like this. He’s going to get the wrong impression, but I don’t care, hurting Stew like he hurt me is all I care about.

  I kiss Rick’s cheek. “I don’t think it’s just because of the clothes.”

  Rick slowly licks his lips and gazes into my eyes. “Glad I can help,” he whispers as he reaches up and strokes my cheek. His touch is familiar, and for a second, I forget this is just a show for Stew’s benefit.

  My heart thunders in my ears, and I nervously bite my bottom lip. He leans in so close that I can feel his breath on my lips. Inching forward, I actually find I crave his kiss which surprises me after I’ve spent the past couple of days warning myself to take things slow with him. My motion halts when I feel a tickle on my right hand. This moment can’t be ruined by a stupid itch. I move my hand, and it lands on something slender and slimy. Instinctively, I pull away and jerk back from Rick. My eyes snap to the ground and my mouth gaps open. I jump to my feet like I have superpowers. A blood-curdling scream rips from my throat as I stare wide eyed.

  “Whoa!” Rick yells as he rolls away from the brown snake who has settled next to us. “Was not expecting that.”

  Our commotion causes heads in the quad to whip toward us. My Statistics professor, Monkey Man Miller, who happened to be walking by at that moment stops abruptly. “What’s going on over here?”

  Words won’t leave my tongue. My whole body shakes as the adrenaline pours through my veins. I just touched a snake for God’s sake.

  The professor stares at me, like I’m nuts. I still can’t bring myself to speak, so I lift a shaky finger and point at the coiled up snake in strike mode.

  Dr. Miller’s eyes flash with panic. He locks his gaze on the snake, and then he yells, “Everyone inside the building!” No one moves until he adds, “Now!”

  Students scamper inside. Everyone goes—everyone, but me and Rick. My legs won’t budge. I’m frozen in fear and still at a loss for words.

  Rick turns to me. “It’ll be okay. It’s just a little snake. They can’t hurt you, remember?”

  Dr. Miller rubs his chin and mumbles, “How am I going to get rid of this? Maybe I should call maintenance.”

  “I can do it.” Professor Miller and I stare at Rick with wide eyes. “I can get rid of it. I’ll take it over to that empty grass lot and let it loose so everyone can come back out.”

  The teacher grimaces. “Son, I don’t think it’s wise—”

  He cuts himself off when Rick swiftly picks the snake up by its head and holds it away from his body. The tail wiggles back and forth. Nausea rolls through me, and I fight the urge to pass out. This is no pet snake. It’s wild and dangerous. Rick could get really hurt if that thing bites him.

  With unfathomable grace, Rick runs out of the quad—snake in hand—and across the parking lot. He reaches the empty grass lot and kneels down. Rick releases the slimy creature back into the wild, safe—like he’s protecting it from the student body instead of the other way around.

  Within the seconds, he’s back in the quad, which most of the people have repopulated. Rick dons a triumphant smile as he looks at me.

  “Thank you, Mr. Steele,” Monkey Man says.

  “No problem. I had to.” Rick giv
es me a sad smile. “Nat hates snakes.”

  “Whatever.” Professor Miller scratches his head and mumbles to himself before heading back into the building.

  No guy has ever tried to prove they would protect me against anything like Rick has. In only the short time I’ve known him, he’s saved me twice. A grin threatens to expose how flattered I am by one little statement. Our eyes meet, and his travel down to my lips, causing me to lick them. It feels like he wants to kiss me. I mean, really kiss me. Intensity flows between us, like there’s an invisible rope pulling us together. My face heats up, reddening my cheeks, giving my feelings away.

  “Rick?” Taylor calls as she makes her way over. “That was amazing. How could you stand touching that thing?”

  Her presence totally changes the vibe between Rick and me. He directs all of his attention to her and explains how snakes are merely misunderstood creatures. Whatever. They are just as bad as people think—possibly even worse: snakes and evil go hand and hand, especially when Rick refers to them as Lucifer, God’s archenemy.

  “Well I think you’re really brave.” Taylor swoons.

  Gag.

  Taking Stew away from me isn’t enough? She has to go after Rick now, too?

  All that waving crap earlier wasn’t for my benefit. I see that now. Taylor is so fake.

  "It was nothing, really, just looking out for my girl here.” He wraps his arm around me and gives me a little squeeze.

  Her smile widens. “Oh, Nat. You have such an awesome boyfriend.”

  “He’s not my boyfriend.” I answer a little too quickly and instantly regret it.

  Rick’s smile fades as Taylor raises an eyebrow. “No? Oh. I thought—”

  Quickly, I try to recover. I didn’t mean to hurt Rick’s feeling. “I mean, not like officially, or anything.”

  Taylor shrugs. “Okay. Whatever. So anyway, I’m having a party Saturday night—you two should come.”

  Before I have chance to reply, Rick answers,“Sounds good.”

  “Great.” Taylor smiles. “See you there. Natalie, you know where my sorority is, right?”

  I nod, and she turns on her heel and heads back to where she came from.

  Taylor takes her throne next to Stew, no doubt to fill everyone in about Rick’s triumphant bravery. Stew seems unimpressed as he picks at the fray on the bottom of his tee shirt. He hasn’t made any attempts to speak to me since we agreed to meet at Morris’s party. Probably for the best. I can’t imagine what I’d even say to him. There would most definitely be a lot of cussing involved.

  “Can I walk you to your next class? I want to tell you about some of the possibilities I found on the internet about saving your soul.” Rick breaks me out of my delusion of all the evil things I’d call Stew, given the opportunity.

  His arm is still draped around my shoulders. It’s nice he’s trying to help me, but he hasn’t figured out the internet doesn’t have any real legit information about demons yet. I smile at him and will pretend to be interested in all the possible angels he found just to appease him. “Sure.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Dr. Fletcher enters the room, and her mouth draws into a lopsided grin. “Natalie, you look beautiful.”

  I knew she’d notice.

  “Thanks.” There’s no way I’ll tell her why I made the change. I don’t want to go into detail about my social life with her, yet.

  The little doctor smiles. “Does this new look mean you’re working on your outlook on life and death?”

  I shrug. “A little, I guess.”

  She’s pleased with herself. I know when I leave she’ll pat herself on the back and tell her office staff about how much she’s helping me.

  Dr. Fletcher pulls my chart out of her desk drawer and sits in front of me. “So, what would you like to discuss today, Natalie?”

  “Well…I, um.” I stumble over my words, not sure where to begin because I really hate being here. The good doctor puts her hand on my arm.

  A vibration rips through my bones.

  Oh God. He’s here. Either Dr. Fletcher or me is about to die. My pulse quickens, and tears pool in my eyes. I’m not ready for this. I mean, I don’t want it to be me. The doctor isn’t exactly my friend, but she’s got a family. I focus my energy on the photo in front of me. Bile rises in my throat. The guy in the picture is familiar, very familiar.

  It’s Rick. Lilim is too young to be his mother, but still she’s obviously very close to him.

  My leg bounces uncontrollably as I try not to puke. I have to save her. Warn her somehow. He’s my friend. I have to break my personal rule about not interfering because I can’t allow that little monster to take away someone Rick loves.

  The vibration intensifies, much thicker than I’ve ever felt before. My brain rattles in my skull, but I push through it and yell as loud as I can. “Lilim, you have to run!”

  “So, it’s true.” She gasps and jerks her hand away from me and the noise stops instantly.

  What the hell?

  My breaths are rapid, and I tremble all over like I’m sprinting a mile. I choke out, “He’s coming for you.”

  Dr. Fletcher sits back in her chair and has regained her composure. “Who’s coming for me, Natalie?”

  My palm rubs my forehead. Of course she’s calm. She didn’t hear anything, but she did say ‘it’s true’, which makes me think she believes me. “I’ve never stopped him from killing someone before, but I can’t let him take you.” I tip my head in the direction of her family photo. “Rick’s my friend.”

  Her eyebrows lift. Instead of being fearful for her life, she looks at me with pity. “No one is out to get me, Natalie. Trust me. I’m not going anywhere.” She flips through my chart and then pulls out a prescription pad from the pocket of her white lab coat. “How do you feel about medications?”

  My scalp itches, and I dig at the crown of my head. At this point I’m desperate for any help I can get when it comes to the demon, but medications aren’t going to fix me. “I’m not really into taking medications.”

  She gives me a smile that’s full of sympathy. “I think medications will work wonders for you. They can help combat all that fear you have inside your brain.”

  “Fear?” I echo her words.

  The pen in her hand taps the prescription pad. “You want to be normal, don’t you? Let me give you a prescription to help with that. Maybe, that demon will be out of your life once and for all.”

  I finally nod, and my stomach rolls. God knows how much I wish that little beast would just disappear. I take the prescription from her just to let her feel helpful, but I don’t intend on using it.

  Another thought flits through my mind as she writes out the medication order. “You won’t tell Rick about this will you? I don’t like for people to know what happens when the demon comes.”

  She smiles. “Of course not. I won’t tell my…nephew, anything about this. Everything in my office remains confidential, including that you even see me to begin with. I never tell him about any of my patients. Especially one he has a special bond with. He talks about you often, you know.”

  That’s a relief. At least Rick won’t know who my shrink is. That would be all kinds of embarrassing.

  I say my goodbye’s to Dr. Fletcher and make an appointment with her secretary on the way out.

  As I reach into my purse to put my appointment card away, I find Madame Zoë’s business card. I’d forgotten about her with everything that has been going on in my life. Maybe she’ll give me some answers about my current demon situation. She may know a way to save my soul if she’s a real psychic and not one of those con-artist fakes. I’ve tried every other form of research about killing demons, might as well try a new method.

  The girl at the mall said no appointment is needed, and it’s on my way home. I crank my Focus alive and pull onto the main drag of Grove City. Four blocks down from Dr. Fletcher’s office, I pull onto Columbus Street, and start counting house numbers—looking for 996.

  A
fter passing it a couple times, I pull up to the address. The numbers are kind of old and have lost a couple of nails, so they read 666. Creepy. The little blue house doesn’t show any sign that a fortuneteller lives here or that anything weird goes on inside. The house is kind of cute, actually, with its white picket fence and neatly trimmed lawn.

  When I open my door, I hesitate. Maybe I’m in the wrong spot. But what the hell, I’m already here, might as well go check it out. The gate attached to the fence groans under my hands as I undo the latch. Chills spread through my body and goose bumps erupt all over my arms. My footsteps thud, even though I try to be quiet, as I step up on the tiny concrete landing in front of the door. That’s when I see it, a handwritten note that reads: Madame Zoe’s, always open.

  She must live here, too.

  I swallow, reach for the lion head knocker adorning the entrance, and knock with three quick raps. For some reason, I kind of expect the door to open on its own after I finish the last knock, like they do in scary movies. I roll my eyes. I’m thinking crazy.

  It takes a couple seconds before I hear a little frail voice call to me from the other side of the door. “Comin’.”

  She must be pretty old, because it takes her a good minute to make it to the door. The dead bolt clicks, and then she opens it. The door remains chained, so it doesn’t open very wide. I gasp a little when she pokes her face between the cracks. Her eyes are milky white. The color they once may have had is lost in a cloudy haze. The odd contrast of such white eyes set in deep brown skin causes my skin to crawl. It’s probably a medical condition or something, but the effect is freaky.

  At first, I almost turn around and run off her stoop, but she’s just a little old blind lady with some kind of exotic looking bird on her shoulder. It’s not like she can hurt me or anything.

  “Come child. Don’t be scared. I know what you seek.” Her deep Southern drawl startles me. She’s definitely not from here in Ohio.

  Curious as to how she knows what I want, I start to ask that very question, but I’m too late. She shuts the door in my face.

  Okay. I guess, no reading today. As I turn, the door opens. She emerges and beckons me inside.