A Demon Made Me Do It

by Penelope King

  I sigh and brush them away, annoyed with myself. This is what happens when I get distracted—I get sloppy. Their attack had caught me off guard. Fortunately, I was able to rip out their power sources and reduce them all to dust, but not before freaking out a whole throng of witnesses. Not exactly how I planned my night to go. But it’s hard to stay focused when I’m worried.

  Where is Kieron? Why hasn’t he returned by now?

  As the familiar blackness creeps in around me, my last conscious thought is that I’ll never see him again. And I gave up my only opportunity to fix my broken soul for nothing.

  Chapter 2. Liora

  Aww, man, she did it again.

  My head spins as I struggle to sit up, and I wrap the blanket around my shivering, aching body. “Tattie?”

  The moment the weak cry leaves my mouth I notice the pink-tinged water concoction beside my bed. Thank you, Tat, I silently praise my guardian. I reach over and eagerly gulp it down, grateful not to have to suffer the consequences of another one of Lucky’s late-night drinking binges.

  As I empty the glass, my body eases back to normal and my mind clears. Instantly, my thoughts return to him.

  Kieron.

  My heart brightens, but my mouth falls into a frown. Will today be the day he comes back? As much as I desperately hope so, a bigger part of me feels I’m setting myself up for more disappointment. If Kieron doesn’t come back to me today, then this will be day sixty-three of his absence. Sixty-three long, painfully lonely, confusing, and heart-wrenching days. It feels like sixty-three years.

  “Good morning, Liora dear. How did you sleep?” Tatiana greets me as I amble out for breakfast. I ignore the plate of blueberry pancakes she’s set out and head straight for the pot of freshly-brewed coffee. Although her remedy worked wonders, as usual, my stomach is still uncomfortably clenched at the knowledge that Kieron is not outside my front door waiting for me.

  “Fine,” I mumble and sip the piping hot beverage. There’s been an uneasy truce between me and my demon half lately, and I know Tatiana is grateful for this. I’d hate to burden her with any more of my problems.

  I force myself to go through the morning routine one step at a time, like everything else these days. The thought of facing a whole day without seeing Kieron is downright unbearable, so I just concentrate on one minute at a time. After a quick shower and a lazy brush through my long hair, I give Tatiana a kiss goodbye and head out. I hate that I can’t stop from automatically glancing around to see if by any miracle, Kieron and his shiny black truck is out front waiting for me.

  Nothing.

  Of course not. Why should today be any different than yesterday? Or the day before? Or the day before that?

  By now I should know better than to expect miracles, but I can’t stop the rush of disappointment that floods my heart.

  Where is he?

  I stroll through the woods, wondering, as I do every day, just what is taking him so long to return. The last time I saw him, I told him I loved him. The last thing he whispered in my ear as he leaned in to give me my final kiss was that he loved me, too.

  So where is he?

  The bitter morning air slaps across my face, and I shove my frozen hands into my jacket pocket. I wish it would get colder…so cold it would numb my entire body, and I wouldn’t have to feel this aching abandonment any longer.

  And that is the truth I have to face, no matter how painful. Kieron has abandoned me. He’s abandoned us. Can’t say I really blame him, though. One doesn’t have to be Dr. Phil to see why Kieron would get the hell out of Dodge and as far away from me as possible. Who in their right mind would want to be with me, anyway? A broken Dark-angel with a fractured soul. I don’t get to love. Why can’t I get this through my thick skull?

  Maybe it’s because of Lucky. Maybe she’s still hanging on to the delusion that he’s coming back for us. She’ll just have to find someone else, and hopefully soon. Maybe there’s another demion out there that will turn her on.

  Not for me, though. I’m done. Of course, I’ve met other demions since becoming human, and I hated every single one of them. They’re nothing but evil pretenders hiding beneath their human façades like lying little cowards.

  But Kieron…he wasn’t like them. He seemed so real…so pure…so loving. I shake my head. Just another evil pretender.

  I have to find something…anything…to fill this aching void left in my soul. But what? I only have one sort-of friend, Corrine. No one else likes me, or even really talks to me if they don’t have to. I’ve turned down social invitations for so long they never come my way anymore.

  When I had Kieron— even just knowing he was nearby—everything seemed better somehow. With him, my life had become not just tolerable, but actually pleasurable. More pleasurable than I’d ever dreamed possible.

  But now it feels worse…so much worse. The poet Tennyson famously wrote, “It's better to have loved and lost, than to have never loved at all.” But he was so totally full of crap. It’s way better when you don’t know what you’re missing, or constantly tortured with the memory of how good it once was.

  I sigh and kick some rocks out of my path as I trudge forward and resign myself to the fact that I’ll never be able to enjoy that part of my life ever again.

  I force myself not to look around the parking lot as I arrive at Dove Creek High School. Thankfully, I spot Corrine by the entrance and run to greet her, grateful for the distraction.

  “Hey, Liora. So Kieron’s still not back yet, huh?” she asks.

  I shrug and put my head down. Corrine doesn’t know the truth about him, that he’s half-demon just like I am. Of course, she doesn’t know the truth about me, either. If she did, there’d go my one and only friend.

  “Nah, I guess he’s still away visiting his relatives.”

  We head down the hall toward our lockers. Corrine chats in my ear, but I don’t hear what she’s saying. I just concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other, and try to remember my locker combination.

  My eyes are focusing on the little dial when a sudden chill runs up my spine, and my heart takes an uneven jump. Woozy, I suck in my breath and lean against the locker.

  “What’s wrong?” Corrine asks, concerned.

  I shut my eyes and shake my lowered head. “Nothing,” I mumble a few moments later. “Just got dizzy for a second. I’m fine.”

  “You sure? You look kinda pale—” She grabs my arm. “Wow, who are they?”

  An eerie sense of unexplainable foreboding has crept over me, and for a second I’m afraid to move.

  “Liora, look,” Corinne hisses, spinning my body around.

  I open my eyes and am somewhat surprised to see a boy and a girl…obviously brother and sister. Both are tall and blonde, with tan complexions and light-blue eyes.

  I stare at them, wondering why I feel an odd sense of déjà vu. Like maybe I know them from somewhere, or should know them.

  But they’re obviously new here. And that in itself is attention-worthy. It’s rare that new people actually move to this part of Virginia, a small backwoods mining community just east of the Appalachians. Most people here are lifers. The only new person to arrive in all the time I’ve been going to school here was Kieron, and even his arrival wasn’t exactly what one would call ‘natural’. In fact, he’d come here to kill me. Just another reason why I should forget about him once and for all.

  “Wow, who do you think they are? I wonder what his deal is.” Corrine whispers, pulling me closer. It’s only then I notice the thick, jagged scar curving from the tall boy’s forehead, around his cheekbone, and down the right side of his neck.

  “I don’t know,” I whisper back, trying hard not to stare. On the one hand I desperately want to feast my eyes upon these strange newcomers, but, at the same time, I’m fearful they might look back and notice me.

  “And look at the girl…” Corrine murmurs. Several other students are checking them out, too, but these strangers aren’t causing half the st
ir Kieron had when he first graced the halls with his presence. With him, everyone stared and gaped in awe, like he was some sort of celebrity or something. It was pathetic, really. But with these two, people glance over, some smile inquisitively and then return to their normal activities.

  Despite the brisk weather, the girl is wearing a light-yellow tank top as if it’s a warm spring day. But that’s not what draws my attention; I can’t stop staring at her arms, covered with wicked, shiny gashes. Between the vicious scars covering her, and the ones on her brother’s face, they look like they’d been through a meat grinder. I glance at Corrine who is just as fixated as I am.

  “Stop staring, it’s rude.” I turn back to my locker and grab my books.

  “Fine. We gotta go anyways. We’re gonna be late.” Corrine slams her locker shut.

  I give a quick look over my shoulder at the mysterious boy and girl before heading down the hallway, and try to ignore the icy chills still clenching my spine.

  I’m reading Kieron’s poetry book, tucked inside my Shakespeare reader, when the classroom door opens. Another bout of shivers runs up my back, and I feel as if someone has dumped a bucket of ice water on me. Great. On top of everything else now I’m getting sick. Just what I need. I look up and see the blond boy standing in the doorway, gazing around the room. I feel dizzy again and lower my head.

  The achy wooziness creeps through my body and I nestle my face in my arms, taking several deep breaths. Maybe Tatiana’s remedy is wearing off, or maybe Lucky ingested something a little stronger than just “alcohol” last night. I wouldn’t put it past her.

  I concentrate on my breathing and clearing my throbbing head, and totally ignore what Mr. Sodenberg is saying. I’m sure he’s just giving the “let’s all welcome the new student rah-rah-rah” speech.

  Luckily, a few moments after the sick feeling floods me, it passes. I slowly raise my head, but keep my eyes closed as the chill has now moved to my face. I finally open them and am met with a pair of cornflower blue eyes staring back at me.

  “Hi, mind if I sit here?” the scarred, blond boy asks pointing to the seat beside me.

  You have got to be kidding me.

  “Someone already sits there,” I say through clenched teeth and glance away.

  “I apologize for that, but it’s the only spot open in the room. Perhaps it’d be okay just for today until we can work something else out?” I’m staring straight ahead, unable to look at him, but I plainly hear the smile in his voice.

  Since I don’t respond, he takes my silence for permission and sits down. I glower inwardly. It’s not like I can tell him not to sit there. It’s not as if I own the classroom and I’m the boss of all the chairs. And it’s not like Kieron is here to lay claim to his seat…and to his place beside me.

  But there’s no way I’m enduring sitting here a whole hour feeling sick and with this rude, inconsiderate jerk posed beside me. Just as I’m about to grab my books and leave—damn the consequences—I start feeling comfortable again. Relaxed. Good even. I let out a long sigh and return to my poetry.

  But I feel his eyes on me, like tiny pins jabbing at my skin, pulling at my attention. I peek up and see him staring at me with overt interest. I give him my best scowl and return to my reading. “Stare much?” I mutter under my breath.

  “Is it better that way?” he whispers, leaning toward me.

  “Is what better what way?” I hiss back.

  He angles his tall body in my direction and stretches out his long legs. “The book. Is it more interesting if you read it upside down?”

  I roll my eyes and turn my Shakespeare reader right-side-up. But this time I have to physically force myself to look at the pages in front of me and not at the stranger beside me. My head wants gawk at him.

  Why? It’s not like he’s good-looking, is it? Is it his wicked scars? Is it the fact that he’s new?

  That’s probably it. It’s only natural to be curious about a new person, I suppose. Even if he is a rude jerk-face.

  The second the bell rings signaling the end of class I dash from my seat, beating almost everyone else to the door— no small feat considering I’m the furthest from it. I want to get away, as far away from that new boy as I possibly can. But at the same time, I’m torn by an almost overwhelming urge to stare at him.

  What the hell is going on?

  Corrine gives me an uneasy glance as I silently brush past her and head down the hall. The fleeting temptation to stroll right off campus is quickly squashed by an image of Tatiana’s scolding face. I’d promised her I’d finish the year strong, and there are five months to go. Short of a major emergency—such as my demon half making an uninvited appearance—ditching is off the agenda. I’ll just have to control whatever crazy neurotic crisis is plaguing me this week.

  My next class is history. I open my book and start to read, or, at least pretend to. I know every word in the textbook by heart, but I’ve long since learned it’s best not to let on just how smart I really am.

  “Hi, again.”

  For an instant I could’ve been sitting in a block of ice, but as quickly as the sensation appears, it disappears. I glance up from my book to see Blond Boy standing beside me. Again. I try to ignore him, but cannot resist the pull his eyes have over me. Slowly I raise my head and face him as he sits down in the empty spot next to me. Again.

  “Don’t get too comfortable there. Someone else usually sits in that seat,” I say. I try not to gape at the silver slash curving down his face—violent, but beautiful at the same time. I’m drawn to it.

  Like him.

  “So, is every seat next to you already spoken for?” he asks, brushing his golden hair out of his eyes. Soft eyes. Like a robin’s egg. Not the electrifying blue of Kieron’s or the icy cool blue of mine and Lucky’s.

  “Pretty much.”

  “But there isn’t anyone here now but me.” His full lips shape into a cocky smirk, and he places his hands behind his head.

  My eyes narrow. “My boyfriend usually sits there.”

  “Oh, really. And where’s he now?” His musical voice is laced with amusement.

  I have to fight back the overwhelming urge to reach across the desk and smack the smug look off his face. “Away. But he’ll be back. Soon,” I add.

  “Well, until then, I’ll just make myself comfortable. If you don’t mind.”

  “It’s a free country,” I mutter.

  “So they say.” He reaches into his back pocket, flips open his cell phone and taps some buttons.

  “Where are you from?” I blurt out, much to my surprise.

  He lifts his gaze, raises his eyebrows, and snaps his phone shut. “Uh…couple of places…”

  “Name one.”

  His shocked look fades into one of amusement. “Well, I was born in Los Angeles, spent some time in Europe and South America before we moved back to Boston. Then—”

  “I don’t need your whole life story,” I snap, then bite my lower lip. What is wrong with me? Why am I coming across like such a hostile bitch?

  “Well….you asked…” He raises an eyebrow and cracks a small grin.

  “I said name one. Why did you move here? And what happened to your face? Why do you have such a huge scar on it?”

  The second the words come out I slap my hands over my mouth, mortified. I can’t even blame Lucky for my rudeness. Unfortunately, this is all me.

  There’s an uncomfortable silence from his seat as his jaw drops and his eyes widen. “What did you just say?” he gasps.

  I’m dying a million deaths right now. There’s no excuse for me being so mean. None. I drop my head as the heat rushes to my cheeks. “I’m sorry,” I whisper. “That was very rude. I didn’t mean it…”

  He clears his throat and sits up straight, his chiseled jaw rigid. “It’s okay,” he finally says, his voice stiff. A moment later he lets out a small chuckle. “It’s interesting…I’ve never had anyone come out and ask me that before.”

  I gulp hard. “Sorry.
It just came out. I wasn’t thinking…”

  “I suppose you noticed my sister’s scars too?”

  I nod, positive my face is redder than my cherry-blossom fingernail polish.

  “We were in an accident together.”

  “I’m sorry,” I repeat.

  He shakes his head and shrugs. “Really, it’s fine. So, what’s your name?” he asks, leaning close again. But just then Mrs. Jackson calls the class to order, and he sits back. But I still feel his eyes on me. Not an entirely unpleasant feeling.

  When class is over I rush to the door again, convinced now I must be coming down with something. It’s the only explanation I have for the sickly chills I felt earlier and for my extreme bitchiness. But I feel physically fine now, and even when Blond Boy comes up and lightly touches my arm, I feel nothing unusual.

  “So I never got your name,” he says, his mouth curving into a friendly smile.

  I pause beside him. “I’m Liora.”

  “Hi, Liora. I’m Tristan St. John. My friends call me Tris sometimes.”

  “Hey.” Demons call me Lucky sometimes.

  “I was wondering if you could tell me where room 217 is. I have Trig there next.”

  I sigh. Seriously? But I’m determined to be nice, if for no other reason than to make up for being such a psycho earlier. “I’m actually headed there now myself. You can walk with me if you like.”

  Tristan flashes another easy grin and falls into place beside me.

  “Kinda late in the year to be starting at a new school, isn’t it?” I ask as we weave through the throng of students. Some glance in our direction, and as usual, they’re far more interested in the boy beside me than in me.

  “Yeah. My sister Cassie wasn’t happy about it. But I don’t care much.”

  “So why’d you move here?”

  He shrugs, his gaze sweeping the hallway “My family had some obligations in the area. We don’t know how long we’ll be here, though…”

  I find his answer interesting. What possible ‘obligations’ could one have in Dove Creek, Virginia? The obligation to die of boredom, or, if you’re really lucky, be attacked by demons, vampires, shape shifters, or other freaky things that roam around here at night?