Demonosity

by Amanda Ashby

  “Oh, there you are, Cass,” a voice suddenly said, and she looked up just as Travis walked around the corner. “I was just looking for you. I forgot to get your address.”

  But Cassidy hardly noticed. Her eyes were fixed on the grimoire, which burned more brightly with every step Travis took toward her. The book fell from her hands and landed on the floor with a thump.

  “No.” Her heart pounded in her chest as she tried to make sense of what was happening. The grimoire didn’t lie. She knew that. She’d seen it glow every time she’d fought a demon knight. But those demons had been hideous. Monsters who smelled of death and blood and dark magic. Travis was none of those things. He was . . . he was . .

  “Cass, talk to me. What’s going on?” Nash yelled from the other end of the phone, but Cassidy didn’t reply. Instead, she lowered the sports bag to the ground and reached for the sheathed sword, never taking her eyes off Travis’s beautiful face.

  Cassidy felt sick. She was the girl who couldn’t even decide what her favorite candy bar was. How was she meant to figure this one out?

  “Okay.” Travis took a cautious step toward her, and the grimoire glowed even more brightly. “I know that you’re pissed with me, but I did try to tell you. Remember? Before? Then Nash turned up?”

  “I thought you were going to tell me that you wanted to go to the movies or something. Not that you’re a demon.” She unsheathed the sword and tried to ignore the way her hand was shaking.

  “Cass.” He took another step forward.

  “No closer,” she commanded as she raised the sword, bracing her knees and holding her arm high, just the way Thomas had taught her.

  “If it’s any consolation, I was going to ask you to go to the movies as well. Depending on how you took the news. But I’m guessing, from the sword that you’re pressing into my neck, that this is not going down well with you,” Travis said, his dark eyes never leaving her face.

  “What the—” Nash was suddenly racing toward them, then came to an abrupt halt. But Travis didn’t even blink as he continued to stare directly at Cassidy.

  “Look, I really don’t mind if you kill me, but before you do, there’s one thing you need to know.”

  “Wh-what’s that?” Cassidy stammered, not sure how she could even be involved in this surreal conversation.

  “Just remember. Not all demons are bad.”

  Then without another word he turned and ran down the hallway. Cassidy raced after him, her breath coming in short, sharp bursts. But by the time she pushed through the large doors that led out of the school, there was no sign of Travis. For a moment she just stood there before she looked up into the sky.

  “Thomas!” she screamed. “Get here now. I-I need you.”

  TWENTY-FOUR

  Where was he?

  Cassidy marched around the deserted school yard, waiting for the owl that was Thomas to arrive. How could this be happening? It didn’t make sense. Travis wasn’t a demon. He couldn’t be. So why did the grimoire light up like that? And, a small voice nudged at the back of her mind, why did he admit that it was true?

  “No, it’s just not possible,” she said for the hundredth time as she turned to where Nash was hunched over, frantically studying the grimoire. He was at their favorite table, and though Cassidy was exhausted, she found it impossible to sit down for more than a second for fear that it would sink in and somehow make it seem more real. She marched over to a pile of leaves and kicked them into the air. It didn’t make her feel remotely better. “I mean, you saw the other demons. They were revolting. Hideous. Travis isn’t hideous. He looks normal. And where is Thomas?”

  “Perhaps he’s asleep?” Nash suggested, his beautiful porcelain brow wrinkled in sympathy. “There is the time difference. Not to mention the seven centuries in between.”

  “Nash, you’re not helping,” Cassidy said as Nash continued to flip through the grimoire, past the page where it explained how to make an amulet. “Wait, go back to that page.”

  “What page?” Nash looked up at her.

  “The amulet page,” Cassidy said as her mind churned over. The she stared at him in horror. “That’s why Travis said he couldn’t play Romeo,” she gasped. “He actually told me that it was because he couldn’t see himself starring with Celeste, but I just thought he meant that he didn’t like her. And Celeste had told me that it was like she was invisible to him.”

  Nash looked slightly stunned that he hadn’t figured it out. “You’re right. Ever since we put the amulet on her, he literally wouldn’t have been able to see her.”

  Cassidy dropped her head into her hands and groaned. Everything was pointing to the fact that it was true. “But how is it possible?”

  “Hang on.” Nash feverishly flipped back through the grimoire. “I was reading about demons the other day. According to this, demons aren’t born. They’re made.”

  Cassidy looked at him blankly for a moment. “What do you mean? Made from what?”

  “Made from humans,” Nash said in a low voice as he began to read from the page. “‘Demon Lords increase their ranks by turning willing humans into demons for the sole purpose of helping them find the Black Rose. The demons are driven to do so because their demon spirit is too strong for the human flesh in which it is encased. They seek the Black Rose so their bodies may be as eternal as their soul.’”

  Cassidy sat down and dropped her head into her hands as she tried to process what he’d just read to her. Not only was Travis a demon, but he’d chosen to be a demon? Then something else occurred to her and she looked at Nash in horror.

  “So if those demons were once human, and I’ve been killing them, then that means—”

  “That means that you killed demons.” Nash’s voice was firm as he nodded for her to come look at the grimoire again. “‘When man becomes demon, the only thing remaining is the flesh. Everything else is taken over by the demon, especially their humanity.’”

  “Yes, but I’m still not sure that I’m okay with this.”

  “Well, let me tell you, as someone who has been attacked by those things twice, I’m perfectly okay with your killing them. In fact, I’m very grateful that you did,” Nash assured her. “Besides, I thought it was my job to tackle all the curly philosophical questions.”

  Cassidy knew he was right, and besides, right now she wasn’t sure that she even had room in her mind for any more crazy stuff. It was all too much.

  “Owl approaching at six o’clock,” Nash suddenly said before he scooped up the grimoire and shot her an encouraging glance. “And I really think this is a conversation you should have alone, so I’m going to go and wait in the car. Cass, you text me as soon as you need me. I mean it,” he growled. After giving her a fierce hug he marched off, the grimoire clutched firmly in his arms.

  Cassidy said good-bye and watched the owl as it flew closer and closer to the ground before landing in front of her. Normally, Thomas changed right away, but today the owl seemed to be studying her for so long that Cassidy began to fidget with the carnelian around her neck. Then she remembered his reaction to the necklace. He’d asked her if she would be willing to take it off. Cassidy felt ill.

  “You knew, didn’t you?” she asked, her voice so faint that she could hardly hear it. Suddenly, Thomas was there. His normal brown shirt was gone, replaced by a plain white linen one that almost matched the color of his pale face.

  “Knew what?”

  Knew what?

  Cassidy felt hysterical laughter rising up in her throat, and now that he was here, she had no idea where to begin. Did she ask him if it was normal for demons to kiss human girls? Should she see if he knew why some demons had eyes like bottled sunshine and a laugh that could make a girl weep? Finally, she crushed her internal thoughts and turned to him.

  “About Travis. You knew what he was.”

  For a moment he was silent, his face pale and unyielding before he finally nodded. “Oui. But I didn’t know he was here. Not until I saw the stone.”

&
nbsp; “What’s so important about the stone?” Cassidy suddenly yanked at the necklace, eager to get it as far away from her as possible. “Is it some sort of magical amulet like the one that Nash made for Celeste? Has he been doing something to me? Turning me into a demon?” The horror mounted in her throat as she realized just how different the world now was from the world she knew yesterday. Or an hour ago.

  Thomas quickly shook his head. “Turning into a demon is a lot more . . . complicated than that. The stone is none of those things. It has qualities, yes, but more to do with personal beliefs. Some people might call it a lucky charm.”

  “That’s what Travis said.” Cassidy’s confusion was mounting. Half of her longed to throw the stone away, but the other half, the half that seemed to be controlling her fingers, remained uncertain. “So what’s so special about it then? Why did he give it to me? Why did you ask me if I’d be willing to take it off?”

  “Because seeing you wearing something that belongs to my worst enemy was painful.”

  Worst enemy? Cassidy felt sick as her hand flew to her mouth. “So you know him? Have you fought him before?”

  “Many times.” Thomas nodded, and his finger made its way to his damaged face and slowly traced the length of his scar. “It was he who gave me this.”

  Cassidy, who was half hypnotized by the way Thomas’s finger was touching his face, felt as if she was going to choke as two separate realities crashed into one.

  All the stuff with Thomas, the Black Rose, and chasing after Celeste was only supposed to be until the solstice. But Travis was meant to be something else. Something special. Something real. And now it was all connected? As she rubbed her brow, Thomas’s face softened, transforming his features.

  “Perhaps I was wrong not to tell you. It’s not easy to explain that a demon can look so—”

  “Human?” Cassidy finished, as she looked up and realized how close Thomas was standing to her. Again the urge to reach out and touch him was there. But this time it wasn’t because he was in pain, but because she was. Instead, she quickly thrust her hands deep into the pockets of her coat and took a deep breath. “So what’s the story? Is he after the Black Rose, too?”

  “All demons desire the Black Rose,” Thomas simply said. “Their flesh is not designed for their souls. It is too flimsy. It cannot contain all that is within. Flesh pains them. The Black Rose calls out to them like a siren who promises to soothe them. But in return, they must give away their sanity.”

  “This is too much for me to cope with right now. I-I know that he saw the grimoire. I heard him admit it, but”—she choked on the words before suddenly remembering the final thing Travis had told her—“he said that not all demons are bad. Is that true?”

  For a moment Thomas paused and lowered his head as if he wasn’t going to answer her, but after an eternity he looked up and nodded almost reluctantly. “That is true.”

  Not all demons are bad. Suddenly, Cassidy marched over to her sports bag and then shot Thomas an apologetic look.

  “I’m sorry. I need some time to think this all through.”

  “Oui,” he said but she hardly heard him as she hurried to the parking lot where Nash would be waiting for her. Not all demons are bad.

  “Cass, is that you?” her mom called as soon as Cassidy walked in the front door an hour later, still feeling weak and overwhelmed by everything she’d learned. Despite what had happened, they’d still had to follow Celeste home to make sure she was safe. Thankfully, Nash had said he would be on Twitter duty if Celeste decided to go out. “I’m in the kitchen. I’m just making some dinner. Are you hungry?”

  Cassidy shuddered as she wondered what her chances were of ignoring her mother and sneaking into her bedroom so that she could crawl under the comforter and perhaps stay there for a hundred years. Just until she’d sorted out this mess that she’d found herself in. Then her mom poked her head into the hallway, and Cassidy realized that her chances were slim to none. She discreetly put her purse on the hallway table and tucked her sports bag underneath it. Then she followed her mom’s voice into the kitchen.

  “Er, sure.” She tried to muster up some enthusiasm and push her conversation with Thomas to the back of her mind. “Can I just go see how Dad is?”

  “He’s in the shower, he’ll be out in a moment, and he seems to be feeling better.”

  “Oh,” Cassidy said. He had been very excited when he was finally allowed to have a proper shower again. Then she suddenly realized that even if her dad wasn’t in the shower, it wasn’t like she could tell him what was going on. She felt her bottom lip begin to wobble. She glanced away to hide her expression, but it was too late, and her mom’s shrewd eyes narrowed.

  “Hey, are you okay? What’s going on?”

  “Nothing.” Cassidy quickly shook her head and willed herself not to cry. “I’m just tired.”

  “Oh.” Her mom busied herself with folding and unfolding the cloth in her hands. “Of course. Well, you have been busy lately. Are you sure that you’re not overdoing it?”

  “That’s a good one coming from you,” Cassidy said, though her tone was light; instead of getting offended her mom actually gave her a rueful smile.

  “Guilty as charged. Cassidy, I know you don’t always like my advice, but when it comes to solving problems, I’ve built a career on it, so perhaps it’s something that we could figure out together—”

  “It’s a boy thing,” Cassidy said in a dry voice, knowing that her mom wasn’t exactly a fan of dealing with the messy side of life. When the going gets tough, Mom goes to the office.

  “Oh.” Her mom winced, just the way Cassidy knew that she would. “Travis? The one who’s coming around next Sunday?”

  “Yeah, him. I’ve just found out that he’s not who I thought he was.”

  “They never are.” Her mom let out a sigh, and Cassidy shuddered; she was closer to the truth than she realized.

  “Anyway, the visit is definitely off.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. Your father was looking forward to meeting him. So was I.” Her mom paused and studied her fingers. “I wish I could help more, but boys aren’t really my specialty. Thank goodness I met your father, who was good enough at relationships for both of us. You could say that Romeo and Juliet saved me.”

  “What?” Cassidy looked at her mom, all thoughts of Travis leaving her mind. “You met when Dad was playing Romeo?”

  “Yes, I thought you knew that. That’s why I thought it would be so nice for you to be in it. It was lucky for your father and me.”

  “You said you wanted me to do it because it would be good for my college applications,” Cassidy reminded her.

  “And so it will be,” her mom said in a practical voice. “But that doesn’t mean it’s not a good play.”

  “Is that how you knew it was Dad’s favorite?” Cassidy leaned forward on the counter and really studied her mom’s face for the first time in ages. She looked older. And tired. Why had Cassidy never noticed that before?

  “Yes. He always loved it,” her mom said as her eyes lit up and a rare smile traced her mouth. “‘Did my heart love till now? Forswear it, sight!’”

  “‘For I ne’er saw true beauty till this night,’” Cassidy finished off in surprise, and then was even more surprised when her pragmatic mother dabbed at her eyes.

  “Are you okay?” Cassidy asked in alarm; this was definitely pushing the boundaries of their relationship. Thankfully, before she had to do anything else, her cell phone rang.

  “I’m fine,” her mom hastily assured her before nodding for Cassidy to answer the call. It was Nash, and so Cassidy quickly slipped back out into the hallway, still not quite sure what had just happened.

  “Hey,” he said. “What are you doing?”

  “Having the weirdest conversation with my mom.” Cassidy rubbed her brow. “We were quoting Shakespeare. So what’s up? Please don’t tell me Celeste’s going out again.”

  “No, I was actually just checking how you’re d
oing.”

  “I’m fine,” she assured him before catching sight of her pale face in the hallway mirror. “Okay, so not fine, but I’ll get there,” she promised. She just needed to focus on something else. Like breathing. Or not screaming and ripping her hair out. Simple tasks.

  “Just try not to keep thinking about it. It’s only going to freak you out more.”

  Too late for that, she thought with a sigh.

  Thankfully, the rest of the night was surprisingly calm. Her dad was in a good mood, and when he wasn’t declaring that he was going to order compression stockings in all different colors and patterns, he was talking about how tomorrow he had an extra physical therapy session at the outpatient center.

  After dinner they’d all gone into the living room to watch an old James Dean movie, and even her mom, who normally had a stack of reports next to her, had sat through all of it without doing any work. In fact, Cassidy couldn’t remember when they’d spent a more regular night together.

  It was almost eleven when she walked into her bedroom. The light rapping on the window started almost immediately, and for a few moments Cassidy ignored it. She didn’t feel like talking to anyone right now. Especially not Thomas. He rapped again, and she reluctantly crossed the floor and pushed back the drapes. But instead of seeing an owl hovering outside her window, it was Travis who stood in the shadows, his beautiful face looking sunken and gray.

  “Hey, Cass,” he said, his voice still hauntingly the same. “So I was wondering if you were ready to talk?”

  For a moment she just stared at him, speechless, before finally nodding her head. “Okay, but not here. There’s a park two blocks away. Meet me there in ten minutes. Oh, and Travis, I’ll be bringing my sword.”

  TWENTY-FIVE

  Twenty minutes later, Travis looked over at the child’s swing that Cassidy was sitting in, the sword resting across her lap. It was dark now, and the moonlight glinted off the blade; from the distance came the thumping bass of a car stereo pounding its way down the road. “You know,” Travis said, “I get why you’re holding Thomas’s sword in case I attack you, but this whole talking-to-each-other thing works a lot better if you actually say something. Do you hate me?”