Pen jumps up before I’m ready and runs toward the building. I clear my mind of all thoughts and chase after her.
Demons are on us as soon as we enter. Ric and Maple must have tipped off our arrival, and normally, it’d bug me that we lost the element of surprise. Pen is ahead of me, taking on two of her own demons, Maple next to her. I knock a mustard-colored demon to the ground. Another one jumps on my back. I’d take them down faster, but I’m in the mood to at least pretend like it’s a challenge.
The demon tries to knock me to the ground and scratches its talons into my neck, but I have the advantage. I throw myself backward into the wall and the demon hisses against the brick. I step away and then pound myself back into the wall. Each time I do it, the demon makes a sound and it brings me some satisfaction. After a few more hits against the wall, the demon seems to be dead weight, so I yank the knife from my pocket, thrust it into the demon and mutter the incantation. The demon explodes into goo. I wipe away some of its guts from my hair. Job well done.
The mustard demon is back on its feet, and it charges at me like a bull. I kick it in the stomach, and mutter an incantation that sends it flying across the room. That can’t be all the fight this thing has. Ric yells my name from somewhere deeper in the building, so I toss a handful of salt on the demon and send him back to hell before running toward Ric’s voice.
The sound of chaos lingers through the hall. A girl screams, and I burst through an open door, hoping that it’s not Penelope. I’m on the ground as soon as the door opens, demon snarling in my face. I push it away from me as its claws find my arms. Drool drips on my face. The demon’s green eyes are bright against its black scales, and the blackness reminds me of Kriegen. My mom. Her demon form was black like that. Black like her soul, apparently. The way she planned to turn me and Pen into demons, like her. She wanted to kill Penelope, to rip the magic from her soul with an ancient black dagger. She didn’t even care about me except for how she could use me.
Pushing the demon away, I manage to flip it off me. It only lands a few inches away, but that’s all I need. I get to my gun before the demon is back to its feet, and I release a salt pellet into its heart. The demon screams, and I yell the incantation before it explodes.
It takes a second for the surrounds to settle while I catch my breath. My eyes search the room for Pen. I see Ric first—he’s in front of me, taking on three demons at once. Maple’s in the other corner of the room tossing salt on another demon. A demon screams a high-pitched cry, and I jerk around at the sound. Pen’s to my left in the back of the room, standing on a table. Below her, three demons are on their knees, and a forth is a lump on the ground.
I can’t look away from her.
The way she stands there and they sit in submission around her. Pen seems to be staring at them, waiting. I take a step toward her, but then they all explode in unison. Her lips didn’t even move. She’s using the void again. She’s glad she has it, but each time she uses it I feel like she’s risking herself. Risking us. Risking me.
Her eyes catch mine from across the room, and her smile fades. Yes, I am pissed. And I’m worried. I’m feeling more than I can figure out how to explain because of this demon magic.
I can’t believe she’s doing this right now with Ric and Maple around. Ric knows about De’Intero and that she’s a halfling, but no one has any clue about the void except the two of us. Even if Ric is her best friend, there are some things that are too dangerous to share. Her having the void is one of them. It’s reckless—and I’m all for her being brave, but there’s a difference between courage and stupidity.
God, I sound like my dad.
She’s next to me in a second, blond hair falling out of its ponytail. “I’m going to give Ric a hand.”
I grab her arm. “Say the words out loud, Pen. Out loud.”
She responds with a slight nod, then she’s on the other side of the room. I run off to help Maple, who’s suddenly surrounded by more demons. A demon kicks her from behind, her gun slides across the room and she turns her back on the crowd of demons to take down her attacker. Where are they all coming from? I charge at them from behind and shoot the salt gun on their backs. Two fall down before the others realize I’m right there. Maple yells the incantation, and a bunch of them explode.
I toss my gun to Maple, and wordlessly, she goes to work. I don’t need a gun. I slide the knife from my pocket. Two more demons run toward me. Bring it on.
Chapter Three
Penelope
A few hours later, Carter stares at me from across the table in the Enforcer Unit of the Nucleus House. He’s been giving me his angry eyes for an hour now. I’ve been avoiding the gaze—and him kicking my shin to get my attention. I don’t want to talk about what happened earlier, or the way he scolded me. He doesn’t understand what the magic is like, or how it feels to be helpful after years of uselessness.
When he tosses a pencil at me, I finally look up from my papers. “What?” I snap.
His eyebrows crease into an annoyed look. I mimic it. “What was that earlier?”
“Instinct,” I say, as if that’s all the answer he needs. Because really, it is. This is my magic, my life, and I should be able to use it how I please.
Carter shakes his head. He looks like more his dad when he has his angry expression. “Twice in one day.”
He says it like I’m unaware that I used magic. Of course I’m aware. I’m the one who did it. The void is too powerful to just let me sit back and do nothing. He can’t possibly understand that, which is why I haven’t said anything about it. “It’s fine.”
“It’s not fine. If they find out…it’s not just you they’d be after,” he leans in and lowers his voice. “I’m not saying don’t use magic, but cool it. At least until we have more information.”
Yes, it was risky—using the void in front of Ric. No one knows we even went to De’Interno except for Carter’s dad and Connie, and even they weren’t told the whole story. We’d be lab rats somewhere if we told them we’d made a bunch of demons disappear.
“Stop worrying so much. You’ll get wrinkles,” I say, trying to lighten the mood. We’re not going to agree about this. I said the wrong thing. His green eyes seem to darken in anger.
“Can’t you take anything seriously?”
I scoff, and cross my arms. “I do take this seriously. Can’t you let it go for a single minute and stop worrying?”
“No,” he snaps, a little too loudly and another Enforcer looks over at us. He realizes the extra attention and leans back in his chair. “I can’t. I don’t like messing with things I don’t understand. Someone needs to be worried about it.”
I don’t have anything to say to that. I sit here, quietly staring at him until he shakes his head and focuses on his paperwork as if it’s the most interesting thing on the planet. In the silence, Ric’s laugh resonates through the room, and then he covers his mouth when Maple shushes him. I watch them talking back and forth in a whisper.
I’m glad all that’s worked out. When they were first paired, it was sure to be a disaster. Maple wanted a partner she could marry, and Ric, being gay, was not that person. I’m glad that they connect because it makes it all easier. The first few days of their partnership was rough, but now, I think they’re going to be a great team. Considering they’ll probably be partners for life, it’s a good thing. The bond between paired Enforcers is a strong one.
When we perform the ceremony, we swear loyalty through a blood oath to our cause in protecting the Nons and to our partner as long that lasts as we wear Enforcer triangles. Blood oaths can’t be broken, not unless you want to face some major consequences. I’m not sure exactly what will happen, but it’s not good. No one’s ever really breaking them, and if they are, then they aren’t talking about it. Enforcers are part of a whole when they’re paired. Most people don’t recover from losing their other half.
And now I get why Carter’s so angry. He’s scared. For me and for himself. A halfling witch who
can access the void? I doubt the Triad would be understanding of that. He would lose me if the wrong people found out what we were, what we did, and what I can do with the void.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. Carter looks back at me, eyes wide and softer than before. “I’ll be more careful.”
He sends me a smile, but it doesn’t stretch across his face. We’re not in the clear, not a resolution to this mystery of my magic, but it’s something.
I sign my name to the bottom of my report and walk it toward the filing stack. When I turn, Taylor Plum is behind me. Her dark brown hair is smooth around her face. It looks cute.
“Penelope,” she says, throwing her arms around. Taylor Plum is, apparently, a hugger. I doubt her badass Enforcer sister Shira has that quality.
“Taylor,” I say, backing away slowly, my stomach churning. It’s the magic, the void, but I wonder if I’ll get used to it. “What’s with the hug?”
She shrugs. “I’m in a good mood. The Statics got to come to the Nucleus House today for a meeting. I never get to come inside.”
Another downfall of being a Static, a witch without magic. When Statics are eighteen, they’re exiled from the community. No contact with any witches, which includes family. No WNN, Witches’ News Network. No meetings. No Triad. Nothing. They’re cut off our community, but some Statics stay connected with each other. Like a support group.
“Why are you here?”
Her eyes light up, making the brown look more like the color of honey. “The Observance. The Statics get to have a whole segment at the party. Today’s the first meeting.”
The Observance celebrates the biggest historical event in the witch community—the creation of the Triad and the Council. It’s supposed to represent the future by honoring the past. Basically, it’s the fourth of July—a symbol of importance, but a big excuse for a party with fancy dresses.
I smile at her excitement, but secretly, I’m glad I’m not one of them. Before Carter, I worried about exposure every day, but now, I’m secure in my position as an Enforcer, and even more importantly, as a witch. The void gives me that. “Good luck with that,” I say.
She starts to turn away when Carter walks up. Taylor’s eyes get wider as she looks at him. “William Prescott?”
Carter turns on. It’s crazy to watch, like one of those animated dolls that respond to movement. His name spoken as, ‘William Prescott’, is a trigger that turns him into someone else. A soldier reporting for duty.
“How are you today?” he asks Taylor.
She blushes. Literally blushes. And squeaks. If I was a smaller person, I’d be jealous. But then I’d not be with he-who-makes-all-women-swoon.
“Fine,” Taylor says. She pulls me into a hug again and whispers in my ear. “He’s so hot. I can’t believe you’re with him.” And then she jerks away and rushes out the door.
Carter raises an eyebrow. “What was that about?”
That was the typical response, I think, but I shrug instead and don’t even try to hide my smile. “She said she wants to borrow you for a night. She’ll pick you up at seven and bring you back in one piece. Hopefully.”
Carter blinks, but he’s smiling. “Oh good. I needed a break from my girlfriend. Do you think she likes to make-out on street corners with crowds around?”
“If she knows what’s good for her,” I say, and I intentionally find his hand. His smile fades from one of amusement, to the one that’s mine. The one that says he loves me. Whatever anger from earlier isn’t totally gone, but at least it’s on hold. That’s good enough for now.
Hand in mine, we walk away from the desk. “But really, what was that?” Carter asks.
“She’s excited to plan for the Observance. I guess the Triad is letting Statics participate.”
Silence falls between us. His hand is still in mine, but now he’s rigid. It’s because I mentioned the Triad. Carter has issues with them, but mostly with his dad. I can’t blame him. They do things that I don’t agree with, either. Any time we talk about this he extinguishes, like tossing water on a fire.
“Hey,” I start.
Carter shrugs, trying to be normal.
“We should go see Poncho,” he says.
We need to give him the black dagger, see what he can find out about it. We’ve been holding onto the dagger since we left De’Intero. It’s the thing that killed Kriegen, the same weapon I saw her use to release a witch’s magic, and the one she wanted to use on me. We’re not sure what it is, but we both know it’s important.
We grab our bags off the table and Ric and Maple stop laughing as we approach. I look at Ric’s paper. It’s still empty. “I see you’re being productive.”
“I work better under pressure,” he says.
Maple smiles. “He’s distracting. Did he tell you about the waiter from the French place?”
“Ah yes, Pierre.” The one and only hot Frenchman who Ric wanted to date for months. We went to that place so often that I still can’t smell Ratatouille without the urge to hurl. It worked out when he got the date, but of course Pierre from Lyon ended up being Paul from Richmond.
“He’s got the best dating mishaps,” Maple says.
I smile. “You should ask him about Brian, and John, and Riley.”
Ric flips me off. I stick out my tongue. In my head, it felt effective.
“Real mature,” Ric says.
“Whatever, I’m awesome.”
Carter shakes his head.
“Are they always like this?” Maple asks.
“You haven’t known us long enough yet, but yes,” Ric says.
“It’s how we show love,” I add.
I look back at Carter, who nods toward the door. Right. Poncho. “See you both at dinner?” Gran insisted they be there for Pop’s retirement dinner. Inviting my friends over is the closest thing she will get to a party.
“Will there be pie?” Ric asks.
“Is the sky blue?”
“Sometimes it’s gray,” Maple adds.
I don’t even have a response to that. Way to ruin my metaphor. “See you both later,” I say.
The library doors squeaks open when we push through them. My feet clack on the marble ground and echo through the space. Hyde the cat sits at the circulation desk next to Poncho and hisses when he sees me. Seak, the library’s other cat, curls against my feet. Hyde’s disdain is the only way, aside from the color of his ID tag, I can tell the two cats apart.
Poncho looks up at us through his dark slanted eyes as we enter. They look like slits on his extra-round face. “Miss Grey, Mr. Prescott—I didn’t expect you today.” There’s a slight smile on his face, slight enough that I can see the endearing gap in his teeth.
“We have a situation we need to discuss with you,” I say.
“Privately,” Carter adds. Even though there are only like three people in here. It’s never that busy.
Poncho nods slowly, his gray-blue spiked hair not even moving. “I see.” He looks between us and then places a little sign on the information desk.
Will return. Do Not Take Any Books Without Permission.
The implied “or else” is practically written in blood.
“My office.” And then he leads us down the hallway, Hyde and Seak following behind him. Carter and I exchange a look before following. As we walk, I notice the singular sock with the red stripe, the other one on someone else’s foot. I still don’t fully understand how Vassago has the mate, but one day I will ask.
Poncho’s office is dark, filled with candles, a fireplace, and leather chairs. It’s drafty. The walls are lined with books—lots of books because they’re aren’t enough outside, you know, in the actual library—and papers that he’s stuck up all over the place. The books don’t seem to be in any certain order and some are in Latin, some in English, and some in whatever the demonic code is. Varying shapes and sizes of skulls align the walls.
“What kind of animals are those?” I ask, pointing to a skull with two horns where the cheeks are.
“I don’t think they are animals. At least not from this world.”
I blink. “Demon animals? Demons?”
Carter shrugs. “I doubt he’s collecting dog skeletons.”
This office officially gives me the heebie-jeebies.
“What are we here to discuss?” Poncho asks, sitting in his chair. Hyde and Seak jump on the desktop.
I toss my bag on the chair and watch Carter as he searches his for the dagger. “We have this.” Poncho’s eyes widen as Carter holds it out to him. “We need to know what it does.”
Poncho’s hand lingers above, but doesn’t move to touch the dagger. The black hilt and blade shimmer in the light of his lamp. The blade has some dried demon guts stuck to it and the handle is engraved with five symbols, but right now they’re caked with dirt from where we buried it three days ago when we got back from De’Interno. We knew if we had it we could get caught. It was too important to let the Triad get it, so we kept it buried.
“Where did you get this?”
“Kriegen had it,” Carter said. His voice is completely stable when he speaks, but I look at him anyway. I know he has strong feelings about his mom, even if he doesn’t say them out loud.
“I saw her use it on the witch in the woods and then we used it to kill her in De’Intero.”
Poncho hmms. “In the woods, the redhead?” I nod. “This is what she used to separate the witch from her essence.”
“Yep, and then she released it into the atmosphere. Kriegen said she didn’t need it, but it’s still strange.” Demons want our essence. It’s why they hunt witches, and when they take our essence, our source of magic, we die. It’s what happened to my parents. A witch can’t survive without an essence. It’s sort of like bone marrow. I’m the only one who’s ever survived, because the demon didn’t take all of my essence, and I had the void. Lucky me.
The only time a demon doesn’t want a witch’s essence is if the demon used to be a witch, like Kriegen. Witches who undergo the transformation, the change from witches to demons, have more power than demons that are born or created from Nons.
Storm: a Salt novel (Entangled Teen) Page 2
