Dealing with Demons

by Melissa Haag

  To be bound to the same limitations I now faced for the rest of my life...the idea devastated me. I had thought choosing Morik would gain me more freedom.

  “So if we complete this link, then what? How do we know when it’s complete?”

  “It runs from base to crown. When it’s complete, by pact, none of my kind shall harm you.”

  I sat on the edge of my bed, thinking. Not only did I need to choose with my heart and head, but I needed the link to remove my limitations. That the link would also give Morik free access to my world didn’t cause me a moment’s concern. Despite his violent possession of Clavin before he first introduced himself, violence didn’t live at the core of his nature. Curious and thoughtful, he observed us and learned.

  No, Morik wasn’t the reason for my thoughtful mood. My pensiveness stemmed from the cause of the link.

  “If it’s not growing because of deals, then how am I supposed to finish it?” Part of me feared that my inability to choose directly related to the link’s growth. Without the link’s completion, I was still under my existing time limit.

  “I’m not sure.” He reached out and ran a hand gently over my hair. “We’ll figure it out. We have time.”

  But how much?

  Chapter Eighteen

  The rest of Christmas break passed in a breathless rush. Despite Beatriz’s begging, I spent New Year’s Eve in my enchanted sleep, more aware of the significance of a new year than most other people my age.

  I woke New Year’s Day and quickly dressed for work. When we’d delivered the muffins a few days ago, I’d questioned Mona to find out if business slowed because of the holiday. She had assured me that she kept the shop open on New Year’s Day because the high demand for coffee made it extremely profitable. I looked forward to the work.

  Morik waited for me at the table. Optimistically, Gran had made two dozen muffins, and always clever, she’d added two dozen mini-quiches to the delivery. The smell of them made my mouth water on the drive over.

  We arrived a few minutes early. Morik carried the larger of the two flat boxes and held the door for me. Inside, the only two customers looked up from their cups at the sound of the bell. Mona stood behind the counter, thumbing through a magazine, but glanced up and caught my disappointed expression.

  She laughed aloud. “Remember what this looks like. You’ll want a hot bath and a foot rub by one o’clock.”

  Morik and I set the boxes on the counter. Mona had already invested in a cute, clear plastic display to show the baked goods. She even had paper doilies to place on the transparent shelves, to make the food look fancier.

  “What’s in the extra box?” she asked, lifting the lid.

  “Hangover food, according to Gran.”

  While I stepped behind the employee door to remove my coat, Morik went to one of the tables. I brought him a cup of coffee, knowing he’d stay until it started to get busy.

  Once Mona had set out the majority of the baked goods, she moved the rest to the back room.

  The bell rang before she returned. It didn’t stop ringing after that.

  The crowds of inarticulate, hung-over people hit us like waves on a shore. Starting small, they grew in intensity. At one point, I brought an extra coffee pot from the back. We didn’t have a warmer for it, but it didn’t matter. We moved a full pot to the counter to sit while the next one brewed. The waiting pot emptied before the next cycle finished.

  Gran’s baked goods disappeared in the crush of bodies, as did Morik. Before nine, we’d sold every breakfast item. By ten, Morik returned with three stacked boxes, saying Gran had gone back to bed, and we shouldn’t expect more.

  Mona beamed and refilled, laughed and restocked breakfast items, took orders and hit the cash button on the register until one forty.

  At one forty-five, after the last customer left, she and I collapsed onto chairs. Crumbs littered the tables and floors. The garbage overflowed with coffee grounds. The sandwich board needed serious attention because after we ran out of Gran’s goods, people had started to order from the lunch menu. Neither of us moved to clean a thing.

  “My feet hurt,” I said with a little groan.

  Mona laughed. “I’d say you could leave, but I really need your help or I’ll be crawling out of here at midnight.”

  Smiling tiredly, I got to my feet as someone tapped on the door. Morik stood outside.

  Mona let him in while I got the wash bucket for the tables. When I came back out, he had a broom in his hand. I wanted to hug him.

  Mona turned up the radio, and we set to work again. I never realized how much time all the cleanup and prep I did throughout my shift saved us by the end of the day. It took forty minutes to finish.

  Putting the last container of sliced tomatoes into the refrigerator, I grabbed my jacket and hobbled to the front. Mona had just finished counting the tips and handed me a wad of bills.

  “Eighty bucks,” she said proudly. “I love making hung-over people happy.” She also handed me a fat envelope with Gran’s name.

  I liked the money, but not the achy feet. Morik helped me to the car.

  When we got home, Gran sat on the couch while Mom and Aunt Grace worked together in the kitchen to put away the last of the dishes. They had Miss Congeniality playing. One of my favorites. After tossing my things in the direction of the coat hook, I collapsed on the couch next to Gran and limply handed her the envelope.

  “I couldn’t believe Morik when he came back at eight saying you’d need more baked goods.” Gran picked up the envelope with a grin. “Did you sell everything in the second batch, too?”

  I nodded, eyes focused on the screen. Morik sat on the floor in front of me and nudged one of my legs to the side. Grudgingly, I moved. When he picked up the foot and started to rub it, I sighed and closed my eyes.

  “Cars and foot rubs?” Aunt Danielle grumbled. “Idiot Belinda.”

  My thoughts exactly. But fear tended to make people do strange things.

  Returning to school felt good. Though I liked spending the extra time with Morik during break, I craved the normalcy of monotony. Yet, January’s piercing cold, the short days, Mom’s spring wedding plans, and my dwindling time wore on me.

  Morik didn’t voice any concern about my lack of choice or the link. He didn’t need to. We all knew what consequence loomed if I didn’t complete one or both. Everyone dealt with the stress of the wait in his or her own way. Mom and Aunt Grace planned a wedding, Gran threw herself into her baking, and Morik remained extremely attentive when with me.

  We only parted company while I was at school, then he went back to my house to spend the day with Gran, planning and shopping for dinner. I loved helping them cook whatever unusual meal they came up with.

  Morik’s interest in cooking delighted Gran. After exhausting Gran’s cookbooks of appealing options, he bought her a laptop so she could research recipes online. It also provided her a way to track the return of investment for her baked goods that he delivered daily to the Coffee Shop.

  Despite all the time Morik and I spent together and the closeness we enjoyed, nothing changed. The stunted twist of black and silver, the representation of our link, ended abruptly in the sway of my back. So, by the end of the month, Mom relented on her rule about not spending the night at Morik’s. I could see the worry in her eyes. Less than four months until I turned seventeen.

  The link’s continued lack of growth frustrated me. And, though I tried to recreate the moments I associated with the first appearance of it and its subsequent growth, nothing happened. Well, I shouldn’t say that. Morik really liked when I spontaneously kissed him, but despite the consuming black in his eyes, more often I saw a stronger presence of yellow. I didn’t let him know his eyes gave away his worry.

  Needing a distraction for both of us, we hung out with Beatriz on the weekends after work. Her easy acceptance of Morik gave me a sliver of hope that, if things went wrong, maybe he could endure with her friendship.

  We always left just befo
re dark. He would drive to the road, pull over, and pop us into his garage. I loved staying at Morik’s. It meant no chant and waking up early enough to make my own breakfast. I was heartily sick of toast.

  Thus, when I opened my eyes on the last Monday in January, my first thought was pancakes. My second was how nice and toasty warm sleeping next to Morik made me feel. I didn’t get up. Instead, I turned and found him resting with his eyes closed.

  His black lashes twitched against his skin. Did he dream? I hoped he dreamt something happy, carefree.

  I smirked as I recalled Beatriz’s demand to know if I’d “nibbled on his incredibly yummy bottom lip” yet. At school, she constantly hounded me about the details of our relationship. If my seventeenth birthday saw me to the grave, I wished Beatriz’s stubborn persistence good luck in winning over Morik.

  As I studied him, I decided his bottom lip did need a nibble. Was I bold enough? What did I have to lose? My time was limited. Yet, I didn’t move. Why did I hesitate to do the things I wanted to do? Because I still worried about Mom’s and Morik’s reactions. I didn’t want to disappoint my mom or push Morik into an aspect of our relationship that he hadn’t considered.

  “You’re very serious this morning,” he said without opening his eyes.

  “Thought you were sleeping.” I burrowed in closer to his warmth. Most mornings, I woke on my side with my head pillowed on his shoulder—the perfect spot.

  “I was until you woke.” He opened his swirling silver eyes and kissed the top of my head. The kiss that usually signaled our time in bed was over.

  It suited me fine. I had a lot to think about and didn’t want him studying my face while I did.

  “Are you serious?” Beatriz squealed when I admitted I’d spent the night at Morik’s.

  She leaned against my neighbor’s locker, grinning at me stupidly. I rolled my eyes at her and started to pull out the books I needed.

  “Yes, but it’s not what you’re thinking. Mom just gave me a break from wedding plans. By the way, she wants to go dress shopping this weekend,” I said to distract her. “Mom wanted to know if you could come with. More opinions.”

  “Of course I’ll go!”

  With my arms full, I bumped my locker closed with a hip and walked with Beatriz to our first class.

  Thanks to Beatriz’s friendship and the reduced use of my gift, many of our fellow classmates nodded or said hello as we passed. The sea of faces blended as I smiled and nodded in return. A very focused set of eyes caused me to do a double-take. The girl winked at me, and as I watched, she slumped slightly.

  Morik? I sure hoped so even though I’d need to scold him for using people again.

  A surprise quiz in first hour distracted me so thoroughly that I had no idea what Beatriz was talking about when she whispered to me.

  “Are you going to look for a winter formal, too?” She passed her paper forward, and I did the same before giving her a blank stare.

  “Don’t tell me you’re not going. It’s the weekend before Valentine’s—”

  She abruptly stopped talking as Mr. Wammner, our first hour teacher, swung his disapproving gaze in her direction. She smiled innocently in return, and I hid my amusement. The bell rang, and we both scooted from the room before he decided to talk to Beatriz.

  “The Valentine’s dance,” she said, picking up the conversation. “They really do it up here. The student council has the gym cleaned before they start decorating so it doesn’t smell like feet. They even bring in a punch fountain and snack table. Come on. We’re running out of dances before school’s out.”

  She brought up a good point. As a junior, I hadn’t gone to a single dance in my life. Maybe that’s why Mom gushed over her wedding plans. She often recalled her only senior dance, after she chose dad, as a magical night. If I was actually considering a human boy, I could count on next year’s dances. But, I wasn’t.

  “I don’t know...”

  She took a deep breath, and I knew she was winding up for a long-winded list of persuasive reasons I should go. However, the girl who’d winked at me before class approached, interrupting.

  “Beatriz, one of the office women asked that I fetch you for her.”

  I’d forgotten how creepy the double-voices sounded.

  Beatriz groaned and rushed away. Once she moved out of range, I turned to Morik with a disapproving frown.

  “You know how I feel about using other people.”

  “I apologize. I missed you.”

  Yes, I melted a little.

  “Would you like to go to the dance?” he asked me, the girl’s smooth voice melding with his own deep one.

  Damn if the kid from the cafeteria didn’t walk by just then. The lesbian rumor would flare again for sure.

  “It’s after dark,” I said to Morik. “I don’t think it’ll be safe.”

  “Consider a deal for your safety.”

  I remembered my thoughts about going for what I wanted. We hadn’t heard from Ahgred much in the last few weeks though Morik had said Ahgred waited nearby at night, listening and watching, when he could, through the un-shuttered windows of Morik’s home.

  “What did you have in mind?” I asked.

  “A touch for a night with me.”

  “That doesn’t seem like a fair trade. You can already touch me.”

  He didn’t smile or look away. The grave expression on the girl’s face didn’t make sense to me, but if he really wanted another deal for a touch, I didn’t mind.

  “Fine. A single touch in return for a single night, the night of the dance, with you, Morik,” I said his name just so I wouldn’t be stuck dancing with the girl he currently inhabited.

  He laughed eerily and moved quickly to cup my cheek. A burn ignited at the base of my spine and scorched upward. A scream tore from my mouth, raspy, desperate, and full of pain. It stopped all movement around me.

  The girl smiled triumphantly as her eyes flashed glowing green. She dropped her hand, and the sensation of being branded stopped. I panted to catch my breath. The pain lingered unlike each time before.

  What had I done? How could I have mistaken Ahgred for Morik?

  The girl’s stance deflated, and she burst into tears. Ignoring my own pain, I focused on her, aware of everyone’s attention. I couldn’t have another Clavin or Brian on my hands.

  “Oh my God, what was that?” she sobbed.

  “It’ll be okay.”

  I grabbed her by the arm and steered her through a gawking crowd to the nearest girl’s bathroom. The bell rang as I pushed through the door. I eyed the empty stalls while she cried. Someone was bound to tell a teacher. I didn’t have much time.

  “Morik!” I called softly. He appeared in front of me, and the girl began crying harder. “I don’t have much time,” I said in a rush. “I accidentally made a deal with Ahgred—I’ll tell you about it later. Right now, I need to make a deal to wipe her memory of it.” I nodded to the sobbing girl, who, when hearing my plan, made a beeline for the door.

  Morik disappeared, and the girl abruptly stopped moving.

  “What deal?” they asked in a single discordant voice.

  “Ahgred cannot use any more humans during the day to interact with me or watch me. And I want any memory of him wiped from her.”

  “The price will be steep.”

  “How steep?”

  “It must have value to you,” they said.

  I already knew that, but having him say it again made me nervous. “What is it, Morik? What’s the price?”

  “Your family’s chant. You must abide by it regardless of where you sleep until you turn seventeen.”

  My freedom. The key to spending more time with him. Would I have enough time to choose him without it?

  “Not until seventeen. A week before my birthday, I want freedom from this deal in case I need to spend more time with you.” Whether out of desperation to make the connection or to say good-bye, I wanted those days.

  “A deal. Their protection for yours un
til a week before you turn seventeen. Your grandmother will come and pick you up shortly.”

  Then he left.

  The girl blinked at me in confusion, and the color drained from her face. She clapped a hand over her mouth and rushed for a toilet. I stayed with her as she emptied her stomach of her breakfast. As expected, a teacher came in to question our lingering presence in the bathroom. My new friend took that moment to heave into the toilet again. Enough said.

  “Let’s get you to the office,” the teacher said. She helped the girl up and led her out. I followed and grabbed my things from my locker on the way.

  A stubborn Beatriz stood in the office, waiting for a hall pass. I’d forgotten Ahgred sent her away. When she saw me with the girl who’d misled her, her eyes narrowed.

  “Ashley! What the heck? Why did you send me down here?”

  Poor Ashley, her skin still horribly tinted green, moaned and shut her eyes as if that would remove Beatriz’s irritation. Bea did a head-to-toe sweep of Ashley then looked at me. I had no doubt I looked pale.

  “She got sick and didn’t want witnesses,” I said, hoping Ashley would go with it. I wondered what she did and didn’t remember. Her reaction to Morik’s tampering made me believe the experience had been less than tolerable.

  Gran strode into the office a few minutes later, looking pale and shaken. No one questioned her when she told me to hurry up and held the door for me. Bea waved good-bye while the rest of the office faculty rushed to get Ashley a wastebasket.

  Outside, Morik waited for us next to Mom’s car. She and Aunt Grace took the new car now, leaving Gran a means of transportation.

  He politely opened the door for Gran and quietly apologized to her. She patted his cheek, a little firmly in my opinion, and said she forgave him.

  “For what?” I asked when he opened my door.

  “My driving.”

  Gran waited until he pulled away from the school before asking for an explanation.

  “Can we talk about it when we get home? I don’t want to distract Morik,” I said. His white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel conflicted with his sedate driving.