“The dagger you summoned last night is called a Demon Dagger,” he said. “You’re a chosen vessel with the divine ability to destroy Demons. I knew what you were the moment you saw me through that restaurant window. Only a true Demon Slayer has the eyes to see a Demonic spirit without making a Deal.”
I blinked, hoping that this delusional explanation would suddenly make sense. Like. It would just turn into a conversation about the weather or something. It didn’t. So I responded the only way I knew how.
“You’re shitting me.”
“Nope.”
“You’re not shitting me.”
“Yep.”
“What am I supposed to say to something like that?”
“Um. Say you’ll do it? That’s what I’m leaning towards.”
“I don’t even know how to kill a spider! And you expect me to slay Demons?”
“I’m not asking you to hunt Demons today. I’m asking you to create a list of suspects. Any students or teachers who seem slightly suspicious. Believe me. Amon aside, Demons are very reserved and strategic thinkers. It’s always a game of chess for us. We’ve got to move our pawns before the game really starts. We always size up our opponents before we attack.”
“Lovely. So I’m your pawn, huh?”
“No.” Dante’s face was dead serious. “I’m moving the queen early.”
Fuck chess.
“Great,” I said. “Anything else you want me to do?”
“Well, since you asked, it’d be nice if you got us invited to a party this weekend.”
“Listen, smartass, if you’re not going to be serious—”
“Miss! Sassy! Pants!” Dante exclaimed. “Chill the hell out, okay? I am totally serious about this party thing. Parties bring teenagers. Teenagers bring Demonic spirits. I know. I am one. What can I say? Partying is contagious.”
“You’re a Demon,” I said rather stupidly. When Dante cocked his head with a mixture of confusion and amusement, I quickly added, “I mean…why are you helping me? A Demon? Helping…a Demon Slayer? It doesn’t make sense.”
Dante sauntered down the entryway steps. “Let’s just say that not all Demons are buddy-buddy. Amon and the other Demons here…I used to be close to them. Then they left me for dead.”
I definitely wasn’t expecting that. For the first time, something crossed Dante’s face. Pain? Fear? Anger? I didn’t know what it was, but it was something big and apparently buried deep. He quickly blinked it away, refixing his gaze on me. Emotionless. Humorless.
“I’m different now,” said Dante. “I’m not like them anymore. And I will do anything it takes to destroy them.”
This kept getting weirder and weirder. Revenge? This whole thing about revenge?
“Anything,” said Dante. “Just as I’m sure you’ll do whatever it takes to protect your brother.”
Dammit. He just had to play that card. My lips pressed into a hard, straight line. I swallowed against the knot in my throat.
“Okay. I’ll do it. But under one condition.”
“Which is…?”
“After school. You explain everything. And I mean everything.”
Dante smiled. Not a devious smile or even his usual sarcastic smile. He extended his right hand—the same one we had mixed blood with—and locked it with mine.
“Deal.”
8
The Unusual Suspects
It was weird.
I had grown up my entire life in Villeneuve. The past two and a half years of my life had been spent in this high school. Yet, as I walked down these familiar halls, I couldn’t help but notice the small insignificant details. Things I had seen a million times. Sneaker-scuffed tile floors. Long rows of dented and paint-chipped lockers. Gleaming display cases, illuminating plaques and trophies. Hanging banners flaunting the red and black school colors.
Why did this suddenly feel like that inevitably shitty First Day of School that known universe revolved around?
The crowds of students in the hallways dwindled, hinting that the bell was about to ring. I shifted from power-walk to jog to run to GO, MOTHERFUCKER, GO! I made it into Geometry just as the bell screamed its obnoxious tardy war-cry.
“Cutting it a little close, aren’t we, Miss Binsfeld?”
Mr. Garrison, asshole-extraordinaire, eyed me impatiently through his coke-bottle glasses. A dry-erase marker was already in his hand, pressed against the white board.
“Yeah, sorry,” I said. My voice was an incoherent mumble. I pretended to be invisible and shuffled to my seat.
Mr. Garrison proceeded to outline the formula of an unfriendly equation, explaining each step in some incomprehensible numerical language that only math teachers and conspiracy theorists speak. Something about isosceles trapezoids that I was bound to use repeatedly and treasure throughout the course of my life. I attempted to pay attention to his lecture for about fifteen seconds. Then I remembered that math is bullshit.
It took some self-reminding to get myself back on track. This wasn’t the time for math. Math could go suck a perpendicular bisector. Today I had a new subject.
Though my mechanical pencil was still hovering over my notebook, I leaned back and soaked in the students around me. I scoured from left to right. Sorted through the students I knew, the students I only knew of, and, of course, the students that I knew absolutely nothing about.
After a half hour of studying my classmates, I decided they were about as paranormal as someone wearing a bed sheet with eye-holes cut out.
I eventually surrendered to Mr. Garrison’s lecture, absently copying down notes. My mind continued to wander, but at least I wasn’t racking my brain over something that wasn’t there.
Here were all TWO of the classmates I knew:
Levi. He was on the student council with me. He also happened to be the school photographer. The kid was a photophile. Seriously. He probably slept with a camera. I’d never seen him without one, whether it was his ridiculously tiny travel-size digital or sported a lens the size of a bazooka. He was kinda cute with his curly brown hair and smiley outgoing personality. But shit, let’s be honest. He was weird.
But Demon-weird? I seriously doubted it.
The other classmate I knew was Kelly, who sat beside me. She liked to talk. A lot. More than ten Zoeys combined, and that’s saying something very disturbing about the capacity of human vocal chords. And, apparently, she’s always been under the impression that I like to listen. As the bell rang for class to end, she began babbling about some new kid in our class with dreamy eyes and long black hair. My attention span in this one-sided conversation lasted even less than the few minutes I had devoted to Mr. Garrison’s lecture.
Spanish and then Chemistry followed a similar pattern—blatantly boring without the slightest hint of irregularity. Which included the twins, Lucy and Lilith Hartley, doing their usual thing—texting back and forth, making googly eyes with boys, and making comments in class mostly for the sake of oh look at me! I’m so fucking pretty! Tee hee hee!
Good thing I’m not bitter or anything
But fuck. Both of the Hartley sisters easily tied as the most gorgeous and popular girls in Villeneuve High. Which was a little bit strange because, aside from their identical, blonde Barbie faces, they were absolutely nothing alike.
Lucy was Class President and officiated in our Student Council meetings. There was no doubt she would make Student Body President by her senior year. She was smart, sophisticated, and could have pretty much have any guy in school she wanted.
Which was different than Lilith who did have every guy that she wanted. Lilith was a cheerleader, but she was known by many other titles. Let’s just say that she was really good friends with the football team. Like. All of them. And it didn’t stop there. Oh no. There were plenty of rumors circulating around that she was just as friendly with several of the other c
heerleaders. And because of her sister, she was also on the Student Council. Which actually wasn’t too bad because she would spend the entire time reapplying her make-up while her sister did all of the talking. Those times when she did feel the need to make a contribution…? Good god. Chinese water torture, you have met your match.
As I continued to scan the lab room, it was impossible not to notice Lilith seductively licking her glossy lips at some guy I didn’t recognize. Apparently she didn’t understand the context of “chemistry” in this class. Fuck. The puns, the puns!
I’d never been so excited for the lunch bell to ring. But not for food. I was already sick to my stomach. I just needed a break from playing spy. As I made my way to the cafeteria, I immediately spotted Zoey flagging me down.
“You look exhausted,” said Zoey, frowning. “I still can’t believe you came to school after last night.”
“Yeah,” I grumbled. “Me either.”
Moving with the flow of human traffic (well…human as far as I could tell), we spilled out into the open cafeteria. Light gleamed through the wall-expansive windows. After straining my eyes for so long, spying on bored students, I was ready to pop those round, squishy, optical bastards out of my eye-sockets and soak them in Epsom salt.
This stupid Demon search was beginning to feel like a rehash of my eight-year-old Where’s Waldo binge days. Only Demons apparently wore better disguises than red and white striped shirts and beanies. It didn’t matter that I was in complete zombie mode at this point. Zoey always took the lead, forcing us on a direct route through the cafeteria line and back to our usual seats. I stared down at my processed chicken and mashed potatoes.
Nope. Not even a little bit hungry.
“You don’t look so good,” said Zoey.
“I’m fine. Just a little…I dunno. I’m fine.”
Meeting Zoey’s gaze, I was only reminded of what Dante had said about her. That she wasn’t human. At least, not completely. So then what was she? I glanced past Zoey, observing the endless rows of students behind her. Just one pathetic glance at this sight and I came to two immediate conclusions.
One: There was no way I could find all these Demons on my own.
Two: Whether Zoey was human or not, I still trusted her. At least I knew she wasn’t a Demon, right? That was more than I could say about everyone else.
“Can I ask you a question?” I said.
Zoey brushed her black and blue bangs aside, only mildly curious. “Yeah, babe, what is it?”
I decided that only a little truth was necessary at the moment. I took a deep breath, all while forcing a half-teasing expression. “If someone here at school was a monster, who do you think it would be?”
My execution was perfect. It sounded exactly like the sort of random, half-baked question Zoey asked all the time.
“A monster?” Zoey cocked her head slightly. “Girl, what scary movie have you been watching?”
“You don’t want to know,” I said. The truth was that my life was currently a John Carpenter/Wes Craven Frappuccino. Screw movies. I was living it. “So? Whaddaya think?”
“Shush, I’m thinking,” said Zoey. Her eyes rolled up in the deepest of thought, and then her face lit up. “Ooh, I know! Bubba!”
“Bubba?” I said. I knew it was too much to expect a serious answer from her. Not that such a question deserved a serious answer. Oh well. There was no turning back now. “Who the hell is Bubba?”
“Bubba the janitor, duh,” said Zoey. She had a gift for making obscure information seem like it should be common knowledge. “Come on. You don’t know Bubba?”
“Uh…sorry, I didn’t know the janitor’s closet was the new thing.”
“But it’s Bubba!” said Zoey. As she did so, her eyes flicked to the side. “There! Bubba!” Boosting herself up, she pointed a black fingernail across the cafeteria. I followed her finger and immediately spotted the accused.
He was impossible to miss.
Pushing a yellow mop bucket across the cafeteria was the largest human being in the history of ever. Not only was he taller than everyone else, but he was also obscenely obese. I don’t think it would be exaggerating to assume this man weighed well over three hundred pounds. His curly dark hair extended to thick mutton-chop sideburns across his round face. It certainly didn’t help his image that he was eating a Twinkie with his free hand.
I actually had seen him around the school on occasion, pushing his cleaning cart around. But I guess I had never taken the time to compare him in size to everyone else. The sight was just a little disconcerting. I could definitely see how Zoey jumped to her monster conclusion so quickly. Not that I automatically assumed Bubba was a Demon. But hell if he wasn’t the strangest thing I’d seen all morning.
“What do you know about him?” I asked.
Despite my ingenuous tone, Zoey shot me a weird look. My tone had obviously not softened such a brash question. “You’re acting really weird today, you know that?”
My face flushed, most likely matching my hair. Way to step out of character, Monica. I opened my mouth for some sort of recovery. Um. Uh. Er. Nope. Nothing.
Zoey’s expression softened. “I’m sorry, that was mean. I know you had bad night. I don’t know why I said that.”
“It’s okay,” I said. I took the moment to take a big fat breath and pull myself the fuck back together. “I am acting weird. I don’t know what’s gotten into me.”
“Well, I think everyone’s allowed to act a little crazy after a bear attack,” said Zoey. She smiled and cast a casual glance across the cafeteria at Bubba. He finished his Twinkie and was now unwrapping another one. “All I know about Bubba is what I see. The dude is the size of a baby whale, and he never stops eating. I mean never. It’s like the guy can’t function if he’s not shoving shit in his mouth.”
Sounded suspicious enough for me.
“How long has he worked here?” I asked.
Zoey shrugged. “No clue. He’s been janitor as long as I’ve been here.”
“Interesting,” said a male voice.
Both Zoey and I turned with a slight start. Our gazes refocused to a handsome boy with long midnight hair stepping beside me. His gaze met mine with piercing golden eyes, inhumanly vibrant and animal-like.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said. He offered a sly grin. “I just think it’s amusing to see two beautiful girls checking out the school janitor.”
If it hadn’t been for my class spying, I never would have recognized him. But as it was, I made two instant mental connections. In Chemistry, Lillith Hartley had been flirting with some guy that I hadn’t recognized before.
This guy.
And then Kelly…she had been gushing about some new boy in geometry with dreamy eyes and long black hair. Her babbling suddenly pieced together in my mind.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see that Zoey was completely captivated. Like, this guy’s eyes were the fucking English Channel, and she was swimming it. And this was why I could never take Zoey’s crush on my brother seriously. Any boy that spelled tall, dark, and handsome and it was game over.
“Who are you?” I asked, almost accusingly. Although I had been oblivious to him in class, something in his smile made me very uncomfortable now.
His smile grew wider, eyes glowing. “I’m new here. My name is Amon.”
9
The Invitation
My blood froze to ice in my veins. My body went completely stiff, and I suddenly forgot how to breathe.
Well fuckety fuck.
“Yes, you remember me,” said Amon. “You were just at my house the other day. Came to pick up your brother, remember?”
Zoey glanced curiously between my frozen expression and Amon’s all-knowing smirk. “You’re friends with Casey?”
“Oh yeah, we go way back,” he said. “Although I was origina
lly friends with Cate. He was lucky to have a girl like her. I pride myself in my taste in girls, and she was a real treat.”
Wow, could this asshole be any more obvious? Punny bastard. There was a slobbering hunger in his eyes. Amon was toying with me. He took another step forward and casually sat down next to me. I recoiled my arm.
“What do you want?” I asked. My voice had melted from icy to slush. Would he attack me here? In front of the entire student body? I doubted it, but that didn’t make it any less terrifying.
“Well, like I said, I’m new here. I just want to get to know everyone. I’m actually throwing a party tomorrow night. You two are invited. The whole school will be there, so you should definitely come.”
Zoey shot me a wary glance. She was never one to turn down a party invite, but she had clearly detected my uneasiness like fuck on a porn star.
“My parents are out of town, so I’ve got the whole place to myself,” he continued, filling the silence. He turned to Zoey. “Do you know Hexham Manor?”
I was already in too much of a state of shock to react. Zoey, however, freaked. “Hexham Hell House?”
Amon chuckled and shrugged. “I guess some people call it that. I can promise you it’s not haunted though. I’ve been living there a couple days, and it’s just your average boring old house.”
Hexham Manor was anything but your average boring old house. The place was practically almost a mansion and had a reputation on par with the Saint Salazar Cemetery. A decade and a half ago, the last family to live there was murdered. Ever since, generations of teenagers have snuck into the place on dares. It wasn’t until the past couple years that police began patrolling the place on occasion to keep kids and druggies out. Since then, the place had become an urban legend.
But that wasn’t scary. Not when a werewolf/Demon was sitting next to me, teasing me with hidden threats, and inviting me to his Saturday night party.
“So you two coming?” he asked. His animal eyes narrowed on me. “Come on, Monica. Every party needs a fiery redhead.”
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