A Demon's Kiss (Young Adult Romance)

by Melanie Marks

  I would have definitely left if I had any other ideas where to look for Summer, but I didn’t. I called Sara again and she said if she heard from Summer she’d send her here. So I sat, ordering coke after coke, thinking morbid thoughts.

  Every time I glanced at Gage he was looking at me. He was probably wondering why I was here by myself. We kept making faces at each other from across the room. After a while Addison caught him doing it and scowled. She went on the warpath any time Gage and I got together and started messing around. She was a lunatic. That’s why I didn’t go over and talk to him, or vice versa. She kept him on a pretty tight leash anyway, but since I was here she was basically strangling him.

  Still, at one point he made a quick trip to the DJ, snatching one of my french-fries as he went, then he sat beside me on his way back.

  “Why are you here by yourself?” he asked.

  “Waiting for Summer. Have you seen her?”

  “Nuh-uh. Not tonight, no one’s here.” He grabbed another fry. “You’re going to hang with Summer?” He said it like the thought was too wild to even consider.

  I shrugged. Maybe I’d never hang with Summer again. Maybe no one would. Ever.

  Addison came over and snuggled up with Gage, bringing the scent of expensive perfume. (I hated her, but I had to admit, she smelled good, really good.) Gage absently put his arm around her, something he did automatically, like it was where his arm belonged. The gesture wasn’t even something he thought about, but Addison obviously did. She gave me a catty smile, like: He’s mine. So there! I just took a sip of my coke, pretending I didn’t notice, but yeah, inside I sobbed a little. Only, really, if someone snuggles up to you, it’s only natural to put your arm around them, right?

  Still, she was a total nut case for even thinking I might try to steal Gage from her. She was tall and blond and beautiful. She looked and even smelled like a model. She could have any guy she wanted. I’d never even had a boyfriend—except for slime-ball Seth. And he didn’t count. ‘Cause he wasn’t even human. He had no heart.

  But besides, what Addison didn’t get was, Gage and I were just friends. Buds. We’d always just been friends. Since the third grade. I was his little buddy—his playmate, someone to goof off with. But definitely not someone to snuggle up to or kiss. Gage didn’t even realize I was a girl...until after I saved him. I had to admit things seemed different now. Last night he seemed totally different—it almost seemed he was going to kiss me last night. The memory of that made me suddenly feel warm inside.

  “Would you get me another Coke?” Addison asked Gage. When he trotted off to do her bidding, she turned to me with a snarl, “Why don’t you get a boyfriend of your own, so mine doesn’t have to baby-sit you?”

  I raised my eyebrows. “He doesn’t have to baby-sit me. He doesn’t even have to talk to me.”

  Addison narrowed her eyes, hopping off the barstool. “Look, he may be blind, but I’m not. You hang around everywhere he goes, giving him puppy-dog eyes. You’re pathetic. The only reason he even talks to you is because he feels sorry for you.”

  “Feels sorry for me? Why would he feel sorry for me?”

  She sneered. “Because you’re a skanky loser. Everybody feels sorry for you.”

  Gage came back with Addison’s coke. I thought about making him spill it on her, but couldn’t bring myself to do it. As much as I hated her, I didn’t want him looking like a schmuck. Instead, I focused on her.

  Willing action, I had her stumble over her own feet. In the process she bumped into Gage, spilling the coke he was holding all down the front of her dress. It wasn’t a very realistic move. She was simply standing there, then all the sudden falling. Still, no one questioned it. I guess everyone assumes Addison’s just a klutz around me.

  “Oh, I feel so sorry for you,” I told her, as she steamed about her ruined dress. “Maybe you should practice standing on lower heels.”

  She glared at me. “Shut up, witch.”

  “Hey, geez, both of you stop it,” Gage said.

  Addison shot him daggers with her eyes. “I’m going home.” She stormed off.

  Gage set his jaw, watching her make her way through the crowded building. “I guess I should go after her.”

  “Guess so,” I muttered, though he wasn’t sticking around for my response. He was already half way to the door.

  I watched him go, feeling sort of miserable. I really, really, really wanted to leave. Why did Gage put up with Addison?—she gets mad at everything. Boys are stupid.

  “Hey, Michaela, feeling better?”

  I looked up to see Summer’s ex-boyfriend, Justin. He’s a jerk. And super rich. I guess that’s why he was so impressed with himself. It sure couldn’t be ‘cause he was good lookin’. ‘Cause he wasn’t. Least not to me. But Summer seemed to think he was hot. Come to think of it though, she had really bad taste in guys. Look who she was dating now.… If she was still alive to date.

  I wanted to tell Justin to get lost, but he was already pulling up a chair beside me.

  I gritted my teeth. “Yeah. I guess, I’m feeling better—still highly contagious though.”

  He smiled. “Yeah, mono. That’s the kissing disease, right? You came here to pass it on to me?”

  “Yep. That’s what I came here for—to give you a disease.”

  “Well, okay. Give it to me.” Justin puckered up, purposely looking like an imbecile.

  I snorted a laugh. “You’re such an idiot. I can’t believe my sister ever went out with you.”

  We talked for a while. For some reason the guy liked me. I have no idea why. He told me a couple of stupid jokes, and bought me a coke. At least it killed some time. We even played a game of pool. I kicked his butt. My mind was on death, but I didn’t have to play that terrific. Justin’s really bad.

  “So Summer has a new boyfriend, huh?” Justin asked conversationally, racking up for a second game.

  “Yeah, I guess so. He’s really cool.”

  Obviously, I just said that to make Justin feel bad. He was a total jerk to Summer. I hoped he was jealous that she found someone new. I hoped it caused him severe pain every time he saw them together.

  “Well, that’s good.”

  I blinked. That didn’t exactly go as planned.

  He went on, “I was thinking, maybe now you and I could go out sometime.”

  “No way.”

  I tried making it sound light, like I was halfway kidding. But I wasn’t. At all. He was a turd. Summer and I may not be all that sisterly, or even friendly, but no way would I go out with a guy that treated her the way he did. He treated her like crap. He walked all over her and made her cry all the time, and he was a two-timing slime-ball. He was always trying to pick up on me even while the two of them were still together.

  “No, really,” he said. “I have tickets to—”

  “No, okay? I don’t want to go out with you. Justin, you broke up with my sister. You treated her like garbage. I don’t like you.”

  He looked at me, like: “Who do you think you are talking to me like that?” But he didn’t say anything. Nothing. Instead he just threw his cue on the table and stomped away.

  Ugh! Tonight was a total nightmare. It kept dragging on, getting worse and worse. Just as I was ready to give up and crawl home, Summer showed. Seeing her breeze in eased the knots that had been twisting in my stomach. I could actually breathe without pain.

  I didn’t even care that Summer was turning purple with anger. At least she wasn’t completely blue from being dead.

  “Sara says you’ve been calling, checking up on me. What do you want?”

  I bite my lip. “Nothing. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

  “What’s with you? Ever since you got sick you’ve been a serious freak. I think your fever burned up your brain or something. Why wouldn’t I be okay?”

  Because your new boyfriend could send a lightening bolt down and strike you dead, I wanted to tell her, but I didn’t. Instead I just tried to get her to t
hink. “What do you know about Logan?”

  “I know he’s gorgeous and I like him—not that it’s any of your business.”

  “But where did he come from?”

  “What do you care?” Summer eyed me suspiciously. “Do you like him or something?”

  That almost made me laugh it was so perverse. “No. I think the guy’s weird. I think you should stay away from him.”

  She looked at me like I was a freak. “Why? What do you know about him?”

  “Well . . . nothing. But Summer, what do you know about him? Where does he live? Did you meet his parents?”

  “No, I didn’t meet his parents. We’re not getting married. Michaela, you’re being stupid.”

  “Does he have parents?”

  For a moment Summer looked like she was seriously worried about me. But then she rolled her eyes. “Go see a doctor,” she said. Then she turned and stormed away.

  CHAPTER 23

  Summer stormed out of Pikes with Sara at her heels and Logan nowhere in sight, so I figured she was safe...at least for the night. My babysitting complete, I headed for home. I felt week and tired and outrageously scared. I shouldn’t have wasted my powers on Addison, of course. That had been stupid. I was already feeling the after-effects and it wasn’t even midnight. I should have physically thrown the coke at her. If it was that important. Which it wasn’t. I had a guy chasing my very soul and I wasted my powers on a Barbie doll.

  Okay, this was weird—walking home I suddenly got an overpowering urge to turn around and go to the docks. I didn’t do it though. Duh. Going there this time of night would be crazy. Any time would be crazy. Loonies hang out at the docks. Still, the impulse was almost overwhelming. I could barely fight it off.

  At the most, I got a block away from Pikes when the impulse began to burn, sizzle. Within a few steps, it was like my brain was on fire. The message: Go find Logan was hurled into every fiber of my being. It was the only conscious thought I was able to grasp through the burning blaze. I knew what I had to do, go down to the docks and find him. But I really, really, really, REALLY didn’t want to. Still, the pain was too intense. There was no way I could resist. Every step I took towards the docks eased the pain, but even a slight turning of my head in the opposite direction hurled me into a fit of unbearable agony. Soon, I was running for the docks. My only conscious thought: Find Logan and end the pain.

  Somehow he was able to lead me around like a puppet. He guided me through the maze of unfamiliar streets, down to the harbor. Once I reached him, out of breath and shaking, he stepped out of the shadows and I got a glimpse of his face. He looked discouraged, not gloating like I thought he would.

  “Why do you fight me so much?” he asked. “Why couldn’t you just come without me having to hurt you?”

  I didn’t really know what to say. If he hadn’t practically burned my head off I would have never come, not in a thousand years. But that didn’t seem like a smart thing to tell him.

  “Look, you wanted me here—I’m here. What do you want?”

  “I want to talk.” He stared into my eyes. “Just talk.”

  I bit my lip, like I had a choice. “Okay—talk.”

  “Come with me.”

  He lead me down the pier, to a boat called “Michaela.” My stomach did a little lurch thing. Huh? Why would he call it that? I didn’t want to go on the boat, no way. This was all too creepy, too bizarre. Why would he name his boat after me? Why would he name anything after me? What was going on?

  “Come on,” he said, reaching for my arm.

  I backed away from his grasp, but I climbed up on the boat anyway, like he wanted, figuring he could kill me just as easily out here as inside.

  “You want to look around?” he asked.

  Actually, now I sort of did.

  He sat against the rail. “Go ahead.”

  I looked at him, kind of unsure. “No, really,” he said. “Go ahead. I’ll wait here.”

  I went inside the dimly lit boat. To my surprise, it was warm and cozy, nothing even close to what I expected—not that I know what I expected—voodoo dolls hanging from nooses, I guess. But it was really nice, cool even. It had a tiny little kitchen and a bedroom and everything was made of hardwood and brass. I was surprised, catching myself thinking, I would love a place like this, imagining it would be nice to be cradled to sleep by the ocean, sail away any time I felt like it.

  Soft music wafted down from the deck, leading me back upstairs. Logan was still sitting on the railing, only now he was playing some sort of piped instrument that sounded like a flute, but looked more like a harmonica. The music was somehow familiar to me. It touched my heart, made me want to cry.

  “That’s pretty,” I whispered.

  He stopped playing and looked at me. “You’re pretty,” he said softly.

  I took a step away from him.

  He watched me, tilting his head. “I didn’t mean to scare you. It’s just that it’s true—you’re pretty.” He got down from the rail. “You get frightened at strange things.”

  “You didn’t scare me. It’s just,” I took a deep breath, “Why are you here? I mean, what do you want?”

  He studied me silently. Finally, he answered, “What do I want?” He stares into my eyes. “I want you. What did I come here for? You already know that, right? I’ve come for you.”

  In a way, yes, I already knew that. From the first moment I saw him I knew he had come to get me. Still, hearing him say it aloud was terrifying. It made my knees buckle.

  I closed my eyes, my heart beating so hard against my chest it hurt. “You came for me?”

  He nodded.

  It was strange to be having this conversation, able to ask the questions that had been haunting my brain. But I was afraid to hear the answers, terrified.

  “Okay, but...why?”

  Nervous-like, Logan ran his hands through his hair. He seemed to be studying me, as though trying to decide if I could handle the truth. The fact he was hesitant about it made me pretty sure I couldn’t. I decided to take the question back. Save it for later—maybe forever.

  “Never mind. I don’t want to know. But since it’s me you’re after—not my sister—would you do me a favor and leave her out of it? I mean just stay away from her?”

  “Stay away from your sister?” He smiled, like he found the request amusing. “Why do you call her your sister?”

  “She is my sister.” Then I got it. “Well, my half sister.”

  He grinned. “Yeah, but not the half that matters.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked, but I kind of already knew. At least I was pretty sure I knew. My mom was a witch...or something. She died when I was seven. I think she had magical powers and I think she put some sort of love spell on my dad. I wasn’t exactly certain of any of this. I mean, it wasn’t anything I’d ever discussed with anyone. But when I was young I used to hear Beth and my father talking when they thought I was asleep. The things they said kind of gave me that impression.

  Logan studied me. “How much do you know, Michaela?”

  “About what?”

  “About you,” he said, making my stomach sway. “About where you come from. About me.” He stared into my eyes searchingly. “Do you remember anything about me?”

  “You? Did I used to know you?”

  For some reason my question made him look sad. “Yeah,” he said somberly. “You used to know me.”

  He stared out in the ocean with pain in his eyes. I had no clue what to say. I didn’t mean to hurt his feelings. I didn’t know I could hurt his feelings. Until this minute, I’d only thought of him as a monster.

  “I’m sorry,” I mumbled. “Look, I don’t remember anything about my childhood. It’s nothing against you. I don’t even remember my mom—not the way she looked or smelled or anything. It’s like I have a memory block or something.”

  For a long while we just sat, thoughtful in the darkness, listening to the noises of the night, listening to the ocean. “Okay,” Logan sa
id, breaking the silence. “I’m going to tell you some stuff. But, I don’t know, some of it might spook you.” He ran his hands through his hair, seeming frustrated. “I don’t even know where to start.” He wet his lips. It was a long time before he went on. “See, Michaela, you were promised to me. We took an oath—both of us. Do you remember that?”

  I shook my head, pursing my lips to stop them from quivering.

  “Yeah.” He looked thoughtful. “That’s weird. I mean, it was a long time ago—we were just kids—but it’s weird you can’t remember.” He was silent for a moment, then he went on, sounding reflective, “I totally remember it—I have dreams about it.”

  I hid my hands behind my back so he couldn’t see them shaking. I didn’t want to start hurting his feelings again, but he was making me nauseous. Cautiously, I asked, “What do you mean I was promised to you? I promised to marry you, or what?”

  “Promised to marry me?” He looked pensive. “Yeah, kind of. But it’s more than that. There was a ceremony. We took oaths—we drank each other’s blood. It’s like we became part of each other. Well, you became a part of me. I guess I didn’t become part of you. But see, I was supposed to. That was what the ceremony was all about—becoming connected.”

  Yuck. The whole thing sounded horrible and psychotic. And he was crazy. The way he’s talking about it, it was as though he thought the whole thing was beautiful, a wonderful experience. Something we should feel honored to have been a part of.

  I chewed on my lip a while, wondering how to ask my questions without seeming terrified. “Adults were at this ceremony? They let us do this?”

  He looked at me as though I was mentally slow. “Yeah, adults were there. Everyone was there. See, it wasn’t just a ceremony to promise ourselves to each other—we were promising ourselves to the Caldronon too . . . taking an oath. You don’t remember the oaths, or the Caldronon, or anything?”

  Trembling, I shook my head. This was spooky scary. I didn’t want to hear about Caldronons and oaths and drinking blood. Things like that reminded me of my nightmares. They terrified me.