Dealing with the Devil (The Earthwalker Trilogy Book 1)

by Siddoway, Jennifer

Three chains, one for each of the different realms — all intertwined and working together to form something beautiful. I assumed the seven crystals were for each of the Demon Lords and subsequently the trials I would face. It was a bitter reminder of the new world that lay waiting for me once I stepped outside. Nate would still be glowing, and that didn’t even take into account what would happen once I got to school.

  Looking down at my hands, I realized they were both clenched tightly into fists and I had to consciously release them. My hair was going to be impossible, so I plaited a couple braids into it and pulled the rest of it back into a ponytail. With one last glance in the mirror, I squared my shoulders with weary resolve and stepped out into the hallway.

  There was music coming from somewhere down the hall as I rounded the corner at the bottom of the stairs. Dad was sitting at the kitchen table and was surrounded by the same green mist as Nate, just as I had feared. He had the morning paper in his hand and was sipping a mug of coffee when he greeted my arrival, “Morning, sleepy-head. You're getting up awfully late, are you feeling any better?”

  “Er, yeah,” I responded a little flustered. “Good morning to you, too.”

  “I thought you were getting sick,” he added, turning the page to follow the article he was reading. “Are you sure you're all right for school?”

  “Yeah, it must have just been a bug.”

  He just nodded in response and took another sip of coffee as Nathan whizzed past me in the kitchen, still surrounded in the same pale, unearthly green. “Okay, well I'm glad you're feeling better,” Dad continued. “Let me know if you start feeling sick again and I'll come get you. I don't want you pushing yourself and making it worse.”

  I gawked openly at the two of them as Nate poured himself a drink and a slow, bemused smile started creeping across my face. All my life I wondered if the rest of the world was seeing through their eyes what I could see through mine, and now for the first time ever, I knew they weren't. For once, I wasn't just imagining that I was different, I was.

  Slowly, I stepped over to the pantry and retrieved a box of cereal before joining him at the table.

  “You're sure that you're all right?” Dad asked, gesturing for me to sit.

  I laughed nervously at his observation and offered the only excuse that I could muster. “I’m still waking up.”

  Nate joined us as the table with his cup in hand and added, “You missed a great show last night. Though it was almost ruined by dork-face calling in the middle of it.”

  “Ryan called?” I asked through a mouthful of cornflakes. “Crap, I was supposed to call him about rehearsal. Why didn't you come get me?”

  Dad grimaced at my bad table manners and answered the question for him, “Because it was almost eleven-thirty and I didn't think it was appropriate for him to be calling you that late. If you're worried about it, then apologize when he gets here.”

  “I don't understand why we don't block his calls to begin with,” Nate mumbled to himself.

  I whirled on him and snapped, “What’s your problem with Ryan? Do you want to walk to school? Because I have no problem asking him to leave you.”

  Our father turned at the threat and growled, “Wynn!”

  It was a low blow to threaten him like that and we all knew it. Nate had a target painted on his back since the day we entered middle school. He was tall and lanky, but too proud to back down from the regular teasing that came from our Romani heritage. The fights were a chronic problem and before we’d started carpooling everywhere, he was getting nearly pummeled to death each week. The adults in the community were just as prejudiced against us as their kids were, so the administration turned a blind eye to any complaint my parents filed and claimed that he had been the instigator. We all knew that it was rubbish, but they didn’t want to get their hands dirty so we had to sort it out ourselves.

  Nate finished his bite of Pop-tart and rolled his eyes at me. “Okay, I get your point, but next time at least have him call your cell.”

  “Fine.”

  I relaxed slightly and settled back into my seat before taking another bite of my cereal.

  When I had finished, I threw the empty bowl in the sink and ran off down the hall. The floorboards creaked nosily beneath my feet as I ascended the stairs to my room. When I made it to my closet my hands danced over the hangers until I found what I was looking for. Denim … plaid … ah! Leather, here we go! I yanked the jacket off its hanger and shrugged into the sleeves. In one of the pockets, I found a forgotten pair of sunglasses and eyed them curiously for a moment until my thoughts were interrupted by a car horn blaring outside.

  “Nathan! Wynn! Your ride is here!”

  I quickly threw the glasses on and tossed the bag over my shoulder before hurrying down the stairs. “Coming!”

  Dad didn’t comment on my new accessory, but reminded me to call him if I started feeling ill. I pulled out the rainbow scarf stuffed in the top of my bag as I walked out the drive to Ryan’s Buick. It wasn’t really cold enough to warrant wearing a scarf, but Elyse had knit it for me and I absolutely loved it. Despite looking awful and clashing with everything, including itself, it was one of my all-time favorite pieces in my wardrobe.

  Ryan was waiting patiently in his car when the two of us arrived, listening to the White Stripes like he always did. Nate made his regular beeline for the back and climbed in without a fight because he knew trying to kick me out of shotgun would probably result in blood.

  “Morning, sunshine,” Ryan greeted with a smile. I grunted in response, climbed into the seat beside him, and threw my bag down on the floor. He watched me with amusement as I buckled myself in with an unusual degree of difficulty. “Long night?” he asked me innocently.

  I laughed dryly and laid my head against the window. “Something like that.”

  “What's with the shades?”

  “I’ve got a headache! Look, can you just drive? I don't feel like playing twenty questions.”

  It came out harsher than I intended and the hurt was evident in his eyes. He looked back at Nate inquisitively.

  Nathan shrugged and pulled out his headphones. “Don't look at me, she's been acting weird all morning.”

  I cast him a murderous glare through the rear view mirror and slumped down into my seat. On the upside, at least the sunglasses seemed to be serving their purpose — I could barely make out the glow surrounding my companions. I gave myself a mental pat on the back for that unexpected stroke of genius as Ryan backed the car out of the driveway and pulled out into the street.

  A few blocks later I turned to him in apology and tried to smooth out my earlier outburst. “Sorry, I missed your call last night,” I told him softly.

  He glanced at me sideways while he drove and smiled, “That’s okay, it sounds like you had a hectic evening.”

  “You have no idea.”

  We both laughed as he turned his attention to the road ahead and started telling me about rehearsal. It was interesting to hear about all the things that were going on backstage and the showmances that had sprung up through the course of rehearsal. Lacey, the stage manager, was anxious to get the backstage crew in regular attendance and have the extra hands to help out with scene changes. I wasn’t sure where she’d assign me, but that was the least of my worries. Nathan ignored us entirely and stared out the window behind us.

  Ten minutes later we pulled into Ryan’s spot at the far end of the senior parking lot.

  Most people would have considered that an inconvenience, but I enjoyed the privacy it allowed. Other students filtered through the lot as he put the car in park and I gathered my things. The crowd was muted into a gray mass through the filter of my sunglasses rather than a kaleidoscopic fog.

  Nate let himself out the back as I mentally prepared myself for a day of acting normal, the opposite of what my life was shaping up to be.

  “Thanks, guys. I’ll see you later.”

  He ran off toward the computer lab as Ryan and I trudged away to the Foreign
Language hall. Ryan left me at my classroom and went to grab a book out of his locker. I thanked him again for the ride and went to take my seat inside.

  Courtney Thomas sat in her regular chair beside me, running through some flash cards before class started. Her sleek blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail and secured with an additional headband that always matched her shirt.

  She and I had been paired as conversation partners at the beginning of the year and were forced to practice speaking at least three times a week outside of class. It didn’t take long for us to become friends after that, and she joined us regularly at our lunch table where Ryan and I always sat.

  “What's up?” she greeted me with a nod and set her cards down on the table. I was too busy frantically searching through my bag for a pencil to respond. My fruitless search became increasingly erratic as I looked down over the ridge of my sunglasses and moved from one compartment to another, causing some whispering from the seats behind us. Courtney turned sideways in her seat and leaned across the aisle wide eyed. “Are you high?”

  I dropped the pencil I'd finally found and stared at her in surprise. “What?”

  “You’re acting … weird.”

  Before I could open my mouth to explain myself, Monsieur Warner entered the classroom and Jeff Atkins raised his hand. “Excusez-moi Monsieur, but has the school policy changed regarding sunglasses? Because Wynn seems to think that they no longer apply to her.”

  I turned around in my seat to glare at him. “Shut up, Jeff!”

  Monsieur Warner set his manual on the desk in front of him and looked up over the rim of his glasses. He was a short, balding man with liver spots on the back of his hands and thick, coke-bottle glasses. Normally, it’s hilarious to watch him try and conduct a class full of rambunctious teenagers because no one took him seriously, but right now he was in a position to make my life quite difficult so I didn't feel like laughing. “Je très désolé, Mademoiselle Hendricks, Monsieur Atkins est correcte. Please take them off.”

  Merde, I swore to myself quietly.

  Everyone looked at me expectantly while I sank a little deeper in my seat and stared at the desk in front of me. “I can't.”

  “Pardon?” the teacher challenged. There were a couple whispers from my neighbors, but I ignored them.

  “I … I can't,” I repeated softly. “The lights are giving me a headache.”

  The short, portly man crossed his arms in front of his chest and walked towards me. I shied away from the unwanted attention and sank deeper in my chair, glancing nervously from side to side.

  “Then I suggest you take it up with the school nurse. While you are in my classroom, unless you have a doctor’s note, I insist you follow the rules just like everybody else.”

  Begrudgingly, I removed the pair of sunglasses and set them on my desk only to be blinded by the sudden burst of color as their auras became visible. Everyone around me was lit up like a light bulb — each one of them painfully distinct and impossible to ignore.

  It was more than an assault on my senses, they looked… appetizing. That doesn’t even make sense! I scolded myself internally, but conceded the fact that I was irrationally drawn to them.

  As Monsieur Warner resumed his lesson, I made sure to keep my eyes glued to the paper in front of me so I wouldn't be distracted by the jade-green aura following him around the classroom. It was a list of new vocabulary words and their proper conjugation, but I wasn't really interested in learning any of them. My thoughts were a million miles away.

  When the bell rang ending class, I snapped my folder closed and jumped out of my seat before Courtney had the chance to ambush me. She would probably want to gush about her plans for the weekend or follow up on my bad behavior, but I had no desire to sit and chat about idle gossip.

  I made it out the door and began to thread my way down the crowded hall, trying not to dwell on the colors of passing students any more than I had to.

  Every now and then I thought about retreating behind the sunglasses, but that was only a temporary fix. I knew that I’d have to get used to them eventually, so I decided just to face it.

  I was headed to my next class when a dark figure stepped out in front of me. I skidded to a halt just in time and apologized profusely, “Oh, excuse me! I'm so sorry—”

  “That's all right, I've been expecting you.”

  The familiar voice made my blood turn cold. I looked up from my book and found myself standing face to face with Aidan. He was just as dark and imposing as I remembered, but now he was dressed in a charcoal grey suit and tie, tailored to fit him perfectly. His bleach white hair was hidden beneath a matching grey fedora and curled back just above his ear. I hadn’t realized in our previous encounter that one of them was pierced and had a tiny, silver hoop dangling from its lobe.

  My fellow students continued to buzz past as I stared at him dumbly for a moment without knowing what to say. “You can't be here,” I blurted out, clutching the books tightly to my chest. “People will see you.”

  “I don't like your tone,” he answered coolly. “And I wouldn't worry about them — the only person who can see me for the moment is you.”

  “What do you want, Lucifer?” I asked him stubbornly, attempting a more casual stance so it didn’t look like I was having a conversation with myself. People already called me a freak and I didn’t want to give them any more ammunition than they already had.

  “I hate that name,” he responded crispy.

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s the name my father gave me — long story. I change it every few decades to whatever I'm fond of at the time. I thought I told you to call me Aidan, it’s more congenial don’t you think? I came to let you know that your first test will be administered by the end of the month, and contrary to whatever you may think, I need you to do well — which is why I think it’s prudent that you and I start training.”

  I scoffed, moving down the hall to a hidden corridor and turning to facing him straight on. “Train with you? Yeah, I don't think that's going to happen.”

  Aidan clicked his tongue in disapproval and decided to change his tactic, putting on his most alluring smile and taking a step away from me. “Perhaps we got off on the wrong foot,” he responded in a seductive purr. “Why don't we start over?”

  “Not a chance.”

  Aidan's eyes narrowed infinitesimally as he looked me over slowly. “The next time you see Caleb, let him know that I didn't spend the last two decades planning my revenge to let him rip that out from under me. If he interferes again, I will see to it personally that it's the last thing he ever does.”

  I stood my ground and did my best attempt to sound threatening, “I think you should leave.”

  Our death stare was interrupted by the school bell ringing loudly against the wall to announce the start of another class. Aidan didn't bat an eyelash as I scowled at him defiantly.

  “Fine, I’ll tell him. You’d better get to class then,” he told me in a sing-song manner, shooing me away with his hand.

  I took a few steps in the opposite direction and watched as he disappeared in a burst of flame. I turned back on my heel and ran off down the hall as fast as I could without ever looking back.

  ~ * ~

  Three hours later I was laying on my back, finishing the last of my cherry coke beneath the bleachers of the track field. Ryan and I discovered the nice hiding space our freshman year and had been using it as our bug-out spot ever since. Gym class usually took place there, so I contented myself with people-watching and began to doodle in my notebook. Seeing the rainbow of color from a distance, it was easier to appreciate the magnificence of the auras when I wasn’t drowning in them, and they really were beautiful in a way. I didn’t like thinking there was truth in what the Elders said, but my new-found vision felt natural in a way. Like this is how I was always meant to see and I’d finally been given glasses.

  I was about to take a bite from the apple I’d found at the bottom of my bag when there was
some rustling in the chain link fence. Turning at the sound of an intruder, I found Ryan climbing through the gate after tossing his bag inside. I flinched at the sight of his yellow aura, it was like a beckon calling out to me — even he had not been spared the curse of my newfound vision.

  “Hey there,” he greeted cautiously. “You weren’t in Physics, so I decided to come and find you.”

  I laughed humorlessly and took another swig of my drink. “Excellent, now I’m a corrupting influence. What else is new?”

  Ryan knew me better than anyone, he knew my ups and downs, he could even tell when I was lying. I hated that he knew me so well, except I didn’t hate it, I actually loved that about him. The only time it became a problem was when he wouldn’t just let an issue drop.

  “What are you doing here?” he prodded. “Usually we only come here when one of us is bummed.”

  “Stuff happens,” I muttered dryly.

  Ryan hummed in agreement and pulled a stick of gum from his bag. “Would this have anything to do with your mom?” he asked me coyly.

  I nearly choked on the drink in my mouth and ended up spitting out the rest. “Where did that come from?”

  “Nate told me.”

  I cleared my throat, remembering that he really had heard the commotion in my room last night and set my can on the ground. “What did he say?”

  Ryan leaned back against the fence and shrugged. “Nothing much, just that you've been acting weird ever since you got home from the hospital the other day.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief before saying, “Oh … right … mom. Well, it just kind of sucks you know? Dad said I could stay home today, and in retrospect I probably should have. I just needed a time out, ya know, to wrap my head around it.”

  Even to me, the excuse seemed plausible.

  Ryan's expression softened and I could tell that he was genuinely concerned for my well-being. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

  About my mother having an affair with a Lord of Hell? I thought to myself drearily. About me being secretly a demon and having to fight for the right to live? I don’t see that conversation turning out well.