Almost Demon (The Sigil Cycle) (13 page)

Ian followed and the elevator closed behind him, leaving no trace of its existence. “Race you.” He pulled at my sleeve and ran through the thicket of trees.

“Hey, no fair.” Clutching my bag to my chest, I set off to catch him.

He wove through the trees at an impressive speed, never once getting caught in the branches. When I got to my back yard, he was already leaning against the wooden beams of the patio, wearing a smirk.

“You going to catch me or what?”

“Count on it.” I raced towards him. He feigned left and I followed. At the last moment, he switched to his right and whirled passed me. My foot slipped on the slick grass. I threw my bag down and used my hands to push myself back up. 

“I’m waiting.” Ian teased from ten feet away. I ran at him with all the force I could muster only this time he didn’t move and we collided. Our bodies rolled down the hill until we finally came to a stop, with him on top of me. My breath was coming out in fast bursts and my heart was pounding out of my chest.

I don’t think it’s from the exercise
.

I lay still, feeling Ian’s chest against mine. He ran one hand down the side of my body and this time I let him. The flood lamps came on and I groaned. “That must be my dad. He has awful timing.”

“Don’t let him get to you.” 

“I don’t but he’s going to come out here and tear me a new one.”

“Then we should go and get it over with.” He smacked a quick kiss on my lips.

“You don’t have to stay and witness the dysfunction that my family has become.”

“Come on.” He stood up and offered me his hand. We walked back up the lawn and onto the deck where my father was waiting and Ghosty was sitting in his usual spot.

“It’s late,” he barked.

“I know, Dad. Have you met Ian?” 

Could I deflect or what?

“Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Pope.” Ian offered his hand.

“Dr.” My dad answered, leaving Ian’s hand in the air and unwanted.

“I was just walking Gemma back home. She got stuck late at school and I didn’t want her making the trip by herself.”

“Thank you, Ian. I appreciate your concern, but I think it’s time you left.”

“Sure. See you tomorrow, Gemma.” Ian took the hint and left but not without a wave to Ghosty.

“What is your problem?” I said to my dad when we were inside.

“I am tired of you breaking the rules, Gemma,” he said, slamming the glass door behind him so hard I thought it was going to shatter.

“Relax, I’m fine. Ian walked me home.”

“I saw you. You’re a slut, just like your mother.” Spittle lined the edges of his mouth and that’s when I saw the blackness in his eyes. Panic filled my chest. I was living with one of these things now. With my coat still on, I headed to my room.

“What I do is my business,” I yelled back at him, closing the door behind me and barring it with the pink upholstered lounge chair. I turned on the lights and dumped my stuff on top of my already junk-ridden desk. 

There was a series of loud bangs on my door, followed by silence. 

I listened as his dress shoes clicked against the hardwood floor towards the back of the house, where the master bedroom was. When I heard his door shut, I let out a breath and began peeling away the layers of damp clothing. The dirty laundry on the floor was starting to form a nice pile. After rummaging through the remainder of my clean clothes, I settled on a white flannel nightshirt. I stood in front mirror and started from the top button. When I reached the last one, I looked at my legs. My scar had disappeared. 

C
HAPTER
T
WELVE

Holy cow. Holy cow. Holy cow.

Freaky.
This can’t be real.

I pulled up the hem of my shirt and lifted my leg up onto the dresser to get a closer look. The angry red lines and dents in the muscle were gone. G-O-N-E. Gone. I traced my trembling finger back and forth across my thigh and marveled at the smooth texture.

Like nothing had ever happened.

My head got fuzzy at the thought and I clutched the edge of the dresser, squeezing until my knuckles were white. I dropped to my knees as the breath went in and out of my lungs too quickly. 

Then I waited, huddled between layers of pillows and down comforters, scared out of mind of both my father and what was happening to me. Rational Gemma chided delirious Gemma and said that there was a reasonable explanation for everything. 

Different scenarios kept playing through my brain. Of my dad storming into my room with a butcher knife. Of the parasite within him leeching its way into my room through the cracks in the floorboards to choke the life out of me while I slept. My imagination got the best of me and kept my body frozen in place the entire night. 

Finally, when the first hint of day splashed across the window above my bed, I crept down the hall and out for my run, in an attempt to avoid my father as much as possible until I figured out a way to cure everyone.

Remembering my idea to try to talk to a Dybbuk, I stopped on the patio. The spirit was stretched on the lounger and when I squinted, it almost looked like a person staring at the sky. 

“Hey,” I said.

The black smoke released it shape and reformed.

“Can you understand me?” I asked.

It evaporated and reappeared beside me in a poof.

“I’m going to take that as a yes. Want to join me?” 

It didn’t answer but as I jogged down the stairs, it followed. 

On the brighter side of things, at least today I had a partner
.

When I got back to the house, the sun was beginning its slow ascent over the trees. Ghosty had kept pace and I was hesitant to leave it when my run ended.

“I’ll see you after school. I’ve got an idea,” I said and went into the house. 

My shower was quick but I couldn’t help but linger a few extra minutes in front of the mirror, fascinated by the smooth skin that now covered both my legs. 

Part of me wanted to cry at the loss. One more step pulling me away from the accident. No more physical reminders. If the scars are gone then what still connects me to Brian?

Stop it, Gem. It’s probably temporary. 

It was still early when I got to school so I opted to sit on a bench outside beneath an old maple tree instead of spending extra time trapped within the confines of the school. My view of the faculty parking lot wasn’t much. There was a single car there, covered in dew.

Must have sat there all night.

A stray gray cat stuck its head out from behind the front tire, skittered across the pavement onto the lawn, and made its way around onto the granite base of the statue of James Madison that stood at the far end of campus. It then jumped onto the bike rack, padded across the entire length without skipping a beat, and jumped down, landing at the crosswalk. As I marveled at the little guy’s agility, I heard the telltale sound of a car careening out of control. Tires screeched and a small green sedan slid into view, crashing right into the stop sign. The cat was nowhere to be seen. I got up and ran towards the accident, while pulling out my cellphone. 

A scrawny tail twitched from beneath the front wheel. 

Eww. Poor guy.

The windshield had shattered into a web of small pieces, still holding on to one another. The side window was fogged up and I couldn’t make out if the driver was hurt. I opened the door, only to find the vehicle empty. All the airbags had been deployed. I leaned over the seat to check the back row. Nothing.

I scrambled out and put a good distance between myself and the eerie scene. The preternatural feeling that I was being watched crawled up my neck and when I raised my eyes up the crest of the street, I saw all of them. Standing there, at the top, dozens of dark shadows. And in a blink of an eye, they dissolved into the air.

A deep rumble came from the other direction, breaking the thrall. A black motorcycle rolled into the parking lot and parked beneath the solar panel awnings. The rider was wearing white running shoes.

“Thom,” I yelled and ran towards him, waving my arms in the air like a mad woman.

He pulled the full-faced helmet off and strapped it with a bungee onto the back. “Gemma.” His voice was strong and clear, his eyes on me.

“The Dybbuk. They were there,” I said, trying to catch my breath. “At the top of the hill. Then a car came crashing with no one inside. And the cat. He’s dead. And my dad. He’s off the handle and I think he’s been possessed.”

“Slow down. Let’s go inside.”

We went straight to our homeroom, passing several more Dybbuk lining the halls. “There’s more of them. What’s going on?” I whispered.

“Seems like someone has stepped up the timetable. Looks like it’s become an infestation now.”

“Is there anything we can do? These things aren’t just dangerous, they’re going to cause chaos. Did you see that empty car they rolled down the street? We need to resolve their ‘issues,’ isn’t that what Ashtaroth said to do?”

“Even if we could figure out a way to communicate with them, there are too many now. We can’t fix each soul’s problem one by one. By the time we resolve a single soul’s problem, ten more will crop up.” He was pacing now and pulling at his hair.

“What other choice do we have?”

“We keep with the summonings. There is bound to be someone who’ll tell us what’s going on?”

“And you expect me to keep getting tatted up until then?”

“I told you this was important. I was willing to let you go back to your life. You’re the one who begged to keep going. Remember that part?” Flames appeared in his eyes that scared me no end.

“Fine then. Let’s go through the book and pick someone else. Should I close my eyes while you flip through the pages and we’ll just summon whomever I land on? Or do you think you could, for one minute, give me some insight? You act like you know everything.”

Thom stalked to the teacher’s closet and pulled out his keys.

“Knock knock.” The door swung open and Principal Kelly strode in, awash in a frilly, lavender blouse, a long, purple, tie-died tiered jersey skirt and purple cowboy boots.

“Good morning, Principal Kelly,” I said, eyeing Thom, who continued to busy himself with an armful of books.

“Good morning,” he said, placing a stack of paperbacks onto his desk.

“Just thought I’d check in on you. See how you were handling things.”

“We’re having a jolly time, aren’t we, Miss Pope?”

“Yup. Mr. Flynn is an awesome teacher.”

“Good. Good.” She kept staring at Thom and wringing her hands.

“Would you like to observe the class today?” Thom said.

“No, no. Just checking in.” She began muttering something under her breath and left the room, never giving us her back.

“Do you think one of them got to her?”

“Don’t think so. We’ll continue our conversation later.” He tugged on his ear and pointed to the door. I got the hint that now wouldn’t be the best time to get involved in a satanic ritual.

I was disappointed that Ian was nowhere to be found for most of the day. Nor was Charlotte, until lunchtime. She was already seated at a table filled with some other members of the squad. “Gemma!” She waved me over.

“Hey.” I stood there with my lunch tray, not making any move to join them. 

“Sit,” she said, tapping the empty space beside her.

I looked around at the faces of some of my former teammates, who were looking down at their food instead of at me. 

“It’s alright. I’ll catch up with you later.” I hightailed it out of there and kept going until I found an empty classroom.

“Gemma, wait up.” 

I turned to see Charlotte running after me in her ridiculously tall shoes. She tripped a bit but caught herself on me, sending the tray and half of my lunch to the floor. The other half was all over my clothing. I wiped the pea soup off the front of my jeans.

“Great. Thanks, Charlotte. As if my day wasn’t shitty enough already.” I could feel my marks ignite in awareness.

“Oh wow, Gemma. You can be a real bitch sometimes.”

“I don’t really need this right now. I didn’t want to sit with you. What’s the big deal?” 

I have to get away from her before something happens with these sigils
.

“The big deal is that you’re my friend and you can’t keep avoiding everyone.”

“Morgan and Emma didn’t seem too thrilled to have me there,” I said, sounding more than snotty.

“Well, they’re going to be there this weekend at my house. I thought now would be a good time to break the ice.”

“I don’t need your help, Charlotte. They haven’t said a word to me since the accident. Maybe I just shouldn’t come.” I started to walk away.

Maybe I have some clean clothes in my gym locker.

“Gem, don’t walk away from me.”

I ignored her and kept going, the pain in my arm receding with every step, making it all the more easier to run away.

The locker room was humid as usual and the puke green walls added to the swampy feel. I rushed to my locker and managed to find a semi-clean t-shirt and a pair of sweats. After changing, I noticed how bare my arms were and hoped that the cuff would be enough to hide the growing marks on my arm.