Almost Demon (The Sigil Cycle) (25 page)

That’s when I saw Ian standing with a baseball bat in hand, waving at me. “Come on,” he said.

There was no one else in sight. I looked down at the drop. The way the building was situated and the ground sloped, it was more than a two story fall. I brought one hand up to grip the frame while I clutched the other to my chest. Layers of skin had burned away, leaving a grisly maroon mark in the shape of his hand. 

“Hold on,” Thom said. He took off his blazer, wrapped it around his fist and dragged the gray fabric along the perimeter, knocking away the ugly shards of glass sticking out.

“Do me a favor, Thom. Stay away from me.”

“I was trying to look out for you. Give me your arm, I can heal it.”

“It’s not just that. You don’t trust me. You haven’t this whole time. And I’m not sure I can trust you anymore either.” 

“If this is about the grimoire…”

“Goodbye, Thom,” I said, hoisting myself up to the ledge and letting myself drop.

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY
-T
WO

Ian’s body was right there to break my fall. He didn’t catch me like I kind of expected him to but I don’t think it works that way. Jumping out of a building into someone’s arms. You can blame Superman for those delusions.

It was nicer, though, crashing into his chest than making out with the hard soil. 

“What happened to you?” he asked.

 When I pulled my hair out of my face, he turned from stunned to a dark shade of pissed.

“I’ll explain later,” I said. “We need to get out of here.” I looked back up at the building one more time and met Thom’s eyes. 

“Did you do this?” Ian was buzzing with anger now.

Thom never replied. He gave me one more disappointed glance before turning back in to the school.

“Let’s leave,” I said, dragging my bag behind me while I headed towards the street. 

“Give that to me,” Ian said, taking my tote and throwing it across his shoulder. “What the hell did he do to you? I’m going to beat the crap out of him.”

“Drop it, Ian. Let’s go to my house. Then we can plot our next move.”

I turned to look back at Thom one more time. Needed to see the look on his face when he saw the one of betrayal on mine. But all that was left was the mass of Dybbuk that had enveloped the building and their army of human puppets racing towards us, Morgan and Emma in the forefront.

We hightailed it towards my house. Only it wasn’t a romantic leisurely walk, it was more of a ‘run for your life keep checking your back’ kind of thing. Main street was overrun with looters, breaking through storefront displays and taking with them as much as they could carry. Grown women were vandalizing cars and street signs while stroller-napping toddlers were wheeled away by the crowds.

“I think I can find something online. It’s worth trying. Am I wrong?”

“Didn’t you say there was a book?” Ian asked.

“’Was’ is the operative word,” I said, shoving my way through a horde of burly men fighting over six packs of cheap beer.

Our breath came in and out in short rough wheezes as we picked up our pace. The brand on my arm, courtesy of Thom, was starting to ache. The skin was beginning to contract and pull tight, amplifying the burning sensation.

By the time we reached the familiar tree-lined block of my house, all my energy had been depleted. My foot got caught on a tree root, sending me skidding on the concrete.

“Ow. Shit,” I cried out. 

“You alright?” Ian said, catching my elbows and lifting me up. He looked down at my palms, raw and riddled with tiny pebbles and dirt. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

I leaned on him for support until we got inside. Ghosty’s absence on the front porch had me worrying. 

Et tu Ghoste? Did you go bananas, too?

Before I could peek out the back to make sure, Ian dragged me to the bathroom and sat me on the countertop.

“Peroxide?” he asked.

“Under the sink.” 

He crouched down and rummaged through the contents.

Eek, my pads are in there.

He stood back up with a handful of cotton and a brown bottle, the sight of which always made me wince.

“I hate that stuff.”

“Don’t worry.” He turned my palms up and began to clean away the debris. 

My eyes drifted down the curve of his neck. The thought of his skin sent shivers of longing through me. Visions of his body flooded my mind and I tried my best to sit still as he gently swiped the cotton across my palms. 

“All done,” he said. “Now, let me look at this.” 

He pushed up my sleeve and let out a fierce rumble.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” I said.

“Oh, yes it is. And I’m going to seriously kick his ass next time I see him. You can count on it.” 

After rubbing some antibiotic cream in, Ian wrapped my arms with gauze, tying it closed with the frayed ends.

“Thanks,” I said when there was nothing left of me to fix.

He didn’t respond. Only sent a sly smile my way, which didn’t progress any further as the sound of a slamming door interrupted the moment. 

“Gemma!” My father’s voice boomed through the thin walls.

“In here,” I called.

As soon as he filled the doorway, I knew something was wrong. The blackness in his eyes had seeped its way down his face. Tiny veins dragged down his cheeks and swelled, throbbing and pulsing while his tongue stuck out the side of his mouth.

I jumped off the counter and slipped on the bathmat, the toilet breaking my fall. 

“Dr. Pope. Are you feeling alright?” Ian took a step, blocking my dad’s path towards me. I was at a loss for words at the sight of him. 

“Gemma,” he replied, stretching his arms past Ian’s shoulders to get to me. Ian pushed back, sending my father back into the hallway. 

Then he turned to me. “Get your things. Whatever you need for a few days. Meet me at the tree.” He closed the door behind him, which was followed by MME-worthy slams that vibrated through the walls.

When the sounds of grappling moved far enough away to the other side of the house, I used the time to jump straight into my room. I pulled a small duffle from the top shelf of my closet and began packing up my laptop and a change of clothes as well as the notebook of sigils with all my copies and parchment. 

I was hesitant to leave. My father’s behavior might have been unstable but he always managed to pull through and turn back to his old self. 

It’ll only be for the night. Tomorrow he’ll be better and I’ll come back.

I walked away from the grunts and sounds of wood splintering to the master bedroom. There was a picture of Brian I had to take with me. 

The generally immaculate room was in shambles. The bed was unmade, sheets and blankets were strewn all over the floor. Hangers and clothing covered every other inch of the room. The closet doors had been torn off their hinges and were leaning against the thick damask drapes that were now torn to shreds. With my fists in front of me, I walked to the large vanity where the words
Get Gemma
were scrawled in red liquid that had caked dry only after it had oozed down and collected into a pool on top of the mahogany table.

I really hope that’s not what I think it is.

Not willing to risk myself any longer and find out what exactly
Get Gemma
meant, I grabbed my favorite framed photo of my brother and jumped out through the bedroom window.

It was cold and dark at the base of the tree. My senses were on high alert, still fueled by the adrenaline it had taken to get here past the flying Dybbuk that had cloaked the town in search of their next host, and hordes of possessed people looking for more violence. 

At night the overgrown grass looked menacing and the pile of junk was the perfect hiding places for boogey men. The damp earth filled my mind with exaggerated visions of enormous killer centipedes crawling up my legs. I made sure to stomp my boots every few seconds just in case. 

When a figure began to move towards me, I jumped from my spot on the low-lying log.

“Thank goodness you’re here. How is he?” I asked, hoping my dad was okay.

“Didn’t reckon you’d be so glad to see me.” There was only one person around Harrisport with that accent.

“Thom.”

He stepped closer until we were inches apart. The only light coming from the nearby gas station was enough to highlight more than a days’ worth of five o’clock shadow. And somehow, even amidst the chilling night, he was able to exude warmth.

“What are you doing here?” I tried to come off strong but I only sounded petty and obnoxious. 

“Could ask you the same thing. Hope you know what you’re doing.”

“I’m fine. Actually, I’m better than fine. Even after the stunt you pulled earlier.”

“I’m trying to protect you, Gemma. When will you realize that?”

“When you start trusting me back and telling me what the hell is really going on,” I said.

“You’re driving me mad, girl.”

“You hurt me,” I said, tucking my bandaged arm into my jacket.

The cicadas turned up the volume and the chittering was surrounding us.

“I’m truly sorry for that. That’s why I’m here.” He drew something out of his jacket. It was the leather journal I had seen with him the last few days. “Couldn’t get everything in there. Only bits and pieces that I could remember. Maybe you can find something in there to sort out this mess. I can’t interfere anymore.”

I took the book and shoved it into my duffle. “I’m not an idiot, you know. I can kind of figure out who you are. I just don’t know which side you’re playing for.”

“For your sake, I hope you don’t find out.” He placed a gloved hand on my cheek. I drew back, expecting only pain but he held my cheek steady, showing me that I was safe. His face hovered above mine and I caught the sweet scent of cinnamon once again. “Sweet Gemma. Don’t ever change.”

My heart was racing.

“Is this goodbye?” I asked.

“Something like it.”

“How will I know what to do?”

“You seem to have it covered. My hands are tied from here on in, however this story may play out.” He perked his head up and looked around. “Gotta run,” he said.

“Wait. What if..” 

He was gone before I could finish my question. Before I could call back out to him, I heard a crunch from behind.

“Hey.” It was Ian. “Who were you talking to?”

I stuck my hand in my bag, feeling the smooth leather of the book Thom had entrusted to me. 

“No one,” I said. “Just was freaking out a bit.”

“I would have been here sooner.”

“Is he alright?” 

“Let’s just say he’s taking a nap.”

We headed off into the Drifts and I didn’t look back.

When we got to Ian’s house on the hill, it was daytime. 

“Strange,” I said.

“What is?”

“This place stays gray. It doesn’t change.”

“Don’t expect things to follow the same rules in the Drifts. Let’s get in.” Ian stopped at the lake to pull his sweater over his head, revealing a smooth expanse of taut skin over well-formed muscle. 

Gulp.

“
It’s freezing.” I rubbed the sides of my arms as he continued to undress, unbuckling the thick black leather belt at his waist. “And I’m tired.”

“Just go with it. I promise you’ll love it,” he said as he tucked his thumbs into the waistline of his fitted jeans and stepped out of them. 

“I don’t have a suit,” I said.

He didn’t seem to care and showed no signs of stopping. I followed his lead and began peeling away the layers of clothing until we were both standing in the frigid wind in just our undies. I wrapped my arms around my soft stomach that running couldn’t seem to get rid of, embarrassed at how I must look in front of such a perfect guy like Ian. His yellow octopus print boxers hung precariously past the edge of his pelvic bone, revealing the deep vee of his oblique muscles and I followed the line all the way down his legs.

He even has nice feet.
 

If I hadn’t been standing near naked in the freezing cold, I would have jumped into a cold shower to calm my raging hormones. As he gracefully slipped into the water, I took note of the large skeletal wings tattooed across the entire expanse of Ian’s back. He beckoned me to follow. Mesmerized by the way his eyes reflected the intense blues around him, I sat on the wooden boardwalk that ran alongside the water and slid my feet into the soothing hot water, eventually lowering myself beside him, happy to obscure the rest of my body from his heated gaze.

I never had the chance to even fumble or hesitate or babble because Ian was beside me in seconds. His face leaned closer to mine. I was giddy and nervous at the chance for another kiss. And more. He took me in his arms and placed them on his shoulders. Instinct had me wrapping my legs around his waist and he swam us towards a bevy of volcanic rock that was coated in white chalky silica. 

I tucked my face into the dip of his shoulder and watched the water glow, painting a picture for myself in my mind so that I could remember this moment. Ian swam wide circles around the small island while I held on and tried to steady the frenzied beat of my heart. I took a strong deep breath. The smell of him and the minerals was heady.