Strega (Strega Series) (11 page)

"I'll be fine. I parked right out front."

"Please, Jay, take care of yourself," he said sternly. "I will see you in the morning. Nine o'clock?"

I nodded. "See you then."

I got in the elevator and pulled out my phone.

D-e-m-o-n. I typed the letters into the search window.

In religion and folklore, a demon is an evil supernatural being or spirit. Many demons in literature were once fallen angels, however some are said to have been born in darkness, forged in the fires of Hell itself.

My car was parked as close to the building as possible. I scanned my surroundings and descended the steps, feeling confident that I could walk the forty-foot stretch to my car, get in, and drive home without incident.

When my foot hit the last step, I hesitated. A gentle breeze swept past me, carrying with it something that made my heart flutter. A familiar scent, musky and earthy. One I could never forget. It hadn't filled my senses since the night I met Vince. I turned around, wishing to see him standing behind me. But I was alone.

Months later, even in his absence Vince had the power to intoxicate me. It didn't matter how hard I tried to forget him. Something wouldn't let me. I lingered on that last step, clinging to this bittersweet, intangible reminder before it disappeared.

As I approached my car, the lights overhead suddenly went out.

Really?

The row of bushes beyond my car seemed harmless in daylight, but in the dark formed a wall of terror. Staring at them seemed to bring them to life. They quivered to the beat of my nerves.

When I heard the bushes rustle, I froze. My heart was thumping full-force when the rustling suddenly stopped. I hurried to my car with the key in my hand, and hit the unlock button. I kept my eyes fixed on the bushes as I pulled the door open, but before I could slip inside, my body slammed against the door. From behind, someone bigger than me, stronger than me, pinned me to the car, and his forceful hands wrapped around my neck.

"Did you really think you could hide from us forever?" his deep voice slithered into my ear. His face pressed against mine and his grip around my throat tightened. As I was pinned beneath him, I felt his body strengthen and expand until he towered over me. His breaths grew deeper and warmer. Panting like an animal, his mouth opened and globs of saliva ran down my face and neck. His long, sharp teeth pressed against my skin, about to sink in. He was not human.

"Where is it?" he growled in a deep, terrifying voice.

He wanted the athame. With each second, I grew more lightheaded until I was sure I was going to pass out. I needed air. I couldn't speak, but even if I could, I never would have told him where it was. His body pushed harder against mine, crushing me. He pinned my legs so I couldn't kick free. My vision began to blur. All I could do was hold onto consciousness and hope that someone would help me. Just then, I heard a soft and steady swish behind us, and it was moving in our direction.

The weight of his unusually massive body continued to crush me as his head turned toward the sound. Just then, a sharp crack cut through the air like a bullet. I fell backward, pulled violently by my neck until finally he lost his grip on me. I landed on top of him and he didn't try to regain control over me. He was out cold I assumed as I pushed myself up off his limp body. The sharp sound, I suddenly realized, was his jaw cracking behind someone's fist.

I couldn't look back. I reached for my car door and hurled myself into the driver's seat. I slammed the door behind me and fumbled to lock it. Then I threw my car into reverse, hit the gas, and peeled out of the parking lot.

I gripped the steering wheel with both hands. My back didn't touch the seat the whole way home. I rifled through my bag for Mr. Whitmore's business card. At the first stop light, I dialed his number and waited for him to answer.

Hello, you have reached David Whitmore. Please leave your name and number, as well as the reason for your call, and I will get back to you as soon as possible. Thank you.

Beep
.

"Mr. Whitmore. It's Jay," I managed to say, helplessly out of breath. "I was just attacked. On campus. In the parking lot. You were right. Whatever is after me...he is not human. He wants the athame. If he knows you have it, he will come after you, too. Please just get away from it. Lock it up until we figure out what to do. And be careful tonight. I'll see you in the morning."

Rena had been calling and texting me all day. Twenty-one calls to be exact, and at least as many texts. I pulled into Ruth's driveway and parked next to Max's car. They were both inside, surely waiting for me and expecting an explanation. More than ever, I needed Rena's support. It went against everything in me to keep the truth from her. But I had to.

"Where the hell have you been all day?" Rena demanded as I walked through the door. She threw her arms around me, relieved that I was all right. Max made his way toward us with his casted arm in a sling. I pulled my hair forward to conceal my neck and any obvious sign that it had just been violently wrung. A fierce ache was settling in all over.

"Hey you!" he said as he threw his good arm around me and gave me half a bear hug. "We've been waiting for you!"

"Yeah, I just got caught up at work...my boss called with a last minute assignment this morning," I lied. Rena seemed skeptical, but nodded in acceptance. She had her eyes on the clock. Max had to be at Code Red at eight. I had fifteen minutes to get ready.

I didn't want to go, but I didn't want to stay home alone either. I was in danger and staying in a public place was probably my best defense. Rena was excited to go out together and hoped it would take my mind off things. She encouraged me to come upstairs with her so she could pick out something fun for me to wear. On our way, she grabbed a fancy dress that was draped over the arm of the sofa and a glittery box of shoes beside it.

"For tonight?" I asked with confusion, hoping I wasn't going to look like a loser in my leather boots. There was no way I was wearing heels.

"Yes. I'm hoping to win best dressed," she said sarcastically, assuming that I was joking. When she saw in my face that my ignorance was not an act, she finally elaborated. "Margot's wedding...on Saturday? I asked Max to bring my stuff over since I'll be getting ready here."

Ugh. Margot's wedding.

The event at Code Red that night was not the only thing Max was doing to win favor at work. That weekend, he was flying to Las Vegas. Weeks ago, his boss asked him to come along to a big syndicated radio event there. Knowing it would be great exposure for him, and hoping it would help him get his promotion, Rena encouraged him to say yes. But as soon as he did, she called me in a panic. She'd already sent her reply card to her cousin Margot's wedding with Max as her guest.

"Please! Please! Please! Come with me," she'd begged. "I really, really, REALLY don't want to go by myself! You know how awful my cousins are! I cannot show up alone!"

"Rena, I don't even really know her. And she didn't even invite me!" I said, refusing to go at first.

"Listen," she said in a slow, controlled voice. "If I have to go alone, then I'm not going. That's two heads paid for that will go to waste. You'd be doing my aunt and uncle a favor by coming!"

After fifteen minutes listening to her desperate pleas, I finally caved. If I'd been aware of the tailspin my life was about to take, I definitely would have stuck with my original answer.

I washed my face and put on some blush while Rena buzzed around me with a curling iron. I threw on a clean pair of jeans and my favorite white top, and I was ready to go with five minutes to spare. Max made his way out of the kitchen with the last few bites of a sandwich and yelled up the stairs.

"Hey Jay, is Shaun back yet?"

"No," I shouted down to him. "He's gone for a couple more days."

"Huh. Weird," he grumbled. He already knew Shaun had left with his uncle the night before. I overheard Rena telling him earlier.

"Why? What's up?" I asked curiously as Rena and I came downstairs.

"Oh nothing. I swore I saw his boat docked at the marina this afternoon." His face contorted as he tried to reconcile the whole thing in his mind.

"Yeah, he's gone," I reiterated as I grabbed my keys and my phone on our way out the door.

My relationship with Shaun never would have started if Rena hadn't meddled.

She and I were having lunch downtown one afternoon. It was early summer—school had just gotten out. I wanted to run to the bookstore to pick up a copy of
Wuthering Heights
from Mrs. Bayless's summer reading list.

"I'll come with you," Rena said. "And then we can go to Basha's for Tuesday half-price pedicures!"

We walked down to the marina in our flip-flops while our toenails dried. I saw Shaun standing on a stunning black, silver-trimmed boat docked in the marina. I recognized him right away from The Waterside. To my chagrin he recognized me, too. As soon as he saw me, he waved with an expressiveness that surprised me. He was usually so quiet and kept to himself, only peering at other patrons from under his brow when he thought nobody was watching him.

"Waterside, right?" I said, smiling as I approached him. "You're the guy who never drinks your coffee."

"Yes," he said chuckling. "And you are the lovely young lady who always checks on me anyway."

"That's me," I said awkwardly.

If not for Rena, I would have wrapped it up then. I'd already given myself the orders.
Say goodbye, turn around, and make your way back up the wooden planks.
But Rena placed her hand on my back and forcefully guided me toward him.

"What do we have here?" she mumbled into my ear playfully while pinching the back of my arm. Like most girls, she was smitten with Shaun after taking one look at him. She initiated a conversation with him, which she did with anyone no matter where she was or who she was with. But that day, her determination was in high gear. She was in no rush to leave and, to my annoyance, she lingered far too long, finding new questions to ask him. Through her endless interrogation, I learned more about boating than I ever wanted to know.

The boat was Shaun's. Technically, it still belonged to his uncle, but when Shaun turned eighteen the following summer, it would be his. His uncle was retiring. Shaun planned to take over his business of running a sailing charter during the summer months when tourists were willing to pay any price to get out on the water.

Shaun was very charming, answering all of Rena's questions with patience and grace
—something I never would have noticed about him if Rena hadn't prodded. Though he was more than happy to humor her, his demeanor was infused with a subtle but consistent reserve. He seemed more mature than most boys I knew, and my natural instinct to run waned. His reticence provoked my interest.

Rena gave me a wink and a hard elbow each time Shaun looked away to point to some part of the boat she was asking about. "Cuuute!" she loudly whispered into my ear as she scrunched her face up and pushed me toward him. After many of Rena's non-subtle hints to see the inside of his boat, Shaun offered to take us for a tour. I didn't want to impose, but before I could decline, Rena grabbed my hand and pulled me onward.

We stepped inside the spacious living room, adorned with so many modern luxuries that it was easy to forget we were on the water. A long, white leather sofa ran along the far wall, and a white Persian carpet with rich brown accents was centered on the dark hardwood floor that stretched from end to end in the lavish space. On the wall behind us, a giant flat screen TV descended from the ceiling with the click of a button, and a propane-fueled gas stove with a stone hearth lie in wait for a cool late-summer night. We walked past the kitchen, where the sunlight poured in and shimmered upon the granite countertops. We continued on to the full bathroom, complete with a marble-tiled floor, jetted bathtub, and Swiss shower.

Shaun gestured to his uncle's bedroom. The door was closed, but Rena boldly asked if he was inside. Finally reaching my threshold of annoyance, I leaned in and pinched the back of her arm. She let out an unrestrained "Ou-CHHH!"

"He's a quiet guy," Shaun volunteered. "Sort of likes to keep to himself."

Shaun directed us to the other end of the boat to his own room, which was just as beautiful as the rest of the space and decorated with a rich palette of ivories, browns, and grays. A giant bed topped with fluffy white down covers and gray throw pillows sat upon a square, light shag rug contrasting the chestnut brown hardwoods beneath it. An ecru leather chair and a small glass table sat in the far right corner, and a dark mahogany desk and chair in the opposite corner. A bureau and dresser of the same beautiful, dark wood stood at either side of the doorway.

Every inch of the space was immaculate. Though Rena and I were both impressed, Shaun was modest and seemingly unmoved by the luxury that infused his waterborne home. When the inside tour ended, Rena once again made me wish that I could muzzle her.

"You should give Jay your number!" she blurted out. As Shaun and I both struggled to navigate the awkwardness, Rena scrambled to find words to soften the horrified look on my face.