Demon Magic Read online

  “I agree,” Xavier said.

  I was somehow glad that he wasn't lying or skirting around this. I needed honesty right now, and I would wonder for the rest of my life if I didn't get it. At the same time, I didn't want the truth, whatever it was. I had never stopped to think how convenient it was that Russell Fox, Thoreau's vampire servant, just happened to be on the road that my parents and I took home from Grandma's house that fateful night. It was a plot hole I had missed.

  “Thanks,” I said with sarcasm, turning in a circle right there in the middle of the street. I vaguely remembered the little ice cream place at the end of it, right across from a park with a bubbling fountain. A memory flooded back. I had a heaping green cone there the day of the bite. I loved it. Mom and Dad were smiling, and Grandma and Grandpa were taking pictures of me with a purple camera. I had forgotten about it until now.

  It had been the last time we'd all been together.

  And my last ice cream cone.

  I wondered if Grandma still had that picture.

  “Well, it's a good point,” Xavier said. “I think Thoreau's been tracking you for a long time. We both saw that big family tree in those ruins back in Turkey. The Dark Council's been working on this for a long time.”

  “I feel like an experiment,” I said, turning away from the ice cream place and letting my memory rain like glass to the pavement. Somewhere, a dog barked. “That's it. An experiment. Let's see what we can make.”

  “You're not one to me,” Xavier said, taking my arms. “Thoreau wants you to feel broken, Alyssa. It's part of his plan. I'll tell you that until I take my last breath if I have to.”

  “I know you will.” I wanted to hear him say that, over and over. So far, I hadn't had much say in who I was becoming. In what I was becoming. “Let's find my grandmother and see if she's still awake.” I doubted that, but I'd wake her up if I had to. I just hoped she was one of those old people who barely slept at all.

  Xavier and I had to walk the streets to find the right one. Everly. It was a street full of big, wealthy houses that made Xavier wrinkle his nose. All the lawns were neat and manicured, with hedges trimmed into geometric shapes. We passed mailbox after mailbox and came to the right number.

  I stared at the house. “I remember this.”

  My grandmother's house was old, brick, and looked kind of like a castle with its pointed roof sections and the vines creeping up the sides. Mom and Dad had brought me here once. The memory had just woken up. I asked them if we were visiting a king. We stood there in the street, alone with only a streetlight shining down on us. The neighborhood was silent, and most lights inside of houses were off. We stood in a place of rich, older people and children long gone. The house next to my grandmother's had two Hummers in the driveway, and the one on the opposite side had a BMW.

  “Does this make me a snob, too?” I joked.

  Xavier slapped me on the arm. “Hey. Fair's fair.”

  There was a single light on inside of Grandma's house—the living room light. Grandma was apparently still awake because I detected the low drone of a television inside. A coffee pot sizzled and dripped. So Grandma was a night person. That was good, because I was one, too.

  “I guess we should knock,” I said.

  “Won't she be scared?” Xavier asked.

  “Probably. Then again, if what Thoreau said is true, she's used to creepy people.”

  I wasn't looking forward to this, not just because of the answer about Thoreau. It was the thought of learning what she thought of me. I regretted not using another glamour. Maybe the ATC had been here already, asking about me.

  I tensed and walked up to the door. I half-expected an alarm to go off, but none did. There was a home security sticker on the door like there must be with all of these homes, but nothing else. Knocking wouldn't set it off, would it?

  I knocked.

  I heard her get up out of a leather chair and shuffle closer to the door. She smelled of coffee and hard candies. Not only was Grandma a night person, but she was also brave. I couldn't think of any other old women who would answer their doors at past eleven at night.

  She opened the door.

  My memory exploded with an image of a younger Grandma, one only in her upper sixties with gray hair instead of white, but the woman standing here was the same one. She had the same mole right above her right eyebrow, the same scar near her lip, the same necklace with the coat of arms charm. The nobility thing was still here, all right.

  She faced us in turn, confident and not willing to back down. There was a hardness in her eyes that made me proud. Grandma wasn't the type of woman to get pushed around, but I could see decades of pain in those eyes. Maybe I knew this because my life was the same way.

  “Who are you?” she asked.

  I opened my mouth, and I struggled for words, so Xavier finished for me. “This is Alyssa Choy, your long lost granddaughter. I'm her battle partner, Xavier. We just have some questions, if you don't call the police on us first.”

  “After that,” I blurted, “we'll leave you alone and never come back if that's what you want." I wanted this to be over. I knew what to expect.

  But still, a tiny part of me hoped for warmth. For love.

  Grandma's mouth fell open. She studied me up and down, locking her gaze with mine.

  I wasn't wearing any contact lenses. I had forgotten to put them back in after the glamour had worn off Xavier and I. Other things had taken up my thoughts. My reddish eyes were there for her to see.

  And still, Grandma didn't back away. “Alyssa?” she asked, hard as ever.

  “Yes,” I said, careful not to open my mouth too wide. My eyes were bad enough. I couldn't scare Grandma too badly.

  She moved her hand to the door, ready to slam it in my face. The tiny hopeful part of me screamed before it got crushed.

  Fine. I expected that. But I reached out, and I held the door open. Grandma turned her gaze to the coffee table, where a cell phone waited. She was thinking of calling the authorities on me.

  “Don't,” I warned. “For one thing, Xavier and I will stop you, and for another, we need to ask you some questions to save our families from the Infernal Dimension. That's it. Don't believe all that crap you've seen on the news about me going on a murdering rampage. It's to make me look bad.”

  “I think you need to go,” Grandma said.

  “I think you had better answer some questions first,” I said, taking a bold step into the house. Xavier was right behind me. I was so angry that I didn't care about being polite. “Sit down. Xavier will even bring you some coffee. We need to have a serious chat.”

  “About what?” she asked. Grandma wouldn't back down. She had guts.

  “I have a feeling you know,” I said. “At least, I think you do. Sit down.”

  At last, she gave in and sat on the couch, hand on the coffee table and inches from her cell phone. Grandma twisted around from what might be back pain and rubbed her back, but she wasn't shaking. I had never met such a brave Normal in my life. At least she wasn't screaming as Mom had.

  Xavier grabbed two mugs of coffee from the kitchen and came back, handing one to Grandma. She accepted it. I was glad someone was able to be polite here because it sure wasn't me. Grandma set the coffee down on the table and faced me with those hard, unforgiving eyes. “So, what is it that you want to ask?”

  “I'll cut right to it,” I said. I didn't want to give Grandma any ideas. “Who is my mother's father?”

  I studied her face for any sign of distress, and I found one. Grandma might be confident, but she didn't have a good poker face. She frowned a bit and shifted, making the chair squeak.

  “William Silas, my late husband,” she said quickly. “Now, can you please leave?”

  I leaned forward. “You're lying,” I said those words with dread curling around in my gut. “Tell me the truth, and then we'll leave. I'll repeat my question. Who is my mother's biological father?”

  Grandma hesitated. It gave me a bit of time t
o look around the room. There were the usual knickknacks in glass cases. She had an entire glass case full of metal coats of arms. They were of different types, and I even caught a glimpse of the ATC one, with the schoolhouse, the sun, and the tree. It was a bronze copy that sat right in between two other coats of arms, one with the Silas family name. Next to the glass case was a box stuffed with romance novels. With my vision, I could make out from here that all the heroes on the covers were dukes and barons and earls, dressed in finery. All of the heroines had low-cut dresses and long, flowing hair.

  Grandma had several boxes of those novels, in fact.

  Thoreau had told me about that.

  “I'm waiting,” I said.

  “You need to go,” she repeated. Real fear came over her face, and her eyes widened.

  “Not until you give me the truth,” I said. “My fate rides on this. The world could end because of this. Your daughter is in danger because of this.” If the world got merged with the Infernal Dimension, Mom might not be so Normal anymore. She was going to try her worst nightmare on for size, and I didn't blame her for wanting to avoid it.

  "Leave," Grandma ordered. "I can't be associated with you."

  I reached up and pinned Grandma's shoulder to the chair. It was a horrible move, but I had no choice.

  "Answers," I demanded.

  Grandma put her face in her hand. “I don't want my daughter to see my late husband as anything other than her father. The man raised her. He was a great dad. Neither of them ever knew the truth.”

  Thoreau had told me that Mom had learned the truth as a teenager. Even with my anger, I didn't have the heart to tell Grandma that. “I won't say a thing to her,” I said. "I promise." I couldn't bear to the say that the two of us no longer spoke, either.

  I was shaking.

  “The man who fathered your mother," Grandma said. "His name was Frederick Drake. We met at the park. He told me that he was a baron. I didn't believe him, of course, but he sure acted the part, like a character from a romance novel. He was such a gentleman when my husband was away on business and cheating on me.” Grandma gripped the coffee mug with her free hand and brought it to her lips. She winced at the burn but swallowed it like she was used to drinking pain. “Then your mother came along, and Frederick was gone. He just left me with a cheating husband and a baby to raise. Frederick Drake came into my life, filled a void, and then ripped my heart out. I've never told anyone. Are you happy?”

  “I'm sorry that happened to you,” Xavier said, shooting me a worried look. “This Frederick Drake. What did he look like?”

  Grandma took another painful sip. I was making her relive heartbreak. I wondered how she had treated Mom all these years, knowing she was born from a man who had abandoned her. “I don't know why this is so important to you, but watching the news disgusts me because Frederick looked just like Cumberland's mayor. If I didn't know better, I'd swear that what's-his-face is him.”

  I got up and released her shoulder. “We're leaving now.” The living room closed in. The air thickened, crushing my chest. I avoided Xavier's gaze. “You're never going to see me again, so don't worry about that. And by the time you call the authorities, we'll be gone.”

  Thoreau was my grandfather.

  “Go,” Grandma said. “If you hurry, you might get away before they get here.”

  “What do you mean?” Xavier asked.

  “I hear sirens,” I said. They were distant but approaching. I glared at Grandma. “Are you sitting on a button to call the ATC or something?”

  For the first time, real regret came over her face. She got up and held up a small black remote with a single red button that she had been hiding in the couch cushion. I understood. She had been shifting to press the button when Xavier and I had first come in.

  “They told me the two of you were dangerous,” she said. Her look changed. “The ATC left me with this. When I pressed it, I thought the two of you were here to kill me."

  Now I understood why she had told us to leave. I wanted to slap myself for not seeing it sooner.

  A vehicle with a loud motor pulled up outside and stopped next to Grandma's mailbox. An ATC van. And then another, and another. The sirens had masked the sound of their coming, even to me. I imagined a base camp here in Oaktown if I happened to show up here.

  The ATC had told her that Xavier and I were monsters, probably at Thoreau's order.

  “Ready for a hug?” Xavier asked, spreading his arms.

  “Ready,” I said. I faced Grandma. “Try not to scream.” I made sure my sword was on my belt—check.

  She remained on the couch, tense, silently urging us to go. I had some hope for her after all. It was small, but there.

  Xavier and I embraced.

  The ATC couldn't catch us, now that I had bitten him.

  More magenta light exploded around us and we fell away once again, but this time I felt like I was going to fall forever until the darkness swallowed me.

  Chapter Three

  “Crap!” I shouted, punching a junked car. “Crap!”

  “Get it out,” Xavier said beside me.

  I was glad that Mack's junkyard was empty this late at night. For one thing, Xavier was finally weak after two big jumps in a row. We both might be stronger now that I'd bitten him, but he wasn't invincible, and he still had to replenish himself. He leaned against another car and rested from the thirty-mile Transposing adventure.

  And I needed to finish freaking out.

  I kicked the car door, making it cave in. It wasn't like it made much difference. The Kia was already dead, judging from the burnt oil smell coming from under the hood. Hadn't Trish said something about never stealing a Kia?

  It didn't matter. I was just trying to distract my thoughts from having every last happy view of my family ruined except for my father.

  “I want to bury myself and never come out again,” I said, leaning over the car. “There. I got it out. Is that better?”

  “Yes,” Xavier said. “I get it. I do. Look at my family.”

  “Yours isn't as bad as mine,” I said.

  “Well...I guess you're right. I wish I could do something about this,” Xavier said.

  “Well,” I said, standing up. “We know that I can not go into the Infernal Dimension ever even if we get rid of you-know-who.” I didn't even want to say his name anymore. “But we can't just leave Trish and Thorne and the others there, either. My father's still trapped. There are thousands of Abnormals stuck in the Infernal, Xavier. Didn't you see through the portal?”

  Xavier nodded. The look on his face was grave. “The barracks. The line. He's Bound them all. I know it. He must have thousands of Abnormals and Normals there, all ready to wake up and be his unwilling army.” His expression was pained. His parents were there, too.

  “Thorne and Trish and your Aunt Primrose wouldn't have given the mayor their blood,” I said. “I can't see them doing that. From what I get, a contract with a demon has to happen with one's own free will. Right?” I'd heard stories, whispered in school halls from elementary to high school. Kids talked about how bad it was to get into contracts with demons. Horror movies got made about that all the time.

  “You do have to do it out of your own free will,” Xavier said. “But Thoreau has ways to make people do what he wants. He's a master manipulator.”

  “I know that,” I said.

  He had manipulated me twice. Maybe more. He had run my family story behind the scenes for who knew how many generations, shaping me into what he wanted. He had made it so that I would never have a Normal life or an actual family. I might be unlovable.

  “He might have threatened to kill others in the line if Thorne and Trish and the others didn't enter his service,” Xavier said. “If I was an evil demon baron, that's what I would do. He uses Nazi torture tactics.”

  “Can we please not talk about this?” I asked.

  “Okay. But I told you that you are not Thoreau.”

  “I know I'm not. I'm freaking out beca
use it's gross. We can talk about something less gross. Like bodily functions, maybe?”

  Xavier smiled. “You're right. I guess I should stop lecturing you. Trish and Elsina tell me I'm not Leon all the time. They tell me not to feel responsible for things the Elder War Mages did. It doesn't make me feel better. The problem is that it is gross to think about being related to someone like that.”

  “And no one can tell you it's not disgusting,” I said.

  “Right,” Xavier said. “I never thought about it that way. Now we need to go talk to Mack.”

  We navigated the junkyard. The waxing moon was almost overhead by now. It must be close to midnight. I wondered what Grandma was telling the ATC. If she had a soul, it was that she had sat on the button by accident. If not, it was that we needed to be caught and apprehended.

  I might have misjudged her when we first entered her house.

  I hoped.

  We found Mack's beater car still ticking when we reached his shack. The pale light was on in the shack, and it was enough for my color vision to return. Mack shuffled around his small kitchen, and I heard the male ATC agent try to speak through a gag. Mack told him that he'd be just a minute.

  I ran into the shack and didn't bother to knock.

  Mack was just getting into the fridge to grab a beer. The guy had bags under his eyes, and the two ATC agents were propped up against the wall in the open closet, hands bound behind their backs and gags tied tight around their mouths. They hadn't been able to so much as talk. I could smell that the two of them were on the verge of needing a shower pretty badly, even though a human might not be able to pick up on that yet. The woman cast her desperate gaze to me. Agent Ellie Sanders. They wore their ATC uniforms again, complete with the bulletproof vests. Xavier and I had happily given them back once we returned from the bunker and changed back into our old clothes.

  The man looked away, but Ellie's gaze was pleading. I was the only other girl in the room. Maybe that gave me a softer image, even though I had bitten her. Her bite was healing, though, but at a Normal rate. The bite marks were still red with inflammation, but I smelled no sign of an infection.