by Helen Keeble
Belatedly, it occurred to me that I was in a small room, outside of shouting distance from anyone else, with my mortal enemy between me and the door.
Maybe this hadn’t been such a good idea.
From the triumphant smirk on Michaela’s face, she thought this was a fabulous idea. Her hand whipped around to the back of her waistband, pulling something out. “Take this!”
Bemused, I did. “Okay,” I said, inspecting the index card. It had a pentagram drawn on it, but not one of the eye-twisting ones. It was just lines on paper. “What am I supposed to do with it?”
“I didn’t mean literally,” Michaela snapped, plucking it out of my fingers again. She had a whole stack of the things in her other hand. With a small glare at the pentagram, as if the symbol had personally disappointed her, she tossed it aside, then flipped over the next one. “How about this?”
“Gah!” Shelves rattled as I recoiled into them. Okay, it was still just ink, but I could have sworn the thing was about to jump off the paper and bite me. “Get it away from me!”
Michaela’s lips curved in satisfaction. “Oh, no,” she said, moving closer, the card held in front of her like a shield. I couldn’t help cringing away. “We’re going to be here for a while, and it’s going to get much worse for you than this. I’m going to go through every symbol, every possible combination until I find—”
“Rafael Angelos!”
I had never been so glad to hear my name in my life. An instant later, Ms. Wormwood wrenched Michaela away. The teacher’s red hair was practically alight with the force of her outrage. “What are you two doing in here?”
I opened my mouth, but Michaela beat me to it. “Making out,” she said coolly. The cards had disappeared under her skirt again. “We’ve got a free period.”
“You may not spend it being lewd in private!” Ms. Wormwood stabbed a shaking finger at the door. “Go to your dormitory at once, Michaela! I will be speaking to the Headmistress about this. Not you,” she added as I made a move to follow Michaela. “You stay.”
That left me trapped in an isolated storeroom with a cougar rather than a demon. It really wasn’t much of an improvement. “We weren’t making out,” I said quickly. “Michaela dragged me in here. She was acting really weird.”
Ms. Wormwood’s bristling hair seemed to settle back, like an animal’s fur after a scare. “I did tell you not to get mixed up with Michaela Dante, Raffi. For your own good.”
“I know,” I said wholeheartedly. I really wished I could take Ms. Wormwood’s advice. “Sorry, miss. Can I go now?”
“I think we need to discuss this at greater length. In more . . . congenial surroundings.” Ms. Wormwood regarded me for a moment. “You still have a detention outstanding, don’t you, Raffi?” I nodded, and she smiled, looking unnervingly like a cat with a mouse under her paw. “Then you can do it with me, this evening, between dinner and Peer Assessment.” Opening the door, she cast me a last glance over her shoulder, a sly smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Don’t even think of running out on me this time.”
“No, miss,” I croaked to the closed door. I sagged down the wall, feeling like I was under attack from all sides.
I was doing my best to be Faith’s guardian angel. Now who was going to be mine?
Chapter 13
Krystal was still laughing as the two of us entered the sixth-year common room for that evening’s Peer Assessment session. “Oh, shut up already,” I growled, flopping down onto a chair next to Faith. “It wasn’t that funny.”
“Yes it was.” Krystal nudged Faith, grinning ear to ear. “You should have tried to get a last-minute detention too. Totally worth it. You know how Ms. Wormwood likes to set lines as punishment? Guess what she made Raf copy from. Go on, guess.”
“I don’t know.” Faith was obviously not in the mood for guessing games. She looked like a little kid waiting for a dentist appointment, huddled in her chair with her arms around her knees. She flinched as another group of sixth-year girls entered the room, pointedly ignoring her as they found seats. “What?”
“The K-k-kama S-sutra!” Krystal dissolved into laughter again.
“The woman is a sadist as well as a nympho,” I muttered.
Faith mustered a weak smile, though it didn’t really shift her drawn, anxious air. “Ms. Wormwood’s a good teacher, Raffi. I’m sure she didn’t mean anything by it.”
“Yeah, right.” I glared at Krystal, who was still helpless with mirth. “If Krystal hadn’t been there, Ms. Wormwood would have been chasing me around the desks.”
“You are so full of it,” Krystal said. She wiped tears of laughter from her eyes, smudging her makeup. “Faith’s right, Raf. Ms. Wormwood is a good teacher. Oh my God, she’s an utter genius. Talk about effective punishment. You’re going to be following every school rule to the letter now, aren’t you?”
“Damn straight.” I folded my arms, scowling. “Which is not going to make it any easier to thwart the forces of darkness.”
“Speak of the devil,” Krystal said as Michaela swept into the common room, surrounded by her usual cronies. She was as cool and collected as ever, but the other girls were talking in overloud voices, a distinct undercurrent of tension in their exaggerated gestures. The whole room had the nervous, electric energy of a locker room before a big match. Krystal stood up again, shouldering her bag. “And that’s my cue to leave.”
“I thought this thing was compulsory,” I said.
“It is.” Krystal shrugged. “And if it’s a choice between an F minus for not showing up, and a D for sitting under a steaming shower of crap, I’ll take the former, thanks.” She looked at Faith. “You sure I can’t persuade you to join me?”
Faith shook her head. “I have to try. Maybe Raffi will make a difference.”
“Don’t let the bastards grind you down.” Krystal squeezed her shoulder, then punched mine. “You do your job, Halo Boy.”
“Uh, what exactly were you hoping I would do?” I said to Faith as Krystal left.
“Help me get a good grade.” Faith swallowed, squaring her shoulders. “We’ve only got a few weeks left before the Ball, Raffi. Time’s running out. I have to meet my true love there. Or else Michaela wins.”
I still didn’t see how a kiss could close the Hellgate, but I wasn’t going to argue with someone who looked on the verge of vomiting with nerves. “Okay,” I said a little dubiously. “But I really don’t see how I can help with your popularity. I mean, this is girl stuff. Not exactly my domain.”
“You don’t have to do anything.” Faith wiggled her fingers by her forehead, as if to indicate a halo. “Just let your angelic light shine out, banishing the demons’ darkness and filling everyone’s hearts with peace and love.”
While I was still trying to work out how to do that, Ms. Hellebore ducked through the door, followed by a little old lady in a fraying cardigan. The room instantly fell silent, all the girls freezing under the old woman’s vague, clouded gaze like mice in front of a snake. “Good evening, girls,” she said in a creaking but kindly voice.
As a nervous-sounding chorus of, “Good evening, Ms. Henbane,” filled the air, I leaned over to whisper to Faith. “Why’s Ms. Hellebore here?”
“Anger Management exercises,” Faith replied under her breath. “And also to break up fights.”
I stared at her, but didn’t have a chance to ask what she meant by that. Ms. Henbane was addressing the class, a warm, grandmotherly smile on her wrinkled face. “Let’s start with a little self-esteem exercise before we begin the feedback sessions, shall we? I call this ‘Honest Admiration.’” She waved a stopwatch. “I want everyone to mingle for the next five minutes, with two constraints—tell the truth and only express admiration. Off you go!”
“I used to like this game,” Faith said miserably, as girls started to mill around, a buzz of conversation rising up. “But now no one ever talks to me.”
“Well, I will,” I said, edging a little closer to her. I would have deploy
ed one of my practiced smiles, but something about Faith made all my rehearsed moves fly out of my head. “I think you’re pretty great.”
Pretty great? Oh yeah, Raf, you silver-tongued devil. That’ll really wow her. From the way Faith was looking at me, though, you’d think I’d just extemporized a sonnet. “Really?”
“Um, yeah, actually. In fact, I—”
“Raffiiii,” trilled a girl, inserting her knockout curves between us. “I wanted to tell you that you are just sooooo good-looking.”
I blinked. “Okay. Um. Thanks?”
“No, no, not like that, Rafael.” Ms. Henbane had snuck up on us, like a geriatric ninja. “You need to echo the compliment.”
“What, like, give one back?” I said, eyeing the girl. Unfortunately, the first compliment that sprang to mind was likely to get me slapped.
“No, no,” Ms. Henbane said. “This is a self-esteem-building exercise. You have to repeat Debbie’s compliment.”
“Uh, okay. Thanks, Debbie. I am indeed good-looking.” And now I felt like a massive dork. This was supposed to raise my self-esteem?
“Good, good.” Ms. Henbane patted my arm and wobbled off, leaving Debbie still grinning up at me. Behind her, Faith was making her radiating-goodness-and-light gesture again, her eyes imploring. With a mental sigh, I stared hard at the girl, trying to visualize angelic power beaming out from me.
“Raffi, are you all right?” Debbie said in concern. “You’re looking kind of constipated.” She slapped her hand over her mouth. “Oops. That wasn’t actually meant to be a compliment. Let me try again. Is it true that you’re a male model? Because you totally could be.”
“Thank you,” I said dutifully. “I could indeed be a model.” Then I remembered the lies Suzanne had been spreading. “I’m not, though.”
“None of that rumor is true,” Faith said quickly. “We’re just friends.”
“Really?” Debbie’s eyes flicked from her to Michaela—who was staring at us across the room—and back again. She bit her lower lip for a second. “You know, Faith, I’ve always really admired your . . . hair.”
Faith’s face lit up like a fireworks display. “Oh, thank you. My hair is beautiful. And I love your sense of fun, Debbie. I’ve really missed hanging out with you.”
“That’s right. I am a lot of fun.” Debbie winked at me. “Maybe we could all hang out sometime?”
“Raffi, it’s working!” Faith clutched my sleeve as Debbie sashayed away. On the far side of the room, Michaela’s hands were twitching by her thighs like a gunslinger longing to draw. “Keep doing it!”
I had no idea what I was doing, but it certainly seemed to be working. As if Debbie had breached some invisible wall, Faith and I found ourselves surrounded by eager well-wishers. Most of the compliments were directed at me, but even the few halfhearted overtures dropped in Faith’s direction had her practically glowing with joy. And it was all down to me. I was saving Faith. I could already picture her gratitude—
A hand closed like a vise on my arm, yanking me around. “I can’t say what I admire about you,” Michaela growled. Before I could jerk away, she’d grabbed my chin, forcing my face down to hers. “So I’ll show you.”
“Yes, yes.” Ms. Henbane’s testy voice was barely audible over the chorus of cheers and whistles. “This is meant to be a verbal exercise, Michaela.”
Michaela released my mouth. “You were right,” she murmured, her breath warm on my lips. Her eyes gleamed as she stepped back. “It does make sense for us to get together.”
And here I’d been thinking Operation Demon Seduction had crashed and burned. I stared after Michaela in confusion, head spinning with more than just the passionate kiss. Surely, Faith couldn’t be right about Michaela and me being soul mates? The demon had to be up to something. Even for someone who’d just made out with me, she was looking a little too pleased.
“Time to begin the assessments,” Ms. Henbane announced. Behind her, Ms. Hellebore was now openly dozing. “We’ll go in reverse order tonight.” She consulted a tablet computer. “That means you first please, Faith.”
Faith took the tablet eagerly, holding it, screen out, in front of her and flashing me a confident smile. Ms. Henbane shepherded the rest of us into a single-file line. I was a little way back from the front of the queue, but I could still make out the POSITIVE and NEGATIVE buttons displayed on the tablet’s screen. It was clear that we were all going to take turns scoring Faith. I was still worrying about Michaela’s newfound passion for me, so I wasn’t really paying attention as the girl at the front of the line stepped forward. Then Faith’s clear voice cut through my preoccupation. “Thank you. I am indeed conceited and self-centered.”
“You what?” I said aloud. Debbie half turned at my outburst, casting me a questioning look. At the front of the room, Faith had her smile fixed on her face like a shield as another girl advanced on her. I didn’t hear what she said, but I saw Faith flinch. Then, “Thank you,” she said, with apparent sincerity. “I am indeed lucky that my mother is the Headmistress.” Ms. Henbane said something to her, and Faith closed her eyes for an instant before continuing, “Because that’s the only reason I’m here rather than in a mental institution.”
“They’re insulting Faith to her face? In front of a teacher?” I said in disbelief, as Faith agreed that she should indeed eat a sandwich once in a while. “A second ago they were sucking up to her!”
“A second ago we all thought you were single,” Debbie said, shrugging one shoulder. “Now there’s no incentive to risk going against Michaela.”
Up ahead, Michaela glanced over her shoulder to give me a small, secret smirk. My fists clenched as she strode up to Faith, who for the first time lost her desperately eager-to-please expression. For a second, the two girls faced each other, eyes locked. Then Michaela said something, and for one heart-stopping instant I thought that Faith was about to take a swing at her. Ms. Hellebore even jerked out of her upright catatonia—but Faith took a deep breath, stepping back from Michaela. “Thank you,” she said with only the barest tremble in her voice. “I am indeed wasting my life, just like my father did.”
I realized Ms. Hellebore, with a teacher’s unerring instinct for sensing trouble, was now scrutinizing me. I forced my fists to unclench. “You’re not going to join in with this, are you?” I hissed at Debbie, remembering how she’d snapped at Suzanne in History of Art. She avoided my eyes. “Don’t any of you have the balls to stand up to Michaela?”
Debbie huffed out a humorless breath of laughter. “Raffi, everyone knows how loaded her family is. And she’s promised that her very closest friend will get ‘something special’ at the Ball. Half the girls here would happily eat the other half for the chance to win the mystery prize.” We’d reached the front of the line. “If Michaela hates Faith, the rest of us have to as well.” To Faith, she said, “Look, you’re never going to make any friends here.” The tablet made a rude buzz as Debbie touched the screen, giving Faith a negative score. “Your life would be a heck of a lot easier if you’d just accept that and leave.”
Faith’s smile twisted slightly. “Thank you,” she said in return, for once sounding in wholehearted agreement. “It would indeed.”
“Raffi?” Ms. Henbane prompted me.
It took a lot of effort to make myself step forward. If Krystal had handed me a sword in that moment, I would happily have stabbed Michaela then and there.
Something special. Oh yes, the chosen girl would get something special all right. Cold, black tentacles wrapping around her, a gaping maw opening to latch onto her soul like a monstrous leech . . . If Michaela succeeded in opening the Hellgate, she’d need bodies for her demonic buddies to possess. And here she had her pick of girls, all desperate to impress her, all willing to agree to do anything, no matter how strange or wrong it sounded.
The stupid, stupid cows were competing for the honor of becoming a demon’s human hand puppet. And they were turning on the one person who was trying to save them.
> Faith read my expression, and her own slid into outright alarm. “Don’t, Raffi!” she whispered urgently. Behind her, Ms. Hellebore and Ms. Henbane had their heads together, their eyes fixed on me as they conferred. At the far side of the room, Michaela’s air of studied indifference dropped away, every muscle abruptly taut and ready as she too stared at me. “I’m fine. Don’t make a scene!”
It was excellent advice. Which I completely failed to follow, as the instant my hand closed on the metal body of the tablet, the device burst into flame.
Faith shrieked, dropping the tablet, which immediately set fire to the carpet. I jumped back from the spreading blaze, instinctively grabbing Faith and yanking her away too. The entire room erupted into pandemonium.
“Raffi, this way!” Faith linked her hand in mine, hauling me after her as she bolted for the door. Behind us, Ms. Hellebore was stamping out the fire with her enormous boots, barking at the screaming, ricocheting girls to stop panicking. The white flames were already dying down, but Faith didn’t pause. She pulled me right out of the classroom and down the hallway.
“Faith!” I yelped as she ushered me into a bathroom. “I can’t be in here!”
Ignoring my protests, Faith locked the door behind us, slumping against it. Her shoulders heaved as she panted. “Have to. Halo.”
“What?” I checked myself in the mirror and was nearly blinded by my reflected glory. “Oh. Shit.”
“You smote my Peer Assessment results!” Faith pushed back her disheveled hair in order to glare at me. “After I told you not to make a scene!”
“I didn’t mean to! It just happened!” I groaned as it finally hit me. “Metal. The tablet was metal. That’s why I keep setting things on fire. When I’m pissed off, my wings get hot, and if I touch something metal it must conduct the energy down. Like a lightning rod.”
Faith did not look impressed by this superpower. “Well, thanks to your temper, now I have to do my Peer Assessment all over again.”