Demon Snare (These Immortal Vows Book 1)

by Kestra Pingree

  THESE IMMORTAL VOWS BOOK ONE

  KESTRA PINGREE

  Living in Fantasy

  Copyright

  Copyright © 2016 Kestra Pingree

  All Rights Reserved

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. Any unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal.

  This is a work of fiction.

  Edited by Shelby Schofield

  kestrapingree.com

  Summary

  A demon is hunting me.

  Most people probably don’t think a teenage girl knows much about the world, but I was raised with the supernatural. I know things most people don’t.

  My life used to be pretty normal, though. My only real worry was finally telling my friend Rynne, the cutest boy in my entire high school, how I feel about him. Then darkness came.

  Monsters. Demons. The one called Arsen killed my parents. He was going to kill me too, but he couldn’t. I feel like I know him from somewhere. And now he’s everywhere, watching me, isolating me, tainting my heart.

  I have to stop Arsen before his darkness consumes me.

  Table of Contents

  Copyright

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Chapter 58

  Chapter 59

  Chapter 60

  Chapter 61

  Newsletter

  Kestra's Books

  Stay Connected

  Message from the Author

  About the Author

  CHAPTER 1

  Tasia

  EVIL IS EVERYWHERE. Many dwell in its dark embrace without realizing the power it holds over them—without realizing its presence at all. However, not everyone is lost in apathy. There are those who recognize darkness. They choose a higher way of living, a life without evil. The desires of the latter group are why Reverie was created.

  The founders built Reverie, a small town in a secluded valley located in Southeastern Pennsylvania, so its residents could keep far away from the rest of the world. The founders were what some would call extremists.

  See no evil. Speak no evil. Hear no evil.

  The founders believed that if they kept themselves and their families locked away from the rest of the world, they’d be able to hide from evil forever. Reverie and its citizens lived by this philosophy, and that meant no visitors were allowed.

  I sigh as I stop typing. Writing a report about my town’s history is boring. Don’t get me wrong. There’s a lot of interesting stuff in our history books, but I’ve heard it all before. You can’t live in Reverie without being at least a little superstitious. I know more about evil and the supernatural than I know about what it means to be a normal teen living in a town that isn’t Reverie.

  I’m not saying evil and the supernatural don’t exist. I know they do. I just don’t think they’re as prevalent or as powerful as the founders seemed to think.

  There’s positive and negative energy all around us. There’s no way to completely hide away from negativity, but there are ways to protect yourself. The first thing anyone who knows anything about mental wellbeing will tell you is to think positive thoughts. Pretty much everyone in Reverie will tell you to do that and much more. The black diamond I wear around my neck is just one of many ways to protect yourself against negative energy. Herbs, salt, crystals, rosaries, amulets—anything you’ve ever heard of that can keep the bad away—Reverie has it. All of it.

  Invite no evil. It’s a simple enough rule to live by, and one that’s been drilled into my head since I was born. Maybe even before that. However, just because you shun evil doesn’t mean you have to hide away from the rest of the world. I think the fact that Reverie has been open for years now, to whoever wants to come here, whether it’s to visit or to live, means that the people of Reverie found that out for themselves eventually.

  So, back to that paper…

  “Tasia Wren!”

  I flinch as my name rings out through the otherwise dead-silent library. Reluctantly, I look over my shoulder to see Wyatt Conway running past people who look up at him in surprise or annoyance. Even after shouting my name, he’s still causing a ruckus. I plead with my eyes, hoping he’ll catch on and quiet down as he gets closer to me.

  “Sorry,” he says after someone hushes him—though his voice is still too loud. It’s always loud. I don’t think he’s capable of whispering.

  He strolls over to my table, my lonely table that’s somehow full despite only having one person’s workload on top of it. I slowly shut my laptop, waiting for him to say something, but he doesn’t. He just stares at me with brown eyes, an almost dopey smile on his lips. I notice a stray hair about to fall into his eye from his usually perfect pompadour.

  I ask, “Can I help you?”

  “I want you to come to the Halloween party my parents are hosting. It’ll be fun, Tasia.” He notices the stray hair when it attacks his eye. Then he whips out a comb to fix it.

  A sigh escapes my mouth before I can stop it. “You’ve already asked me about this.”

  “Please? I know your parents don’t like the idea of a Halloween party, but it’s not even on Halloween. It’s like the party in preparation for Halloween since it kicks off our fall bre—”

  “Try this: the whole town doesn’t like the idea of a Halloween party, regardless of when it is.”

  “The old people and your parents don’t like the idea of a Halloween party,” he slightly corrects himself, “but the rest of Pennsylvania does it every year! It’ll be fun.” He puts his comb back into his pocket, satisfied with his now immaculate hair.

  “Dressing up as vampires, zombies, ghosts, demons and the like is disrespectful to the dead,” I tell him automatically as I recall my parents telling me that exact same thing every day this month. Reverie may be open to the rest of the world, but its citizens still have a lot of rather eccentric traditions.

  Wyatt tries to justify himself by saying, “In case you forgot, my dad’s the mayor. He okayed it.”

  I shrug. A Halloween party does sound like it could be fun. I used to be obsesse
d with The Nightmare Before Christmas when my friend Didi showed it to me a couple years back. She said it was an old movie, but I’d never seen anything like it before.

  My parents are a bit more fanatical than most of the people living in Reverie these days. They make a living by counseling people about energy and how to protect themselves from troublesome spirits and other negative entities. They also sell items that protect against evil.

  I find it ironic at times, since neither of my parents are psychics, but they certainly know a thing or two about guarding against malevolent forces. They say everything starts with your mind and your intentions, and that’s why my parents wouldn’t approve of The Nightmare Before Christmas. They take things to the extreme. Because the characters in that movie are what my parents would consider “borderline demonic,” that’s reason enough not to have anything to do with the movie.

  My hand automatically goes to the heart-shaped black diamond hanging on the thin silver-chain necklace I always wear. It’s kind of a habit I have. Whenever I’m feeling nervous, my fingers find their way to my black diamond to make sure it’s still there protecting me from negative energy. My parents know a lot, but even they couldn’t help me when I started experiencing things most people will never understand.

  They started out as voices. Sometimes I’d see them. Sometimes I’d feel them. I was young when it was happening, but I remember shutting down. My parents couldn’t figure out how to help me. They tried cleansing our house with sage. They tried using salt barriers, giving me a salt bath to take in the energy surrounding me, anything. But none of it worked. Spirits attacked me constantly.

  That was when they went to Jazmin. Many in Reverie fondly call her a witch, but she’s an aura reader. She told my parents that my psychic energy is very powerful, and when everything they tried for me didn’t work, Jazmin gave me this black diamond shaped like a heart. My parents had tried different protection gemstones and crystals before, but Jazmin said this one was special.

  She was right.

  As soon as I touched it, the world grew silent. It became the same for me as it is for everyone else. No more voices. No more images. No more feelings that don’t belong to me. Just me and my own thoughts and sensations.

  “Tasia, seriously. Are you going to let your parents control your life forever?” Wyatt asks when I haven’t responded.

  “They aren’t controlling me,” I correct him. “They’re just looking out for me.”

  I place one of Reverie’s history books in front of me and open it up. I’ve never been good at just telling people to go away—even if they’re annoying me. I’d feel bad about it. I hate hurting people’s feelings.

  “Just think about it. Seriously,” he says.

  Lucky for me, Wyatt takes the hint and leaves after that.

  Good. Now I can finish all of my homework so I don’t have to worry about it tomorrow, since I’ll be going straight to my part-time job after school. Sundays are always too short.

  I somehow manage to finish everything just as 5:00 p.m. is about to sneak up on me.

  After I’m finished packing, I sling my heavy backpack onto my back and head for the library’s heavy glass door. A blast of crisp autumn air greets me as I exit the building. I shiver, and I’m grateful I wore a sweater today. Digging into my pocket, I grab my phone to call my mom. I continue walking as I concentrate on my touch screen, swiping through my contacts.

  “In a hurry? Behind schedule?”

  I jump in surprise and then sigh heavily as I see my friends, Didi and Connor Johnson. Their blazing orange hair always makes them easy to pick out in a crowd. It’s also usually the first feature I notice whenever I see them. That and the many freckles covering their skin.

  “I’m right on schedule,” I say, feeling just a little triumphant.

  “That must mean you finished your homework for the weekend,” Connor says with a mischievous grin. “And that means you don’t have any excuses not to hang out with us.”

  Didi matches Connor’s grin, but she elevates the look with a wicked gleam in her green eyes.

  Their resemblance as twins is impossible to miss. If their appearance doesn’t give it away, their mannerisms do. They’re so close I sometimes feel like a bit of an outsider. It’s not because they don’t include me, they just have a special bond I can’t begin to understand. I often feel like the moon to their sun, but I don’t mind it. They’re nice, and I prefer they get all the attention coming our way. I tend to dwell on the quiet side of the world. It’s where I’m comfortable.

  I’ve been their friend since kindergarten, though. That has to mean something.

  “But I actually do have an excuse,” I tell them sheepishly.

  “No! You can’t play the introvert card today!” they both shout. I don’t know how often I get words in stereo from these two. It must be a twin thing.

  “Why not?” I ask.

  Another voice comes from the library parking lot. “Am I late?”

  My eyes fall to the ground just as my heart feels like it’s dropping into my stomach. I know exactly who that voice belongs to. The tone is so sweet, almost airy, but somehow masculine and lovely, like wind chimes blowing in a soft breeze.

  Didi replies, “You’re not late, Rynne. You’re just on time.”

  I keep my eyes glued to the cement underneath me. I focus on the sound of Rynne’s footsteps as he comes to join us in front of the library. When he stops in front of me, I can see the tops of his black and white Converse.

  “Hello, Tasia.” His sweet voice caresses my ears again.

  “H-hi,” I reply lamely.

  I force myself to look up at him. My heart almost stops when he greets me with his perfect smile. I study his blond hair, cut short in an easy style, his luminescent blue eyes that match the sky, his evenly tanned skin, toned body…

  “We want to go to Fairytale Forest,” Didi says. “It’s perfect weather right now, and we’ll be able to catch the fall colors. I have to take some photos for my photography class, and I need you all to come along to help me.”

  “You mean, you want us in the photos?” I ask, biting my lip.

  “Yep!” She grins.

  I’m about to let out a groan, but then I nearly jump out of my skin when Rynne places his hand on my shoulder. “You don’t have to, Tasia.”

  “Uh, yeah, she does,” Didi interjects. “My assignment is about showing love. I need you two to pose as a couple.”

  I think I’m going to die. If I don’t spontaneously combust right now, I hope someone shoots me. This is so embarrassing!

  “Didi, you forgot your camera,” Connor points out.

  Didi places her hand over her mouth in feigned dismay. “I’ll go run and grab it. Rynne, Tasia, meet us in Fairytale Forest!”

  And then, just like that, the twins rush off, leaving me alone with Rynne. I start fidgeting with my hands, a nervous habit, as I stand still and unmoving. I can’t bring myself to look into his eyes.

  Rynne’s soft voice caresses my ears. “You don’t always have to say yes to everything Didi and Connor push you into.”

  “They’re just looking out for me,” I say, wringing my hands. Then, before I can filter the words coming out of my mouth, I add, “I’m okay with it if you are. It’s just for a photo shoot, right?”

  I can’t believe I just said that. I look up at Rynne to see what kind of damage I just dealt, but he’s still smiling at me. His lips are curved too perfectly and elegantly for a normal human. His features are like a painting or a statue crafted by a master. It’s not surprising that every girl in Reverie High thinks he’s dreamy. What surprises everyone is the fact that he doesn’t have a girlfriend. He’s probably turned down every girl in the school at this point—except for Didi.

  She never went after Rynne. Neither have I, but Didi is boy crazy while I’m… only crazy for Rynne. Sometimes I wonder if the reason Didi never pursues Rynne is because of me. It’s possible she doesn’t like him that way, but it’s more likel
y she just doesn’t want to steal him away from me. She looks out for me like that. Like an older sister.

  Then again, I didn’t start having these kinds of feelings for Rynne until after I got to know him. He sort of naturally gravitated toward me, Didi, and Connor when he first moved to Reverie last year. Why a junior had any interest in hanging out with us dorky sophomores, I still don’t know. Even then I thought it was fairly obvious he was way out of our league. All the older teens would have been thrilled to have him in their clicks, but he chose us.

  A year has passed since then. I hate thinking this is his last year of high school. I’m going to miss him next year.

  Rynne replies, “Shall we go, then?”

  I don’t know what the Johnsons are scheming this time, but I have a feeling it’s about more than Didi getting an A in her photography class.

  “I need to call my parents real fast,” I say, pulling out my cell phone.

  I try not to stare at Rynne while he leans back against the gray brick wall of the library with his arms folded. I consciously make my eyes wander instead as I listen to the sound of my phone ringing in my ear.

  “You finished at the library?” Mom answers.

  “Yeah, but some friends asked me out.”

  “Oh, okay. Don’t stay out too late, though. Be home in time for dinner.”

  “Okay. I will. See you later.”

  “See you. Thanks for calling!”

  I finally bring my gaze back to Rynne. He’s staring at me with those almost otherworldly blue eyes of his… How long has he been staring at me? I try to control the fire burning through my veins. My cheeks are hot. I really hope they don’t look how they feel.