Dating for Demons

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Dating for Demons Page 10

by Serena Robar


  I nodded in agreement, feeling better as she started to rally.

  “How are you going to stop the demon from possessing Thomas?”

  She blew her nose. “Oh, I’m not.”

  “Huh?”

  “I’m not going to stop it. I’m going to be right there when it happens.”

  “You’re not planning on destroying mankind, are you?” I asked, half joking. I’d never seen Colby like this before.

  “Hardly. I plan on trapping a demon.”

  “Oh, that sounds like a good plan. How are you going to go about doing it?”

  “I’m a little hazy on the details.”

  I nodded. “All good plans take time to work out the logistics. Except, I don’t think we have a lot of time.”

  She eyed me critically. “Exactly what did this talking cat say to you, anyway?”

  “He said Barnaby was on the move.”

  Colby stared at me in stunned silence. Apparently, she hadn’t been taking my talking cat story at all seriously.

  “And then what?”

  “Oh, that I might be a Demon Slayer because I got cramps whenever demon-possessed vampires were around.”

  “You might be a what?!” Her voice raised several decibels over that revelation.

  “A Demon Slayer. Have you heard of them?” I was surprised, because I never had.

  “You’re telling me some cat thinks you’re a Demon Slayer because of PMS?”

  “Uh, no. I’m saying the cat thinks I’m a Demon Slayer because my uterus contracts whenever evil vampire zombies are in the room. Oh, and because I can hear him talk. He’s really a Sloth Demon possessing a cat.”

  “What?!” she screeched again.

  “Yeah, like that’s any more far-fetched than you coming home a half-blood vampire who must defend her Undead existence.”

  Really, was it so hard to believe that I could be a Demon Slayer if she could be the half-blood Protector?

  “I was attacked and missing for two days. I was turned into a vampire. You’re saying you just woke up one day with an evil-sensing womb and the ability to speak to cats.”

  “Yeah, so? Maybe I didn’t need an attack to change me. Maybe it was inside me all this time and didn’t surface until I was ready to handle it.”

  She jumped to her feet. “Are you listening to yourself? You sound crazy!”

  “I sound crazy? Have you ever listened to yourself? ‘I was attacked again by full-blooded vampires.’ Now that sounds crazy.”

  “But that’s real. Those things happen,” she tried to argue.

  “And my being a Demon Slayer isn’t real?” I said quietly.

  “Can you prove it?”

  “Can you prove you aren’t going to bring forth the beginning of the end?”

  She threw her hands up in disgust. “That is totally not the same thing and you know it.”

  I stood up to face her toe-to-toe. “No, it’s exactly the same thing. It’s called having faith. I believe you won’t end the world so I believe the Prophesy isn’t true. Even though countless others believe it so strongly they are willing to kill you or die for it. I believe in you so much that I am willing to gamble the world, but you won’t believe in me when I say I’m a Demon Slayer who can talk to possessed cats?”

  Colby wiped her face with both hands trying to grasp what I was saying.

  “But it sounds impossible.”

  “No more impossible than vampires and zombies. But we now know they exist.”

  I was standing my ground. I believed in her. I had better because I was protecting her secret at the risk of destroying the world. Was it so much to ask that she believe in me too?

  “No one has even seen a Demon Slayer in years.”

  I straightened my back to stand taller. “I’m a Demon Slayer.”

  And as I said it I knew in my heart that it was true. That was why Hunter and I connected. We were the same. We shared this bond. It was who I was, just like being a Protector was who Colby was and being a Vampire Investigator was who Thomas and Carl were.

  “It’s too much, Piper. I can’t deal with this right now.”

  I looked around her bright and perky room. Colby was bright and perky but she was also dangerous and had killed. She could be all those things but I couldn’t be a Demon Slayer?

  “We need to work together on this, Colby. Barnaby is a real threat.”

  “Yes, I know it’s a real threat. I’m not ignorant. I get the implications. But we are talking about Thomas here. I think I can save him and destroy Barnaby at the same time and I don’t need some ‘Demon Slayer’ telling me how to be the Protector.”

  She referred to “Demon Slayer” with air quotes—as though I was pretending. As though I could add no value. Sometimes Colby really pissed me off.

  “If you can get off your high horse long enough, you’ll see I can help you with this. What if you can’t take out Barnaby and he possesses Thomas for good? Can you do what needs to be done?”

  She glared at me. “That’s not gonna happen. But hey, the minute I need the insights of a talking cat, I’ll give you a call.”

  I’d had enough. I stood up and left Colby without another word. She could be such a bitch sometimes. She never asked for help, always thought she could do it all and never thought about the repercussions of her actions.

  The week she was attacked, she’d been warned not to walk home alone or at night but no, Little Miss Nothing Can Happen to Me did it anyway and was attacked by a rogue Vampire and turned into an Undead. Do you think she once thought it was a bad idea to walk alone? Noooo, she just moved forward without ever thinking her actions had consequences.

  If she had swallowed her pride back then and called her parents to pick her up after Aidan took another cheerleader home, she would be a normal college student now. But she didn’t want anyone to know she’d been dumped so she walked home in the dark. Like she was freakin’ bulletproof or something.

  Would she do the same thing now? Would she refuse to consider the ramifications if she failed to destroy Barnaby after he fully possessed Thomas? Once Barnaby crossed over, he could destroy the world as the Prophesy foretold. And it would be Colby’s fault.

  If she had to choose between Thomas and saving the world, would she do it?

  For that matter, wasn’t I doing the same thing? Could I be called upon to do the necessary thing if things went wrong? I didn’t know. And I was fairly certain Colby didn’t know if she could either.

  What I did know was Colby was making a plan. Great, we’d use that as Plan A. Hunter and I would come up with Plan B, in case Colby failed. That was rational thinking. I would prefer to work with Colby and share information, but it was obvious she wasn’t going to let that happen. I couldn’t very well introduce her to Hunter so they could collaborate. He might try to kill her.

  It was hell when your best friend and your boyfriend couldn’t get along. What was a girl to do?

  Eleven

  COLBY

  I couldn’t believe that Piper thought she was a Demon Slayer. Had she finally lost her mind? Was having me as a best friend so much pressure for her that she had to invent some elaborate persona to feel like she could compete?

  Whatever it was, she picked a fine time to lose it. I could have used her help but now I would have to do everything on my own. I thought about enlisting aid from Thomas but what could I really tell him? “I think you’re being possessed by a demon and I need your help to stop it?” What if Barnaby had access to Thomas’s memories? It wouldn’t help if the demon knew I had a plan.

  Damn it, Piper. I really could have used your help! I needed someone to research the most likely time Barnaby would try to take full possession of Thomas so I could be ready for it. And I still needed to gather the right ingredients and find someone to create the symbol for me. That left using someone in the house. Someone who could be discreet and was used to keeping life-or-death secrets. It meant turning to Ileana. Oh, joy of joys.

  I rummaged through m
y desk to find the journals she’d loaned me. I vaguely remembered something in one of the books about symbols. As I thumbed through them, I was again struck by how crazy her father must have been. He blindly followed his Undead “Masters,” as he called them, convinced they were perfect and would honor him with immortality. Poor slob. He ran around doing their errands and bidding, only to be ripped apart when the vampires got a little peckish.

  I had an uneasy feeling that there was a parallel between his story and my relationship with Piper but I pushed it away. It was so not even the same thing. Piper was my friend. And most of the time she didn’t act like a loon. We helped each other. It was give and take. Not what Ileana’s father had with his vampire “masters” at all.

  I found the passage I was looking for with a triumphant “Aha!” Listed in the text was a ceremony requiring vampire blood as one of the magick ingredients. I read through the scene, trying hard not to hrmph the many references toward “The Exalted One” and his “Benevolent Masters.” This was exactly what I was hoping to find.

  I took the book with me to Ileana’s room. She was reading and listening to classical music while Sophie softly hummed along, hemming a new pair of pants. Ileana shopped like most people went to work. She considered it her reason for being.

  “Hi, there,” I interrupted, pushing the door farther ajar than it was and stepping inside the room.

  “Ah, so you’ve finally come have you?” Ileana announced, closing her book delicately and setting it aside.

  “You were expecting me?”

  She waved me toward the chair opposite hers. “Of course, though frankly I thought I’d see you earlier.”

  I joined her in the corner.

  “Interesting reading, no?” she said, referring to the journal in my hand.

  “Very educational.”

  She laughed at my attempt at tact. Her bright, luminescent eyes and perfect features schooled themselves into a pensive look. “A shame, really. Such devotion to such undeserving scoundrels. Even in life they were riffraff. Whatever made my father think that death would elevate them into perfection, I’ll never know.”

  I wasn’t sure what to say so I jumped right to the point. “Your father mentions a ceremony in this journal.” I handed her the book. “How would I go about getting those ingredients?”

  She reviewed the volume and gave me a calculating look. “Risky, what you’re considering.” Then she abruptly turned her attention to her maid. “Sophie, be a dear and fetch me one of Sage’s new concoctions, will you? I am feeling parched.”

  “Of course, mum.” Sophie jumped to do Ileana’s bidding and left the room.

  “What if it doesn’t work?” Ileana turned her attention back to me.

  “Ah, a ploy to get Sophie to leave.” I was relieved. “For a minute I thought you actually wanted Sage’s drink.”

  She gave a small smile. “At times, I have found having some small acting ability is not without benefit. Now about the ceremony …”

  “If it doesn’t work, I will take care of Barnaby myself.”

  “Really? He will be quite powerful in our world and wield all the attributes of that whom he possesses.” Her doubt had me second-guessing myself. I hated that.

  “I can handle it.”

  We stared at each other a moment longer before she replied, “Let us hope for all our sakes you can.”

  Sophie returned with a glass of foul-looking pink liquid. Ileana took a sip and smiled at her maid. “Perfect; thank you, Sophie.”

  I had to admire her acting skills because I’d tasted the stuff and knew it to be awful.

  “You will need these things.” Ileana put the glass down and scribbled a list of ingredients on a sheet of notebook paper. She had beautiful handwriting, spiked and loopy at the same time.

  She handed it to me.

  “Where in the world do I find this stuff?” I didn’t recognize most of the ingredients on the list.

  She let out a labored sigh. “Sophie, those pants can wait. I have another errand for you.” She yanked the sheet from my fingers and handed it gently to Sophie.

  “You can find these things in the underground, beneath Pike’s Place. You know the secret shop I am referring to? Beneath the comic book store?”

  Sophie bobbed her head in affirmation.

  “Tell Mira they’re for me, you’ll get the best price. Deliver them to Colby and our part is concluded.”

  I looked at Ileana in question. “But how do I … ?”

  “I said our part in your plan is concluded. I can do no more.”

  I got up when she went back to reading her book and Sophie scurried out of the room. At the door, I turned back one last time. “Where will I find someone to mix it and, you know?” I made a jabbing motion.

  “You need a Magick Engineer, at least a level four. Try Ms. Weatherbee at the college.”

  “But Ms. Weatherbee is my guidance counselor.”

  She looked up from her book in disgust. “Really, Colby, are you so self-involved you don’t see the things around you? Ms. Weatherbee is an accomplished Magick Engineer whose skill is greatly respected in the Undead community. She can help you mix it correctly but the”—she made the same jabbing motion back at me—“is up to you.”

  I muttered a thanks and slunk out of the room, properly chastised. Ileana did notice everything around her. She noticed whenever someone was wearing something new or had a different hairstyle. She even figured out that Lucy was a vampire spy and not an innocent half-blood, way before I pieced it together.

  I looked at the time and wondered if Magick Engineers kept vampire hours. Probably not. I would have to wait until the sun came up and try to find Ms. Weatherbee at school. I might even catch a class or two. What a novel concept. This Prophesy was playing havoc with my schoolwork.

  I thought about Piper and her claims but decided to dwell on it later. I couldn’t get into that now. Should I call Thomas back? He’d been so sweet before he fell asleep, just like the man I fell in love with … and then that stupid demon had to ruin our time together. How long did I have until Barnaby made his move to full-time occupancy? A day? A week? Longer? I couldn’t be sure. It seemed like it would be sooner rather than later if I could trust my gut.

  I went downstairs in time to join a House meeting in full progress. Aunt Chloe went on about the new weekly lists. We praised Sage for losing two pounds and talked about the success of the blood drive. Apparently, we were actually able to give almost half of the blood to the bank. Yay us. It still felt creepy, but maybe it wasn’t so bad. At least, I kept telling myself that.

  Sophie caught me right as the meeting was ending and gave me a small brown bag. I thanked her and took a quick sniff of the contents. Blech.

  I had just enough time for a quick snack before heading off to school. I passed Mrs. Murphy’s house and when one of her cats spotted me, it let out a long, miserable yowl. Like it was trying to wake the dead or something.

  I’ve got news for you kitty, I’m already up, I thought.

  It began to follow me. Surely I was mistaken. It looked like the same calico I made Sage take back after Sophie “adopted” it. The last thing I needed was a pathetic hanger-on cat who wanted to be fed. I had to eat myself. I turned back to it.

  “Shoo, cat. Beat it. I’ve got stuff to do today.”

  It stood still and stared at me with yellow eyes. I turned to walk and sure enough, the cat continued to follow me. Stupid cat. Fine, follow me all the way to school. You’re not my responsibility.

  I felt like a jerk walking ten paces in front of a cat who was walking in step with me. I decided to lose it at the Starbucks. I went in one side and tried to mix in with the throng of people waiting for their caffeine hit, then snuck out the side. I weaved around the back of several businesses and back out to a side street. I looked back. No cat. I’d lost it.

  I was such a freak, taking the time and trouble to lose a cat that was probably just following the smell of coffee and cream to get food. St
ill, I did give it the slip so part of me was pleased with my ability to lose a tail. No pun intended.

  I arrived on campus and made a beeline straight to Ms. Weatherbee’s office. It was seven in the morning but I was hoping she taught an early class and would stop by her office first. Luck was on my side because I only had to wait ten minutes before she arrived.

  She was of average height and size, dark hair pulled back with a barrette, juggling a briefcase, her coffee mug and a purse, while trying to find her keys. She looked like any professor on campus, probably in her thirties.

  I jumped up to help her by taking the keys out of her hand and opening her door.

  “Thank you, Colby. What a nice surprise,” she said as she dumped her things on her chair and desk. “Do you need any scheduling help? Are you thinking about next semester so soon?”

  She sat down in her ergonomic chair and took a sip of her latte.

  “No, Ms. Weatherbee, I’m actually here to ask a favor,” I replied.

  She seemed surprised. “Really? Well, I’ll certainly help if I can.”

  I handed her the list of ingredients and said, “I need help mixing these.”

  She tried to mask her surprise by making a great show of putting on reading glasses, which I suspected she didn’t really need. They looked more for show than actual purpose. After reviewing the list, she looked at me with a new type of respect. Or a new type of disbelief, I couldn’t be certain.

  “Are you aware of what this is?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Then you know how to administer it?”

  “Sadly, I’m aware.”

  She nodded. “Who’s going to do it?”

  I took a deep breath. “Me, myself and I.”

  “It’s best that way. Keeps the potion strong without diluting its purpose with another person’s energy.” She took stock of me for a moment then asked, “Colby, do you want some advice?”

  I nodded. “Desperately.”

  She shot backward in her chair and turned at the last minute to fling open a filing cabinet. She removed a vial that glistened and moved like mercury.

  “I suggest adding this to your mix.”

 

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