Demon High

by Lori Devoti

  And maybe it did. Mine at least. I stared at the screen; I couldn’t tear my gaze away. Brittany’s movements were slowing now. She pressed her fingers to her eyes. Her back moved up and down, and I could hear her sobs.

  “She’s feeling it now too,” Holmes murmured. “She’ll die if she doesn’t leave that room, but she’s already losing the capacity to fight. Soon she won’t care at all, and then the gas will have done its work, and she’ll be too weak to even crawl the few feet it would take to get to fresh air.”

  “Oscar?” I said, unable to believe he’d just stand there and watch all this.

  Holmes turned to face me. “Fascinating, isn’t it? I saw him with you. He’s different then, but this, this is the lost one I know. Very typical.” He shook his head and stared at me with a new light in his eyes. “But you do something to him. Another element to look for, once I begin your examination.”

  He was talking about cutting me up, perhaps worse, but like Brittany, at the moment I didn’t care. I couldn’t stop staring at the screen. “When?” I asked.

  He glanced back at the monitor. “This? We’re caught up now. We’ll get to watch the ending live.”

  The knife lay hidden under my leg. I wrapped my fingers around it and threw myself at the doctor-demon-nightmare.

  Rage does strange things to you. Makes you do strange things, stupid even. Charging him was stupid; I knew it before my fingers touched the metal, but there was that non-caring again or maybe caring too much. I wanted him dead and gone. I was blind to anything but that goal.

  The blade sliced through his coat and into his back before he had a chance to react. He spun and tossed me back. I hit the ground next to Charles and slid. Things spilled from my backpack, littered the floor.

  I scrambled through them until I found the lighter and the candle this time.

  The rotten egg smell of sulphur filled the room. I looked up, afraid Holmes had opened some valve and was going to poison Charles and me too. But the demon’s back was to me. He was focused on the screen again, like a football addict waiting for the clock to tick down in overtime.

  Blood or something even more dark and ugly seeped from the cut I’d made in his back. The more it bled the stronger the stench grew.

  I sucked it into my lungs and took it as a sign that I could defeat him.

  But he was feet from my circle, and I knew I couldn’t banish him if he wasn’t inside it. Someone stronger, my mother, could have, but I didn’t have the experience and knew trying could just cost us all.

  On the screen Brittany whimpered. Holmes shifted his camera and zoomed in on her face. Her eyes were huge and lost, just like Oscar’s, but behind them I saw something else, knowledge. She knew what was happening. She knew she was going to die.

  I grabbed the candle and did the only thing I could do, the only option I could think of that would save others if not myself. I called Kobal.

  His appearance was fast and ugly. The room darkened and shook, and a chill fell over the space. I shivered, but didn’t move my gaze from my circle. Then Kobal was there, his face dark with anger and his wings protruding stiffly from his back. But big and angry as he was, he was still trapped under the dome of my tiny circle. He grew bigger until the tops of his wings were pressed down and touched the tops of his shoulders. He growled and his eyes widened. Then his gaze landed on me and he clapped his hands together, joyful like a child.

  “Lucinda, I didn’t recognize your call.”

  Holmes turned and stared, but seemed more confused than worried by the demon lord’s sudden appearance.

  “Ah, so you found him.” Kobal shook his head at the murderer, as if he’d stayed out past his curfew or broken some minor rule.

  I hadn’t really expected the demon lord to be annoyed that I’d managed to track down Holmes without his help, but I also hadn’t thought he’d be pleased. And that is how he sounded, like the proud parent of an honor roll student. “Oh, and he hasn’t been playing nicely.” The demon lord glanced at the screen behind Holmes. “Isn’t that your friend? I have to say, she doesn’t look well.”

  My focus had been locked on Kobal. Now my attention flew to the screen. Brittany was on her knees, her hands on her thighs and her head hanging down. Her hair covered her face.

  “What do you want?” The words burst from me. It was a giant mistake showing such emotion in front of a demon, letting him know how desperate I was, but at the moment I didn’t have the reserves left to hide much of anything. Besides, Brittany was dying. He had to know I’d do damn near anything to stop that.

  His eyes lit from behind. “I think the question is, what do you want? And what price are you willing to pay?”

  “Nellie and Holmes gone.”

  “Just Nellie and Holmes? No, Oscar? That is interesting.” He tapped his chin.

  At his name, Holmes moved toward me. This time I had the holy water ready. I sprayed. He screamed. Kobal laughed.

  “This one fights back.” The demon lord flexed the fingers on his right hand then straightened them quickly. Holmes smashed into the wall and hung there like a bug stuck to fly paper.

  While the serial killer struggled, Kobal turned back to me. “Let’s see, we were negotiating, weren’t we. You asked for Nellie and Holmes to be gone. What will you give me in return?”

  What would I give him? My fingers curled and uncurled; my skin felt itchy. I glanced at the screen. Brittany was swaying. I took a breath and stared the demon lord in the eye. “Nothing if she dies. I’ll give you nothing, and I’ll work to get your name and every demon beneath you removed from every demonology text there is. No one will know you. No one will call you.”

  His eyes flickered and for a second I thought I’d gone too far. I had threatened a demon lord. I didn’t need my mother’s experience to know that wasn’t a good idea, but I was desperate.

  Then he angled his head toward Holmes. “Turn off the gas.” He waved his hand and the killer fell to the floor, face down. Holmes raised his head and stared at me. There was hate in his eyes, more than hate. There was intent. He wanted to slice me open right there, was doing his best to let me know it.

  “Turn. Off. The. Gas,” Kobal bellowed.

  Holmes belly-crawled across the floor and reached under his desk. There was a click, a foot pedal I realized, but the thought was fleeting. My mind was focused on the screen and my friend.

  “Oscar, lead her out,” Kobal again.

  Oscar stared into the camera, his brows lowering, then he grabbed Brittany by the arm and dragged her out of view.

  “The boy too,” I said.

  “The deal was for—” Kobal began, but before he could finish, Oscar walked back onto the screen, slung the inert boy over his shoulder and again walked out. For a split-second, Kobal was perfectly still, then he smiled. “A bonus, for you, because I know you’re going to honor our deal.”

  I hadn’t made a deal, not one I was aware of, but I was wise enough not to point that detail out too blatantly. I had called Kobal here without normal precautions; I thought the circle would hold, but couldn’t be positive. And it was obvious he had power over both Holmes and Oscar. Nellie too, I had to assume. If he couldn’t attack me directly, he could certainly order one of them to, and he hadn’t, which meant he wanted me alive. I tried to think of why, what he’d asked for the last time we’d met. I’d been so sure I wouldn’t work with him.

  “You want to release other demons into the human world,” I said.

  He tapped his chin. “I did, but things have gotten a bit messy here. You didn’t take my help when I offered, and now there is a lot more work for me to do.”

  He was playing with me, and it was working. A sweat broke out over my body, but I tried not to let it show. “What more work? There’s less. I brought you to Holmes. You don’t have to search for him at all.”

  He chuckled. “Nice try. I’ll take back Holmes; you’ll keep Oscar and Nellie. Plus you take two more.”

  “Not like Holmes,” I said. “No kill
ers.”

  He made an “of course” gesture with his hands. “No killers.”

  “And low level. The lowest level.”

  He made a tching sound with his tongue. “That seems a bit unfair. How about this…no higher or more dangerous than Oscar. You seem to like Oscar. Would that work for you?”

  Two more demons that I set free on the world. My stomach turned, but I started to nod.

  Kobal held up a hand. “That was my original plan, but now I think we need to add on. Every night by midnight, you call me. Think of it as saying your nightly prayers or a goodnight kiss for sweet dreams. We chat, talk about the day’s events and see how the demons are doing. If all is well, things stay the same. If not, adjustments will be made. You talk; I listen and I decide.”

  I was still enough in my own mind to recognize this as a trap. “No more than two demons on this side of the veil at a time. None more powerful or dangerous than Oscar. And I call you once a week.”

  “Four demons, you’re forgetting Nellie and Oscar. And you call me once a day, every day.”

  I was once again in the process of nodding my head, when a voice called, “And what if she doesn’t?”

  Brittany stood in the doorway, leaned against it actually. Mascara ran down her face, forming hideous black tear-like streaks, and her clothes were torn and stained, but she looked better to me than I had ever seen her.

  Kobal twisted in his tiny space so he could face her, but he stared behind her instead. “Oscar, I didn’t expect you here.”

  From the hall shadows, Oscar stepped forward. He didn’t say anything and he didn’t make eye contact. He just took a place against the wall.

  “So, if she defaults, what’s the cost?” Brittany repeated. Her voice broke, and she coughed; she almost doubled over with the violence of it.

  Looking back at me, Kobal said, “You don’t plan to default, do you?”

  Brittany was still bent over, but just seeing her gave me strength. “What is the cost?” I asked.

  Kobal sighed. “The usual, a soul, could be yours, could be someone else’s.” He made it sound so mundane—just a soul, no big deal.

  “Who picks?” I asked.

  His eyes rounded in faux surprise. “Picks?”

  “If I default, who picks what soul you get?”

  “You only have control over your own destiny, unless someone gives you control over theirs too.”

  “So, you can’t just pick at random.”

  He laughed again, this time with what felt like real humor. “Oh, wouldn’t I love that ability, but sadly, no. No cherry picking for me.”

  I digested this for a moment. “I agree.”

  Kobal stood straighter. His feathers gleamed. He was pleased, too pleased. I regretted my decision immediately, but it was too late to take it back, and even if I could have, I couldn’t. I had to get rid of Holmes, and this was the only way.

  “Where would you like your mark?” he asked.

  “My mark?” I hadn’t realized the term demon mark, a mark showing a human had made a pact with a demon, was literal. I’d thought it was more something they carried with them in a symbolic way, a stain on their soul.

  “I like you; so I’m asking. In the past demons haven’t been so kind.”

  Kind. Demon. The words didn’t go together, at least not in this sense.

  Where wouldn’t Nana see it? Where wouldn’t anyone see it? A few places came to mind, but— “How do I get it and how big is it?”

  Kobal crossed his arms. “Pick or I will.”

  My mind was racing. I sorted through possibilities as quickly as I could, rejecting each and every option.

  While I was busy thinking of all the reasons I couldn’t have a mark one place or couldn’t bear the thought of Kobal touching me somewhere else, Holmes stood and launched himself across the room. He’d been lying so quietly, I’d forgotten him, but he obviously hadn’t forgotten me.

  In his hand was a scalpel. When I looked up, it was all I saw, long, gleaming and sharp. It was directed at my neck. I spun, my only thought to run, but Kobal reached out. The barrier of my circle moved with him, pushed out like a bubble. His hand wrapped around the back of my neck through the barrier. Something seared across my flesh, like a brand. I sucked in a breath and then lost the ability to breathe. He released me, and I fell forward onto my hands and knees.

  The back of my neck pulsed with pain. I wanted to touch it, but was afraid to at the same time. Then I remembered Holmes. I spun. Holmes was plastered to the ceiling, his eyes huge and the scalpel still in his hand. Kobal rammed his fist upward and called out a word I didn’t recognize.

  The ceiling behind Holmes opened into a gaping black abyss. He dropped the blade. It fell and landed on his desk. He tried to thrust his body forward, jerked like someone whose coat was caught in a door. There was a whooshing sound; his hat flew backwards and disappeared. He grabbed the edges of the hole. His body bent and folded into the opening. As it did, the hole became smaller, closing in around him. Then, as quickly as it had appeared, the opening was gone and with it, Holmes.

  I blinked, and everything around me changed. Holmes’ office disappeared, most of it anyway. We were still standing in some type of office, but it was dirty and strewn with trash. The only furniture was a broken chair and a beat up metal file cabinet. And where there had been solid walls, now there were windows. I could see out onto the street, see the neighborhood where we had left Brittany’s car.

  And standing out in the parking lot below us were Nellie with Angie.

  “With the demon goes his work,” Kobal sighed.

  I glanced at Charles. His stitches were still there, and he still looked a hair away from death.

  “Well, not that work. That work was real, but his created work, the illusions he built.”

  My gaze shot to the demon lord. “Was there more than this?”

  “Is that a question for me? Are you asking for another trade?”

  I pressed my lips together.

  “Too bad.” He cocked his head left then right. “Well, your new guests are ready for their visit, but this circle is a bit confining. Care to enlarge it?”

  I suddenly realized Kobal had messed up. His current circle was apparently too small for him to call the other demons into, and he hadn’t forced me to agree to enlarge it before we struck our deal. He hadn’t set a deadline for that part of the deal at all. I picked up the candle and knife.

  “Lucinda,” he warned.

  I lifted my gaze, but kept my head lowered.

  “Don’t think you can figure a way out of this. Sooner or later, I’ll call in my mark.” He rounded his lips and blew. A chill wind shot across my neck, into my neck, like a spike of ice had been driven down my spine. My head jerked back and I gasped.

  “And the mark is only a mark. Don’t forget what it symbolizes. Unless you fulfill your part of the deal, your soul is mine.”

  “But—” I suddenly realized I was the one who had been sloppy. I’d agreed to call him every day, with no limit on time. If I died on a day when I hadn’t called him yet….

  “Your soul will be mine.”

  I chopped the end off of the candle.

  Chapter 18

  Walking through the factory after I released Kobal was a bit of a letdown. It was nothing but a dilapidated old building—no maze, no secret passages. I started to feel as if nothing I’d experienced that day had been real, as if I’d been slipped some kind of mickey and hallucinated everything.

  Until we reached the main floor and found the first boy. He was slumped over in the middle of the room, exposed. And he was very much dead.

  “What should we do?” I glanced at the machine that sat a few feet away. Rope still hung from it. I walked over and tugged on a frayed end. “Holmes used illusion to mask the machine and make us think we were in a maze. Why couldn’t he have faked this too?”

  Charles was passed out. Oscar had carried him down the stairs. Brittany’s cousin, Joshua, was walking, sup
ported in part by Brittany but still walking. Thankfully, Brittany had recovered quickly after Holmes had disappeared which made me guess that at least part of Holmes torture had been illusion.

  Joshua took a few wobbling steps toward his dead friend. Brittany tried to stop him, but he waved her away. After giving him a worried look, she left him to deal with his grief alone. She walked to a corner and stared up at a camera. “This was real. Which means there are recordings.”

  “Recordings? Should we destroy them?” I asked.

  She turned toward me. She’d used her sleeve to scrub off a lot of her make-up, but she was still far from the put-together Brittany I was used to. “The police are going to want an explanation for this.” She gestured to where her cousin knelt next to his dead friend.

  Joshua looked up. “We were just having some fun,” he muttered.

  “I know.” It was all I could think to say.

  He focused on me, his face drawn. “Just some fun. It wasn’t supposed to be real. You didn’t tell us it was real.” Then he stood and staggered toward the door.

  I let him go. Nellie was out there. As much as I couldn’t believe I was thinking it, some time with her would be good for him.

  Brittany watched him, torment obvious on her face, but once he was gone, she pulled herself back together.

  “What are we telling the police?”

  I didn’t have an answer.

  “Were you planning on trying to cover this up?” She ran a hand through her hair. “It would be touchy. Joshua and Charles can’t just show back up at class without Brad. People are going to want to know what happened. And I don’t think we can tell people the truth, do you?” She was swaying on her feet. She was exhausted. We all were, but she was Brittany. She was going to fix this. I would probably have just gone home and let the police think what they wanted. In other words, run.

  I glanced at Charles. Nellie’s magic still had a hold on him. He hadn’t made a peep the entire trip down the stairs. “We need to get him to a hospital.” I was talking to myself more than Brittany, reminding myself how complicated the mess was.