Dealing with Demons

by Melissa Haag

  “You’re real,” Clavin whispered. “Tessa, you see him, right?”

  “Yeah, I see him,” I said from behind Morik’s back. “He’s holding me prisoner, Clavin.” I felt Morik’s muscles twitch under my fingertips and quickly smoothed my hand over the spot, trying to tell him to wait. When he stayed where he was, I continued.

  “You have to go to the police and tell them. But be careful, Clavin. He’s not like us. You see his horns and eyes, right? Look at his nails and his teeth. Make sure you tell the police everything so they know how dangerous he is.”

  “Are you going to be okay?” Clavin asked with a quaver in his voice. I truly felt bad for him. Sure, he’d been an ass, but he didn’t deserve what he was going through now.

  I peeked around Morik again. Morik reached out protectively, so I didn’t get too far.

  “I’ll be fine, Clavin. He treats me well.”

  Clavin nodded, pivoted, and rushed to his car, his hop-step-gimp comical if not for the seriousness of the situation. Morik stayed positioned in front of me until Clavin peeled away from the curb.

  As the sound of Clavin’s car faded, Morik slowly turned. I dropped my hands and stared up into his carefully blank expression.

  “No, I don’t think you’re holding me prisoner,” I said. “Clavin needs help, though. That far-fetched story will give the police a reason to look at Clavin closely. Maybe he’ll get the help he needs.” I sighed heavily and dropped my gaze to the zipper of Morik’s jacket before admitting the downside. “Or he might come back and be worse than before.”

  Morik remained quiet, and I looked up again to gauge his reaction. He looked slightly amused.

  “Are you ready for school?”

  I couldn’t help the small, hysterical laugh that escaped me. School? My hands still shook. “Not really, but I don’t have much of a choice. If we don’t hurry, I’ll be late.”

  I leaned to look around him but didn’t see another car parked on the street. The garage did limit my view a little, though.

  Morik pulled a baseball cap from his front jacket pocket. It was worn and soft and easily fit over his horns and the tips of his ears. If I looked closely, I could see the outline of both, but to the casual observer, the cap would mask them. The bill also helped hide his eyes a bit.

  He motioned for me to follow, and we walked from the garage side by side. Any of the neighbors who watched would wonder how he’d gotten in there. It occurred to me that I didn’t know how he got into my room last night, either.

  “So you can just pop into places? Just like you pop into people?” Snow crunched under our feet as we walked down the driveway. I still didn’t see a car.

  “Yes,” he said.

  He didn’t expand on his answer and seemed unusually reserved this morning.

  “So, why didn’t you pop in sooner?” Previously cool air felt frigid, now. I tucked my mittened hands into my pockets and dipped my chin into my jacket in an attempt to stay warm.

  He turned to walk on the sidewalk, away from the direction of school. I stayed by his side.

  “Because I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to interfere. When you said he scared you, I considered it then. But when he moved toward you...” He didn’t say more for a moment.

  “Who’s Brian?” he asked.

  I missed a step and stumbled. Morik reached out a hand to steady me. As soon as I gained my footing, he let go and tucked his hands into his pockets. Our breaths puffed out in little clouds as we walked. I knew he waited for my answer, but I hesitated to give one.

  He stopped walking and turned toward me, tipping the brim of his cap up so I could clearly see his eyes. I didn’t say anything. We stood at the end of the block in a silent standoff.

  Finally, I gave in.

  “I don’t want anyone else hurt. Look at what happened to Clavin.” A snowflake drifted in the air between us. “Promise you won’t hurt him for something that’s in the past and forgiven.”

  Morik didn’t answer immediately. More snowflakes drifted down, settling in my hair, on our shoulders, and on his hat.

  He reached up and gently ran a finger over my cheek then down along my jaw, just as he’d done when he’d controlled Mr. Jameson. The heat from his fingers created a trail of warmth.

  Finally, he dropped his hand.

  “Were there more involved than Clavin and Brian?”

  I shook my head slightly.

  “If Brian continues to absence himself from your presence, I will do the same from his. I can’t promise more than that.”

  Morik turned and walked toward a motorcycle parked around the corner. Snow was rapidly covering its seat. When he lifted a helmet toward me, my mouth popped open.

  “Morik, you can’t be serious. I’ll freeze. Is it even legal to drive those things in winter?”

  He flashed a smile. “You’ll be fine. The school is just a few blocks away. I promise you won’t be cold.”

  How could he possibly promise that when I was already freezing?

  “This isn’t a winter jacket. It won’t protect me from the wind or the snow.” Though the snow drifted lazily now, I knew it would bite into any exposed skin once we moved.

  Undeterred by my argument, he stepped close and fitted the helmet on my head. His fingers were quick and his touch brief as he clasped it and closed the visor. Then, he removed a scarf from his pocket and double looped it around my neck before he tucked it into my jacket. I took over the tucking part. When I’d finished, he tested my bag to make sure it sat securely across my body.

  I waited on the curb while he dusted off the seat and got on. He held out a hand. I only hesitated a moment before I wrapped my fingers around his and swung my leg over the bike. I bit my lip as cold air gusted up my pant leg. I was sure I would be a popsicle before we ever started moving. The cold leather seat had already started to sting my skin through my pants. This would never work.

  He adjusted his hat, turning it backward, and slid on yellow sunglasses. A demon—I still didn’t know what to call him—perfectly hidden in plain sight. Taking me by surprise, Morik reached back, captured both my hands, and pulled them forward to tuck into his jacket pockets. The position pressed my front closer to his back, and his heat warmed me. Everything, that is, except my legs and butt. I hoped it would be a short ride.

  He pulled away from the curb with ease as if an inch of snow didn’t still coat the road. I clutched at him nervously for the first minute, but he drove slowly enough that some of my tension lessened. That made it possible to notice other things, like the helmet smelled new, and the scarf matched my jacket. Had he purchased them just for me? Unsure how to feel about that, I focused on the sound of the snow as it hit the helmet with little pings and pops. I could only imagine how it would sting if it hit my skin and appreciated the visor even more. Morik’s exposed face had to hurt.

  In a few short minutes, he pulled in front of the school and held out an arm so I could get off. I managed that fine, but the first attempt to remove the helmet gave me a moment of claustrophobia. Morik reached out to help and quickly and painlessly extracted me from its confines.

  Smoothing a hand over my hair, I thanked him.

  “Do you still want to come to dinner? We’re having roasted chicken. Do you like chicken?” I felt awkward and knew I rambled.

  He smiled slightly as he answered.

  “Yes, I like chicken. I’ll see you at five.”

  That was too close to dark just in case something changed, like my mom’s willingness to listen, and I still owed him extra time from last night.

  “Can you make it four-thirty?” I asked.

  He nodded, and I set the helmet on the back of the bike as it had been before I’d gotten on.

  “Thanks for the ride. It was interesting.”

  I took a step back. He eyed me a moment more, seemingly puzzled, then pulled away.

  I didn’t spend any time staring after him. Our unusual arrival on a motorcycle during a flurry of snow had attracted too much atte
ntion. Thankfully, Beatriz was one of the many nearby witnesses and tugged me, arm in arm, into the school.

  “You have to tell me. Are you two a thing? If not, can I have him?”

  A thing? With Morik? My mind still struggled to adjust to the reality of his existence. I couldn’t process any more than that. But her comment did give me something to think about. Other girls might be interested in Morik. Today’s world was vastly different from Belinda’s world. Maybe someone out there would be a better companion than I would. If Morik couldn’t interact with them, nothing prevented me from talking to them. I could be his liaison. All he needed to do was tell me who interested him.

  “We’re friends,” I said vaguely.

  “He looks older. Obviously not in high school. Is he over twenty-one?”

  I grinned. She had no idea just how far over twenty-one he was.

  “I’m going to talk to my mom tonight about maybe going over to your house this weekend,” I said instead of answering.

  “Great. My brother’s home, and my parents are out of town. It’ll be fun.”

  When I got home after school, the kitchen already smelled like roasted chicken. My mouth watered.

  “Need any help?” I asked Gran as I quickly discarded my jacket.

  “Nope. I did most of the work already, so I can sit when your mom and Aunt Grace get home. I don’t want to miss whatever this talk is about.” She slid another covered dish into the oven and reduced the temperature.

  “Was that pie I just saw?” I sniffed the air theatrically.

  “I’ll make you a deal. I’ll tell you what I made if you tell me what this conversation’s about.”

  “No way. No deals. No thank you.”

  She gave me an odd look but didn’t question my adamant response. Since everything was done already, we sat at the table to wait. Gran asked about my day, but I couldn’t recall much since I had a hard time concentrating on anything but tonight’s dinner while in school. I’d run the conversation I planned to have with my family through my head countless times during the day, and none of the imagined scenarios ever went well. I hoped the real one would go better.

  Mom and Aunt Grace walked through the door just before four.

  “What’s going on?” Mom said, pulling off her gloves. They both hung their jackets while watching me expectantly.

  Butterflies tickled my stomach as I met my mom’s gaze.

  “You might want to sit down. This is going to take a while. Just, please, wait until you hear everything before you freak out.”

  Mom’s eyes narrowed, but she nodded. Aunt Danielle sat up in her chair, her eyes open and watching, but she didn’t join us.

  I got up, retrieved Belinda’s book from Gran’s bedroom, set it in the middle of the table, and sat down.

  “Belinda was a young woman who lived around two hundred years ago.” I flipped open to the back of the book and pointed to the line of descendants. “We already know this just by looking at the births in the tree. But I’ve learned more.

  “Two hundred years ago, Belinda’s father worried about her future. Since he was poor, he couldn’t attract suitable prospects for her—you might say her choices were limited.”

  I paged back to the beginning of the book and eyed Belinda’s first instruction.

  “Belinda’s father made a deal with a creature who had very limited contact with humans. This lonely creature saw an opportunity. Knowing we feared him, he asked for an unusual payment in exchange for the money Belinda’s father requested. The creature wanted to present himself to Belinda as a possible companion. He hoped Belinda would consider him as an alternative to getting married. He offered to care for her in return for her company.

  “He wasn’t unfair or cruel in his fee. He didn’t demand that Belinda choose him, only that she give him consideration. If she decided to choose another, he asked that he be allowed the same chance with any descendants of her line.”

  Gran and Aunt Grace looked interested, maybe even captivated by the details of our past, but Mom had a glint in her eye.

  “Belinda’s father agreed to the terms without consulting with her. As you can guess, Belinda rejected the creature’s offer. She married and had a daughter. But, she was so angry that her daughter would have to face the same creature someday that she made a deal with another creature.

  “In exchange for the return of the money her father had given her—well, every penny he’d originally bargained for that she still had—she wanted the ability to hide her children from the creature. And hating her husband, she wanted her daughter to have foresight when choosing.

  “This new creature agreed to the gift of foresight but demanded a high price in return. Each husband would die prematurely. Their lives for a glimpse of our futures. Belinda also learned a chant to protect her children at night when we are most easily found.”

  Now that I’d retold the story, I had more questions for Morik. If there were more creatures like him, why didn’t he seek their company?

  I closed the book and smoothed my hand over its worn cover before looking up at my mom. Her gaze pinned me to my chair. She knew the worst was coming.

  “The first creature’s name is Morik. And he followed us despite the move.”

  My mom gave a pained groan.

  “He scared the bejesus out of me at first,” I said quickly. “But, other than breaking Clavin’s leg for hurting me, he hasn’t done anything bad.”

  Aunt Danielle chuckled a little from her chair, but I ignored it. I knew breaking someone’s leg was plenty bad.

  “When he told me the story, everything fit. When I asked questions, he was right about everything, except for how many descendants are left.” Everyone looked at me blankly.

  “He said four,” I clarified. “He can sense when something big happens to us...like when we’re born, die or, in my case, when Clavin and Brian bashed my face, and I was in pain. I think because Gran and Aunt Danielle are twins, he counted the two of you as one.”

  “Why are you telling us this?” Mom asked quietly.

  “Because I made a deal with him.” At her horrified expression, I held up my hand. “A small one. Ten days of no forced sleep in exchange for an hour spent with him every day. I did it as a test to see if he was telling the truth about the touch, the chant...everything.”

  On a roll, I jumped in with what Mom would consider the worst part.

  “I invited him to dinner.” I said it quickly, like pulling off a Band-Aid.

  “Tessa Bree Sole, you can’t possibly be considering him as an option.” Mom’s vehement tone made me cringe.

  Before I had a chance to respond, Aunt Danielle piped up.

  “Why not? Would it be better that she make no choice at all? You know as well as I do that the choice isn’t just in your head but in your heart as well.”

  My mom’s expression paled, and I turned to look at Aunt Danielle as she stood and glided toward us.

  “Pull out a chair for me, dear.”

  I did, and she carefully sat, lightly resting her arms on the top of the table.

  “Your Gran made her choice already at sixteen. She knew what she wanted. But I was more like you. I didn’t want to be forced into a choice, a choice no one ever explained.”

  I nodded my head, for the first time seeing someone who truly understood my position.

  Aunt Danielle sighed.

  “So I didn’t choose, and on my seventeenth birthday, I died.”

  She said it quietly, watching me with her soft grey eyes, and I didn’t believe her for a minute. Not until she moved her hand to cover mine. A chill penetrated my skin at the same time her hand passed through my own then through the table. I wanted to panic. Hyperventilate, maybe. But all I managed was a single tear. I thought back and recalled her touch as always cool, cold even. Since we were in a cold house, I’d never thought it odd.

  She watched me sadly as I struggled with the truth. Death. If I choose a boy, he died. If I didn’t choose, I died. Did Morik know the c
onsequence of the time limit he set?

  “If choosing Morik keeps you safe and happy, and no one else interests you, then you go ahead and choose him.” She leaned close and kissed my cheek. Her cool lips didn’t pass through me this time.

  Choose Morik? No. There was a fourth option. Find someone else that Morik might be interested in who returns his interest. With a different companion, how could the original deal still stay intact?

  Wiping the tear from my cheek, I glanced at Mom. It hurt to look at her tear-stained face. She and Gran clasped hands tightly, silently supporting each other. Aunt Grace smiled at me weakly, on the verge of tears herself.

  “Thank you for telling me,” I said to Aunt Danielle. To my mom, I added, “The pressure you’ve been putting on me to pick makes more sense now. But I’m not choosing anyone. At least, not yet. I have a few more months and will take it more seriously now.”

  I scrubbed my hands over my face before I glanced at the clock. We only had ten more minutes before Morik showed up. My stomach flipped when I thought of how he’d popped in last time.

  “So, about Morik coming to dinner. He’s different. Really different. Maybe even a little scary...” The more I thought about him suddenly appearing in the kitchen, the more I worried. “Just keep in mind that he hasn’t interacted with people much. In fact, he might not know to knock on the door before popping in.”

  Gran gave Mom’s hand a brief squeeze before letting it go.

  “Don’t worry. We’re experts with the unusual and will deal with this just fine. We always do.” Gran stood and briskly went about setting the table. Aunt Grace moved to help.

  “Mom,” I said cautiously. “Since I have ten days, I was wondering if maybe I could leave the house at night. There’s this girl at school who invited me over tomorrow.”

  “As if I could say no. This might be your only chance at freedom.” She got up and stretched across the table to kiss my forehead. “Just let me know who you’ll be with, where, and when. I’ll worry if you don’t.” She briefly touched my cheek as a reminder. Good thing she didn’t know about Clavin’s latest mental break. I wondered if he’d gone to the police as I suggested.