“Hers,” I say. “You’re a poor excuse for a stalker.” He looks a little relieved, and my stomach churns. I really need to ask him about yesterday. Connie raises an eyebrow when she gets near enough to see Carter and I shake my head slightly. Do not start a scene, Con.
“Carter, Thomas,” I say, introducing them.
They do that weird guy-nod thing.
“I saw the demon. He’s taken on Non form,” Carter says.
“Where did he go?” Thomas asks.
“If I were a demon, I’d go where no one could see me,” I say.
“Which is?” Connie asks.
“They’re at the movie theater,” a voice calls to us. The voice is fuzzy white noise, and we all turn, on guard. It’s a demon with mauve skin and round green eyes. Nons walk right past it, not even seeing it in the crowd. We probably look like we’re staring at the air. Sometimes demons can be invisible, but this is a new level of strange, talking to a demon in the middle of a food court.
Carter takes a step forward, but the mauve demon shakes its head.
“You should probably hurry,” it says with a smile before it disappears. We’re all quiet for half a second. I have never in my life seen a demon talk to a witch, let alone help one. Or three. This day is weird.
Thomas is on his phone in the next second, calling the Enforcers. This got too weird for us alone. While he talks, Carter gives me a look. He wants to go after the demon.
“We can’t,” I whisper.
“Aren’t you about to be an Enforcer? Why do we have to wait for them?” he asks.
I look at my sister, who stares at us intently. Even Thomas sends us looks while he answers questions and explains things on the phone. This is crazy. A demon just told us about another demon. Totally a trap. Or something. We should not go after it.
Thomas hangs up the phone just as Carter says, “I’m going.”
The four of us exchange looks and then, in a beat, we all take off in a run toward the theater. Nons jump out our way as we zoom past them. The crinkle of the black plastic over my dress flaps against me as we move. The corner of the shoebox jabs into my calf before Carter pulls me to a stop. He and Thomas start moving around the space to set up the glamour. Anyone who looks would only see an empty, open space, not three teenagers killing a demon.
The four of us surround the entrance of the theater. The guy—full-out decked in eyeliner, a black shirt and silver earrings in his nose, with flashing emerald eyes—stands before us, talking to a girl. His eyes turn brown again, just for a second. The Non is still alive, so that’s good. But the demon’s lips are close to her neck. One bite anywhere, one taste of her blood, is all it takes. They have no control. Once its saliva is part of her, it will paralyze her, contaminate her, and kill her. Or worse. Nons are the weakest prey, too trusting. Demons have a lot of uses for Nons. If they’re bored, they like to play. They like to eat. They like to make more demons. They just like to feel powerful. One bite and the outcome can end in too many unsettling ways.
“Glamour is set,” Carter whispers to us.
Connie walks up to the demon boy, and he turns his head away from the Non. She’s a pro at this distraction game. One glance at her, one sniff of her essence, and the demon totally forgets about the girl. She walks away, offended and a little confused. Whatever she could’ve offered, Connie’s is better. The blood of a witch is sweet and the essence, well, it’s why demons are public enemy number one. It’s our power over them.
“Do you have a phone I can use?” she asks.
The demon’s red eyes are completely focused on my sister. “Sure,” it says, pulling one out of his too-tight jeans. My sister fawns her thanks and dials a number on the phone. The demon moves closer to her. Then, the boys ambush.
Thomas moves first, tossing the salt on the demon. It hisses and its skin pops under the burn. Carter’s right behind him, iron pole that unfolds like an umbrella in hand.
“Behind you!” I shout to Connie as another demon jumps into our area. But my sister is quick, pulling her own stash of salt and iron from her tall black boots. Thomas leaves Carter and goes to help her. I move toward Carter. Since he’s here, I can help. Maybe I can contain the demon. Right before I reach him something tumbles into me and knocks me into the floor.
An older woman with graying hair pulled back into a bun. And demon eyes. Another possessed Non.
I think Connie yells at me in the distance, but I’m not sure. I’m too focused on the old woman demon sitting on my chest. I do my best to maneuver so it’s under me, but it’s strong—really strong for a demon in the shape of an old woman—and its claws are digging into my arm. One of them draws blood.
“Stupid witch,” the demon hisses at me.
Carter rushes at us. With a flick of the demon’s wrist he’s flying. A nail digs into my arm, making the wound deeper, and blood drips to the floor. It licks its lips. Something clicks inside of me at that. Warmth washes over me, filling me up and out. I order up my magic, letting the images and sparks build before I heave the demon across the room. It’s not me moving—it’s the magic moving me. And then somehow I’m right on the demon, my gaze boring into its.
The incantation plays on repeat in my head; I lift my hand in preparation to send out the magic. But I don’t have to speak. I don’t mutter the words at all. The demon shudders under my power and hisses at me, and somehow the skin of the innocent separates from her, slowly falling away like a snake shedding its skin. The demon screams, curls up into a ball at my feet, and peers back at me.
“What are you?” she mutters.
I tilt my head to the left. I’m starting to hate that question. “A witch,” I say, though suddenly I’m nervous. I didn’t even speak the incantation. That’s not normal at all.
“N-never seen a witch do that,” she says.
“Now you have,” Carter says, suddenly beside me. I look at him, but he doesn’t meet my gaze. I look back at the cowering demon and chant the expulsion incantation. The demon screams one last time before exploding across the ugly brown tiles.
Carter turns to look at me, something playing on his lips and in his eyes. He flicks his wrist, cleaning up the demon guts. Footsteps clack behind me, and Connie gapes at me. Everyone is silent.
“You just expelled that demon,” she says. I nod my head, not sure what to say. “No,” she says, separating me from Carter and Thomas. She whispers in my ear. “You weren’t pulling from me. I can usually feel it; you really expelled that demon. You have magic.”
I didn’t feel her either. Carter’s magic was stronger than hers, and it attached to me like a magnet.
The glamour fades away and the Nons start moving past our space again. Everyone else looks confused, and that’s when I see them. Or rather, their badges. Enforcers.
“This isn’t good,” Thomas mutters.
“No,” one of the Enforcers, a woman with bright red hair, says. “It isn’t.”
“Status on the WNN says a large amount of magic was used here in coordination with a demon attack—one that was called in—and from the looks of you, none of you should be doing magic,” the male Enforcer says. He’s a big guy with small eyes. Kinda scary-looking.
Connie steps forward. “There was a demon; we protected Nons. That’s allowed.”
“Did the demon seek you out?”
“No,” she says. “But—”
“Did the demon harm anyone in your immediate group?”
“No.”
“Then you had no right to track it down in a highly infested Non location.”
I snort. They made Nons sound like ants. Big guy Enforcer didn’t like that, and he shoots me a look.
“I can explain this all,” Carter says. The rest of us look at him. He moves toward the other side of the hallway and looks back. “If you will,” he says, pointing at the Enforcers to follow him. And they do.
I watch Carter talking with them, his hands moving and the Enforcers asking questions. They take down a few notes, but I c
an’t hear anything. What can he be saying to them about this?
“Penelope,” Connie whispers in my ear. “How did you do that without a spell? I didn’t imagine that, did I?”
I shake my head. No, she didn’t, but what do I tell her? I met some stranger who gives me powers? I can’t explain any of it.
“I’ve never seen that before,” she says.
Me either. It felt like my magic latched onto the demon and hauled it out. I didn’t make it do anything—it just did it and let me follow along, catch up. It saw what I wanted, and it happened.
“Don’t tell, Gran, okay? I’m not sure what that was but I don’t want to get her hopes up.”
Connie nods, draws a cross over her heart before handing me back my bags and turning to Thomas. I glance back at Carter, but he and the Enforcers are moving back toward us.
“Your friend clarified the situation, took blame for the whole thing. We’ve determined you under no fault,” the male says.
“However, we are giving all of you a write-up. Any future offenses will lead to repercussions,” the woman says.
“We appreciate that, don’t we?” Carter asks. We all say yes, and while the Enforcers take down our information, I stare at Carter. His eyes haven’t left me either, and it makes me nervous. That kind of magic, this situation, how he makes me feel, and our power—none of it seems like it should be this way. Yet it does.
After the Enforcers leave, we all stand in an awkward little circle. Now that we’ve broken the law together and killed some demons, there’s not much left to talk about.
“I saw you said in your text that you passed. Congrats” Carter says, nodding toward the dress and shoes I hold.
“Yup,” I say quickly. “Yup”? That’s all you’ve got, Penelope? Not even a whole word. I send Connie a glance to please help me, but she grabs Thomas’s arm.
“We’re going to go.” She leads Thomas away. “See you at home!” she yells back. I really need her to stop leaving like that.
Carter totters on his heels, stuffs his hands into his jacket.
“I don’t know—” Carter starts.
“I wanted to say—” I say at the same time.
I bite my lip, and he waves me on to talk first. I start walking and he falls in step next to me. My mind races with thoughts, but each of them is overshadowed by the one question: Why? Why does our magic work together? Why are we connected? Why him? Why now?
We’re outside before either of us speaks again. As soon as the door closes he escorts me away from the sidewalk to this patch of trees so we’re hidden from view.
“Thanks for Thursday. I wouldn’t have passed without you,” I say.
“It was no problem,” he says. He looks at the dress in my hands. “Ceremony is tomorrow?”
“Yes,” I say. Part of me wants to say come, but there’s no reason. I need his magic, yes, but I have to make my own way.
Carter looks at me. It feels like his eyes are seeing something more than what I am. It shakes me to my core. “You had powers before,” he says.
“I don’t really want to explain it right now.” Just thinking of my parents, of the way they died and the way I lost my powers, it’s too fresh. Especially after Thursday. That test was scary-accurate from the color of paint on my walls to the smell. I push down all those thoughts. They’re part of why I’m doing this.
He’s quiet again. My heart is pounding. I can still feel the magic flowing between us, tethering us together. The magic wants more action.
“We’re good?” he asks.
“Yes,” I say. Whatever that means.
Carter sighs. “Good. I have my part of the deal ready, Lo.”
I scrunch up my face at the new nickname. “I’m thrilled. What is it?”
“You know my hobby,” he starts.
“Your dangerous and illegal hobby?”
“That’s the only one I have.”
“Then, I’m aware.”
“My dad’s been giving me grief about where I spend my evenings. Demons aren’t exactly the type to frolic in the daylight, despite today’s fun,” he says.
“And?”
“And I need you to be my girlfriend.”
“What?” He can’t be serious.
“Not for real—for him. I need to be able to tell him I’m going out with you and it not be a lie. He knows when it’s a lie. If I’m with you, then I’m not lying and I can’t get in trouble.”
“No,” I say.
“You said anything.”
Damn desperation. “What would our evenings together entail? I have standards.”
“I can meet them. Mostly it will be demon tracking. I’m looking for this one, and I’m getting closer.”
“Just one?”
“For now. Sometimes they lead other to others, but this one has the answers I need. It’s easier to track them if you narrow your search. What do you say?”
Maybe I was wrong. I don’t have to do this. If Carter has knowledge about tracking demons, this could work. I can learn from him and use it to find my demon when it’s time for that.
“Okay.”
“That was way too easy,” he says. “Why was that so easy?”
I shrug. “I’m being open-minded. I’ll be your beard and you’ll be mine. It’s a win-win. But I have a condition.”
“Which is?”
“We need to figure out why our magic works together.”
“Fine,” he says. “My condition is that this position as beard has no timeline. It could be the middle of the night and when I call, you come. Plus, we are better together. My magic is smoother, for whatever reason, and I need all the magic I can get.”
“Deal,” I say. “Who are you looking for?”
Something dark passes over his eyes. “That’s a long story, too.”
He stares at me, like I’m a puzzle he’s trying to solve. It’s unsettling. We cross the parking lot in silence. When we get to my car, he looks like he wants to say something, but he doesn’t.
“Bye, Pen,” he says.
“It’s not Pen!” I yell after him, but he’s already gone.
I spent the next few hours thinking about Carter’s request. Part of me knows it’s stupid to go tracking a demon with him, but I’m also curious to see more of what our magic does. There must be a reason we’re connected. Plus, learning how to track a specific demon!
When I get home, Gran and Pop are both out. It’s Saturday afternoon so Gran is off cheating at bridge with the ladies. Pop is probably in the garage or pretending that he doesn’t stalk the Enforcers to see if they need extra help. Connie went to Thomas’s. Everyone is gone for a couple hours at least, so I could get some serious research done in a couple hours at the library. I hang up my dress in the closet and then my phone sings out the WNN tone again. I don’t want to look because for days it’s only been bad news after bad news, but I want to know.
This is no exception. The demons attacked again, taking out a whole Enforcer team in region five. This is just like fifty years ago when Alfie Spencer was alive. Alfie…
This is the perfect opportunity to find out something about Alfie. I race upstairs to the attic. If there’s something to find out then it will be recorded in the Umbra. Each witch’s Umbra has his or her own family tree in it, the history of our kind, and a collection of spells.
When a couple are Bonded, they merge the important pieces of both families into one so each family has their own book. It’s been tradition since our creation. When a family get too many copies, they can take the older ones to the library at the Nucleus House to be kept and documented.
I used to read Mom’s Umbra a lot after she died. I would trace the letters of her smooth handwriting until I could copy it from memory. I know all her spells and incantations, even though I never use them. Gran never let me touch hers. She said it was powerful and important. I’d watch her place it on the tallest shelf in a plastic case, and I remember trying to reach it, but my arms and legs were too short. Lucky for me
, I’m not short anymore.
Gran’s Umbra is right where it’s always been. I carefully open the plastic case and pull the book out. It’s heavier than Mom’s. The pages are thicker, rippled, and a darker shade of yellow. The cover is dark brown with a golden W for Warren embossed on the cover. The thing is heavy—I’m talking the whole Harry Potter series put together heavy. Those are some great books. Totally inaccurate, but great.
Bracing the Umbra, I lower myself to the floor. When I open the book it leans over more to one side. Two blank pages, and then I see the start of the family tree.
It starts with “Spencer.”
I find Alfie above Gran’s mother, so he is a relative, but some of his children are blacked out. Mom’s Umbra doesn’t have that, does it? I would definitely remember that. My eyes drift to the top of the page. Leo and Elizabeth Spencer. The beginning of our tree in the late 1800s, when we came over from Europe.
Four lines come off from their name: Clementine, Gregory, Charlotte, Matthew. Between Gregory and Charlotte, there’s a name scratched out so intensely that I can’t read what it says. There are even lines—two of them, to Beatrice and Clara—coming off the scratched-out name. I lean in closer. There are two thicker lines retracing the names to Matthew. That’s weird. Everyone else has a date of birth and death at the bottom, except the one marked out. It’s almost like someone made a mistake.
But no, that’s not right. If they’d messed up then they wouldn’t have poor Beatrice and Clara coming off her name like they were her children. Beatrice has children and grandchildren all the way down to Connie and me. Clara does too, but there’s a whole generation with people blacked out. People who had children of their own. Did they all die? Why would someone cross out this name and some of her children for eight generations? And why are there lines and names blacked out?
Something weird is going on.
I close the book and reach to put it back when something falls from the pages. It’s an old newspaper article that’s been preserved from March 1842. The font has faded in certain areas.
Powerful Family Offers Reward for Missing Daughter
Triad member Leo Spencer and his wife, Elizabeth, seek information regarding the whereabouts of their daughter. Emmaline Spencer (age seventeen, blond hair, blue eyes) was last seen the morning of the fifteenth day of March. She was distraught when she fled the Spencer home.
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