by Ben Reeder
“If you see demons wearing red fighting other demons,” I said, “they’re kind of on our side, too.” It was my turn to be the focus of the room.
“What did you do?” Dr. C asked.
“Gave Dulka a reason not to join the other side,” I said. “He knows if he fights under Mammon’s banner, I’ll kill him myself. I just reminded him of that. But ever since we shot down his attempt to get the Maxilla through me, he’s been on the wrong side of Gedeon, the current leader of Mammon’s supporters. It wasn’t hard to get him to consider fighting for us.”
“Demons don’t do anything without getting something in return for it,” T-Bone said.
“If he does fight on our side, I agreed to grant him the domains of any demon we kill tonight.”
“You can’t do that,” a younger looking Sentinel said. He stepped forward and pointed at me. “Making deals with demons is how you got your power to start with. You haven’t changed. Corwin, I am formally-”
“Formally what, Pratt?” Dr. C asked. “Reporting yourself for insubordination? Remember, we’re already skirting the rules as it is. Polter hasn’t sanctioned any Sentinel activity in New Essex. You’re all here because you’re doing what you think is right in spite of what your boss thinks. Chance is doing the same. I don’t agree with his decision, but technically, he didn’t make a deal with Dulka, not the kind the Conclave forbids, anyway. And be very clear on this. My apprentice did not make a deal with a demon. He was sold to Dulka by his father. If I hear you or anyone else spreading that bullshit again, we’re going to have a problem.”
“If he didn’t make any deals, how can he give away a demon’s domain?”
“In Hell,” Vortigern’s cultured voice rolled through the room, “all of the possessions of a defeated foe are forfeited to the victor. The Seeker, and now Guardian of the Maxilla, can grant the domains of those slain by it as readily as the Wielder.”
“You’re just as bad,” Pratt said.
“I am indeed,” Vortigern said. “I work for one of Mammon’s chief proponents. A situation I am attempting to remedy at no small risk to myself, I might add.” Pratt shook his head, but he stepped back.
“Vortigern, what are you doing here?” Dr. C asked.
“Seeing my daughter and her friends off to prom, and ensuring her attendance at this juvenile gathering, thus, her safety. I believe the appeal of arriving in a limousine should overcome any objections over leaving their vehicles here.”
Dr. C raised his eyebrows at that. “That’ll work.”
“Sir, I can’t leave my car here,” I protested.
“You can, and you will,” Dr. C said. “If we fail, you’ll get your shot at the bad guys. Hopefully, what’s left of the bad guys. And if they get past us, you can call the Maxilla to you. So call Shade, let her know you’re on your way. And Kyle?”
“Yes, Wizard Corwin?” Vortigern said, looking at Dr. C with a cautious expression.
“Thank you. You’ve taken a load off my mind.”
“Glad to relieve you of your burden. Now, shall we?” he gestured toward the door. We filed out, leaving the grownups to plan. In the kitchen, I stopped long enough to grab the plastic box with Shade’s corsage in it before I hustled out the door.
“This doesn’t change anything,” Monica said as the driver opened the door to the long black stretch limo. “You don’t get to play doting daddy just because things are looking bad. You’re the one who put me in this situation.”
“In point of fact, I didn’t,” Vortigern said. “And I have been planning your rescue for years now. Ever since I learned the Gedeon was going to try to release his liege lord from his prison.” Monica frowned and pursed her lips, then got into the limo with Lucas right behind her. Wanda followed, making Vortigern take a step back. When I went to get in, he put a hand on my shoulder to stop me. “Our arrangement appears to have changed, Mr. Fortunato,” he said, his voice rough.
“How so?” I asked. “You said we were even.”
“If we survive this night, your debt of honor will become my debt of honor.”
“Getting a case of the feels, Vortigern?” I asked.
“Overwhelming ‘feels,’ Mr. Fortunato,” he said, his tone dry. I slid into the car, and he closed the door behind me.
“So,” Lucas said as I slid into the side facing seat, “still a go for our mission?”
“Green lights all the way,” I said. He pulled two paintball guns from his duffel bag, and I pulled mine from my backpack. “You going Hollywood on me?” I asked, nodding toward the two in his hands.
“This one is yours, Monica,” he said. “Just in case.”
She smiled and kissed his cheek. “You’re such a romantic,” she cooed at him. “None of the other girls will have a gun. I’ll be the best accessorized girl at the dance.”
“You know me, I love to spoil you,” Lucas said.
“Get a room, you two,” I said. “Or better yet, a shooting range.”
“I’m feeling left out enough as it is,” Wanda groused with a smile. “I want a gun.”
“Where demons are concerned, you are the gun,” I said. “Hopefully, though, you don’t have to be one tonight.”
“Yeah, we know how that usually goes,” Wanda said. “If trouble might happen, we go looking for it before it finds us.”
We fell silent after that, between checking the paintball markers and exploring the contents of the limo’s bar. Vortigern had stocked it with soft drinks and snacks, which we raided.
Twenty minutes later, the limo pulled to a stop. Outside, we could see the metal-sided buildings of an old industrial park. Most of the equipment was gone, but the frames remained. On the driver’s side, we could see a group of people approaching us, carrying familiar looking stun guns. Lucas slid to the passenger side door and I planted my butt in the driver’s side seat. Moments later, the doors opened, and we got out.
My left foot hit the ground and I stood up straight, bringing up the paintball gun in my left hand. There were ten people coming toward us, and several of them looked familiar from my time at Cult Dad’s place. The moment I brought the gun up, they stopped, then one pointed. They were starting to turn to run when Lucas and I started firing. In moments, all ten were unconscious on the ground.
“Well done, gentlemen,” Vortigern said from beside me. “I’ll handle the rest, then.” We got back into the car, and a few minutes later, we heard the sound of the passenger side door closing, then the limo started forward again. I texted Shade, letting her know I was on my way.
>>See you soon.
Those three words brought the first real smile to my face in a couple of days. It wasn’t much of one, but it was there. Life, I figured, might be worth living again. Even if it lasted for only a few more hours.
When we pulled into the curved driveway of Shade’s house, my heart was beating like a jackhammer in my chest and my stomach felt like it was going to hit the bottoms of my feet. I didn’t wait for the driver to get the door I grabbed Shade’s corsage and I was around the back of the limo and knocking on the front door before I remembered there was a doorbell. I pressed the button and hoped I didn’t come off as impatient. Mr. and Mrs. Cooper didn’t approve of me to begin with. If they knew the truth about me, I figured their opinion would go more toward shoot-on-sight.
While I waited, I checked my reflection out in the glass of the door, making sure Wanda’s work on my hair was still intact. She’d helped me comb it back like Lucas’s, but instead of letting it fall back loose across my shoulders, she’d pulled mine into a ponytail. A few strands of hair had come loose, and I ran my hand over the top of my head to try to get them to at least look like they were under control. The door opened when I had my hand on top of my head, naturally. Shade’s father stood there looking down at me in his khaki trousers and white polo shirt.
“Mr. Cooper,” I said while I pulled my hand down quickly. “Uh, good evening, sir.” Belatedly, I stuck my hand out. He looked down at my proffered hand,
then slowly extended his own. He squeezed a little too tight to be friendly and smiled just enough to be polite.
“Hello, Chance,” he said. “You look...nice.” Mrs. Cooper came up behind him, looking like a Stepford wife in a knee length blue dress. She looked me up and down like a hawk sizing up a rabbit, then smiled as she got closer. I wondered if she thought I couldn’t see her if she was more than ten feet away.
“Why, Chance, where did you rent that tuxedo?” she asked.
“It’s bespoke,” I said, watching her eyelids flutter as she processed that. The fact that I even knew what bespoke meant was probably almost as shocking to her as the realization that I had clothing that qualified.
“B-bespoke,” Mr. Cooper managed with only a little bit of a stutter. His eyes narrowed and he smiled before he spoke again. “Who is your tailor?”
“Mr. Hobart,” I said. “He runs a little shop in Boston. I’ll get you one of his cards, if you’re ever out that way.”
“Oh, uh, certainly,” he sputtered. “Thank you. Sue, why don’t you let Alexis know her date is here. I’ll get the camera and we can take some pictures before they go.” He turned and disappeared back inside and Mrs. Cooper went to the staircase to the right of the door.
“Alexis, darling,” she called out. “Your young man is here. Are you...oh, sweetie, you look gorgeous!”
Gorgeous didn’t do Shade justice. Coming down the steps, I saw the legs that first made me realize how attractive that body part was, long, lean and elegant in green hose. She seemed to float down the steps in a green dress that was knee length, with a longer, separate piece that wrapped around the back and fell to her ankles with a flare. She wore silver heels, and the dress had silver at the waist and at the neckline. With her red hair swept back and falling across her pale shoulders, she looked like a Celtic goddess descending from heaven to grace a mortal boy with her presence. She stopped a couple of steps from the bottom, and I saw her nose twitch, and she blessed me with the slightest of smiles. Then she took the last two steps, alighting on terra firma, and in my eyes, making it holy ground with every step across it, until she came to a halt a few feet away.
Less than five feet stood between us, and it seemed like light years. “You look amazing,” I said. “No mortal man is worthy of this goddess who stands before me. Least of all me,” I whispered.
She smiled and blushed, looking down and away, then she came forward and hugged me. I tilted my head to one side, offering her my neck, and she nipped at my earlobe. “Jasmine,” she whispered. “My favorite. You remembered.” She stepped back and I pried open the box, then wrapped the green wire stem around her wrist, letting the jasmine flowers rest at the back of her hand.
“I remember everything that makes you smile,” I said under my breath as I stepped back. Her dad reappeared with a camera in hand, and we posed in front of the limo for pictures. The driver finally cleared his throat, then check his watch.
“Well, we need to go,” I said. The Coopers made happy sounds as I held the door for Shade, then fell silent as I went around and got in on the driver’s side.
Shade took my hand as I slid into the seat beside her, but her eyes were still dark and distant. “I’m still scared,” she said. “And all isn’t quite forgiven,” she paused and brought her corsage up closer to her face. “But this goes a long way.”
Lucas, Monica and Wanda turned the limo’s impressive stereo system up high and sang along with every song that the digital radio service cranked out. Their good mood was infectious, and before long, Shade and I were joining them. Then they pulled up Bohemian Rhapsody. We all joined in, and Wanda got her phone out to record the whole thing. For a moment, I sat back, struck with a pang of self-awareness. This was almost normal. Sure, we were armed for bear, and yeah, we knew we might have to fight a horde of pissed off demons later that night. But for a few minutes, we weren’t the last line of defense for our classmates and our friend. We were teenagers going to prom. Something Shade said on my sixteenth birthday echoed through my mind. It was the little things, moments like this, that made the big things worth fighting for. Right then, hundreds of kids in New Essex were heading to prom, laughing, singing and having fun. Who knew how many there were across the U. S., doing the same thing?
We pulled up to the auditorium entrance at the Essex Civic Center and slid into the line of limos pulling up to the doors. There was a mix of black and white stretch limos, and a couple of stretched Hummers that were thumping. A couple stood with their upper bodies through the sunroof of the white limo three spots up from us. We finally made it to the doors, and the driver opened the passenger side door. Shade got out, looking like she was moving in slow motion, and I slid into the seat behind her, then did my best to look dignified as I got out. Shade took my hand and we stepped to one side while Monica got out and waited for Lucas. Wanda followed, head held high. Once we were all together, we started walking down the red carpet that led to the doors. Other small groups were waiting on the sidewalk and along the carpet. Brad and his group of clones were near the door, laughing and pointing as people arrived or passed close by.
“What happened to you, Alexis?” Brad asked, snickering. “You used to have good taste.” Laughter bubbled around him until Shade answered.
“I traded up,” she said. Ice should have been forming around her, her tone was so cold. We strolled on past, but Brad wasn’t done yet.
“Hey, Fortunato, you gonna let a girl do your fighting for you?” he asked, his voice loud.
I turned back to him. “This wasn’t a fight, and you didn’t diss me. You tried, but you failed.” I turned back and we kept going, with both Shade and me smiling.
A couple was standing near the doors, and I saw a familiar face looking our way. A dark brown face with wide eyes and long braids of black and bright blue draping over her shoulder broke into a smile that matched my own. Kiya tapped the shoulder of the guy in a white tuxedo, who turned to reveal himself as my roommate from my semester at the Franklin Academy.
“Chance!” Hoshi called out. They came our way, both smiling.
“Hoshi!” I said as he got closer. “What are you doing here?”
“Crashing your prom, man,” he said. “Besides, Kiya says you’re still-” Kiya’s hand clamped over his mouth a microsecond before I could try to do the same.
“Hoshi, you’re not supposed to tell him that,” Kiya said. “Especially not in front of Shade. It’s embarrassing enough for him.” Hoshi’s eyes went wide and he gave a quick, minute nod.
“Sorry,” he said, blushing. “And here I was thinking I was here to help you not embarrass yourself.”
“Tell him what?” Shade asked, a smile creeping across her face.
“Well, if I can’t tell him in front of you, I can’t tell you in front of him, right?” Hoshi said, his words tumbling out in a rush. “And neither can she. She actually promised to not say anything.”
Shade rolled her eyes but there was a smile on her face as she muttered “Wizards.”
“Loose lips aside, it’s good to see you again, Hoshi,” I said. “These are my two best friends, Lucas and Wanda. Guys, this is Hoshi, and this is Kiya.”
“It’s good to finally see you in the flesh, so to speak,” Lucas said, offering his own hand.
“I’ve heard a lot about you,” Wanda said. “And Chance showed me your pictures. He was right, you are pretty.”
Hoshi shook his head and brushed his hair back away from his face. “I prefer strikingly handsome, but dashing will do.”
“You forgot modest,” I said.
“I didn’t forget,” Hoshi said. “I’m just too modest to say it. All part of the perfection that is me.”
“Perfection,” Kiya snorted. “I’ll give you pretty, but lovable is as far as I’ll go toward perfect.”
“It’ll have to do. I am so unappreciated.”
“It’s good to see you again, Shade,” Kiya said. “It seems like every time we meet, it’s at a dance.”
; Shade laughed, then sobered. “I hope this one goes better than the last one. I never got to tell you…” She let the sentence trail into silence.
“Thank you,” Kiya said. “It’s still hard to believe. There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think about her.”
The mention of Desiree, even if they didn’t say her name, made my chest go tight, and I looked away to hide the expression on my face. I’d been with her to the very last, holding her hand until the very end. The last thing she’d said to me was to let her go, but there were moments like this one where I failed utterly. A warm hand touched my arm, and I looked back to see Kiya reaching out to me.
“I know you miss her, too” she said. “But you know she wouldn’t have let it play out any other way, right?”
“I know,” I said, my voice rough. “And she wouldn’t want us to be all mopey when we think about her. All she ever wanted was good things.”
“So tonight, we honor that,” Wanda said. “We dance for Desiree.” That brought to mind a song I’d heard on the radio from Suicidal Jester, and I nodded, since my throat seemed to have closed up.
“So, uh, how are we going to get you into the dance?” I asked.
Hoshi looked at me and winked. “We have that part covered. Part magick, part ancient family secrets. Watch and learn, my friend, watch and learn.” He walked toward the door and pulled out a plastic card that, if I didn’t look right at it, was a dead ringer for a Kennedy student ID. But when I did look at it, it just had the right colors in the right places. As they neared the door, Kiya raised her hand and gestured. A gray mist rose and hovered in front of their faces, invisible when I looked away but barely there when I looked right at it. It was illusion and suggestion, but not outright mind control.
Mr. Weber from my Art class was at the door taking tickets and checking names. Hoshi held up his fake ID card and handed him the ticket at the same time. As he bent to check the list, he raised his arm and pointed toward the auditorium. Mr. Weber followed the gesture and started talking, pointing in the same direction, apparently forgetting to check the list, and not noticing that Hoshi had handed him two bills instead of two tickets. Hoshi and Kiya walked past him, and Mr. Weber turned to us, taking our tickets and barely checking our IDs.