Almost Demon (The Sigil Cycle) (20 page)

Ronwe’s sigil settled besides Ash’s.

I must be getting used to this. Didn’t feel a thing
.

“You have five minutes,” Ronwe chirped.

At this point, I was expecting Thom to interject but he didn’t. Fearing that the time would pass before getting any real answers, I started the questioning.

“Who is sending the Dybbuk to Harrisport?”

“Ah, so this is what you humans are concerned with. Ba’al always has his sights on ruling this world.” 

“So it’s him, then?” I asked.

“I never said it was. But if you are looking for clues about any demon who is remotely interested in this plain then you turn to those under Ba’al’s dominion. The other rulers forbid meddling.”

“But why come to Harrisport?”

“You know why, little lady.” There was a wayward twinkle in his eye. “You found it out there. In the forest.”

“The chamber?”

“Gemma,” Thom said in warning.

“He obviously knows about it,” I protested. “You can’t keep something a secret if it’s common knowledge.”

“Not too common,” Ronwe interrupted. “Those of us who sacrifice our existence in order to preserve our knowledge have been aware of the Seven Chambers for eons. Interesting to know who’s been going through the logs.”

“How are the Dybbuk involved?” Thom stepped down and closed in on us.

“Bah. A diversion tactic, no doubt. The real issue is the chamber and the means with which one opens it. Ah, but look,” he said, displaying the face of his Kermit watch. “Time is up.”

“I shall deliver your payment,” Thom said.

“But wait. If we can figure out how they’re going to get it open, we can stop them,” I said.

“Another day. Another favor,” Ronwe said and blinked out of sight.

With the pressure of surviving the summoning gone, I noticed the rain flooding and the hail popping in from outside. 

“Come on,” I said to Thom as I put out the candles and dumped the contents of our supplies back into the plastic bag. 

“Keep it here,” he said. “It will slow you down.”

I chucked the bag onto the ledge as Thom took me by the hand. When we reached the mouth of the cave, I snatched my hand back.

“Ouch. Why can’t I touch you? What are you?”

We stood there, pelted by gob-sized drops of freezing water. When they hit his skin, they sizzled and evaporated into puffs of steam that plumed behind his ears and off into the distance.

“I can’t explain right now.” He lightly caressed my cheek with the back of his hand and my nerve endings came alive. “You have to trust me.”

I wiped the sections of drenched hair away from my face, looked him straight in the eyes and licked my lips, despite the moisture already coating my face. I briefly let myself imagine myself in his arms, safe from everything that threatened to hurt me, knowing deep down that he was probably the only person with the ability to do so. I brushed the thought away like cobwebs.

“Okay,” I said.

A bolt of lightning forked through turbulent slate-colored clouds, followed by a thunderous rumble that shook both heaven and Earth. We gave each other a final glance and launched into a sprint through the shadows ahead.

C
HAPTER
S
EVENTEEN

Thom was a true gent, as I would imagine he would put it, and held his waxed canvas jacket over my head right up until we reached the front door. A frantic twist twist of the doorknob had us barreling into the house, making full body contact with a   disturbed father, pacing and mumbling up and down the foyer.

“Who’s this?” he hissed. His eyes were solid black and shiny, like marbles of hematite set into the sockets.

“Pleased to meet your acquaintance. I’m Mr. Flynn, Gemma’s English teacher.” 

My father stood and stared. “What happened to the other boy? Have you been whoring again? Just like your mother,” he spat.

“Dad!” I yelled. “You should go, Thom.”

“I didn’t get a chance to tell dear old dad about your performance. She is quite the student.” Thom didn’t wait for my father to shake hands. He put out both of his palms and lowered the finger that was still sticking in my face. “Leave her be.”

Fascinated, I watched as Thom gripped my father’s hands. As he muttered beneath his breath, the shadow of the Dybbuk began to recede slowly, revealing the clear blues and whites of my dad’s eyes.

“I’m sorry, Gem. I think I’m coming down with something. My head is killing me. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Flynn. You’re a bit young to be a teacher.” My father was back to normal. 

Whatever that meant nowadays
.

“Just finished uni. Had my heart set on teaching.” Thom gave his most impressive grin and I took notice of the small dimple that formed in the crease of his cheek.

“And what brings you here on a Sunday?” Taking notice of the disaster area around us, my father began securing the maps and piling his papers into neat stacks.

“Dad,” I started, completely annoyed that he decided to go all parental at the worst possible times.

“Gemma is a member of the book club I host after school. I was trying to get her some copies of the piece we’re reading.” Thom held up some pages running with ink and soaked through by the rain. “Unfortunately, I ride a motorbike and these didn’t fair too well.”

“Well, thank you for the extra help. I’m sorry you came all this way.” My dad headed for the door and held it open. “I think I’ll lay down for a bit.”

Thom took the hint and walked out. The weather had settled down.

“I guess there was no tornado after all,” I said, seeing the usual autumn leaves that had migrated from branch to floor.

“I’m not so sure,” Thom continued and pointed to the right. “Get a look at that.” 

Both my father and I poked our heads out, curious to see what could have happened. Down the road, trees had collapsed onto each other, flattening cars in a path heading south. Whatever it was had destroyed everything in its path. In the distance, sirens rang out.

“I hope no one’s hurt,” my dad said as he patted me on the back and returned to his work. I couldn’t bear to think of someone leaving this life in such a senseless disaster.

Waiting until I was sure he was out of ear’s reach, I tugged Thom’s sleeve. “What was that in there? How did you get rid of it?” I said in my quietest voice.

“It’s not gone yet. Once they get their hooks in, it’s hell trying to get them out,” Thom whispered. “Just be careful.”

Leaving me with that idea in the forefront of my mind, he walked back to his bike and was gone.

Twelve reported missing as rescue teams begin to scour the area after an unknown weather pattern rips through the Greater New York area…

A large crane suspended above a Manhattan apartment building collapsed today, killing six and injuring twenty. Five are in critical condition…

Passengers swim for their lives in frigid waters after an Alaskan cruise liner crashed into a glacier…

Dad was watching the news again and I didn’t want to provoke him by closing my bedroom door. Before the accident, those were the types of things that would set him off on a lecture about not wallowing in teenage angst. Now I was scared he’d just rip the door down in a rabid tantrum if the Dybbuk should rear its ugly head. 

So I listened to every awful thing that was happening while I filled my notebook with doodles that resembled sigils. The list of apocalyptic phenomena seemed to be growing so long that there were no more sensational filler stories about “deadly diet pills” or “killer bird flu.”

It was hard concentrating on any of my homework. My thoughts kept getting jumbled up between my alleged strange behavior while under Sylvia’s hypnosis, her supposed contact with Jenny, and Thom’s mysterious identity. All the entities I had summoned thus far had either feared him or been surprised to see him. 

What did I really know about him? 

Aside from him being a pretty cute substitute teacher, the rest of my evidence all pointed to doubt. He showed up out of nowhere. His skin didn’t bear any marks and he was warm to the touch. Not to mention the weird voodoo he did on the parasitic spirit using my dad’s body as its personal robot.

I slammed my chemistry textbook closed and collapsed onto my bed. The feeling of cool sheets relaxed me and I let my mind wander away from all the thoughts that were begging for my attention as I stared at the small cracks fissuring their way across the white ceiling. 

The one thing I couldn’t ignore though was the way Thom was helping me. I had never felt this type of control over my life and it felt really good. He even got me to get on his bike. And no matter what, he had always kept me safe. Even from myself.

I tried picturing his face again. The way he looked right into that deeper part of me. Before I knew it, I dozed off. 

Gemma!

Who’s that? The space felt vast by the way my words echoed and bounced. I tried to move but my feet felt like they were firmly planted in thick sludge. 

Gemma, it’s me.

This is a dream.

Part dream. Part something else.

Who are you?

You don’t know?

Sorry, but I can’t see a thing.

Lil sis. I’m offended. Forgot me already?

Brian? Where are you? 

This was one of those stupid dreams where you just hear everything happening and your brain just decides to forgo logic,  nonchalantly telling you to just play along while everything remains dark and sketchy.

You can’t trust him.

Brian. I can’t move.

You can’t trust him. You’ve got to stay away.

Trust who?

Promise me you’ll stop.

Stop what, Brian? 

I can’t stay.

Tell me, who?

My question kept floating on and on. When it was finally gone, there was no reply. Brian had disappeared. 

I woke up with a start. When I turned my head to the side, I found my dad hovering above my prostrate form, phone in hand. 

“It’s been buzzing. A lot,” he said, handing it to me.

“Sorry. I didn’t hear it.”

“Are you going out tonight?” he asked. The mattress dipped as he sat beside me. 

I sat straight up. “Have you been reading my texts?”

“And if I were?” He furrowed his brow. “You’re still under my roof.”

“I’m going out with Ian,” I said.

“That’s okay, pumpkin.” He kissed the top of my head. “It’s the other one I don’t like. Your teacher. There’s something about him that I can’t quite put my finger on.”

“He’s cool, Dad,” I replied. “So, can I go out tonight?”

“Yeah. I’ve got some research to finish.” 

“You work too hard,” I said. I stared at the indentation he left as he stood.

“I have my reasons, honey.” His posture was hunched and I could see the sadness in his face. There were more wrinkles smattering the corners of his eyes than I had noticed before. 

“You think she’ll come back if she finds out Brian’s dead?” I asked.

“Your mother was the stubborn type.” He laughed. “Once she dug herself into a hole, there was no convincing her to get out. If she did come home, it would mean she had truly changed.”

“Do you think people can really change?” 

“Not really, pumpkin. But then again, I’m a bit jaded at my age. You shouldn’t stop hoping. That would be a sad day for me.”

As soon as he left, I remembered the phone in my hand and started scrolling through my texts. I had two new conversations highlighted. I went to Charlotte’s first.

Charlotte: Hey. Just checking in.

Me: Hey. You alright?

Charlotte: Wow. Freaky storm.

Me: I know. Weird. Where were you?

Charlotte: I was gonna meet Emma at the Commons. Then Sylvia called and told me not to leave the house.

Me: Seriously? Psychic Sylvia?

Charlotte: Swear to God. All the trees down Old Country Road are down. I would have totally been crushed.

Me: Wow. Glad you’re safe. So was I totally possessed last night?

Charlotte: Nah. You were just muttering. Kind of sounded like pig Latin. Emma was blowing the whole thing out of proportion. 

Me: That’s a relief.

Charlotte: Oh btw, I snagged those free manis you wanted. Let me know if you can go. Figured we could do lunch together.

Me: Sounds perfect.

I had saved the best for last and went on to check what Ian had written.

Ian: We still on?

Me: Sorry just saw this. Dozed off.

Ian: Crazy night at Charlotte’s?

Me: Kind of.

Ian: If I were a fly on that wall.

Me: Not that kind of crazy. I’ll tell you about it later.

Ian: Make sure to wear a bathing suit.

Me: Huh?

Ian: I’ve got something special planned. 

Those last words had my belly doing flip flops. I had never been nervous around Ian before but knowing that he had planned our next outing took our relationship (whatever that was) to the next level. I had been so focused on solving the mystery of Thom’s identity and tiptoeing around my dad that I hadn’t had time to pick out my clothes.