Almost Demon (The Sigil Cycle) (9 page)

Mr. Flynn finished the story. “So, what do you think?” he asked.

“Makes things a little less black and white. There doesn’t seem to be much difference between the two sides.”

“Nothing is perfect. God also lets things slide a bit and takes in souls that are unworthy of heaven. The two factions are in a perpetual war to keep things equal but it’s the system that’s in place. And it’s worked more or less for thousands of years.”

“So why would the Dybbuk agree to be used like this and why now?”

“My guess is that they would rather be stuck in hell than roam this planet any longer. Each one is a soul that has not been sentenced yet. Nor will they ever be. Their sins are enough to keep them out of heaven and they usually have something tethering them to this world - unfinished business of sorts, so they cannot even choose to side with hell.”

“Sounds like a loophole.”

“It very well could be. And we should get on sorting this trouble out.” He grabbed the stack of paper I had carefully arranged in a separate folder and looked through my work.

“I’m not so sure about this demon-summoning thing. Maybe an angel would be better for a first try?” I was afraid that he would think I was being silly.

“I guess we could give it a shot.” He smiled. “We’ll meet again tomorrow.” His voice was formal again.

“Sure. Anything I should work on, Mr. Flynn?” I waited expectantly as he collected his things and put on his awful wool-lined denim jacket.

“Figure out which angel it is we’ll be summoning,” he said, standing at the entrance. He made no move to leave and continued watching me. I sat, not moving a muscle, having a difficult time making eye contact. I finally looked away with the excuse of putting my papers away.

“One more thing,” he added.

I looked up.

“Call me Thom.”

When I was sure he was gone, I smiled.

In breaking news, it has now been confirmed that members of the infamous cult, Brotherhood of the Spear, have committed mass suicide on their private compound located in North Dakota. Sources tell us that sixty adults are known to have been staying at the secluded complex…

….only two people are known to have survived the crash. No word yet on their condition. 

….
record level rains in Taipei has caused massive flooding and mudslides.

I sat on the couch tying my laces as my father watched, engrossed in the day’s news coverage. 

“See you later, Dad,” I said, getting ready to leave for school. 

“Hold on a minute, Gem. Sit down,” he said, turning off the television. “I’m a little concerned about you spending so much time out of the house during the week.”

“Wait, since when?” I laughed at the absurdity. 

“It was a close call the other day at the library. Things are getting a little crazy lately, even in Harrisport. I need to know that you’re safe at home.”

“You get home after I do. What difference does it make? Pick up a phone if you’re that nervous,” I added. 

“Gemma, watch your tone. You know it’s hard to make phone calls while I’m in the lab.”

“What about my book club?” 

Take that. In your face. Can’t make me stop doing school stuff. Nah nah na nah nah.

“School, book club. Then home. It’s enough that you’re out there walking. What’s going to happen when it starts getting dark out?”

“I don’t need you to plan out my day for me. I don’t need rides to school. I don’t need curfews. I’ve been handling all that on my own.” 

All I need is for you to put your arms around me and tell me you still love me
. 

I grabbed my bag and slammed the door behind me.

Ghosty was standing on the porch today.

“Hey you,” I said with a salute, and off I went into the foggy distance, trying to forget the helpless look on my father’s face.

C
HAPTER
N
INE

“Gemma, awesome. You’re here.” Charlotte said, chipper as usual. 

“Nice outfit.” I had to give her props for the long-sleeved lavender lace top and burgundy wool shorts she was wearing today.

“You look super too, Gem.”

I looked down at my boots, jeans, and cotton top. There was a whole section of my closet that lay dormant. Skirts were off the menu because of my huge ugly scar. The rest didn’t feel like mine. It belonged to a happier, more carefree Gemma, who liked attention and spending time in the morning trying to impress.

“So listen,” she said as she checked herself in the mirror she had strategically placed on her locker door, and slathered on another thick layer of gloss. “I decided that this year I want a sleepover party for my birthday.”

“What’s the catch?” I asked, knowing that she always had her mom and dad bend backwards as payment for being stuck with them for parents.

She laughed and threw her arms around me with enough vigor to send us both crashing to the floor.

“Can you two dykes take it somewhere private?”

I heard Allison’s voice and then looked up, watching for any sign of the Dybbuk but only a pair of ice cold eyes stared back. Her and her usual gaggle of followers stood around us in a fit of hysterics. 

“That’s a pretty homophobic comment, coming from the student body president,” I muttered under my breath.

“Just try complaining, freak.” She spat on the floor next to me and walked away, her clucking friends not far behind.

“Nothing crazy. Just a few girls. And my again best friend,” Charlotte said, bringing me back to our conversation. The recent altercation with Allison hadn’t even fazed her.

I wish I could do that
.

“Sounds fun.” I was eager to get Allison out of my head and remembered what I had originally wanted to ask Charlotte. “How was the concert? You weren’t here yesterday.”

“Super! But I totally needed to catch up on my sleep.” She put the cap back on the tube. “Oh, and I got to meet the band. How cool?”

She scrolled through the pictures on her phone and gave me a play by play of the entire night. 

“Maybe you could trip on some free pedicures next time.” I laughed.

“I’ll see what I can do. Just. For. You,” she replied, tapping my nose to the beat. The bell rang and I watched Charlotte falter a bit on her five-inch platform wedge booties.
There had to be sensible shoes somewhere in her closet
.

Thing didn’t get interesting until lunchtime. Charlotte had rescheduled a test she missed while nursing some post-concert laryngitis, so I was left to fend for myself. 

“There’s my girl,” Ian said, taking the seat in front of me.

My girl. Ohmygod.

“Hey, yourself.” 

Could I play cool or what
?

“I was thinking,” his voice was dark and playful, “that we could take another trip soon.”

“I’m in,” I said, sounding a bit eager. I chose to ignore the entire conversation with my dad from this morning and instead focus on the way that Ian’s black-collared shirt made his neck look extra delicious. 

“How’s tomorrow sound?” he said in between bites of his pizza.

“Great.”

“So what’s the deal between you and Queen Bee over there?” he said, motioning to Allison who was busy exercising power over her table full of subjects.

“She was my brother’s girlfriend.” I left it at that.

“There’s got to be more to it than that.”

“Well,” I cleared my throat, “Allison, like everyone else in town, my father included, thinks that the car accident that killed my brother and my two best friends is my fault.”

“Why would they think that?”

“I was the one driving.” I kept busy with the salad I had gotten in an effort to eat healthier.
 

Would dousing it in Ranch dressing be okay
?

“And do you think it was your fault?” he asked.

I shrugged my shoulders and didn’t answer. He didn’t look very convinced by the story.

Senior year was on its own collision course, losing most of its purported luster on the first day. My thoughts were caught in a constant tangle of Ian’s smile and worry over what evil intentions the smoke-filled spirits of the Dybbuk had for this town. 

Alone again with Mr. Flynn, or should I say Thom, I decided to make a case for the angel I had picked. There was no way I was going to summon a demon if I could get out of it. Visions of red-skinned, horned creatures taunted me at the mere thought.

“So, after reading through the book and doing some research online-” I said.

“Are you daft?” he interrupted, his vowels becoming longer creating a more brogueish accent. “Was this in between searching for Katy Perry’s favorite color and pictures of Brad Pitt’s arse?”

“Listen.” I smacked the desk and stood up, meeting him eye to eye. “I have had with people either telling me what to do or telling me off. I am trying to help. So we’re going to lay some ground rules.”
 

Stay strong Gem. Don’t wimp out, no matter how scary angry he gets.

His pupils dilated and his jaw became stiff.

This was becoming a showdown. 

Don’t flinch. Don’t flinch. Don’t flinch
.

The line of his mouth began to curve into a smile.

“Go ahead, Gemma. Tell me about your rules.”

Teacher. Teacher. Hot Teacher. Not really. He’s just a sub and, technically, he’s still in college
.

For a moment, I lost myself in the endless pools of Thom’s dark eyes but the smirk on his face reminded me that he had just dissed me for my unconventional demonic research methodology. 

“One, you have to take my work seriously. I know I’m kind of new to this whole magic thing but I’m at least giving it my best shot.”

“Keep going,” he said. 

“Two, you need to try to be a little more predictable. Between barking orders and ignoring me, I can’t tell if all this is real. And three, you can’t just run off.”

“Pardon?”

“You do it all the time. Say something completely earth- shattering then pick up your stuff and leave.”

The clock ticked off a new minute.

“Very well.” He circled my desk. I could feel the heat of his body radiating behind me. “But let’s make something clear.”

His breath tickled the hairs on my neck.

“You will help me at all costs. That means getting your wee little head out of bed at dawn and working long after our little meetings. And this stays between the two of us.”

Before I could reply, I caught a glimpse of something black in the corner of my eye. The Dybbuk that had faithfully clung to the wall all week long had detached itself in a flurry of activity, circling around itself until it sped out the door.

I followed it out into the hall and continued down to the end where a large picture window stood overlooking the grassy knoll in front of the school. I looked to my left and right where the hallways continued on, spanning the width of the building.

“Run off, did he?” Thom said. “Curious.”

“Is there some way to track them?” I continued to stare outside and caught a flash of discolored shadow weaving through the parking lot. “Over there,” I said, pointing to the spot that was now empty.

“They can’t be caught if they don’t want to be.” He placed a hand my shoulder and after a few moments, the heat from his touch became unbearable. 

I jerked away and rubbed the spot beneath my shirt, which now felt raw. 

“What was that?” I shrieked.

“Let’s get to work,” he said, his face now a mask of indifference. 

In the classroom, it was back to business. I didn’t ask about what voodoo powers he may have and he didn’t mention them. Instead, he went back to trying not to taunt me too much.

“Please regale me with your findings. I have spent a great deal of time combing through ancient texts. I’d like to know what you came up with from your Google.”

It was now or never. If I didn’t pull this off with confidence, there was no way I was having a say about anything with him. Ever.

“Ambriel. I figured the angel of communication would, you know, communicate.” I flipped open the grimoire to the angel’s page. The letters of his name were gilded and illustrated in colored inks, like the ones found in hand-illuminated Bibles from the Middle Ages. They were vertically placed on the left hand side while on the right, small neat calligraphy went on to describe the angel’s rank, tasks and abilities along with, what I had discovered online,
yes, online
, was an incantation.

“Let’s give a go,” Thom replied. “Oh and before I forget.” He walked over to his desk and pulled out a package, which he dumped in front me. “That’s for you.” The way he tapped on the brown paper wrapped box exuded impatience. Anyone else would have me seeing red. From him, it was endearing.

The folds on the edges were so crisp that they must have been scored. I stuck my finger beneath the clear tape and inched it open with great care. After getting all three sides done, I peeled away the paper, revealing a stack of more paper. Cream-colored index card-sized parchment that was as smooth as suede beneath my fingertips.