Demon High Page 5

The girl he found was a sophomore. She also had a thick wallet, compliments of her CEO daddy. He’d dumped her mother six months earlier. From what Joshua had told Brittany, our client had already got a car and two trips to Mexico. Our little hosting fee was nothing.

  She had invited, counting Joshua, fifteen close personal friends to take part in the ceremony.

  After seeing her, I wasn’t surprised these “friends” were all male.

  “This is a cow pasture,” she said flicking a length of glossy brown hair over her shoulder.

  We were standing by the cattle guard, waiting for Joshua and the rest of her guests.

  “It’s also a cemetery,” Brittany informed her. “There are graves dating from the 1800’s there—slaves, land owners, criminals. You name it.”

  “Really?” Colette twisted her lips to the side. “Anyone famous?”

  Brittany darted her eyes to me. I looked away. I wasn’t getting involved in whatever tale she was weaving.

  “Oscar Mullin,” she announced. “He died when he was only seventeen, but he owned all of this.” She spread her arms out to her sides.

  Colette looked around. “Impressive.” She scuffed the toe of her tennis shoe over a dried cow patty.

  “It was then. He was the richest man in this part of the state at the time. The biggest land owner. He donated the lot for Caldera’s courthouse.”

  “Why isn’t anything named after him then?”

  It was a good question. I watched Brittany to see how she’d cover it.

  “He didn’t ask for it. Didn’t ask for anything. His parents and sister died when he was fifteen, a bunch of their slaves too. They all got some kind of fever, all but Oscar. What I read said he became a shell after that, just walked around not caring about anything.”

  I stared toward the trees, where the cemetery and Oscar Mullin’s grave lay.

  “So, how’d he die? Did he commit suicide?” Colette asked.

  Brittany had turned to look toward the field too. Her shoulder brushed against mine. “Not that anyone could prove. There was some kind of a fight. A man pulled a gun on another man, and Oscar Mullin walked right in front of the bullet. He was a hero.”

  Collette feigned a yawn.

  Brittany placed her hand on Collette’s arm and leaned closer, as if someone might be trying to overhear. “There’s a mystery tied to his death, too, though. The family was wealthy. His mother never went out without some piece of jewelry. Her favorite was a ruby necklace.” Brittany flashed her eyes to the side, checking her audience.

  Collette was with her now, her lips parted as she waited for Brittany to continue.

  “When he died, there were no heirs. They sent people in to claim everything. The furniture and household goods were all there, but no money and no jewels.”

  Collette’s eyes sparkled. “What do they think happened?”

  Brittany lifted one shoulder. “No one knows. Robbers could have got there before them, but since everything else seemed to be in place, they didn’t think so. They think Oscar hid it, buried it to forget the pain of all he had lost. People have been looking for it ever since, but no one has found it.”

  Just then three cars loaded with students pulled up. Colette glanced at them as if not wanting to leave, but finally jogged over to greet her guests.

  I looked at Brittany. “What’s with the story?”

  She shrugged. “She needed something to get her past this.” She gestured to a group of cattle who had wandered closer. “I told you image was important. With this, you need a lot of set up. You have a problem with it?”

  I shrugged. “Guess not, but why’d you have to make him sound all tragic and sad? And the treasure? That was over the top.”

  “Because girls like tragic, and he was. I may have embellished a little with the treasure. But the town did reclaim the property, and his mother did own a ruby necklace they never found.”

  I still wasn’t believing her. “Really?”

  “Really. I looked him up.”

  I pulled back, surprised. “You looked him up?”

  “Yeah, I saw his grave and got curious. Is there something wrong with that?”

  “No, it’s just….” I let the words fade. I didn’t know what my objection was. Then I realized there was no good reason for me to have one. I just didn’t like Brittany knowing more about the cemetery or who was buried in it than I did.

  “We’re ready.” Colette wandered forward, flanked on both sides by geeky looking guys who reeked of beer. One of them staggered closer to Brittany. He slung an arm over her shoulder. I waited, expecting her to shove him aside, but she rose on her toes and murmured something in his ear instead.

  Her cousin, Joshua, then. I frowned. It didn’t matter. I couldn’t have drunks wandering around my circle.

  Seeing my expression, she separated from him and stepped closer.

  “What?”

  “Are they drunk?” I asked. “They can’t go out there if they are drunk.”

  “Since when did you become liquor patrol?” she asked.

  “Since I agreed to call a demon for them.”

  “It’s Theodore. What’s he going to do, bore them to death?” Brittany asked.

  “Remember the big winged version of Theodore? The blazing face he showed later?”

  Brittany’s posture changed. She let go of my arm and walked back to her cousin and the two guys who had arrived with him. After a short discussion with Brittany doing much eye fluttering and waving of her hands, all three turned and walked back to their cars.

  Brittany strode back to me. “There. You happy? It cost us seven fifty, but I got rid of them.”

  I watched the three over her shoulder. They reached inside the vehicle and pulled out a six-pack. “They aren’t leaving,” I replied.

  She made a blustering sound. “You want me to put them on the road like that?” One of them moved to smack another in the arm. He missed and rolled onto the ground instead. The other two broke into fits of laughter.

  I thinned my lips. “I guess not, but next time make sure they know the rules up front. No alcohol.”

  “No alcohol. Got you, sergeant.” She clicked her heels together and gave me a salute.

  Ignoring her act, I walked past her to where Colette and the others waited. I spent ten wasted minutes trying to get across that this was serious and they had to act like it. After about the thousandth snort, I gave up.

  o0o

  As we walked, Brittany loaded on the spooky talk and babbled stuff about not disturbing the spirits.

  “Oscar Mullin still walks these grounds. He’s been seen coming out of this cemetery carrying a candle—supposedly on a never-ending search for a doctor to help his family.”

  I shot her a sideways look.

  “That part I made up,” she whispered in my ear. I arched my brows, but annoyed as I was, I didn’t give her away. She knew how to work the crowd. They were all silent, their eyes big and watchful. Not a single sign of male bravado.

  I motioned toward the fence. Colette, Brittany and the remaining guys all lined up nicely behind it.

  I picked up the candle. I could hear our clients shuffling a little as I worked. As I handled my tools, I got lost in the work. I forgot I had an audience, forgot everything but what I was doing.

  I lit the candle, rang the bell and chanted for Theodore. The last time he’d appeared as soon as the last chime of the bell sounded. This time the circle remained empty. Behind me Brittany cleared her throat, reminding me I wasn’t alone.

  I kept chanting, but didn’t return to the happy focused place that I had been. I could hear Brittany doing something. I didn’t know what, but I guessed she was improvising, adding some part to the ceremony to increase her clients’ anticipation, hold their interest and help her keep her money. My voice grew harsher.

  A hum started behind me….not a hum, a chant. My name and…I worked to make out the words. Low and steady the group behind me murmured. “Lucinda Marie Dent, we give you our pow
er. Use it to call and bind this demon.” Over and over they repeated the words, and strangely they helped. Energy poured into me, and new intent strengthened my chant. Then I felt it, like a thumb pinging a taut guitar string. And Theodore stood in the circle, fell actually, as if he’d been pushed—or pulled there.

  The chant behind me was cut off mid-word by a sharp inhalation of breath. The crowd had got what they’d come for, a demon. I smiled, relieved and happy, confident I’d proven myself. But Theodore looked unimpressive, scared even.

  He had landed on his knees. His face, tilting up at something I couldn’t see, was pale, and his hair was mussed. He mumbled and seemed to shake; then suddenly he glanced up. His gaze locked onto me. “You’re back,” he said. He didn’t look happy. For one horrible moment, I actually thought he might cry, but just as quickly he seemed to shake the emotion off, jumped to his feet and strode to the edge of the circle.

  “Ah, a good crowd—far from my biggest, of course, but reasonable.” He leaned forward. I got the impression he was counting the students. He glanced at me. “Heavy on the male front, isn’t it? You think I should change my material?” Without waiting for a response, he erupted in flames.

  Behind me, Colette screamed. I spun, electrified into action by the possibility of the crowd breaking and leaving the cemetery, charging the circle even, but Colette’s scream seemed to have saved me. Half the guys were gathered around her, grabbing for her hand, or murmuring to her. The others stood stiffly, their gazes glued on Theodore.

  Brittany caught my look and moved toward the second cluster. After she’d positioned herself beside them, ready to act if any of them tried to bolt, I turned back to Theodore.

  The flames around him died. And my heart beat slowed to a steady thump.

  “How was that? Did I get them fired up?” He slapped his hands together and glanced to his left, as if looking off stage. The inside of the circle flickered, like when electricity shorts out for a second, and Theodore disappeared. I blinked, not sure what to make of it. A demon couldn’t leave a circle until released, but then Theodore was back almost as quickly as he’d faded. I decided my mind was playing tricks.

  ”Want something else? How about meeting a few of my friends?” He morphed into dark-haired man wearing a huge handlebar moustache and a bowler hat. The sleeves of his coat were shoved up and his arms were covered in blood to his elbows. At his arrival, new screams erupted, but this time from inside the circle.

  My gaze darted over the ground, searching for the source of the screams, but aside from the demon, the circle was empty. For some reason the lack of visible source was disturbing. I told myself the screams were part of Theodore’s act, that despite his altered appearance, it was still the harmless vaudevillian standing there, but some primal part of me didn’t buy it. I froze.

  Theodore, or whoever he was now, stepped forward. “Do you hear them? Sweet aren’t they?” A metal knob appeared by his hand. “One twist and it’s over. I told them that—they beg for it. But then the fun would end too soon. Don’t you think?” He leered out into his audience—us. “Would any of you like to join me at my hotel?”

  My doubt turned to gut-twisting certainty. This was wrong. The voice, the pleasure lurking beneath the words… the demon I was staring at couldn’t be Theodore; he wasn’t that good at acting.

  As soon as the doubt formed, Theodore was back. “Oops, not too enticing, was he? Time for another.” There was a whoosh and a woman of around forty stood in front of us. She wore a dress of heavy brocade that left her pale shoulders bare. Her hair was pulled back, but with two thick strands of ringlets falling forward over her shoulders. She sauntered forward, each step oozing with sexual energy and confidence.

  “Did someone call for a whore?” Her thick British accent made the word “whore” sound regal. She peered out at us, her lips thinning. “They’re too bloody young for me.” She looked to the side, much as Theodore had done earlier. “You’ll have to fix that.”

  There was a subtle blur over her face and body, and suddenly she’d lost ten pounds and twenty years. She stared down at the back of her hand. “Oh, much better.” When she looked back up, her smile was even more enticing. “Wouldn’t one of you lads like to come and chat with me?” She held out one hand.

  There were murmurs behind me, low and urgent. I clapped my hands together, but the demon didn’t flicker an eyelash toward me.

  “You, with the broad shoulders.” She pointed, then smiled. “Yes, you. My shoe seems to have come loose.” She pulled the skirt of her dress up revealing a curved calf and a torturous-looking shoe. “Could you be of help?”

  I heard Brittany hiss, “Don’t.”

  “Theodore,” I called, even though I was more confused than ever as to whether I was looking at Theodore in drag, or some completely different demon. “This is not what we discussed.”

  The beauty in the circle ignored me. She walked to the other side of the enclosure instead. Her hands on her hips, she seemed to be arguing with someone. She glanced back at me, her eyes narrowed. Then with no warning, she was gone, and Theodore stood in her place.

  “Did we have an agreement?” he asked. “It’s hard to remember. I have so many commitments.” He looked at me, intent as if he was trying to relay something beyond what his words contained. Then he flinched.

  Tension bloomed in my chest. “Theodore?” I called, but he didn’t answer, seemed unable to answer.

  “Yes, yes, of course,” he mumbled. Then he was gone. Again another demon…a man stood in his place. This one was young, about my age, with curly hair that brushed his shoulders. There was a crease between his midnight blue eyes. “Where am I?” he asked. Like the others, he walked toward me. Unlike the others, he didn’t look at me, or the people behind me. His gaze focused on the cemetery beyond us instead. “Am I…?” he blinked, looked just like all the others had off to the side. “I can’t see. Are you sure this is it?”

  I grabbed the candle. Something wasn’t right. The look on this boy’s face wasn’t right. He looked, not sad exactly, but lost. I wanted to rush through the circle and pull him out, save him.

  But he was a demon, Theodore playing dress-up or some other demon, I couldn’t be sure which at this point, but if he was in that circle, there was no doubt he was a demon. Even knowing that, I wanted to help him. If I felt that way, how could the people standing behind me not too?

  I had to break the call before one of us did something stupid.

  “What is the best way to get rid of a demon?” a baritone voice called.

  For a relieved second, I thought Theodore was back. Then I looked up and saw three forms teetering in the shadows.

  “No!” I screamed, lunging to the side.

  But Brittany’s cousin and his two friends were too lost in their joke and drunken stupor. “You exorcise a lot!” one yelled. Joshua staggered along the edge of the circle, arms held out at his sides like he was balancing on a tightrope.

  I hit the ground with a thump. The boys were twenty feet away. Too far for me to reach them, especially sprawled out on the ground like I was.

  I could see all of them now. The other two were behind the first, hands above their hands and their bodies swaying. I thought they were chanting, but alcohol garbled their words and I was too busy to worry much about exactly what they were saying.

  The candle was still in my hand. My fingers tightened around it. I stared at the black stub for a second, my mind jumping, still stuck on getting to the boys. Another few seconds had passed by the time I realized I held the key to our salvation in my grip. That the best bet to saving us was to get back to where I’d been and sever the call. I scrambled on hands and knees and groped blindly for the athame. I began stuttering out the chant even before I found the blade.

  The three began to chortle and shove each other. My fingers wrapped around the leather-covered handle of the knife. The shoving continued. Joshua took a step back; I couldn’t see where or how close his foot was to the circle.
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br />   Had he breached it? If not, he was within a hair’s reach.

  I slashed blindly at the candle, praying I’d sever it and not my hand.

  But it was too late. Joshua’s foot had crossed the line, and a few feet away, all hell was already breaking free.

  Literally.

  Chapter 6

  The sound of wind was all I could hear at first, then laughter: a female’s, high and bell-like, a man’s, deep and disturbing. When I glanced back at the boys, they were stumbling and running away from the circle. I couldn’t blame them for that; I wanted to run too.

  But I couldn’t.

  Behind me Brittany was screaming. I forgot about the boys and concentrated on stopping the nightmare they had created. I slashed at the candle, yelled out the chant, but it wasn’t working. The wind continued to howl and the laughter grew louder, seemed to swirl around me, engulf me.

  “Lucinda!” Brittany calling me. Frantically chanting, I ignored her. My hands were slippery, in the back of my mind I realized I’d cut myself, that my blood could add to the chaos. I wiped my hands on my shirt, still chanting, praying now. My skin was cold, everything was cold.

  Hell was supposed to be hot. It was the only clear thought I could manage. My hands were shaking, my throat was hoarse, and I couldn’t see. Tears from the cold air and bits of dirt pelting my face blinded me.

  “Lucinda!” A hand grabbed me by the shoulder and jerked me backward. I slashed with my knife, even though I knew it would do no good. The blade could cut the call if sliced through the candle, but would do nothing to stop a demon, not once he was loose in our world.

  “Stop it,” someone yelled. My face stung. The someone had hit me, slapped me.

  “Get your ass in the cemetery.” It was Brittany looking like a raging warrior her red hair billowing around her in the wind. Her face was pale, but determined. I looked down and realized she held my arm. She was trying to pull me to safety—or the closest thing we had at hand, hallowed ground.

  I found my feet then. The candle and athame still in my hands, I scrambled to a stand. I followed her back to the fence and flung my body over, ignored the sharp pain as my side drug across a rusty spike. I fell to the ground and rolled to my stomach. Through the metal bars and weeds I could see the circle. The winged demon stood in the center, his hands raised, laughter rolling from his throat. Behind him there were shadows, slipping away from the circle.