Demon High (5 page)

“Yeah, well so are your jokes, old, broken and lame. But go ahead, hit me with another one, I could use a good nap,” she responded.

As Theodore’s eyes narrowed, they flickered yellow. Something flickered inside me too.

“I am the most famous vaudeville comedian to tread the boards.”

“Uh, yeah, no.” Brittany tapped me again. “This is the best you could do? To get the big bucks we need something I don’t know scary…all dark and sexy or maybe—.”

“Like this?” Theodore’s voice boomed at us.

My gaze snapped back to the circle; by Brittany’s intake of breath I guessed hers did too.

Theodore had grown fourteen inches. He towered over us. His skin had darkened too, to somewhere between cocoa and cappuccino. His chest was bare and every muscle bulged. On his back were wings. Wings that started at the ground and reached to four inches above his head.

His face was angelic, high cheekbones, full lips and eyes so blue they were almost clear.

I didn’t know who this demon was, but it sure as hell wasn’t the weak vaudeville-star-turned-demon who I’d called.

“Who are you?” I asked. My voice came out as a croak, but with the panic welling inside my chest, I was impressed words came out all.

“Who did you call?” asked the creature. He tilted his head to the side and raised one brow.

You don’t answer a demon’s questions. It gives them control, something else my mother had repeated frequently enough it had apparently settled permanently into my brain. “You know who I called,” I replied.

“Do I?” He smiled.

I could feel my lips moving with his, smiling along with him.

He laughed and I had to fight to keep the chuckle forming inside my chest from bubbling out. Brittany was less successful, or she wasn’t even trying. Her peal of laughter was young and excited, filled with a joy I couldn’t at that moment staring at that demon grasp.

“God,” she murmured. “This we can sell.”

And then Theodore was back. “You think? What kind of crowd you planning to pull in? What venue? Surely not here.” He scuffed at the ground and sent a pebble skidding into the barrier, where it stopped as if blocked by a wall.

“Where did—.”

I cut Brittany off. “Theodore, was that you?” Dear God, let him say yes.

He looked up, his eyes mouse brown, his body fully clothed and not showing a single muscle. “A little trick I picked up back home. You like?”

“We like,” Brittany murmured. “What else can you do?” she asked. “How about celebrities?”

I shot her a look over my shoulder. I hadn’t told her not to ask questions, but I’d stupidly assumed this would be my game to lead.

When I glanced back at Theodore he was gone. In his place stood a man with obviously curly hair that had been slicked flat on top and parted in the middle. He was wearing a tux similar to the one Theodore had worn, but he had an added accessory—shackles.

I frowned. Something about him looked familiar, but I couldn’t place him.

“Who is it?” Brittany asked.

The man in the circle held out his hands and shook his head. “Only the biggest celebrity of all. Here, what about this?”

The man’s face erupted into flames.

Brittany shrieked. I spun and grabbed her by the wrist. “Remember what I said.” My hand was shaking as badly as she was, but I knew I couldn’t lose it, knew neither of us could.

Her eyes moved in her face, back to the man burning like a wax figure behind me. She took a breath through open lips then nodded.

“Too much?” The man spoke through the flames.

I forced myself to look at him, to pretend the blue blaze engulfing his head was one-hundred-percent normal. “Way, and I think you may be a bit out of touch. When did you die, Theodore?” I knew the answer, but I needed to keep asking him questions. Each one he answered reinforced my position of control.

“1924.”

The right year. I still had control, or he was at least pretending I did.

The flames flickered for a second then disappeared, and Theodore was back in front of us, unscarred and shackle free.

I let out a breath.

“What year is it?” he asked.

“Two thous—,” Brittany began.

I cleared my throat. “That doesn’t matter. The question is, can you imitate anyone?”

He tilted his head as if considering. “What’s in it for me?”

Another question.

I faced Brittany. It was a bold move, turning my back on a demon, but I needed to look confident. Plus, Theodore’s explosion into fire had shaken me; I needed a moment to remind myself that I was in control.

“Demons pulled into a circle have to do as the person calling them ask,” I said to Brittany, but to myself too.

“Ha,” Theodore scoffed behind me. “What’s the punch line?”

“If the demon refuses, the person who called them can refuse to release them,” I continued. Mother and the book had both said this.

“You planning on living in this cow pasture?” Theodore asked from behind me.

“There are other tricks too…” Calm or as calm as I could be, I turned back to the demon. “I’m hoping it won’t be necessary to use them. I’m thinking you have as much to gain from what we have planned as we do.”

He fluttered his hand. A leather wing chair appeared behind him. He sat, one ankle propped on the opposite knee. “And what do two uneducated girls have to offer the greatest vaudevillian of all time?”

I smiled. We were in full game mode now. I felt a surge of anticipation. I shoved my hands in my pockets and walked a few steps to the right, pretended I hadn’t heard his question. This I suddenly realized is what my mother had felt, the high that kept bringing her back to the circle.

I focused on my demon. “What did you sell your soul for, Theodore? Can you imagine what would it feel like to play before an audience again? To hear them laugh? Cry? To be their one and only focus?”

He leaned his head against the overstuffed chair’s back. “That’s how I got into this to start with.”

“But I’m no demon, and I’m not asking for an eternal commitment. This gig will be night to night.”

“Night to night?” He studied the back of his hand for a second.

Calling a demon was always night to night, time to time. Once you let them go, you had no control over getting them to come back. They could, in theory, figure out a way to avoid your next call, but I was betting Theodore wouldn’t—that he wouldn’t want to. Once he was the center of attention again, he’d eat it up.

Just like I was eating up the thrill of our negotiations and the sense of power that came with them.

“Can I be myself?” he asked.

“No,” Brittany muttered before I could stop her. Luckily, her answer was short and negative. Not the type to offer Theodore much power in return.

Still, I watched him with extra care as I worded my next sentence. “Today’s audience doesn’t appreciate the same humor audiences did in your day. You want to pull in the big crowds, don’t you?”

He didn’t hesitate this time. “Of course.”

I couldn’t hide my smile, but there was no reason to, I’d won.

We spent another hour discussing details, how to bring Theodore up-to-date on today’s pop culture, when his preferred times to be called were, etc. I planned on being in control, but I also had no reason to antagonize him. If he wanted Mondays off, who was I to question it?

“Only hecklers show on Mondays,” he explained. His gaze darted to Brittany.

I shrugged. The reason really didn’t matter.

Finally, I picked up the athame. “We’ll be back in two nights, and we’ll bring your research materials. How long will it take you to review them?”

He smiled, a cold knowing smile that for a few seconds had me doubting my choice, but then it was gone and he was back to the somewhat annoying, but harmless vaudeville star. “Your time? Twenty seconds, and that’s with a thirty minute nap.” He laughed.

Again, I missed his joke, but it wasn’t important. What was important was that he could apparently absorb anything we threw at him—as soon as we threw it.

“How about DVDs. You have a way to watch them?” This from Brittany who had stayed behind the fence the entire time.

He raised a brow. “Actually, if you’ve read the material, or seen the performer, that’s enough. I can read your thoughts, if you’re willing. Just step into the circle.”

A chill passed over my skin, reminding me Theodore was still a demon and still dangerous. I swallowed. “We can bring a player too.” Without waiting for him to reply, I muttered the dousing words and cut the tip of the burning candle off with the athame. An inch of candle toppled to the ground. Hot wax spilled over my hand. It hurt like hell, but I didn’t flinch, didn’t even look up until I’d shoved the blade into the ground and muttered the last few call-breaking words.

When I did look up, Theodore was gone.

I’d successfully completed my first demon call, and I’d never felt more alive.

o0o

By the time Brittany dropped me off, it was almost two in the morning. I let myself in the front door with my key. The house was quiet. Too pumped up to sleep, I went to the kitchen and stared into the refrigerator for a few minutes. Nothing but two hard boiled eggs stared back at me. Finally, I scrounged around and came up with a half-eaten Hershey bar and a spoonful of Nana’s peanut butter. Chomping both down, I headed for the stairs.

I was careful, skipping the third and fourth steps which had squeaked as long as I could remember, but I realized now were showing signs of real wear. There was a crack in one and a rusty nail had worked its way out of the other.

I stomped on the offending bit of metal, trying to shove it back into place with the sole of my tennis shoe.

“Lucinda, is that you?” Nana.

I could hear her slippers shuffling over the wood floors. I scurried to the top of the stairs before her door creaked open.

I was hustling toward the bathroom, intent on trying to convince her I hadn’t been out, just had an early morning snack and potty call, when I heard her door slam back against the wall.

All thoughts of trying to cover my late night excursion fled. I raced to her room. She was lying on the floor, her upper body angled against the door, her favorite burgundy housecoat bunched around her waist. I dropped to my knees.

“What happened?” I asked.

“Nothing.” She put her hand on the floor and tried to push herself up. The bones of her hand were too obvious, her skin almost white against her bedroom’s dark green carpeting. I grabbed her by the shoulder and stared into her eyes. She shook me off, but it was a weak effort and I could tell she’d worked for the energy to do that.

“I told you it’s nothing. Just stood up too quick, is all. Got light-headed. Question is, where have you been?” She narrowed her steel-blue eyes and tried to look intimidating, but all I could see was her lying there, in her worn bathrobe, frailer than I’d ever seen her. Her skin even looked thinner. As if I could see every blue vein that lay underneath.

“Out,” I murmured, still staring at her. “Have you been taking your medications?”

She slapped my hand then shoved herself to a stand. I could see it took every bit of will she possessed to accomplish the feat. “Don’t be trying to change the subject. You know better than to be out late on a school night. You aren’t meeting some boy, are you?”

The question was laughable, but I just answered, “No.”

She nodded. “Well, that’s good, I guess. You doing anything I need to worry about?”

Still riding high from the thrill of calling Theodore, I had no problem keeping my gaze steady. “No, no reason for you to worry about anything I’m doing.”

She gave another short nod and turned back toward her bed. Her steps were short and unsteady.

“Nana?” I started.

She kept shuffling. “Get to bed, Lucinda, and brush your teeth. You reek of peanut butter.”

I wiped my hands on my jeans and then pulled her door closed. But I waited for a second before leaving, listened to make sure she didn’t fall again. Finally I headed to the bathroom.

Knowing she’d be listening for the water, I brushed my teeth. It also gave me an excuse to jerk open the mirror that hid the medicine chest where I kept my toothpaste and she kept her pills. The bottles were there, lined up like always. But two of them were empty.

I took them out and peered at the labels. One should have been filled a week ago. My grandmother wasn’t just selling her things; she was sacrificing her health. I felt sick, gut sick.

I made note of the medication’s name and then went to my room to research.

It took longer to fire up my ancient computer than it did to find the drug on the Internet. It was for high blood pressure. There were pages of warnings about missing doses. How it could make you dizzy
and
lead to kidney disease or stroke.

This wasn’t a medicine Nana could do without, not that I thought the thyroid med was, either.