Demonosity (7 page)

“Thank you. You are very kind, Cassidy.” As he spoke, his dark eyes caught hers, and Cassidy felt her face start to heat up. But before she could say anything else Celeste Gilbert and a group of her friends walked past, and when they saw Travis, they immediately beelined toward him.

“Travis, there you are,” another senior, Rachel Brett, squealed as she possessively hooked her arm under his. “Mrs. Jenkins from the office wants to see you. She had a question about your transfer papers, and she wants to get it sorted out today.”

“And since we’re not doing anything else,” Celeste added, once again ignoring Cassidy, “we told her that we would escort you there.”

“Oh.” Travis politely nodded his head. “Sure, I guess.”

“Good, come on then.” Rachel began to drag him off. As he went Travis rolled his eyes and mouthed good-bye in a pained way, clutching at the book she’d given him as if it was a life raft. Of course, considering that Travis had managed to get Scott Wilson to apologize, Cassidy was pretty sure that he could have avoided being dragged off by Celeste and Rachel if he’d really wanted to. But still, she couldn’t help smiling at the thought that he was holding her book. Then she heard Rachel’s voice ringing out in the distance.

“By the way, Travis, you still haven’t told me what you’re wearing to Cade Taylor’s Halloween party tonight.”

Before Cassidy could hear his answer, Nash appeared. “There you are. I’ve been waiting outside for ages,” he started to say, before suddenly noticing something. He narrowed his eyes. “You look like you’ve just won the lottery. Why are you smiling?”

C
assidy stared into the mirror. An Audrey Hepburn zombie stared back at her. She readjusted her tiara and tried to decide if she’d overdone the fake blood, which was covering her chin. Would anyone even think that she
was
a zombie? Perhaps she just looked like Courtney Love on a bad makeup day, which definitely wasn’t the look she was going for. Especially since Travis was going to be there.

Travis was going to be there!

Just thinking his name caused a stab of indecision to go racing through her, and she hurried over to her bed and studied the other costumes that were lying there. She picked up the Lara Croft one. She’d almost worn that last year before Nash convinced her they should go as Bonnie and Clyde. But at least no one would mistake her for a crazy person if she was wearing it. Then she turned to the giant Angry Bird outfit, which she’d spent far too much money on, but decided red wasn’t her color. She chewed at her fake-blood-stained lip, but before she could make up her mind, she heard Nash’s car pull up, so she grabbed the Lara Croft costume and stuffed it into her oversize handbag. At least her choice was now between just two.

As she raced down the hallway, she caught sight of her dad sitting up in his bed, his knee elevated, just as the doctor had ordered. She poked her head in.

“Hey, I just thought I would say good-bye,” she said, walking over to his bedside.

“Wow, you look great. Though I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to watch
Breakfast at Tiffany’s
again without thinking of blood.” Her dad smiled as he put his book aside. “I’m pleased that you’re going out tonight. What made you change your mind?”

“Nothing,” she said a little bit too quickly, trying not to think about her run-in with Travis this afternoon.

“Is that code for
boy
?” her dad asked with interest, and Cassidy let out an embarrassed groan.

“Yes, but you know what? I think I’m just going to cancel, because—”

“Because nothing,” he cut her off. “Cass, we’ve been through this. I’m feeling much better, so I want you to go to this party, eat lots of brains, and then come home and tell me all about it.”

“Thanks, Dad.” Cassidy hugged him, careful not to let her zombie makeup smear on his shirt, and then headed out to where Nash was waiting. He was wearing tightly fitted pantaloons and a velvet jacket with ruffles of lace hanging down over his wrists, while his normally dark hair was covered with a stark white judge-style wig, à la the Scarlet Pimpernel.

He also seemed to be having a boring conversation about particle physics with her mom, which caused Cassidy to roll her eyes before she grabbed his hand and dragged him away with a quick good-bye.

They hurried down the path, only just avoiding a group of trick-or-treaters who were swinging their pumpkin-shaped candy bags and complaining about being given oranges by one of the other houses.

“After you, Ms. Hepburn,” Nash deadpanned, holding open the car door. “And can I just say that you look very fetching for a living-dead person.”

“Thank you, and you look very dashing as well.” She grinned back at him and then suddenly shot him a hopeful look. “So does this mean that you’ve forgiven me?”

Nash pushed back one of his stiff white curls and reluctantly nodded. “Yes. Apart from the fact that you destroyed a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to learn more about a quantifiable link between science and spirit, which up until this point in time has only been conjecture, I’ve made my peace with your decision.”

“Well, that means a lot to me—even if I did only understand one word in three of what you just said. Now let’s get going before I freeze to death.” She got in and waited for Nash to start the car and pull away from the curb.

Cade Taylor lived only about ten blocks away, but the temperature had dropped, plus neither of them wanted to walk past all the hyped-up kids who were crawling all over the neighborhood. A few moments later they were there, and Cassidy looked up at the house. It backed onto the woods, but the spooky factor was lost, given all the lights that lined the brickwork.

The party was in full swing when they walked in, and they were accosted by drunken seniors all dressed up and dancing to loud music. Thankfully, Cassidy had been to enough parties with Nash to know that he had an uncanny ability to find where the real party was happening, and so she obediently trailed after him until they reached a second living room. Sure enough, everyone in there was less drunk and started their sentences with words that didn’t include “Oh, my God” and “Get stuffed, douche bag.” They were even playing Kings of Leon, as opposed to the trance music that had first greeted them.

“See.” Nash sank down into a nearby couch and stretched his long legs out in front of him, causing a nearby Cleopatra to let out a dreamy sigh. “I told you it wouldn’t suck.”

“Well, not yet, anyway,” Cassidy conceded as she realized that pretty much everyone was dressed up as zombies. There were Cheerios cheerleading zombies, panda zombies, Snow White zombies, and she was pretty sure that, over in the corner, she could even see a zombie nun. Too late, she realized she should’ve worn the Lara Croft costume after all.

She turned to Nash, but before she could speak, a senior dressed as a Super Mario zombie wandered over and asked Nash his thoughts on the last biotech symposium; Cassidy contented herself with scanning the room for Travis.

There was no sign of him, but unfortunately, she did manage to see Reuben, who was wearing a Renfield-style straitjacket. He was chatting up some girl, popping candy flies into his mouth as he swayed drunkenly. Oh, and she was pretty sure she heard him use the Dracula’s-thrall-is-nothing-compared-to-the-thrall-you-have-over-me line.

“Is that guy eating flies?” a soft voice asked in her ear, and she turned to see that Travis, dressed as James Dean, had joined her on the couch. His dark hair was slicked back, and his plain white T-shirt clung to his chest and seemed to make his dazzling smile more dazzling than ever.

“I don’t think they’re real,” Cassidy assured him, while trying to ignore the fact his leg was so close to hers, it was almost touching. “Anyway, nice costume, James.”

“Pardon?” He shot her a blank look.

“James Dean,” Cassidy explained. “Your costume.”

“Oh.” Travis shot her a rueful smile that transformed his face and made him look like a sunbeam. “Should I confess that I’ve never heard of him? I just went to the store, and the woman thought this would suit me.”

“She was right,” Cassidy couldn’t help replying as she fiddled with her tiara to try to hide her nerves.

“Thank you. I like your costume, too, though where is the tattoo you had on your arm the other day? I thought that was really cool.”

“Oh.” She unconsciously dropped her arm back down to her side, surprised that he had even noticed it, let alone remembered it. Not that she was going to tell him why it was gone, since appearing like a weirdo wasn’t in her how-to-talk-to-cute-boys handbook. “It was only a temporary one. I got it when my dad was going into the hospital, but now that he’s better, I took it off.”

“I hope it was nothing serious?”

“As he keeps telling me on a regular basis, it was just a small operation and he’s feeling much better,” Cassidy assured him, touched by his concern. “But thanks for asking.”

“I’m pleased to hear that. Though it’s a pity about the tattoo. I liked it,” he said before giving her a boyish grin. “So I was wondering if you could tell me what the situation is with the school play. I was thinking of auditioning but didn’t want to step into a land mine.”

“Sorry, I’m not much of a drama person,” Cassidy admitted—though for the first time since her mom had mentioned it, she was genuinely sorry.

“Really?” Travis sounded surprised as he arched an eyebrow. “That’s too bad, because I think you would be pretty amazing up on the stage.”

“If, by amazing, you mean shaking violently and forgetting my own name, then yes, you might be right,” she quipped before she could stop herself, but instead of looking at her as if she was stupid, he gave her a reassuring smile.

“Stage fright can happen to the best of us,” he said, his gorgeous eyes catching hers. Before she could reply, his cell phone rang. For a moment he just stared at the pocket of his leather jacket, seemingly unsure whether to answer it or not. Cassidy nodded to let him know that she didn’t mind, while privately impressed that he’d even considered it might be rude.

She watched him answer it in a low voice. He didn’t say much, but as the conversation continued his face darkened until he finally shoved the phone back in his pocket and rubbed his full lower lip.

“Is there a problem?”

“Not exactly, but there is something I have to take care of.” He let out a frustrated sigh before shooting her a curious look. “Seriously, is it just my family, or does every family have one person in it who drives you crazy?”

“Oh, you definitely don’t have the franchise on crazy family members,” Cassidy assured him as she thought of her mom. Who wasn’t so much crazy as overpowering, detached, and selfish—but hey; tomato, tamahto.

Travis looked at her with interest. “Sounds like we’ll have to compare notes one day.”

“I-I’d like that,” Cassidy said, surprised at just how disappointed she was that he was leaving so soon.

“Anyway, Cassidy, I’d better go and sort this thing out, but hey, it was nice to see you, and thanks again for the book.”

“What book?” Nash suddenly turned to her, his conversation with the Super Mario zombie finished. Cassidy waited until Travis had finally disappeared from sight altogether before turning to Nash and letting out her own dreamy sigh.

“Harper Lee. I lent him my copy. Can you believe he thought he might find a copy in the library?”

“Good-looking and innocent?” Nash reflected. “He’s going to get eaten alive at this school.”

“I don’t know.” Cassidy shook her head as she told him about what happened with Scott in the hallway earlier. “He obviously has some kind of mojo that he uses.”

“So I’m discovering.” Nash raised his eyebrows, causing her to flush. At the same time Reuben’s fake laugh floated over, and they could both hear him tell the very boring story of how he once got kicked out of a concert for wearing the wrong footwear.

“Could your ex be any more of a jerk?” Nash rolled his eyes as he pulled her to her feet and led her out through sliding glass doors to the large patio. There were two large coal patio heaters to ward off the chilly weather, and pumpkin-shaped lights were dotted across the lawn below, stopped only by the shadowy darkness of the surrounding woods. As far as spook factor went, it was definitely an A-plus.

“I didn’t think it was possible, but he does seem to be doing his best to prove us wrong.” Cassidy shivered, since thanks to the groups of people huddled around the braziers, not much of the warmth was reaching her. Nash immediately slipped off his Scarlet Pimpernel jacket and draped it over her shoulders.

“Here you go. You already look ghoulish enough with the zombie face paint, I don’t think you need to turn blue.”

“Thanks.” Cassidy slipped her arms through the sleeves. It was miles too big for her, but it smelled of Nash, and it was warm. She was just about to ask him what his thoughts were on helping her with the book report due Monday when she was hit with an overwhelming smell of perfume and Baileys Irish Cream. She looked over to see Celeste Gilbert walking toward them, dressed as a slightly drunk Marilyn Monroe.

“Nash,” the senior squealed in delight as she grabbed at his arm to stop herself from wobbling on her high heels. As usual, she completely ignored Cassidy. “I was hoping you’d be here.”

“Really? Because I was hoping you were going to be at Abbott Thornton’s party.” Nash neatly removed Celeste’s hand from his arm. “In fact, I’m certain that’s where you told me you were going.”

“I could say the same about you,” Celeste scolded with a mock pout. “Didn’t you say you’d be there?”

“I did? My mistake,” Nash said in an innocent voice, which Cassidy knew all too well. “Anyway, it was nice to see you, but Cassidy and I were just leaving.”

“Oh, I am as well.” Celeste clapped her hands like it was some amazing coincidence. “Perhaps you could give me a lift and we could discuss the play? Remember that auditions are Monday.”

“Actually”—Cassidy coughed as she caught sight of Nash’s pained expression and decided to take pity on him—“Nash isn’t going home. He’s off to pick up some dead rats. He feeds them to his pet snake, Hamish. And while it’s normally great to have someone in the backseat who can deal with the smell and hold the dead rats, there won’t be much room because Hamish will be traveling with us. What are your thoughts on pet snakes and dead rats, Celeste?”

Cassidy blinked and turned to Nash. “Did anyone ever tell you that your friend is weird? I’ve got no idea what she’s talking about. Why would you have a pet snake or a—”

But whatever Celeste was going to say next was cut off by a loud crashing noise coming from the edge of the woods. They all turned to see an enormous creature smashing through the tree line and tearing across the dew-laden lawn toward the patio, its large silhouette illuminated by the moon, which had pushed through the clouds.

As it got closer to the patio, Cassidy could see it was at least six feet tall. Its red, scarred face was twisted into a distorted mask of fury, complete with sharp yellow teeth and long horns that ran back behind its skull, while its hulking body was thick with roped muscles. But the things that clearly stood out were the vile stench of blood and decay that hit her nose and the pair of familiar, amber-colored swirling eyes, so bright that they cut through the air like laser beams.

Cassidy felt ill.

“Jeez, would you look at how drunk that demon dude is?” Celeste stopped her Marilyn pouting and wrinkled her nose at the trail of carnage the creature was leaving behind it. “I mean, it’s a great costume, but you can’t go around knocking stuff over like that. Or waving a sword in the air. Whoever he is, I think Cade should ask him to leave, because—”

But Cassidy hardly heard as she stared in fascinated horror as the creature paused for a moment, completely indifferent to everyone around it.