“You seemed surprised yesterday,” he says. I turn back to him, my heart pounding a little more in my chest. “When you saw that waitress trip. It was the same expression you had on your face with the demon in the alley.”
I shrug. Play it off, Penelope. Don’t let him know you were surprised.
“I have a theory about you,” he says, moving toward me again.
I open the door. “What’s that?”
His foot shuffles on the ground and shakes his head. “We can’t talk about it here.”
What does he think about me? What does he think he knows? Maybe it’s my magic, my response to both times I used it. He’s right. I was surprised. Shocked. He noticed that then—what else has he noticed?
“Fine. I can’t do it until the afternoon.”
“Three o’clock?” he says, his eyes wide. The hopefulness in his expression jars me a little.
I bite my lip. We got out of class yesterday after two. Today may not be the same. “I don’t know yet. I’ll text you.”
Carter raises an eyebrow, and moves so the only thing between us is the door of my car. “Nice try, but you don’t have my number, Pen.”
“Don’t call me that,” I say again.
“Phone,” he says. I hand it to him; he quickly types, his face slightly amused, and hands my phone back to me. He turns around to leave too. His car is in the next spot—some sexy black number. Very Batmobile meets real life.
“Until later then, Felt Tip,” he calls to me without turning around.
I don’t argue this time. He’s doing it just to make me mad. Which—fine. Whatever. I take a breath, slide into the driver’s seat and slam my door shut. “Stupid boys.”
Someone pounds on the roof of my car, and I jump. “I see you’re all sunshine and fun,” Ric says as he opens the door. “Not enough caffeine?”
“I could always use some more.”
“It was your idea to go early,” Ric says, getting into the car. Yes, it was. It’s time to do my own form of demon tracking.
I shrug and before he has his seat belt on I blurt out, “Do you know any witches named Carter?”
“Carter what?”
I pause. “I don’t know.”
“Carter doesn’t ring any bells,” he says. I pout and he fastens his seat belt. Where did Carter come from? He must be in another school in the region. I’ve never seen him before. Ric slaps the dash of my car. “Ooh, is he hot? I knew a Carter in middle school and he was hot. Is he gay? That would be better—a hot Carter just for me.”
“I don’t think so,” I say.
Ric sighs. “They never are.”
Ric leaves me off at the elevator thirty minutes early. Once he disappears down the hall, I go back down to the main floor next to the library entrance.
The doors are oak and brass, and squeal when I push them open. I get to go inside! I have to focus so I don’t start dancing right there. I have a mission, and limited time.
The library is a bit like a dusty old cave, except with marble columns and deep mahogany floors and chandeliers. It’s exquisite and creepy at once—and it kind of smells like feet. There’s a fat gray cat sitting at the welcome center, but there’s no librarian.
“Hello?” I call out. All I can see are rows and rows of shelved books, longer than three football fields and still going. The cat meows at me. It has a silver tag around its neck. Hyde.
“Are you the librarian, Hyde?” I ask the cat. I have never seen a talking cat, but that doesn’t mean it couldn’t happen.
Hyde meows again and jumps off the desk. I walk past the rows of books instead of down the aisles. The end is not in sight, and I don’t want to get lost in there. Rumor is that the Triad has started making things electronic, because researchers would disappear in the stacks trying to find information.
There doesn’t seem to be anyone here. There’s so much to know about the entire history of magic and witches. Unlimited resources are in this room, and if I play my cards right, I can use them. It’s all right at my fingertips. If I can find what I need here about my demon, then maybe I can find out more about the ritual, too, and be on my way to magical normalcy.
I move down the front of the room and check over my shoulder to make sure I can still see the desk. That’s my anchor. I find a small computer desk and sit. I need to enter my WNN pass code to access the computer and when I do it beeps—high, low, high—and opens for me.
Search: ______
This is great! Google for magical history! I type in Mom’s name: Genevieve Warren Grey
Before I’m ready her face pops up on the screen. I inhale at the sight of her beautiful smile, round brown eyes, blond curls. Under her name are articles, too. Her birth, her announcement for the Enforcer finals, her partnership announcement with a picture of her and Dad smiling, her being an Enforcer, their Bonding, my birth, lists and lists of demon attacks that she and Dad thwarted and the only one they didn’t.
I shouldn’t have clicked that. Seeing her whole life on the screen makes me ache for the life we could’ve had with her. One she wasn’t allowed to finish because something she loved—being an Enforcer, saving people, using her magic for greatness—got her killed.
The demon.
Here goes nothing. If he exists, hopefully he was important enough that they put him in the database. Otherwise, I need to go searching in some books. There are a lot of books in here. Like, more than I’ve ever seen in one place. How could I ever find information there without telling the librarian what I’m looking for? There’s only one place to start.
Azsis
It takes the computer a few seconds to gather search results, but fifty-three items pop up. Fifty-three. That’s amazing. This may be easier than I thought before! At least I have things to read. I click on the first one, which is the Enforcer file for cataloged demons. It means someone has seen it before.
Demon File No. 3013791: Azsis
Known power: full range unknown
Last seen: 01/13/2004, which means they stopped looking for him or no one has seen him since he killed my parents. That’s not encouraging. Nine years is a long time to be unseen.
History: Rumored – discoverer of essence power for demons; fallen angel with Lucifer
Confirmed – excellent strength and speed
Threat leveclass="underline" 10
“Do you need help with something?” a voice says from behind me. I jump up from the computer and face a man who’s shorter than me, has a round stomach, spiked gray-blue hair, and dark slanted eyes. He smiles and there’s a huge gap between his two front teeth.
“Sorry. I—” I start. The man looks at me, waiting for an answer. I what? I was bored? I wonder if that will fly. “I’m taking my exams.”
The man chuckles and the cat circles his feet. “Are you here on assignment?” He nods toward the computer.
“Sort of,” I say. I quickly exit out of the screen.
“Name’s Poncho Alistair, librarian. Something I can help you with?”
“No,” I say. He starts to walk away and I change my mind. “I can use the resources here, right?”
Poncho raises an eyebrow. “Depends.”
“On?”
He smiles. “Do you know what you are looking for?”
“Information.”
He picks up the cat and walks back to his desk. “Your name is?”
“Penelope Grey,” I say.
His eyes find mine, nose scrunched like he’s reading a book. “Owen and Genevieve’s girl?” he asks.
“Yes sir,” I say.
Poncho nods. “Good people. It’s a shame what happened to them.”
His comment takes me by surprise. It shouldn’t. Mom and Dad were well-known before their death, but when others talk about them I feel like I’m missing out. “You knew them?”