A chuckle pours from its throat, but it’s not its voice; it’s something unworldly, and darker. Almost robotic. Then, it falls to the floor. Its eyes are no longer wide and pale, but deep, dark green, so dark they are almost black. It looks up at us quietly.
“I believe you have found all you have sought from me. Leave.”
Carter looks like he wants to say something else, but some of the other demons circle around us and pull Vassago up. The only option we have is to leave, or face an epic brawl. Carter takes a step forward. A demon nearby hisses at us, all of their eyes on me like I’m food. I grab Carter’s arm.
“Let’s go,” I say.
Carter slips his hand into mine before guiding me out a door. I look back as the door is closing and see Vassago’s eyes on me before the wood separates us. I can’t help but feel like it knows something more.
Two witches walk into a demon bar, and somehow they both come out alive.
Chapter Fourteen
I’m too awake to go home. And considering I have a big ceremony tomorrow, it’s probably where I should go, but I’m not ready. The power from our magic is still flowing through me, and I’ve never felt so alive. When I’m trying to wake up in the morning I know I will regret it, but the quiet city at night is nice to walk through with Carter, even if he hasn’t said much. Whatever he’s looking for, whatever he’s lost, it’s weighing on him.
“You okay?” I ask.
He nods. “You?”
I nod back. Glad we had that conversation. I wonder what he’s thinking? Can I ask? “So the thing you’re looking for…?”
He’s quiet again, lost in thought. I don’t expect him to answer, but then he does.
“My mom,” he says. “She left when I was a baby.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
“My dad has no idea I’m looking for her. I couldn’t do that to him, you know?”
I do know. I’m on my own quest after all, whatever that means.
“Why demons?”
Carter shrugs. “It didn’t start that way. I always thought demons killed her, but then I learned that they took her instead. I followed some trails and someone mentioned Vassago a month ago. I’ve just missed him in every search, but I kept trying. Then I found him and all I got was a riddle.”
“Sorry,” I say. And I am. My parents are dead, that’s for sure, there’s no denying it. But not knowing? That would suck.
“What he said about you not having an essence—how’s that possible?”
I start to think of a response, but I can’t come up with a lie. I don’t want to lie to him. I’m not supposed to tell anyone. I can hear Gran’s warning in my head. But I want him to trust me the same way I trust him. Which I realize I do. A lot. It’s strange, but he’s proven himself to me.
“Follow me,” I say.
“What is it?”
I don’t answer as I lead Carter a few more blocks. We stop in front of the familiar fading blue house with the oak tree. “This is my house.”
“I thought you lived on the other side of town?” he asks.
“I do. We, Connie and I, lived here with our parents before they died,” I say.
“I didn’t know,” he says. “I’m sorry, Penelope.”
All the memories flood over me. I want to run, but even more, I want to go inside. I never want to go inside. Tonight, I do. I want to tell Carter that nothing really makes sense, but it’s not his mess. My life is not his responsibility. But we’re connected somehow, and I can at least give him this answer.
“I want to tell you what Vassago meant,” I say.
My feet pull me toward the house. I can’t make them stop. Carter’s right behind me, following me inside. I’ve never really told anyone about what happened that night. Not even Connie knows the whole story; I wanted to spare her all the details.
My lips are dry. My hands are shaking and it makes opening the door difficult. The keys jangle together in my hands.
“I usually have to work a lot harder before a girl lets me into her room,” he jokes. I let out a nervous laugh. He looks at me, eyes all calming, concerned, and puts his hand on mine.
“I’ve got it,” he says. Carter pauses in the doorway, his shoulders tense.
I move so he can open the door. The memories pour into me as it opens. The house, the music, the sound of Mom laughing. Even the darkness of our empty home can’t stop them from chasing after me. I bolt up the stairs to the familiar room on the left, Carter on my heels.
I tell myself it doesn’t matter, this place and what happened, but it does. Everything matters. My bed still sits in the corner. Gran couldn’t sell the house because no one was ready to part with it. I guess one day we’ll have to clean out the dusty furniture, sell it. Right now, it’s a reminder of what we lost, as if we don’t feel it enough every second of the day. I take a seat on my old bed, curl my knees up to my chest and lean against the wall. It’s the only way I fit on this bed now. The little girl who used to sleep here is long gone.
Carter stretches so his hands hang off the top of my doorframe, but doesn’t cross the threshold. The only sound around us is the drumming of his fingers on the wall. I’ve never had a boy lingering in my doorway before. Not in this room or in the other.
I look around the room, and it’s so much smaller now. Instinctively, I search for the familiar.
“When I was a kid, my father used to make the stars sparkle in my room. He would bring in the lights from outside and they would dance on these walls.” I close my eyes while I talk, seeing it all replay in my head. I haven’t thought of this forever, but being here reminds me. “It was my own personal night-light straight from the sky outside. I can still see it. The way they would dance and spin and he would kneel down by my bed and laugh with me.”
When I open my eyes, I practically feel Carter’s stare. “Sorry.” I didn’t come here to remember. Remembering is never hard to do. I shouldn’t go to that place where things were happy and normal and not something that can ever be again.
Carter shakes his head from the other side of the room. “You can tell me anything you want.”
“Vassago was right. I don’t have—” I start and then pause. I have to start at the beginning because the rest of the story is too hard. “See that closet right there?” I point to his left, and he follows my finger and nods.
“That’s where they found me the night my parents died.”
“You were here?”
I can’t look at his face, but I hear the surprise in his voice. I stare off into the space. “Dad was coming home from a CEASE meeting. Connie was at Gran’s because Mom usually had patrol on Thursdays, but I was home sick. She stayed with me. We were up here and she was wiping my face with a cloth. We didn’t even hear it come in.”
“Hear what come in?” he asks.
“The demon. It looked like Dad, but it had these orange eyes.”.
I close my eyes. I haven’t thought about all this for years. Gran took me back and forth to therapy sessions for two years after they died. The first thing I said in those sessions, half a year in, was that I didn’t want to cry like they were all crying. That doctor told me that I had live because that was what my parents wanted me to do.
Then when I was old enough, I found out about being an Enforcer, heard that story at the party about the ritual, and never looked back. Looking back meant being weak and that wasn’t something else I could do. But now, it doesn’t feel weak. It feels strong because it means I’m letting someone else in, and that’s really scary too.
“An Enforcer found Dad in the front yard after, in the middle of the night, with demon dust trickling out of his ear. That’s how they figured out something happened inside. The demon must’ve been waiting for him to come home. It killed him and took his body.” Carter inhales from the doorway. I keep talking. “At least, it’s never made sense unless Dad was already dead. There’s no way my father would’ve let a demon have control of him like that if he wasn’t dead first.”