Demonica (5 page)

“This doesn’t make any sense! How does no one know about this? Eight students at my high school are dead? What about their parents? There’s no way the police can keep something like
that
a secret.”

“Well, that’s another thing,” said Dante. “I don’t think the police are in charge of this investigation. The guy the Sherriff was talking to…he looked like some sketchy government type. Men in Black, maybe? He seemed kinda Tommy Lee Jonesish.”

I think this was supposed to be a joke. I didn’t laugh.

“And honestly,” said Dante, “even though the Sherriff
knew
about the deaths, it seemed like he was being kept in the loop on a need-to-know basis. Which is a nice way of saying he didn’t seem to have a damn clue.”

“You think the government is covering this up? Like a conspiracy?”

Dante shrugged. “Makes more sense than the police, doesn’t it?”

This was all too much for me to handle. If I hadn’t already experienced a life-threatening event only hours prior, I would probably be having an anxiety attack right now. Paper bag and everything. Instead, my brain felt numb. This flood of information was spilling over the edges of my sanity.

“But why teenagers? Why my high school?”

“Demons love tormenting teenagers,” said Dante like this was high school 101. “Seriously, Monica. Even Hollywood knows that. Adults just aren’t as fun.”

Ah, it was all so clear now. Dante was annoying simply by nature.

“And to answer your other question: why do
you
have to find the Demons?” said Dante. “That’s because you’re the one. I already told you that.”

“What does that even
mean
?”

Dante’s usual amused smile split across his perfect face. I’m not sure what I hated more: that he thought this was all so funny, or that he looked so sexy when he made a joke out of everything.

“Monica, there you are.”

The voice sent me into instant atrophy. It was my dad.

I shuffled around like a wobbling wind-up toy. Sure enough, my mom and dad were stepping outside. The automatic door slinked shut behind them

“What are you doing?” Mom asked. She seemed visibly concerned.

“Oh.” I flushed a nice shade of red to match my hair. I gestured a hand to my Demon stalker. “Uh…yeah. This is Dan—”

“They can’t see or hear me,” said Dante.

“—n-n-nnnn…” I stammered. My hand was still extended, apparently for no reason. I dropped it at my side.

“What?” said Dad. He blinked a couple times as if his sleepiness was interfering with his ability to interpret human speech.

“Dawn?” said Mom. Eyes narrowed down on me. Her hearing was considerably sharper.

Great. I was giving this woman plenty reason to enroll me in serious therapy.

“D-d-dance,” I stammered and in the worst British accent to ever ‘Pip pip cheerio!’ You know. Since “dance” was supposed to sound like “
dawnce
.” Aw, fuck. “A dance. I mean…like a musical. It’s a dancing musical.”

Dante applauded behind me. “Bravo, Monica. Good recovery.” And, of course, he imitated my god-awful attempt at being British.

“I’ll say,” said Dad. “You were really getting into it. We could hear you all the way through the glass doors.”

“That’s my girl,” said Dante. He winked at me. His participation in the conversation was unfathomably distracting.

“Oh,” said Mom. Her tone was lathered in skepticism. “I didn’t know you were taking theater.”

“Um…it’s for next year actually,” I said. “I…uh…wanted to get the lead role in…”

“Sweeney Todd?” Dante suggested.

“Sweeney Todd,” I repeated. And then I cringed. Dante was now resisting the urge to laugh. And that’s when I came to the conclusion that Dante really was an
evil
Demon.

“The demon barber?” said Dad.

I forced a smile. “Yep.”

“Well that’s great, honey,” said Mom. She pulled her jacket tighter. “You’ll have to tell me all about it on the drive home.”

As we walked silently to the parking garage, Dante disappeared somewhere along the way. The great chasm of wordlessness was haunting.

7

Demon Slayer

I woke up to the obnoxious blare of my alarm. I groaned like some dead thing that wasn’t quite dead anymore. I fumbled for the snooze button. 7 a.m., you bastardly time, you. Why do you even exist? Hell, why did I even set my alarm to begin with? I wasn’t going to school today, right?

And then…The Remembrance. It took a big, fat shit on my head.

Oh yeah. I was going Demon-watching with my new Demon-watching partner who also happened to be a Demon. A bit unethical, but hey, what the hell.

I silenced my alarm and rolled over in bed. I knew full well that I would probably fall back asleep in fifteen seconds. But you know what? Good riddance.

“Good morning, Sunshine.”

Dante was lying above my bed covers, his blue eyes only inches away from my face.

I was too surprised to scream. Instead, I jumped off my bed, tripped on my blanket, and hit the floor like a rock. And then I spoke and it almost resembled human speech.“AhAHahAHahAHah WHATAREYOUDOINGINMYROOM?”

Just like that. One fucking word. Or scream, or moan, or battle cry, or whatever the hell you wanted to call it. I don’t think there was even a word for it. I think just I invented this daring new form of communication.

Dante rolled to my side of the bed, hands tucked behind his head. “I’m the alarm clock with no snooze button,” he said. “Cock-a-doodle-doo.”

“I hate you. Die, please.”

“Wow. Harsh.”

“Do you know what a stalker is?”

“Hey, nobody gives that sparkly Edgar guy crap about watching girls all night in their sleep. They all think it’s romantic.”

“Yeah, and he’s also a fictional character. And his name’s not Edgar.”

“Blah, blah, blah, I’m an angsty little teenager, blah-dee-dah-dee-dah. Get ready for school. I’m ready when you are.”

It didn’t realize it until now. He wasn’t wearing his black suit and tie. Instead, he was sporting a v-neck shirt, faded boot-cut jeans, and leather flip-flops. What was the point? Nobody could see him except me.

Dante decided to take a nap on my bed while I got ready. At least he pretended to. I somehow had my doubts that Demons actually slept.

I took my clothes with me to the bathroom.

After showering and changing, I did not even bother going back into my room. Instead, I went straight downstairs to the kitchen. The moment I rounded the corner, I cringed. My mom was busy making coffee. My dad had his face tucked behind a newspaper.

Dante sat between them, glancing at the opposite page of the paper.

“Well, looks like the Dow Jones is up,” said Dante. He plucked a half-strip of bacon from my dad’s plate and popped the whole thing in his mouth. His eyes bugged out. “Oh. My. God.” he said though a full mouth. “This bacon is to die for. Misses Binsfeld, you are an artist.”

My mom glanced up as she noticed me. Her face creased with concern. “You’re not planning on going to school today, are you?”

My dad lowered his paper, mirroring her disapproval. “Monica…”

“I have stuff that I really need to do today,” I said—perhaps a little too hastily. “Believe me, I wouldn’t be going unless I felt one hundred percent fine.”

What a lie.

Surprisingly, my parents didn’t argue. Although my dad did cast a curious second glance at his plate, wondering where his bacon went. Because both my brother’s Jeep and my Camry were still parked rather inconveniently at the Saint Salazar Cemetery, I was forced to hitch a ride to school with my mom. It was a quiet drive, even with Dante feeling the need to tag along in the back seat.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” said Mom.

Though her focus was on the road ahead, she cast a sideways glance at me. This was more than just a courtesy question. Her face was painted in worry.

“Uh…yeah,” I said. “I’m great.”

Double lie.

My mom didn’t respond right away. Her expression was solemn and even contemplative as she drove.

“When I was your age, I got into a lot of stuff that I shouldn’t have,” she said. “I didn’t think that I could talk to my mom about it. And…I wish I did.”

She paused, and in that brief moment of silence, I panicked. You know that moment when your mom suddenly seems to have the inexplicable ability to peer inside your soul? Yeah. That’s what this felt like. She knew something.

“I know that you are so much better behaved than I was,” she said. “You’re the sweetest little angel I know, and I’m not just saying that because I’m your mom. I mean it. I couldn’t have asked for a kinder and more loving daughter. But sometimes we get mixed up in things that are out of our control. I just…I want you to know that you can always talk to me. I don’t care how bad or crazy it may seem. Okay?”

This woman was officially way too intuitive for her own good.

“Thanks, Mom,” I said. I forced this constipated, bullshit smile that was becoming harder to fake.

Oddly enough, I found myself equally bothered with something else, and I needed a good subject change at the moment.

“Do you think I’m
too
nice?” I asked.

“
Too
nice?” said Mom. “I don’t think there’s such thing as
too
nice. That’s like complaining that there’s too much ice cream.”

I smiled at this response.

“Of course I always seem to get a brain freeze when I eat ice cream too fast,” she said. “And it tends to give me acid reflux.”

My smile faded.

At last we arrived at Villeneuve High—not a particularly large high school, but not a small one either. Despite its bland, stereotypical style, Dante appeared clearly fascinated. I gave my mom a brief hug before rushing out the door. Only a moment later, Dante appeared beside me.

“Man, is there a Demon aura buzzing around this place,” said Dante. “I can practically taste it.”

“That’s great,” I said. My mouth pinched shut as we passed through crowds of students. Somehow, despite being tangible though our blood-mixing, Dante passed through dozens of oblivious students like a wisp of smoke.

“Monica!”

I didn’t even need to turn around to know it was Zoey. In a black and blue follicle explosion, she nearly crashed into me. She grabbed me by both arms and the verbal typhoon unleashed. “Monica, are you okay? I was so worried about you! What happened? Is Casey okay? I just saw your mom drop you off. What happened to your car?”

Before I could even process Zoey’s interrogation rape, I was distracted by Dante. This wouldn’t have been unusual, considering his promising track record. Except this time it wasn’t anything he was doing on purpose. Instead, he raised one hand to his head. Like he was struck by a sudden migraine. The other hand followed. Together, they pressed against his temples. He winced, shrinking against some invisible pain.

“Monica?” said Zoey.

My attention snapped back to reality. Zoey had her head cocked to the side. Black and blue hair spilled across her shoulder. Highlighted in heavy eyeliner, the concern in her gaze was obvious.

“I gotta go,” said Dante. A swirl of black mist swallowed him. He vanished before I could even blink.

“Monica!”

“Sorry, I…sorry.” I struggled to make eye contact with my best friend, halfway expecting Dante to return out of nowhere. “I’m just a little out of it today.”

“I’ll say,” said Zoey. She cocked her head to the other side. “So what happened?”

If there was ever a Nobel Peace Prize for lying, I would totally own that shit. Zoey’s eyes bugged out, especially as I recounted the epic “bear” chase, and how we barely escaped with our lives and yada yada yada, I’m an adrenaline-enhanced supergirl. Zoey gasped. Her hands clasped over her mouth as I informed her of Casey’s injuries and his hospitalization.

“Is he okay?” Her voice was a whisper, as if speaking aloud might make his condition worse.

“He regained consciousness before we left. Casey’s tough. He’ll be alright.”

I really wished I could believe half the bull I was shitting out of my mouth. It was almost easier to pretend it was the truth. Hell, it made lying easier.

“I sure hope he’s alright,” said Zoey. She bit her lower lip. However, in true Zoey-fashion, she forced this pained expression into a “FUCK YOU, PAIN!” smile. “Can’t have my future husband dying on me now, can we?”

I smiled at Zoey’s optimism. “Of course not.”

Zoey pulled me into a tight hug and kissed me on the cheek. “Love you, girl. I’ve got to run, but we’ll talk more about Prince Charming later, okay?”

I stupidly glanced down at my wrist, only to realize (for the umpteenth time) that I wasn’t wearing a watch. Truthfully, I hadn’t worn a watch since sixth grade, when pretty little Lilith Hartley teased me about how dorky it was. I’ve steered clear of watches
and
certain blonde bitches ever since.

“Class is starting already?” I asked.

“Nah, I just have some stuff I need to take care of first,” said Zoey.

“Stuff? What kind of stuff?”

“Oh, you know. Just…stuff.”

“Please, don’t overwhelm me with the details.”

“I know, I try. See you at lunch, okay?”

“Yeah…” I said, but Zoey was already power-walking toward the entrance. I was left standing rather stupidly on Villeneuve High’s front lawn, wondering with a vacant stare why my life had taken such a sudden turn for the strange

“Well that was weird,” said Dante.

I whipped around to find the Demon behind me. He was facing the school entrance as well, mimicking my less-than-thought-provoking expression.

“What’s weird?” I asked. “I mean, aside from you making stupid faces and disappearing for no apparent reason.”

“Your friend.” With that, Dante started walking towards the busy entryway.

“Zoey?” I said. I took a few hasty steps to catch up with him. “What about her?”

“You asked me what was weird. She is.”

I was one of those few people in the universe built with a strong immunity to condescending sarcasm. Not that it didn’t bother me. I was just really good at keeping my damn mouth shut. Whether it was Casey’s injury or the sudden Demon-chase I was being thrown into, who knew, but Dante was successfully pushing against my very last nerve.

“Hey, asshole. That’s my best friend you’re talking about.”

“I’m not talking about high-school-weird, Miss Sassy Pants. I’m talking about
weird
-weird.”

I nearly tripped on the Holy Shit that he was insinuating. “Wait. You don’t mean she’s a…a…?”

“A what?” said Dante. “A Demon? Hardly.”

My face flushed a similar shade as my hair. “Well, what the hell are you talking about?”

“Just because she’s not a Demon doesn’t mean she’s one hundred percent human either.”

FUCK
was what my brain said. “W-w-w-w-w-wh-
whaaaaaaughhhhhh
…” was what my mouth said, which was basically the same thing.

Okay, mouth. Let’s try that again.

“She’s not human?” I said.

“
Technically
she’s human. But there is something very inhuman about her. And whatever it is, it gave me one swell headache back there.” Dante’s smile twitched.

“Well then, what is she?” I asked. We were now climbing the stairs to the entrance, and I was glad the only people around me were in groups, engaged in their own conversations. Nevertheless, I kept my gaze focused straight.

“I don’t know. But I intend to find ou—”

WHACK!

“Owww!”

I had just passed through the entrance when Dante smacked face-first into…nothing. The Demon stumbled back, grabbing his nose and blinking in a sudden daze. If there was any indication as to whether or not Demons felt pain, Dante’s groaning seemed to hint a great big fucking yes. I had only caught the scene briefly out of the corner of my eye. But it
looked
like he walked into an invisible wall.

Students continued to pass me by. Some sent me weird glances as I paused in the middle of the entry. ‘Don’t mind me,’ my awkward smile said. ‘I just like standing in the middle of the goddamn entryway.’ I waited for the last big group to pass. Extended my hands, I reached out to the area where Dante had crashed. Nothing. There was absolutely nothing there.

Dante, however, had already staggered to his feet and copied my very same motion.

His hands flattened against an invisible surface like a sheet of glass.

“Oh, this is great,” said Dante. “This is just perfect.”

I glanced from side to side to make sure no one was near. “What is it?”

“It’s a Spirit Barrier,” said Dante. He slid his hands across the surface. “It seals any structure, closed or open, from Demonic spirits.”

“But…wouldn’t that keep the other Demons out?”

“Normally. Unfortunately, if these Demons are anything like our friend, the Big Bad Wolf, they are far beyond Demonic spirits.”

“Like what? Are they…are they
possessing
people?”

“Well, yes and no. I do believe there’s Demonic possession involved, but it gets more complicated than that. Take Amon for example. He certainly didn’t possess some genetically-enhanced superwolf. Considering the nature of these deaths, I believe that many of these Demons are just as evolved. Pure Demonic energy conglomerated into a tangible, physical body. In Amon’s case, a big-ass, pissed-off doggy.”

“But why would they create a barrier like this?”

“My guess is that Amon talked. The other Demons probably know that I’m helping you.”

My spine became a rigid pillar of ice. I immediately turned and started for the exit. “That’s it. I’m going home.”

“What?” said Dante. “You can’t.”

“Watch me.”

“Monica, we need a lead.”

“Easy for you to say,” I said. Spinning around, I forced the best angry face I could muster. I’m sure it was enough to make kittens tremble. “I’m doing all the work, and these Demons are already onto us.”

“So…what?” Dante said. “You’re just going to walk home? Pretend like none of this is happening?”

“Sounds good to me.”

As I stormed down the stairs and across the lawn, Dante sputtered for a response. Even from the growing distance, I could hear him relinquish a final exasperated sigh.

“Monica, you’re a Demon Slayer.”