Demons (Eirik Book 1) (4 page)

Damn gators.

I peered closer at my reflection and cringed. My pupils were dilated, and my blue eyes had turned stormy, rivets of white crisscrossing them like lightning. I’d say they glowed, but that would mean I’d inherited something from the one person I’d tried so hard to forget.

My mother.

The image of the last time I’d seen her often snuck in to haunt me when I least expected it. The fear in her eyes as she’d stared at me. I’d gotten used to seeing her eyes glow after a vision. Gotten used to seeing them darken with hatred whenever she stared at me, but never filled with stark fear until that day. The day she’d walked out on us because of me. I’d only been seven, but on that day I’d learned that words could hurt more than actions.

“She is evil, a harbinger of death,” she’d whispered, glowing eyes darting from Dad to Grams before settling on me. “Death and monsters are all I see in your future. I should have killed you before you were born. Now, something is protecting you. You escaped the fire. The drowning. The falls. I’ve left you in the bayou so many times…”

My world had shattered as I’d listened to her list ways she’d tried to kill me and failed. A fire had gutted our house when I was about four, but I had miraculously escaped. I still couldn’t remember how, except Dad had found me by the trees near our house. My memories of who’d rescued me were hazy. Sometimes I dreamed it was a woman lifting me and carrying me to safety. Other times, I heard more than one voice.

Nightmares about drowning had spawned my fear of water. And the trips to the bayou must have happened when I was a baby because I couldn’t remember them, but they might explain my fear of gators and snakes and everything scaly.

Ten years had passed, but I still remembered her words and the rage in Dad’s eyes. My father, a decorated officer of the law, would have killed my mother with his bare hands if Grams hadn’t stopped him. Grams. Tears filled my eyes as I thought about her.

“Snap out of it, Celestia. You are more than what people see and stronger than you believe.”

I lifted my chin and blinked rapidly until I stopped the tears from falling. The white streaks in my eyes disappeared. A smile lifted the corner of my lips, and dimples flashed on my cheeks as Grams’ mantra echoed in my head.

You are more than what people see and stronger than you believe.

It had taken me a long time to see that. Because of Grams, I’d risen above hurtful things people said and did. Because of her, I’d embraced who I was. She’d even explained away my mother’s actions. It had taken years for her words to sink in, but I now understood that Mom had gone mad with magic. Magic madness was real. It affected Witches when they misinterpreted their visions. I had no idea what premonitions Mom had seen to believe I was a harbinger of death.

“I help people, Mama,” I said to my reflection. “I save lives. When you come back, you’ll see just how wrong you were.”

Feeling ridiculous for talking to myself, I splashed water on my face, grabbed paper towels from the dispenser, and dried my skin. My mother was never coming back, so there was no proving to her that I was a good Witch. She’d probably found a coven that would accept her interpretations of visions and had a new life. A happy life, away from me.

Sighing, I grabbed my glasses, waved my hand, and unlocked the door. I almost bumped into Hayden when I stepped outside. Somehow I knew she’d be waiting for me. Hayden was like my guardian angel.

“Saved another soul?” she asked.

“Yep.” The hallway was still empty. Time in the astral plane moved at a different pace from real time. I couldn’t have been gone for longer than five minutes, yet the time in the bayou had felt like an eternity. “You shouldn’t have followed me.”

“I didn’t have a choice. Someone had to dampen the ruckus you were causing in there, Banshee. I heard you all the way from class.”

I made a face. “No, you didn’t.”

“Yes, I did. My Heimdall genes don’t lie.”

Hayden’s obsession with Norse mythology drove me nuts. She claimed her mother was a descendant of the Norse god Heimdall, and if the mighty Heimdall could hear grass grow all the way from his lofty home in Asgard, she could hear anything. Then there was Odin and his all-seeing eye, Thor and his magical hammer… I’d heard it all before the movies.

I wasn’t big on mythology, but fictitious Thor and Loki were too hot to miss. Hayden had dragged me to see
The Avengers
. By the end of the movie, I’d become a fan. Even though Thor was hot, I was more Team Loki. I was a strong believer in Witches supporting each other, like the Witches Guild (WG)—the outdated organization Grams had staunchly supported over covens. Or maybe it was Loki’s attitude I loved. The man kicked ass with style.

“Heimdall’s what?” I faked ignorance to tick her off and get her off my scent. I had completely forgotten to cast a dampening spell.

“Don’t even try it. For such a powerful Witch, your spells suck.”

“Yeah, let’s go with that,” I murmured and started toward the class.

“Oh no. You didn’t, did you?” Hayden asked from behind me. “Seriously, Celestia!”

I stopped. “A man needed saving, Hayden, and Mr. Dupree had already delayed me. So, yeah, I just locked the damn door and got busy. Besides, I knew you’d take care of things if it became an issue.” I gave her a toothy grin.

She sighed. “You take too many chances. What was it this time?”

“A guy in the bayou was about to be shredded by gators. Or rather he would have been according to my vision, but I got there just in time.”

Her green eyes widened. She really had the most gorgeous eyes ever. I call them eclipse eyes—blue with a fiery ring around the black iris. No, she was gorgeous, period—from her flawless brown skin and curly hair with natural blonde highlights to eyes that changed color with her mood.

We were both Creole, my ancestry more French mixed with Native American. She was the real deal, a blend of every race that made the Creole culture so unique. She’d gotten her coloring from her Haitian father, high cheekbones from her Native American grandfather, unusual eyes from some unknown relative in her gene pool, and everything else from her Irish mother. While I was pretty enough by most standards, guys didn’t act stupid around me like they did around Hayden.

“You hate gators,” she said. “No wonder you look wigged out.”

“Oh gee, thanks. And FYI, meanie, they are just as scary in the AP,” I retorted, using the abbreviation for astral plane. “Come on. I’m sure the class is almost over.”

“Does it matter? You’ve already flunked the test,” she said matter-of-factly, falling in step with me. “Teachers know students guess Cs.”

“Next time, I’ll go for Bs.”

“It’s not funny. I promised you’d ace calculus, and I hate to be wrong.”

Hayden was good at two things—math and computers. No, make that three things. She was amazing with spells. It was like fate decided she should have everything—brains and beauty—and left little for everyone else. If I weren’t a more powerful Witch than she, I’d be so envious of her. Still, there were perks to having her as my best friend.

First, she was an unaligned Witch, like me. That meant we didn’t belong to any coven. The Witches at school were aligned and did a lot of things together. Partying. Hanging out. Studying at school or spells. Grams never believed in covens, and thankfully neither did Hayden’s mom. Second, she was an amazing tutor. I’d aced math throughout high school and was now taking calculus in my senior year because of Hayden. And third, she was an amazing friend.

“Did you finish your test before you came to my rescue?” I asked.

“Yep. It was easy.”

“Show off.”

She scoffed at the idea. “Stating a fact is not showing off. At least I’m not determined to save the world like some people. You do know that adversity creates character.”

“Yeah, boatman would have been gator chow,” I shot back. “Not just be missing a limb.” I couldn’t bring myself to tell her about Mom. No one, except Dad, knew what she’d told me ten years ago. Grams died right after Hayden and her mother arrived in town, but never confided in them. It was kind of weird how fast she’d clicked with Tammy when she’d never trusted other Witches.

“Come on. I’m going to beg Mr. Dupree to let me retake the test, or you could beguile him into doing it. Your mojo never fails to impress.” The bell rang. “Damn! Can you wait for me and give me a ride home? Dad promised we’d fix my car over the weekend, but forgot to get the parts, so it’s still in our driveway with the hood partially open, and I hate to wait for Zack to finish practice.” My cousin Zack went to Windfall High School, which was down the road from my school.

Hayden shrugged. “I can wait. I’ll tell Mom we’ll be late getting to the shop. Better put on those”—she indicated my glasses with a nod—“if you want to keep your contacts story straight.”

I glanced at the case. “Nah. I’m sure I didn’t fool him. Remind me again when I left these at your place?”

“Not at my place. Downstairs at TC last week. I meant to give them to you and kept forgetting.”

Students poured out of the classrooms. As usual, discussion shifted to what people had done over the weekend. It was the same every Monday. They discussed movies, parties, and hookups, but only whispered about spells or coven business. Most of the students in covens hung out with their coven sisters and brothers. Solitary practitioners like me were considered weird. I didn’t care. I had Tammy and Hayden, and my cousin Zack, though he’d rather die than admit he had the gift.

A few smiled and nodded. Or should I say a few smiled at me and nodded at Hayden. She intimidated people. I used to think she did because she was beautiful, but I realized it was the frosty look she gave people. Needless to say, people just assumed she was stuck-up.

She wasn’t. She was the sweetest and kindest person I knew. She and her mother had been through a lot of crap, so she was naturally wary of people. When they first moved to Windfall during our freshman year, Giselle had tried to recruit her to join her entourage, which would have led to joining their coven, but Hayden had gravitated toward me.

Giselle, Rosette La Fontaine, and Corrine Raquet walked past, saw us, and laughed as though sharing a private joke at our expense. I made a face, but Hayden didn’t even glance at them. She was good at ignoring people.

We entered the class to find Mr. Dupree flipping through test papers. “Was it worth it?” he asked without looking up.

I wondered if I could bullshit my way out of this and fake ignorance.
Fat chance of that happening.
I sucked at lying. “Yes. Can I finish the test? Maybe redo the ones I skipped?”

“No, but you can work on this.” He pulled out stapled papers from inside his folder and slid it across the desk. “Bring it back on Wednesday.”

I flipped through the papers. “Wednesday? There are five pages…” I caught Hayden shaking her head and backed away from Mr. Dupree’s desk. “Thanks, Mr. Dupree. Wednesday it is.”

“And Miss Devereaux?” he called, and I glanced back. “If you don’t learn to control them, they’ll control you.”

Cryptic, but spoken like someone who had no idea how my visions worked. They were unpredictable and often involved someone seriously hurt or dying. I couldn’t put them aside for later just because I was in the middle of a class. If someone needed me, I had to help. We headed to our lockers, grabbed our backpacks, and went toward the school entrance.

~*~

Music swelled and ebbed along the hallways as students disappeared into the rooms for dance, drama, music, and audio tech club. We didn’t have sports teams like Windfall High, but we had amazing performing arts programs.

Windfall High School had a serious athletic program and was three-time 4A State Champions in football. My cousin Zack was a decent Witch, but an amazing running back. Louisiana Tech Bulldogs had already offered him a full ride to college, and he’d accepted. Since there were no special witchcraft scholarships, I didn’t blame him.

I was undecided between Loyola and the Uptown—Tulane. My grades, however, hadn’t impressed their admissions offices enough to offer me an academic scholarship. I was an above average student because of my “other activities.” However, being the only daughter of a popular police chief, who might one day run for a higher office, had its perks. College admission was all about what you can offer the school these days.

Outside school, students with no activities rushed to their cars, bikes, or scooters while some headed to the nearby city bus stop. Our charter school wasn’t in the public school system, so no free bus rides. I guess the parents who started the school wanted us tucked away from prying eyes.

“Yo, Celestia,” Phil called. He and Ethan and two other guys were throwing a Frisbee on the east side lawn at the front of the school. He was in music and audio tech club and had dreams of becoming a music producer someday.

I stopped and shaded my eyes with my hands to look at him.

“Sorry for giving you a hard time in class,” he said, his eyes lingering on Hayden. Most guys often did that—talked to me while checking her out.

I shrugged. “It’s no biggie.”

“You guys want to hang out?” he asked, leaving the game and approaching us. Ethan threw the Frisbee to one of the other guys and followed him. Hayden groaned softly beside me. “You know, watch us play some music?”