Inner Demons Read online

  I struggled against it. I wanted them to stop the tattoo. They had lied to me. I knew it now. This was a very big deal. Something was searching my memories.

  Something. Or someone. But I was powerless to stop it.

  The visions went dark and graciously, the burning subsided into a dull ache in the small of my back. My body was rigid and tense, every muscle on edge. Something slithered through my insides, then crawled to the surface of the skin on my back. I felt it push through like a newborn entering the world for the first time.

  Somewhere behind me, I heard a gasp. Then, everything went dark.

  A Connection To This Demon

  I awoke on Monday morning with a start.

  What the hell happened last night?

  My lower back ached as if I had suffered a hella sunburn. I shuffled to the bathroom and lifted the back of my t-shirt.

  Oh holy Jesus!

  The tattoo on my back was not a fluffy kitten or a sunny daisy. It was a demon. A miniature gargoyle-looking thing with wings, cloaked in a dark, swirling shadow. Its eyes opened and the demon looked at me. I screamed and dropped my t-shirt.

  I could feel the demon move across the skin of my lower back. It felt like fingernails raking across my already tender skin.

  Anger roared inside of me like a tornado. This was definitely not just a charm or a fun enchantment spell. Something was living inside of me now. They had let something into my body that had a mind of its own. I could feel it taking up residence in its small piece of real estate.

  A knock on the door to my bedroom startled me. Quickly lowered my t-shirt.

  “Yeah?”

  Courtney stepped into my room. Her blonde hair was bone-straight and fell across her pale face. “Good morning,” she said. “You about ready to go?”

  I looked at the clock. I had seriously overslept. “Just give me a couple of minutes,” I said.

  In the van on the way to school, Courtney talked about some project she had due for school. I only half listened. Ever since Agnes died, Courtney had really started to come out of her shell. I enjoyed hanging out with her sometimes, but this morning, I was seriously preoccupied.

  Mary Anne, the only other girl who lived with us at Shadowford Home for Girls, was as silent as ever. She kept her headphones on almost constantly and rarely ever said so much as hello to me.

  When I got to school, I went around the back way in order to avoid Drake. I was supposed to keep the tattoo ritual a secret from everyone who wasn't on the squad, but if Drake saw me like this, he'd know something was up. I wanted to talk to Brooke and the others first. They owed me a real explanation for lying to me about the seriousness of the so-called tattoo.

  I found Brooke in the student parking lot rummaging through her trunk.

  “What the hell did you do to me last night?” I kept my voice low, but the anger in it was apparent.

  Brooke looked up, her eyebrows drawn together in confusion. “What are you talking about? We started the ritual and you passed out. Then we took you home and put you back in your own bed.”

  “Stop acting like this was just no big deal,” I said. Anger boiled up inside of me, and a bottle cap rattled across the parking lot in front of my foot. I stepped on it to shut it up. “You told me this was just a fun little hazing ritual. No one said I'd be inviting some... thing into my body. I thought it was just a spell, but I can feel this thing inside of me. I can feel its mood and its thoughts.”

  Brooke sighed and shook her head. “Don't take everything so seriously, Harper. It's just a spell. There's nothing living inside you except the magic ink I injected into your skin. It moves because of magic, not because it's alive or anything.”

  I took a deep breath to steady myself and keep from saying something I might regret. She was wrong. This was no enchanted ink spot on my skin. “How come you guys all got pretty little images like a horse or a flower, and I got this evil looking demon thing?”

  Fear flashed across Brooke's features and she looked away from me, pretending to search for something in her bag. “I don't know,” she said. “The ink chooses something deep inside your heart. How am I supposed to know what's in your heart? You're the only one who can answer that.”

  “Well I know there's no creepy demon in my heart, if that's what you mean.” I followed her as she made her way toward the building. “Maybe you did it wrong. Maybe you messed it up or something. Is there any way to get it removed and start over?”

  Brooke stopped and looked at me, for the first time with a little sympathy in her eyes. “Look, I don't know what happened, alright? The shadow demon is a weird thing to come out during the ritual. I've never seen it before, but it's a sacred image for the Order. You should be honored, not pissed.”

  “So that's what this thing is called? A shadow demon?”

  Brooke nodded. “You'll learn more about them in training, but I can't explain why one ended up on your back. All I can tell you is that somewhere in your past, you have a connection to this demon.”

  I stood there, dumbfounded as Brooke left and hurried toward the building. The first period bell rang, but I couldn't force my feet to move. A connection to the demon. My hand went up to the sapphire pendant I wore around my neck. My mother's pendant. It had saved me from Agnes just a couple of weeks ago. Just when I was sure I was going to die, a demon had materialized from the shadows and carried her away.

  I'd spent the past few weeks trying to deny what I'd seen. I didn't want to believe it. But now I had a constant reminder of that night tattooed across my back. I shuddered, thinking that my connection to this shadow demon went back much further than a couple of weeks.

  “There you are. I've been looking for you everywhere. Why didn't you meet me out front?” Drake's voice pulled me from my thoughts and I forced a smile onto my face.

  “Hey, sorry,” I said. “I had something I had to do this morning.”

  He pulled me into a big bear hug. “It's okay, but you should have texted me. I gave you a phone for a reason.”

  “Sorry,” I said. I wasn't used to someone keeping tabs on me all the time.

  “Today's the big day, I guess,” he said. “How are you feeling? You ready.”

  “Ready to learn,” I said.

  Ready for answers.

  “That's my girl.”

  Drake walked me to class. It took every ounce of my willpower not to flinch as he put his hand on the small of my back.

  The Magic Doesn't Come From the Words

  “Everyone give a warm welcome to our newest Demon cheerleader, Harper Madison!”

  The entire cheerleading squad was gathered in the gym after school. Mrs. King pulled me up front and I smiled as everyone cheered. I had spent most of the day getting over the anger I felt about last night. After all, I couldn't undo what had already been done. Instead, I focused on the reason I'd joined the squad in the first place. I wanted to learn to control this wild magic inside of me. I wanted answers.

  “If everyone will please go into the locker room and get changed, I'd like to talk to Harper privately for a minute.”

  The girls disappeared into the women's locker room. Mrs. King motioned for me to take a seat on the bleachers. She sat next to me, turning her body completely towards me. I was struck by how young she looked. She could have been a teenager herself if I didn't know any better. I found myself wondering just how old she was, but I figured it would be rude to ask.

  “I heard about the ritual last night.”

  I looked up, surprised. I hadn't expected her to mention the tattoo.

  “Brooke told me you were upset this morning,” she said. “About the shadow demon.”

  I opened my mouth to protest, but she shook her head. “It's completely understandable. To be honest, I'm excited that yours turned out to be a demon.”

  “Last night, they told me it was just a hazing ritual. A charm of some kind that wouldn't be permanent. But it's more than that isn't it?”

  Mrs. King smiled. “You're so much mor
e perceptive than the others. It's exciting for me to see your level of understanding already, when we haven't even started the training.”

  “That doesn't really answer my question,” I said.

  “No, I guess it doesn't.” She leaned forward and placed her hand on my leg. “There is a lot you're about to learn, Harper. About our way of life here. The tattoo is the first step. It's like a leap of faith. A mark of acceptance.”

  I felt as if I had been branded. My foot tapped nervously against the bleachers.

  “Harper, I promise you it will be worth it. Once you see what we can offer you, you'll forget all about the tattoo.”

  I studied her face. She seemed to be truly concerned about me. “So what happens next?”

  “It's a bit unusual to have a girl coming onto the squad mid-season, so you've got a lot of catching up to do. Plus, you're already a sophomore and most girls start their freshman year.” Mrs. King stood and I followed her toward the locker room. “What you're about to see might come as a shock.”

  Curious, my footsteps quickened. As we walked into the locker room, I stared open-mouthed at the empty space. Where did everyone go? I hadn't seen them pass by us to go outside or anything.

  “Come with me,” Mrs. King said. She stood on the far side of the room at the edge of a long row of lockers.

  We walked together to the back corner of the locker room where a large demon was painted onto the wall. Mrs. King stepped up and touched the demon's face. Her hand passed completely through.

  My eyes grew wide and I placed my hand over my mouth. A secret passage-way in the girl's locker room? Mrs. King walked straight through it. Cautiously, I followed her, my hands out in front of me just in case. I giggled as I passed through. A sort of invisible force-field tickled when I crossed over it.

  “Only girls with the tattoo and official members of the Order can pass through this doorway,” she said.

  “Does that mean you still have a tattoo?”

  “Not exactly,” she said. She didn't explain what she meant by that. Instead, she led me down a flight of stone stairs and into a candle-lit room below. All of the other cheerleaders were seated at stone workbenches.

  A seat next to Allison was empty and Mrs. King motioned for me to take it. I sat down and waited with anticipation. I had expected to be practicing cheers all afternoon in the gym, not learning magic down in some secret dungeon training room. Given a choice, I'd much rather be doing magic. Maybe joining the squad would turn out to be the best decision I'd ever made.

  “Today we're going to practice creating our own light sources.” Mrs. King held out her palm and created a spark of light similar to the orb Brooke made the night before. The only difference was that Mrs. King's light was a shimmery purple. Also, I noticed she didn't have to say a magic word to create it. “For those of you who are new, you can start with a simple candle.”

  Mrs. King snapped her fingers and tall white candles appeared on the tables in front of all of the Freshman. One also appeared in front of me. I tried to hide my joy and fascination. I didn't want to look too much like a noob. On the other hand, I really was amazed. I knew being a part of the cheerleading team would mean being let in on some of their secrets, but I never dreamed it would be like this.

  “Second and third level trainees can work on creating the spark. And Brooke and the other seniors will walk around and help anyone who is having trouble.”

  Everyone turned to their individual tasks. I stared at the white candle on the table, then looked to the girl across from me. Her candle was already giving off a smoke, but hadn't actually produced any light. I watched to see what she was doing so I could copy her.

  “Illuminate,” she said. The wick of her candle sparked slightly, then went dim. She bit her lip, then looked up and saw me watching her. “Hey.”

  “Hi.”

  “Aren't you going to try it?

  “I don't really know what to do,” I said.

  “Just concentrate on what you want to happen. Like with the candle, try to imagine that it's lit up with a nice, big glowing flame. Then, you say 'illuminate', and send your energy into the flame.”

  She made it sound easy. “Do you have to use the word?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Mrs. King made her orb without saying any kind of magic spell word. So why do we need one?”

  I felt a hand on my shoulder. I looked up to see Mrs. King standing beside me, listening to our conversation.

  “The magic doesn't come from the words,” she said. “It comes from deep inside of you. But the words help new witches focus on what they're trying to accomplish. Most girls say 'illuminate' but you could just as easily say 'flame' or 'light' with the same result. When you get to be more skilled in your magic abilities and more in tune with your shadow demon, you will be able to do a lot of magic without using any words at all.”

  “My shadow demon?” I was suddenly very aware of the tattoo on my back.

  “Every witch in the Order of Shadows gets her power from a shadow demon,” she said. “Most of the girls have heard this before, but the history of the Order is extremely interesting.”

  I listened carefully.

  “More than a thousand years ago, a shadow demon called Mythic opened a portal into our world. He took on human form and fell in love with a beautiful woman named Aeliana.”

  It sounded more like a fairy tale than a true story, but I was interested.

  “When they joined together,” she said. “Wrath's power was transferred into the spirit of their baby girl, giving her extraordinary powers no human had ever had before. All of the members of the Order of Shadows are descendants of Wrath and Aeliana.”

  I was a descendant of a demon? Real demons didn't exist, right?

  But I knew better. My hand instinctively went up to touch my sapphire pendant. I'd seen a shadow demon before. The night Agnes died.

  Part of me wanted to laugh it off as ridiculous. But part of me breathed in her story like it was my first breath after almost drowning. I felt a piece of the puzzle that had been my life suddenly click into place. I had never fit in anywhere until now, and for the first time, I was beginning to understand why.

  “In a way, there is a shadow demon inside all of us,” she continued. “When you learn to communicate with that side of yourself, you will feel your own power grow.”

  Under the table, my hands shook. Her words made sense to me. It was like finding myself for the first time. All my life, people had gotten angry with me for my behavior, but no one had ever tried to explain where my strange powers came from. Instead, they pretended my power didn't exist. They acted as if I was just being a bad child with a terrible temper.

  But here, my power was recognized and appreciated for the first time.

  “Give it a try,” she said to me, then nodded toward the candle.

  Nervously, I turned my attention toward the blackened wick. In my mind, I imagined a bright flame. I put all of my energy into that thought and just as I opened my mouth to say the word 'Illuminate', the wick caught fire. I reached back and touched the demon tattoo on my back. He writhed under my hand.

  The girl across from me sucked in a surprised gasp and next to me, Allison clapped in excitement.

  “Did you see that?” Allison said loudly. “Harper just lit her candle without saying a word.”

  Everyone looked toward me, obvious admiration on their faces. I smiled. For the first time in my life, I truly felt like I belonged.

  Behind Every Secret

  Over the course of the next two weeks, I spent every afternoon down in the training room below the gym. We didn't work on a single routine, but when I asked Lark about it, she told me not to worry. We were walking together toward the gym one day after school.

  “We never actually work on the routines unless we know someone is watching.”

  “Then when do you learn them?” I didn't want to be the only one who didn't know the routines come game time.

  “Remembe
r that black diamond necklace Brooke gave you for the tryouts?”

  I nodded.

  “Similar to that,” she said. “Mrs. King has developed a spell that allows memories and abilities to be stored inside an item. But the genius is that instead of a necklace or something like that, she stores the memory of our routines in our actual cheerleading sneakers. All we have to do is put them on and we just sort of know the routine.”

  I laughed. “You've got to be kidding me. How is that even possible?”

  “Are you really going to question it after every thing you've seen so far?”

  Lark waved to a couple of guys who passed in the hall. I wondered what they would say if she told them her cheerleading routines were stored in her sneakers. They'd send her straight to the looney bin.

  “I know,” I said. “It's just still so unbelievable.”

  “But you've been doing magic since you were little, right?”

  I shrugged. “I guess, but it's not like I knew what it was.”

  “Still,” she said. “That's really rare. Most of us didn't even know we had these abilities until we made the squad and Mrs. King taught us what to do.”

  “I have a question.” There was something that had been on my mind ever since Mrs. King's first speech about the history of the Order of Shadows.

  Lark stopped and studied me. We were near the entrance to the gym, but she hesitated, then stepped to the side of the door. “What is it?”

  “If everyone with these abilities is a descendant of a shadow demon, then why are only a few of us chosen to join the Order of Shadows? I mean, Agnes obviously had a lot of power, but she wasn't chosen. Why?”

  I hadn't spoken about Agnes much since her death. It was a sore subject for me. I really thought I could trust Agnes. I thought we were friends. Before she tried to kill me, that is.

  “I'm not sure,” Lark said. “Maybe there's more to being chosen for the Order than just having natural abilities.”