Demonglass (10 page)

T
hankfully, there were no weird dreams that night, and I slept nearly until noon. I would’ve slept even later if my door hadn’t opened.

“Go’way, Jenna,” I mumbled into my pillow.

“I would if I were Jenna,” a deep voice—a voice that was most definitely not Jenna’s—replied.

All of last night’s events came rushing back to me, and in my sleep-fogged brain I remembered Archer saying to keep the coin on me, that he would find me, and how I’d put the coin under my pillow.

I sat up so fast I practically broke the sound barrier, but it was Cal standing in my doorway, not Archer. I heaved a huge sigh, one of relief, and not even a little bit of disappointment.

Of course, once I’d wrapped my mind around the fact that it was Cal and not Archer standing in my bedroom, it dawned on me that
Cal was standing in my bedroom
.

“Hey,” I breathed, hoping my hair wasn’t a huge tangled mess, even though I was ninety-nine percent sure that it was. I mean, I could see it out of my peripheral vision.

“Hey.”

“You’re, um, in my room.”

“I am.”

“Is that allowed?”

“Well, we are engaged,” Cal deadpanned.

I squinted at him, shoving big handfuls of my hair away from my face. I had no idea if that was supposed to be a joke or not. You could never tell with Cal.

“Did you want to watch me sleep or something? Because if that’s the case, this engagement is
so
broken.”

Cal’s lips quirked in what might have been a smile. “Do you have a smart-ass reply for everything?”

“If at all possible, yeah. So why’d you come in here, then?”

“To see how last night went.”

My heart slammed painfully into my ribs, and suddenly all I could think about was that stupid gold coin currently burning a hole underneath my pillow. “It was good,” I said, scooting against the headboard. “You know. Villagey. Hate that you had to miss it.”

“Yeah.” He ran a hand over his jaw. “It was weird. Your dad said there were only a couple of plants that I needed to look at, but it was like as soon as I finished healing one plant, another one started drooping and looking sick. I must’ve worked on every bush in that whole garden. Took me until nearly ten o’clock last night.”

“That is weird,” I said, even as a suspicion began to form in the back of my mind. I couldn’t have been the only one to realize that Cal wouldn’t have been cool with going to Shelley’s.

“Did you learn anything about Nick and Daisy?”

Oh, right. That whole part of my mission had been a total bust. “No, not really. It was a pretty boring night, actually.”

Despite all the practice I’d had over the past few months, I was a terrible liar, and Cal wasn’t an idiot. He watched me intently for a second before saying, “Your dad got home early this morning. Apparently L’Occhio di Dio raided some Prodigium club in London last night.”

“Wow,” I said faintly. “That must’ve sucked.”

“Yeah,” Cal said, never dropping his eyes from mine. “It seems they heard that the head of the Council’s daughter was there with two other demons and a vampire.”

I felt the blood drain out of my face. “Crap. Is he mad?”

Cal shrugged. “That’s one word for it. I’m not all that thrilled with it either.”

I pushed the covers off and got out of bed, making sure my nightshirt didn’t ride up. “Cal, I already have to deal with an angry dad today. Please don’t pull some macho ‘betrothed’ thing on top of it, okay?”

He caught my wrist. “I’m not. And it’s not you I’m pissed at. It’s them. They shouldn’t have taken you there.”

His hand was warm on my skin. “I think they were trying to be nice,” I told him. “And they said that The Eye had never been there before.”

His fingers tightened, almost to the point of pain. “So they
were
looking for you.”

“Yeah. Seems like it.”

There was a light knock at the door. Cal let go of my arm and we jumped about six feet apart as Lara eased the door open. If Mrs. Casnoff had caught Cal in my bedroom back at Hecate—with the door closed, and me still in my pajamas—I had a feeling there would have been steely glares, pursed lips, and words like “wildly inappropriate.”

But if anything, Lara looked…well, pleased. Her expression was slightly smug as she said, “Sophie, your father is waiting for you in the library.”

Ugh.
I nodded and said, “Right. Let me grab a shower, and I’ll be right there.”

“He also requests that you wear something other than jeans and sneakers.”

That was irritating, but I didn’t want to take it out on Lara. “I have a dress I can wear.”

“Excellent,” Lara replied, but she made no move to leave.

“I, uh, guess that’s my cue to get out of your hair,” Cal said, his neck turning slightly red. “See you later, Sophie.”

I watched him and Lara leave before leaning my head against the window and sighing. Outside, the fountain sparkled in the sunlight, and I caught a faint whiff of the lavender Dad was so in love with. In the light of day, it was easy to imagine last night hadn’t happened.

I felt a little bit better after I showered. Sure, Dad was going to be mad at me. There might even be some yelling. I could handle that. The only dress I’d brought was a white sundress with blue flowers on it. It was pretty, but I thought something a little more sophisticated might be called for. Using my magic, I changed it into a simple black, sleeveless sheath. I added a little black shrug jacket and pearls for good measure before it occurred to me that I was using my powers again.

Yeah, but just little powers,
I told myself.
The chances of your magic going all scary and dark while changing clothes are probably pretty slim
.

Still, it bothered me how easy it was to slip back into the habit of using magic. So I wrestled my hair into a demure braid the old-fashioned way, even though it ended up looking pretty sloppy. I decided not to wear makeup, figuring the more innocent I looked, the harder it might be for him to ground me, or shoot hellfire from his eyes, or whatever it was that angry demon dads did.

Before I left, I grabbed the gold coin from underneath my pillow, then looked around the room. No hiding places immediately jumped out at me, so in the end I added a pocket to my dress and slipped it in.

Dad was standing in front of the big windows when I got to the library, his hands clasped behind his back in the classic “I am so disappointed in my offspring” pose.

“Dad? Um, Lara said you wanted to see me.”

He turned around, his mouth a hard line. “Yes. Did you have a nice time with Daisy and Nick last night?”

I fought the urge to reach into my pocket and touch the coin. “Not particularly.”

He didn’t say anything, so we just stared at each other until I started feeling fidgety. “Look, if you’re going to punish me, I’d really rather just get it over with.”

Dad kept staring. “Would you like to know how I spent my evening? Well, not evening, really, so much as very early morning hours.”

Inwardly, I groaned. Mrs. Casnoff sometimes pulled this maneuver: she’d say she wasn’t mad, and then proceed to list all the ways my screwup had inconvenienced her. Maybe they taught it at those fancy schools non-reject Prodigium got to go to. “Sure.”

“I spent those hours on the phone. Do you know with whom?”

“One of those psychic hotlines?”

Dad gritted his teeth. “If only. No, I was busy assuring no less than thirty influential witches, warlocks, shifters, and faeries that surely, my daughter—the future head of the Council, I should add—had not injured over a dozen innocent Prodigium while attempting to escape a nightclub during a raid by L’Occhio di Dio.”

“I didn’t hurt them!” I exclaimed. Then I remembered just how hard they had hit the wall, and winced. “Well, not on purpose,” I amended.

Dad dropped his head and pinched the bridge of his nose between two fingers. “Damn it all, Sophia.”

“I’m sorry,” I said miserably. “Really. And I tried to help them. I dropped all of the Eyes that were coming after them.”

“No,” he said, raiding his head. “No, this is my fault. I should’ve dealt with this as soon as you arrived.”

“With what?”

“Come with me. We have an errand to run.” He swept his arm out like I was supposed to leave the library first, but I stayed right where I was. I felt totally confused and off-center. When Mom was mad at me, she just yelled and got it over with.

I swallowed. “Wherever we’re going, I want Jenna to come too.” Whatever Dad had planned, I didn’t think it was something I wanted to deal with alone.

But Dad gave this mysterious little smile and said, “I believe Miss Talbot has company.”

“What are you talking about?”

“It was my understanding that she and Victoria Stanford had grown close while Jenna was in Savannah last year. Fortunately, Miss Stanford was granted a few weeks vacation from her duties for the Council. I thought she might want to spend some of that time here with Jenna.”

“You flew Vix out here?”

He turned back to the window and nodded at something outside. “Her flight got in late last night.”

I went to stand beside him. There on the front lawn, Jenna was walking arm in arm with a very pale, very beautiful girl, their heads close together. Vix looked sixteen, but since she worked for the Council, she was probably older. One of the perks of being a vampire, I guess. Jenna was laughing. My throat felt tight with a feeling that was part happiness for Jenna, part jealousy that I’d have to share her, and part anger.

I remembered the look on Dad’s face on that first day, when Jenna had leaped to my defense, and he’d said Mrs.

Casnoff had called us what?

A formidable team.

“Well played, Dad,” I muttered.

I expected him to deny it, but instead he said, “Yes, I rather thought so myself. Now come along.”

I cast one more glance at Jenna and Vix, hoping to catch Jenna’s eye and wave, but she never looked up.

I
’d thought I was getting a pretty good handle on the layout of Thorne Abbey, but as I followed Dad down one massive corridor, then another narrower hallway, and finally up a flight of stairs, I got disoriented all over again.

Dad finally stopped in a section of the house that looked like it hadn’t been used since Alice was here. The furniture was covered in heavy drop cloths, and a thick layer of dust and grime coated the portraits on the wall. In front of us was a heavy oak door, and when Dad pushed it open, I half expected someone’s crazy locked-away wife to spring out at us.

But as I looked into the dim room, the only person I saw was me. Well, lots of mes.

Nearly every square inch of wall was covered in mirrors of all kinds: huge mirrors in ornate frames that looked like they weighed three times more than me; tiny, round mirrors that only reflected little pieces of me; old mirrors, so warped and spotted that I could hardly see anything in them at all.

Dad crossed the room to open some gray velvet drapes, but when he tugged on them, the fabric fell away from the windows in a moldered heap.

“Oh, well,” he said, surveying the mess. “It’s my house anyway.” He raised his eyes to me. “I’m sure you’re wondering why I’ve brought you here.”

I moved to the center of the room, my strappy sandals clacking on the marble floor. “I’m assuming this is where the punishment part comes in,” I said. “So do I need to clean all these mirrors, or do I have to, like, stare at myself until I feel shamed or something?”

Surprisingly, Dad gave a tiny smile. “No, nothing quite that abstract. I want you to break one of the mirrors.”

“Excuse me?”

Dad leaned back against the now-drapeless window and folded his arms over his chest. “Break a mirror, Sophie.”

“With what, my head? Because I’m pretty sure that’d be corporal punishment, and Mom would not be cool with that.”

“With your powers.”

Ugh. I took in the dozens of mirrors and muttered, “I think I’d rather use my head.” When Dad didn’t say anything, I sighed and turned to face him. “Okay, fine. Which one?”

He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. Just pick one.”

I studied the mirrors on the wall. One of the bigger ones might be easier to “target,” but when it inevitably exploded all over the place, there’d be a lot of flying glass to deal with. Best to pick one that might be harder to hit, but would cause less flaying and pain.

I settled on a mirror just to the left of Dad. It was about the size of my hand, and I focused all my concentration on it.
Break
.

The sound was nearly deafening as every single mirror in the room exploded outward in a sparkling spray. I screamed and threw my hands up, but the glass never touched me. It froze about three inches from my face, hovering there for a second, long enough for me to see my wide terrified eyes in thousands of bright shards. Then the pieces slowly began to slide backward toward the empty frames. There was a sound like a giant bubble popping, and suddenly the mirrors were whole again.

I whirled around. Dad was still standing at the window, but he was holding both his hands out, and there was a fine sheen of sweat on his face. When he dropped his arms, he sagged against the window seat and took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry!” I blurted out. “I told you, I suck at this. It’s like any time I try to do a spell, it goes all big and scary and explodey, and—”

Dad rubbed his forehead. “No, Sophie, it’s all right. That’s what I’d hoped you would do.”

“You hoped I’d commit mirrorcide?”

He laughed, but it sounded a little breathless. “No, I’d hoped to see just how powerful you really are.” His eyes were bright, and there was something that might have been pride in them. “You exceeded my expectations.”

“Well, yay,” I said. “So glad my skill at blowing crap up impresses you, Dad.”

“Your sarcasm is—”

“I know, I know, ‘an unattractive quality in a young lady.’”

But Dad grinned and suddenly looked much younger and less like a guy who ironed his ties. “Actually, I was going to say it’s something you must’ve gotten from me. Grace always hated sarcastic comments.”

“Oh, I know,” I replied without thinking. “I spent most of the seventh grade grounded because of it.”

He snorted. “She once put me out by the side of the road in Scotland because I made a completely harmless joke about her map-reading skills.”

“Really?”

“Mm-hmm. Had to walk nearly five bloody kilometers before she stopped to let me back in.”

“Dude. Mom is hard-core.”

For a moment we smiled at each other. Then Dad cleared his throat and looked away. “Anyway, your powers are definitely impressive, but what you lack is control.”

“Yeah, I kind of picked up on that.”

Dad pushed himself away from the window. “Alice taught you spells.” It wasn’t a question.

“I sucked at those, too,” I said, not looking at him. “Elodie was able to catch on a lot faster than I did.”

Dad watched me very closely for a second before saying, “Cal says that you used a transportation spell to get close enough to Alice to kill her.”

“Cal has a big mouth,” I muttered.

“Did you?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said, “but I literally moved like, five feet. It really wasn’t that impressive. Like I said, Elodie was able to do it a lot sooner than I could.”

“But Elodie was a witch,” Dad said. “Focusing her powers would’ve been much easier for her.”

“What do you mean?”

“Comparing your powers to Elodie’s is like comparing a geyser to a water pistol. Your magic is much greater than hers was, but it’s…unwieldy, let’s say. Factor that in with the emotional distress you suffered at Hecate, and it’s no surprise your spells have a tendency to go—what was the word you used? Explodey?”

I shook my head. “My spells were awful before I ever even went to Hex Hall, though. Remember the teacher who lost his memory? Or the whole prom disaster?”

“Same issue,” Dad replied. “Tremendous power, but no idea how to control it. And the more upset and afraid this makes you, the harder your powers are to handle.” He walked across the room and took my hands. Just like with Daisy and Nick, I could sense his power rolling through his veins. “I spent years feeling the same way, Sophie.”

“Really?” My voice was barely above a whisper.

He nodded. “I wasn’t much older than you when my mother…”

He trailed off, and his fingers reflexively tightened on mine. “After my father’s death,” he continued, “I would’ve ripped my powers out with my bare hands if I could have. Like you, I refused to use magic anymore because it scared me so much.”

“I hadn’t really thought about that. What it must have been like for you.” I tried to imagine how I would have felt if, instead of Alice killing Elodie, my dad had killed my mom, but the thought was too painful to even wrap my brain around. “So what changed your mind about your powers?”

Dad sighed and gave a small sad smile. “It’s a long story. Anyway, the point is that I eventually learned how to control my powers to a very precise degree. For example—”

He lifted one long-fingered hand and pointed at the tiniest mirror in the room, a square of silver glass about three inches high that I hadn’t even noticed. “Break,” he said in a low voice. I cringed, but only a hairline crack ran across the surface of the mirror.

“Okay,” I said slowly, “that was very unexplodey. So how did you do it?”

Dad dropped his hand and turned back to me. “A combination of things. Concentration, deep breaths…”

“Demon yoga?” I suggested, and he chuckled.

“Something like that. The best way I can explain it is to say that you and I—Daisy and Nick, Alice, my mother—we have powers of gods, but the bodies, souls, and minds of humans. Both parts of ourselves have to work together, or the magic is too much.”

“And then we go crazy. Like Alice.”

He nodded. “More or less. Now, try to break the mirror again, but this time, focus more on the human side of yourself than the demon part.”

“Um…how exactly do I do that?”

Dad pulled off his glasses and began cleaning them with a handkerchief from his front pocket. “There are several ways. You can think of a memory from before you came into your powers. Or focus on a time when you felt particularly strong human emotions: jealousy, fear, love…”

“What do you think about?”

Settling his glasses back on his nose, he replied, “Your mother.”

“Oh.” Well, if it worked for him, maybe it would work for me. I picked out another mirror, this one medium-sized and in a frame made up of little gilt cherubs. I felt my power rushing up from my feet, but instead of flinging it out like I usually do, I took a deep breath and pictured my mom’s face. It was a memory from a year ago, just before everything went so wrong for us in Vermont. We were picking out my prom dress, and Mom was smiling, her green eyes bright.

Almost immediately, my heartbeat slowed, and I felt the magic move up more gradually. When it finally reached my fingertips, I focused on the mirror, keeping Mom’s face in my mind. “Break.”

The mirror and the ones on either side of it shattered, little slivers of glass raining to the dusty floor. But still, it was only three of them. And there had been a distinct lack of explosions. “Holy crap!” I breathed. A goofy smile spread across my face, and I realized it was the first time I’d felt magic drunk in months.

“Much better,” Dad said, waving his hand. In a few seconds, the mirrors were repaired. “Of course, the more you practice, the better you’ll get. And the better you are at controlling your powers, the less probable it is you will ever hurt anyone.”

Now the euphoric feeling gave way to a nervous, fluttering feeling. “So you’re saying that if I mastered this magical tai chi thing, I could keep from being like…like Alice?”

“I’m saying it greatly reduces the chances, yes. I told you, Sophie. You have many more options than the Removal.”

Because I couldn’t think of anything to say, I just nodded and wiped my suddenly sweaty hands on my thighs. Practicing deep breaths and picturing people I loved seemed a lot better than having magical runes cut into my skin, but it was almost too much to believe that it could be this easy.

“Of course, the choice is yours, and you don’t have to decide anything today,” Dad said. “But still, just…tell me you’ll consider it.”

“Yeah,” I replied, but the word came out kind of squeaky. I cleared my throat. “Yeah,” I said again. “Of course I will.”

I expected Dad to do his usual brisk thing and say something like, “Excellent. I will anxiously await your pronouncement on this significant matter.” Instead, he just looked relieved and said, “Good.”

Thinking we were done, I moved toward the door, but Dad stepped in front of it. “We’re not quite finished yet.”

I blinked at him, surprised. “I could try to break some more mirrors if you really want me to, Dad, but I’m kind of wiped out. Between last night and today, there’s been an awful lot of magic flyin’ around for me, and—”

He shook his head. “No, not that. We have one more matter to discuss.”

I didn’t need my new psychic senses to tell me something bad was coming. “What?”

Dad took a deep breath and folded his arms. “I want you to tell me about Archer Cross.”