Evil Librarian (23 page)

When I get home, it is all I can do to drag myself up the stairs. My parents are asleep, of course; there’s a note on my door telling me that there are (surprise!) takeout leftovers in the fridge if I haven’t eaten yet. I suppose it’s a good thing that my parents don’t seem at all concerned when I stay out all hours on a school night. Or at least a convenient thing. I crumple up the note and toss it on the floor. I can feel myself moving very slowly as I go into my room and drop my bag. I don’t think very much about anything as I get changed and wash my face and brush my teeth.

And then I go back to my room and close the door and sink slowly down onto the edge of my bed and start to freak out.

I’m going to hell.

I am literally going to hell. Because where else do demons live when they’re at home? It’s either hell or something like it, right? Some other place that’s not here that is filled with demons. A place where they steal young, innocent human people and take them away forever and turn them into something they are not. And I’m going to
go there.
On purpose.

In the moment, earlier, when everything was happening, I didn’t really have that much time to be scared. But now, apparently, the time for being scared has arrived. Because I am absolutely terrified.

I don’t want to do this. Oh, God. I’m sorry, Annie, but I don’t want to do this.

Too late,
my brain reminds me.

I snatch at that idea. Is it? Is it really too late? She didn’t say that this first visit to the demon world was set in stone, exactly. Just the second two, once she had fulfilled her part of the bargain. I mean, what if I just didn’t go? Didn’t let her borrow my resistance? Then she would just be free of her part of the deal, right? Well, and also she would be pissed, and would probably kill us all. But I
could
not go. Maybe.

I should have gotten more clarity on that point.

I make myself back away from this line of thought. It doesn’t matter. I’m not going to back out. I have to do this. For Annie, and Ryan, and everyone else, too.

I lie back on my bed, willing myself to breathe. Deep breaths, in and out.
It’s okay,
I tell myself.
It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.

Probably not, if you really think about it,
my brain says.

Shut up!
I shout at my brain. (I really hate my brain sometimes.)
It will be okay. It has to be okay.

I get under the covers and close my eyes and try to make myself go to sleep. I’m so tired that it should be easy, but behind my eyelids I can see the burning red flames of my hazy imagined idea of the demon world. I wonder if it will hurt, going there. If it will be hot, if I will be on fire, if everything will be on fire. I didn’t ask her if it will hurt. I didn’t ask her what it will be like.

Because it doesn’t matter. I have to go. I have to save Annie.

I’m not sure if that’s my brain talking or some other part of me, but it makes me realize that under the fear, I am really, really mad.
Why? Why does it have to be me? I just want to build the set for the show and be secretly in love with Ryan and not have to fight demons or save people or deal with any of this!

But it doesn’t matter what I want, and I know it.

And it does have to be me. Because there’s no one else who can give the demoness what she wants and make her help us.

I lie there, and try to breathe, and try not to think. I lie there and will myself to fall into oblivion, to get what few hours I can of not being here and present and awake and scared.

Eventually, I do fall asleep. I know this because at some point the nightmares begin. Nightmares involving Mr. Gabriel and Annie sucking out Ryan’s soul together while I watch and he screams and Aaron and the demoness laugh and laugh and laugh. Nightmares of formless demon shapes reaching for me from every direction, trying to rip me apart into a stringy mess of blood and bones and tatters of dull gray brain tissue. Nightmares of pain and fear and hopeless struggle and knowing that I cannot win, and that all of it will be for nothing in the end. And permeating everything, the glowing red pulsing fires of hell, waiting to consume us all.

I gasp awake, sitting up in bed.

I know what to do for Sweeney’s chair.

The next day at school, they announce that we have a new principal.

They have preempted our usual first-period classes for a special assembly and herded us all into the auditorium. I sit with Diane and Leticia, who have saved me a seat. Annie is nowhere to be seen. Ryan is toward the back with his usual crew.

I am barely functioning. I think I got about an hour of tormented sleep before I woke up with the chair idea, and then I was at my desk until I had to leave for school, making notes and sketches and plans. I was tired then, and I am even more tired now. My five-second cold shower only revived me temporarily, and my continued efforts at remaining conscious are not going very well so far. Diane keeps poking me awake.

Assistant Principal Jensen finally walks up to the podium and waits for us to quiet down. He thanks us all for our attention and our strength and courage in getting through what has been and continues to be such a difficult time, and he thanks Assistant Principal Levine for serving as acting principal for the past few days, and then he introduces us to Principal Morse’s replacement.

The new guy vaults up onto the stage to say hello. His name is Kingston. He looks like an off-duty army general but without the crew cut. Tall and maybe somewhere in his late forties or early fifties and super fit looking and kind of handsome in an older-man kind of way. He grips the podium with both hands and gives a short little speech with just the right blend of
sorry we have to meet under these circumstances
and
we are going to get through this together
and
this is clearly the best student body ever
and
hey, isn’t it exciting to be young and in high school?

I don’t like him. But that’s probably just because of what happened to lead to him being here. Not his fault.

But I still don’t like him.

For no real reason I turn around to look at Ryan and he’s looking back at me across the auditorium. He doesn’t like the new guy, either, I can tell.

We go through the motions of the day. Everything feels even less real than usual to me, thanks to my lack of sleep. I show up in classrooms and force my eyes to stay open and my head to stay upright. English, AP Physics, lunch, math, health, history. I can barely remember which class I’m in when. I write things down; I pretend to pay attention; I think about Annie and Ryan and Aaron and his demoness ladyfriend and above all Mr. Gabriel and what he will do if he finds out we are trying again to stop him. I try to seem cowed and beaten and exhausted, none of which is super hard right now. In the back of my mind, I gently cradle my plans for the Sweeney chair that I am going to start working on at rehearsal today. I exchange texts with Ryan between classes to confirm that we are both still alive.

When the bell finally rings at the end of history, I am relieved beyond all sense. I can sleep in study hall and then I can go to rehearsal and see Ryan and think about the play and the chair and not about demons or best friends who have gone crazy or anything else besides murderous barbers and pie shop proprietors and dead people being cooked into meat pies. Fun things. Just for a little while.

I turn the corner, heading toward study hall. Leticia and Diane had better
let
me sleep, or I will have to hurt them. I am thinking of possible ways I will need to reason with them when I suddenly realize that someone is standing in front of me.

I stop walking just in time to avoid a collision. Looking up, I see that the someone is our new principal.

“Well, hello!” he says in just the kind of booming voice you would imagine.

I try to muster up some kind of energy for a reply, but before I can even try to say hello back, he grabs my hand to give me an enthusiastic handshake.

The electric-shock feeling hits me as soon as his fingers close around mine.

Suddenly, I am very awake.

“Oh,
crap,
” I say, staring up at him. His eyes, just for a second, flash with twiny black flames.

Principal Kingston raises his eyebrows at me. He does not release my hand.

“Well,” he says. “That explains a few things.”

He starts to say something else, then stiffens, glancing behind me. I feel a crawly tingly awfulness at the base of my spine, and sure as anything I know that what Principal Kingston is looking at is Mr. Gabriel.

There is a moment of silence.

I try to pull my hand free from Principal Kingston’s grasp, but he won’t let go. I twist around to look over my shoulder at Mr. Gabriel.

He smiles.

“I see you’ve met my friend Cynthia,” he says. “She’s a pain in the ass. Super-roach, you know.” Except he doesn’t say
super-roach,
he says that incomprehensible nonword with the pointy jagged syllables that hurt my ears, but I know what he means.

I’m still trying to pull my hand free from Principal Kingston’s.

“I believe this territory is clearly marked,” Mr. Gabriel goes on, talking over me to the other man. “Seriously, George, not cool.”

“Your wards were weak,” Kingston says, shrugging. “Looks like you’re spreading yourself a little thin, John. Not focusing your energy in the best places, perhaps.”

Mr. Gabriel looks at me then, and for a second his pleasant facade slips into a glare of pure fury. I realize in that moment that taking out Signor De Luca and being trapped, even temporarily, by our containment circle must have cost the librarian more than he’d let on.

“I’ve got it under control,” he says, returning his gaze to the new principal. “Get lost.”

“Well,
that’s
not going to happen,” Principal Kingston says. “I like it here. Have you seen my office? It’s huge!”

I take my other hand and try to pry Principal Kingston’s fingers loose. He doesn’t even glance at me.

“So . . . how do you want to do this?” Mr. Gabriel’s voice is closer and I pull a little more frantically at the principal’s hand.

“Well, I’ll be honest, John. I was thinking of just taking you out, taking this place over, setting up shop here until the battle.”

“Trying.”

Principal Kingston rolls his eyes a little. “Sure, right. Trying. But look, John. Maybe it doesn’t have to be that way. Neither of us really needs to waste energy on that kind of thing, right?”

I take my foot and place it squarely against the principal’s thigh for leverage as I continue my efforts to free my hand.

Mr. Gabriel sounds surprised. “Alliance?”

“Why not? Truce, at least. Maybe pool our resources. Then we can divvy up the school however makes the most sense, focus on getting ready for the big event.”

There’s a moment while the librarian apparently thinks this over. “Well, I’ll admit, George, I would prefer not to deal with more distractions right now. I’ve got a lot on my plate.”

“So, deal?”

“With terms.”

“Of course,” Principal Kingston agrees.

“I’ve selected a consort. She’s off-limits, obviously.”

“Obviously.”

“And they’re doing
Sweeney Todd
for the fall musical.”

“Oh, yeah?” Principal Kingston is visibly arrested by this news. “Well, so the cast and crew is off-limits then, too, right? When’s the show go up?”

“End of next week, actually. Perfect timing. I can get you the performance times.”

“I adore
Sweeney Todd.
Have you seen any of the rehearsals? Do they have a good cast?”

“Excellent cast. Sweeney is amazing.”

Principal Kingston shakes his head in happy disbelief. “I’m so excited.”

I have stopped trying to extricate myself. I’m just standing there at this point, listening and staring back and forth between them.

Thinking of Ryan seems to remind Mr. Gabriel of my presence. He looks at me again, his smile fading.

I turn to Principal Kingston. “Okay, so, I’ll just be going,” I say.

Now they’re both looking at me.

“Let me go,” I tell Kingston very seriously.

His hand grips mine a little tighter.

“I’ll scream,” I say. And then I realize I shouldn’t
tell
them; I should just start screaming. I inhale, but before I can make a sound, Principal Kingston yanks me forward and turns me around and wraps an arm around me, his hand clamping firmly over my mouth.

“What should we do with this one?” he asks Mr. Gabriel. “Together, we might be able to . . .”

Mr. Gabriel looks thoughtful. He takes a step forward.

“I’m tech director!” I shout into Kingston’s hand, or try to. It comes out sounding pretty much like
MM MMm MMmm MMM!

They both seem to understand me, however. Mr. Gabriel makes a pained face. “The set’s mostly done,” he says. “She’s probably replaceable.”

I glare at him, ready to scream very unpleasant things at him through Principal Kingston’s fingers, but then suddenly there are voices approaching. Kingston flings me away, and he and Mr. Gabriel turn as one toward the other end of the hall. They are all benign, friendly smiles and nonthreatening body language. The voices materialize into Mrs. Foster and Miss Daniels while I slam into the far wall, trying to catch my breath.

“Good afternoon, ladies!” Kingston booms. The ladies titter, even Mrs. Foster, who has to be about eighty years old.

I don’t wait to see what happens next. I run.

I spend the rest of eighth period in the auditorium. Mr. Henry is there, but he just gives me a little salute and goes back to grading papers. He teaches freshman English when he is not teaching drama and directing awesome musicals.

I sit in my usual seat.

Our new principal is a demon.

And now he’s, like, partnering up with Mr. Gabriel.

So instead of one demon, we have two.

I just want to make sure I’m getting it all straight in my head.

Shit.

I pretty much just sit there running those same few sentences through my head for the next half hour or so. Eventually the bell rings, and Mr. Henry puts his papers away and takes out his
Sweeney
notes. I watch kids start trickling into the auditorium.