Devil's Soul

Chapter 43 (insert cheesy bat pun here)

The MIT library was a happening place. Or that's what it would have seemed like to an outsider, with me and fifteen men taking up an entire table. An outsider wouldn't have had a clue that we all knew each other, as we quietly worked on our own assignments. Actually, the mostly empty tables surrounding us were probably some sort of indication that there was a reason we were all clumped together. But an outsider definitely wouldn't have considered the possibility that the fifteen men were members of a satanic cult and that I was their demon guardian. To be honest, there wasn't really a need for us to all be at the same table, but it was easier for me to keep an eye on everyone this way.

Apparently some sort of female demon was out to get the cult for reasons that Clarence had neglected to share. Not knowing the first thing about demon hunting, Remy and I had decided to take shifts in shadowing the members of the cult, in hopes that the demon would eventually attack them. It was our best bet at finding her.

I gave my periodic sweep of the people around us, quickly flashing my demon eyes to check for demons. Nothing. Obviously. Because who in their right mind would attack a group of students at the library? The problem was that I had no idea if this demon was corrupted, and corrupted demons were definitely not in their right mind. Still, I was feeling frustrated that I had to babysit these guys for who knows how long. I was beginning to really hope some crazy demon would come careening off a bookshelf so I could take care of it and move on with my life, even if I wasn't the most qualified person to be battling a demon.

A gentle touch on my back nearly had me jumping out of my skin. However, instead of abandoning my epidermis, I managed to pull myself together enough to strike the evil demon with my elbow of steel.

The blow was met with a very satisfying "oomf" from my attacker. At least it was satisfying until I realized the culprit was Desmond.

"When did you develop such deadly reflexes?" Desmond grunted in his charming British accent.

My hands flew to my mouth in surprise and embarrassment. "Oh my gosh I'm so sorry!" I spewed in one frantic breath.

He just laughed. "No, I'm glad to see my bird has grown into her wings," he commented, reaching to brush some hair away from my face.

I automatically recoiled, nervous that he would discover the circumscribed inverted pentagram on the back of my neck.

He withdrew his hand before touching me. I thought I saw a look of hurt flash over his face, but then it was gone, and I was sure I'd imagined it.

"Why are you so jumpy today?" he questioned, giving me a stomach-flipping half-smile to show he was teasing.

I shrugged, trying to play it as cool as possible. "I guess all the stuff that's been happening to me is finally starting to get to me."

He studied me for a moment and then let it go. "So is this some kind of study group? Why are you sitting at such a crowded table? " Desmond asked, surveying the men I was with. He undoubtedly noticed we weren't studying the same things as each other.

A couple of the cult members glanced up at Desmond and then quickly resumed their work like they hadn't heard us talking about them.

"Well, um, this table had free food on it earlier, so that's why we all sat down here, and then we just stayed, so yeah," I explained in what I'm sure was a very convincing manner.

"Okay, well do you want to move to a different table?" he asked, raising a challenging eyebrow. He knew I was lying.

"I'm already set up here. Why don't you pull up another chair?" I suggested, scooting my chair over to the left to make room. The guy sitting next to me caught on and shifted his chair to the right to make space as well. The gap we left wasn't quite big enough for a chair to fit all the way in, but Desmond went along with my suggestion anyway. He pulled a chair from another table and swung it around so he could sit on it backward. He crossed his arms over the backrest and tilted his head toward me.