DEVILS INC.

Chapter Five

My seven o'clock alarm sounds like a death toll.

I groan, face in my pillow, then I push myself into a vaguely upright position and turn it off. I feel like crap. My mouth is dry as a bone, and my head throbs. I didn't think I drank that much last night, but the threat of a hangover lingers behind my blurred vision.

To make things worse, there's a message from Mom on my screen. She wants to know if I managed to get the application for my internship sent off on time, and if I've thought any more about heading back to New York next month. They like to visit Jonathon's grave on the anniversary of his death, then have a memorial back at their place for friends and family. They want me to come. I know I should, but I like to remember him in my own way, lighting a candle and watching some of his favorite movies rather than being so public with my emotions.

I quickly reply that I did, and I'll think about it. Then I stumble out of bed to the shared bathrooms, toothbrush in hand. The stuffy air smells like shampoo, and I can hear someone peeing in one of the four stalls behind me. It's only when I see the crack in the mirror above the sink that the weird events of yesterday come back to me.

Omens, Demons, Angels. . . What?

"That's seven years' bad luck, you know?" says Lisa over the sound of the toilet flush. She bounds over to wash her hands before smoothing her long black hair.

"Huh?" I say, although it comes out garbled because of the toothpaste.

"Breaking a mirror's a bad omen," she replies.

"Oh, right. Yeah. So I've heard."

"Speaking of, you hear the news this morning? Seven-car pileup on the freeway into LA. Six people died, and two more are in critical condition."

She goes on about the wreck as she applies a creamy layer of foundation, but I tune her out, making the odd grunting noise where appropriate. Lisa's nice and all, but she's one of those irritatingly chirpy morning people. Josie's like that too. I need at least a cup of coffee before I can even string a sentence together.

I rub the smudged eyeliner from beneath my eyes, splash my face, then tell Lisa I'll catch her later. A thought occurs to me as I reach the door.

"Hey, did you see a guy hanging around my room last night? Red hair, good-looking in a clean-cut way, kind of socially awkward?"

She grins. "No. Why? Got yourself a new guy?"

"No, nothing like that. Never mind."

There's no way in hell he came in through the window, so someone must have seen him. Shaking my head, I go get changed in my room, pulling on the same jeans as yesterday and a black tank top. I grab my business law textbook and laptop, then head out, checking my emails on my cell as I walk down the stairs. I stop dead on the second-floor landing, my stomach plummeting.

One of the emails is from Jones and Smith. It's about the internship.

And it's a rejection.

Shit.

How can they even have checked my application yet?

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

I lean back against the wall, dread weighing down my chest. I needed this. An internship is a requirement for getting through this program. How the hell am I supposed to pass this year?

My parents are going to kill me.

Heart beating fast, I refresh the page again as if another email is just waiting to pop up and tell me it was a mistake.