Page 4 of Drawn to the Demon Duke
I’ll have to write a thank-you note to Mr. Woodrow for his help. For now, I fold up his letter, tucking it into my kitchen drawer as I go to retrieve the salt and the chalk, then get to work on prepping the space for the manifestation.
Sorry, aerobics class. I’m taking tonight off.
I’m a bit of a perfectionist.It takes me three tries with the chalk and the salt before I’m satisfied that it matches the design in Mr. Woodrow’s letter. Just in case, I want to protect myself because getting caught up with the occult after Mindy told me not to… not cool, dude. Not cool at all.
I don’t doubt that it’ll work. Ithasto. I put too much time, too much hope, too much effort into theGrimoire du Sombra, and if I get a true love out of it, it’ll all be worth it. And if my translation was way off due to those unfamiliar words… at least I have the protective circle to keep me safe.
Once I was done, I thought about grabbing my notebook from my bedroom. In the end, I decided not to. The spell wasn’t one hundred percent translated, after all, and if it was written in this language, I’m pretty sure I’m supposed to read it the same way.
So I do. I read them exactly as they’re printed on the page, and I haven’t even finished the final syllable when… Yes! Yes! It’s happening.
What’s happening? I… I don’t know. It starts as a white orb that flashes into existence in the center of the protective circle drawn on my wooden floor. It’s about the size of a baseball, growing larger and larger, brighter and brighter, until I’m peering at it through slits in my fingers once it’s as big as a beach ball.
My room is suddenly inexplicably hot. Humid, too. Sweat beads up along my brow, my ponytail listing as I gasp out a breath. I can’t even tell if I’m struggling to breathe at the sudden temperature change—or because the searingly white light of the growing orbexplodes.
I’m blinded in an instant. Blinking doesn’t even help. All I see is the stunning, shocking brightness, lids closed or not. I rub my eyes, stumbling backward, and when I finally think that I can see again, I open them just enough to see that the orb it… it’sgone.
More amazingly, there’s a… a…somethingstanding in the circle, right where the orb was moments ago.
My mouth falls open. One part of me wants to scream. The other part wants to cheer.
Because I did it. I manifested a…
Well, I’m not too surewhatI manifested besidesmassiveandmonster. Seriously. He—and something about the monster just screams ‘he’—is built like a San Francisco 49er. He’s huge. Broad shoulders, sculpted muscles, and probably a good two feet taller than me, he’s not just huge. He’s agiant.
He’s also as white as the orb that brought him to my house. And not just white like humans are white. He has white hair, with black horns growing out from the top of his head. White tusks jutting up from surprisingly lush lips. White, colorless skin, and stark black leather-like pants that—thankfully, or maybe not so thankfully—cover him from the waist down. In fact, the only spot of color aside from black and white on this big guy are his eyes.
They’re blue.
A bright, vividglowingblue.
He snarls something at me in a language I don’t understand—but I catch that same word.Uxor. No doubt in my mind that he’s who I was trying to manifest, but this… demon? Yeah. He totally looks like a demon… this demon with his horns and his tusks and his massive bulk is supposed to be my true love?
Then again, maybe not.
Because while I stare at him, still not sure if I should be afraid or welcoming him to Earth, he gives his head a royal shake. Turning on his heel, clicking the claws I just noticed, he takes a step away from me and now he’s gone.
Gone.
I blink. Like the momentary spell just broke, reality slinks back in, and I’m left with a mess on my floor, my heart pounding, my brain trying to process what in the hell just happened.
I can’t. Simple as that. I spent twelve years working toward the moment I could cast one of the old book’s spells, and when I did? The demon I summoned took one look at me and left.
Bogus.
Ugh.
Twelve years down the drain in an instant. It didn’t matter that I was able to translate thirty-one different spells to some degree. None of them seemed promising. I mean, a spell to compel something called an ungez? Or one to conjure a shadow-breaker? That seemed like it would create a blinding orb, similar to what brought that giant monster into my house, but why bother when I could just flick a light switch.
No. It was like I was inspired to keep going until I found the true love spell… and when I finally did, the demon took one look atmeand decided to return to wherever I manifested from.
Ah, well. Maybe I should’ve expected something like that. Besides, I can’t do anything about that, and reading the spell a second time only to get rejected again… no, thank you.
Instead, I look at the salt. At the chalk that didn’t do anything to contain my manifestation like Mr. Woodrow claimed it would.
And I sigh.
You know what? I might as well grab a broom. If I can clean this mess up quickly, I might even be able to make my aerobics class after all.
