Page 8 of Drawn to the Demon Duke
And I was about to. Really. But I’ve been a Bon Jovi fan from before they blew up with their ‘Slippery When Wet’ album, and despite Mindy’s jab earlier, ‘Runaway’ is one of my fave songs. Jon Bon Jovi’s vocals are killer on this track, and a lot of peopledon’t know this, but Richie Sambora wasn’t the lead guitarist for the band then. It was a studio musician who wailed on the guitar, making one rad song.
Is that why, instead of sweeping up the mess, I switch my hold on the broom and pretend it’s a guitar in the privacy of my living room? Maybe, but that doesn’t stop me.
I wish I’d gone to that concert with Mindy. I’d been psyched when she said Dan managed to score four tickets to the gig, especially since I’ve always had a thing for a guy with long, pale hair. Whether that’s David Bowie, his tight-pants-wearing alter ego inLabyrinth, or Sebastian Bach, the lead singer of Skid Row, I jumped at the chance to go see him and Jon Bon Jovi on stage.
I looked forward to going… but then Dan mentioned that the fourth ticket was for Jeff. Jeff McNally is a classically handsome dude in his early thirties, with a perfect smile, short blond hair, and a way-too-preppy-for-me style. When he looks at me, he sees an innocent girl he can mold into a wife and mother, just like Mindy.
Barf.
I want love.Truelove. And maybe it hasn’t happened for me yet. With the spell a big ol’ bust, it might not. I mean, I dragged a… I don’t know what he was, though I’m pretty sure I was right and he was a demon so let’s go with that… I dragged a demon through a portal because a magic spell said we were meant to be, only for him topoof. Disappear.
And, no, I’m not distracting myself with belting out the lyrics to ‘Runaway’ because I want to just forget that, after twelve years, I finally cast a spell in my grimoire only for it to fail spectacularly.
I don’t know why I’m so bummed. I’m used to rejection. My whole life, I’ve been compared to Mindy. My pretty, perfect sister who I love dearly, don’t get me wrong… but she’s who everyone wanted me to be.
Jeff, especially.
Dan’s co-worker has spent the last six months trying everything he could to get me to go out with him, and as soon as I knew Dan invited him to the concert, I asked Lissy if she wanted to grab a bite to eat with me after work that night so I could come up with an excuse to pass my ticket onto someone else.
Settle for Jeff McNally when I grew up on Judy Blume and Francine Pascal, and now that I’m in my late twenties, I still adore recent films likePrincess BrideandLabyrinthand Legend, each one with a male lead who will do anything for the woman they love?
No way.
See, I’m a romantic. If he was my true love, that strange dude with the glowing eyes and white hair—again with the long, pale hair—was a little bit shocking, but I could make it work. There might have to be a little step stool action so that I could reach his face, and as a virgin, I’d hate to think about how big his junk is if he’s proportional… and that’s assuming he’s got a dick under his tight pants because, unlike Jareth, I didn’t notice a bulge there. Then again, I was kind of taken aback by the whole tusks and horns and claw-thing he had going on. He might’ve had a bulge that the dark pants hid. Pity I didn’t get to stare long enough to notice before he got one peek at me, probably thought I looked just as strange to him as he did me, then decided… true love? Nah.
It’s okay. That’s what I tell myself. Having to introduce that giant demon to Mindy as my new boyfriend? While her expression would’ve been worth grabbing my Polaroid camera, maybe it’s for the best that my fantasy adventure started and ended with a spell gone wrong.
For now, I throw myself into enjoying the song through the guitar break near the end, dancing around the room in my sneakers. Once Jon starts up with the last couple of lines, Iswivel, moving the broom, about to finally get down to some cleaning at last.
At least, that was the plan.
The whole two or three minutes I was playing around, pretending I was in the band, I kept the mess behind me. As I turn, I see the salt circle and the pentacle drawn in yellow chalk—andtwodemons.
This time, there’s no denying that that’s what I’m looking at. Definitely demons, and the one in the front is the giant from before. Hovering just behind him, as though it—he—is made of black smoke or spilled ink or, I don’t know,shadowsor something… there’s a shape similar to the white-skinned demon, with matching horns and long, flowing hair that shifts softly though there isn’t any breeze in my house. His eyes are glowing, too, even if they’re purple instead of blue.
Oh, and he has a length of friggin’ chains stretched out between his black hands.
I sure as heck can’t miss those. Gold and shining, they glow nearly as bright as the demons unblinking stares.
The broom falls from my hand, clattering against the hardwood floor.
My heart beating like a drum, louder and faster than the rock music pumping through the headphones.
I snatch them, yanking them off my ears.
“She’s a little runa?—”
The headphones off, I fumble with the wire, shoving it away from me so that I can hear myself think. I shove so hard, the Walkman falls off of my waist. That hits the floor harder than the broom, and I wince. It cost almost two paychecks to buy the cassette player. I hope it didn’t break.
Break, Su? You havetwodemons in your house—and chains, can’t forget the chains I’m gawking at—and you’re worried about your Walkman?
I hold up my hands, warding them off. “Okay. Um. I don’t know what’s going on here, but I didn’t read the spell again. Message received, you know? You don’t want to be my true love, and… and…” Crud. “You have no idea what I’m saying.”
Of course not. I’m not so arrogant as to believe that a demon from another world—if that’s indeed where the portal leads—would know English just because it seems to be that case in every fantasy movie I’ve ever seen. If I had to spend twelve years working toward translating the grimoire… the same grimoire that brought these demons here… then that’s gotta be the language that speak.
In fact, once the big, white demon starts rumbling something to the slightly less huge demon with the chains, I’m pretty sure that he’s speaking in the same language the spellbook is written in.
Like with the grimoire, I understand a word here or there. I’m certainly not fluent. I can read it better than I’ll ever be able to translate it from the source, and that’s with about six different language dictionaries in my hand.
