“Stop!” I finally called out, dropping my sword and resting my hands on my knees, breathing so heavily I was practically panting like a schnauzer on a treadmill.
“I just need a break.” I held up a wobbly hand. “We don’t exactly work out the sword-wielding muscles in gym class.” And not talking to each other was really starting to grate on my nerves.
“It’s getting late anyway.” Logan looked up at the darkening sky. “It’s going to be too dark to get much more practice in.”
“Okay.” I nodded.
“So, how did I do today?” I asked as Logan and I exchanged weapons.
“Honestly, you did good,” he said, giving me an approving thumbs-up. “I wouldn’t want you running off into battle against a demon just yet, but you could hold your own in an attack, at least for a little while.”
“Maybe I’ll practice a little more tonight,” I said, swinging my sword around before sliding it into its invisible case on my back, which Logan explained manifests when the sword is near—further proving that magic is a thousand kinds of awesome.
“No plans? It’s Saturday night,” he said, surprised.
“I thought we covered this yesterday. Bellevue Kelly, remember?” I circled my face with my hands. “No one knows just how sane I really am,” I added dramatically, throwing the back of my hand over my forehead.
I expected him to laugh, but instead Logan had his lips pressed in a hard grimace.
“What? You look like something’s wrong,” I said.
“I was invited to a party tonight,” he began reluctantly.
“Oh. Someone from school?” I did my best to sound casual, picking at a light blue string that hung off the seam of my cuff.
“Yeah. That girl Andie? She invited me to some party on Friday.” The string snapped in my hand.
“Are you going? Her parties are supposed to be fun.” I tried my best to sound detached, as if I didn’t care what Logan did with the social life he suddenly cared about over demon killing. I guess when Andie Ward and her double Ds literally came bouncing by, your priorities shifted.
“Well, that girl demon—” He snapped his fingers as he tried to recall her name.
“Della,” I offered, and he smiled, snapping his fingers again and pointing at me.
“Yes! Della. That’s it! Anyway, I noticed she’s zeroed in on a guy who hangs with that crowd. Lust demons get distracted easily, and it looks like she’s found a diversion. I’m hoping I can kill her tonight.”
“Oh.”
“Anyway, do you want to do this again tomorrow?”
“Okay. Same time?” I asked, and he nodded. We picked up our trash and began walking to the door of the now very dark roof, illuminated only by the midtown skyscrapers just a few blocks away. Once we were back in the stairwell, Logan pulled the door shut, whispering yet another litany of words I couldn’t quite understand. I heard the door lock click into place, and stepped down off the landing to make my way downstairs.
“Have fun tonight,” I said as we arrived at my apartment, hoping I sounded friendly and casual and not at all jealous and ready to claw Andie’s Logan-adoring eyeballs out.
“Paige, is that you?” I heard through the door, and I tried not to groan as I rested my forehead against the frame.
I took a deep breath, exhaling the words, “I should go,” in one big, breathy, irritated sigh.
“Paige?” my dad called again. His voice was the urban equivalent of flicking the porch light on.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Logan mouthed, ducking behind me to head down the stairs as I put the key in the door.
“Yeah, Dad, it’s me,” I called, reminding myself that he’d actually been accommodating this morning. I pushed open the door, expecting to see my parents rushing around to get ready for their date night.
Instead, they were sitting in their go-to date night clothes on the navy couch, my mom’s phone clutched tightly in her freshly manicured hand.
“What’s going on?” I asked suspiciously, throwing my keys back into my purse.
“Sit down, Paige,” my mom said gently, and I perched awkwardly on the end of the blue-striped armchair opposite them, sliding out of my coat and letting it pool around me as I did my best to keep a poker face. Meanwhile, my mind was racing. They saw you on the roof.
“Am I in trouble?” I asked, spinning my bracelet around my wrist. “I’m home pretty early.”
“Oh, no, it’s nothing like that,” Dad said, and I relaxed, sinking back into the armchair.
“Don’t do that to me, you guys!” I cried, slapping my palms against the seat cushion. But my parents didn’t laugh.
“We got an email from the school. It turns out a classmate of yours was killed in the fire at your school yesterday,” my mom said. “Did you know Travis Moore?”
I wasn’t sure how to sound. Horrified? Inconsolable? What was the accurate response to have? The aftermath of Travis’s death sank in—not only had I watched him die, but I was going to have to act like I wasn’t the last person to share his final moments.
“Yes. I mean, I knew who he was, but I only talked to him a few times,” I said, truthfully enough. Just stay behind me...
“Well, on Monday there’s going to be an assembly first thing.” My mom reached across the coffee table, handing me her phone so I could read the email from the school.
“How are you doing with this, Paige?” Dad asked, searching my face for my reaction as I read the email. Suspicious fire...death of a student...fourth floor closed until further notice...
“I’m okay. Like I said, I didn’t really know him but...he seemed like a good guy.” I blinked rapidly, hoping to stave off any tears that threatened to push their way through.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah...” My voice trailed off. “It’s just sad.”
I stood up to give my mom back her phone.
“Honey, we could stay home tonight,” Mom offered, a sympathetic look on her face as she fidgeted with the phone in her hands. “It’s not like we paid for these tickets.”
“We’ll stay,” Dad mouthed to my mom.
“Guys, I promise you, I’m okay,” I insisted. “You haven’t had a date night in years. You’re going to your favorite restaurant. And you got all dressed up.” I fanned my hand to my mom, who sat in her nicest black pants and favorite green silk shirt, her long dark hair pulled back in an elegant chignon. I had inherited the same thick, wavy hair from Mom—I knew what a pain it was to put in an updo. The fact that she spent all this time on a complicated hairstyle was a big sign that she was looking forward to a night out.
“Dad, take Mom out,” I said firmly, crossing my arms. “You’ll gain at least ten husband points for it.”
“Very cute, young lady,” my father said, even though my mom laughed.
“Seriously, you guys. I’m not going to do anything tonight but watch TV.”
But instead, later that night, I found myself in my bedroom, sprawled out on my bed with my old sketchbook and charcoal pencil, drawing random objects as I mulled over the past two days. The glowing oval ring on Ajax’s index finger. Blaise’s glittering eyes. Logan’s hand, covered by the intricate latticework of the sword as he gripped the handle.
I giggled as I remembered how cocky Logan could be about his weapon-handling skills. He was fun to watch—and he was so playful when he was in his element. I’d almost think he was flirting with me, but sometimes, something so dark and sad would overtake his expression, and he’d seem so unsure.
“Maybe he’s picking up on the fact that you like him and it’s making him uncomfortable.”