My Pet Demon

My

Pet

Demon

by Valery Keith

Copyright ©2016, Valery Keith. All Rights Reserved.

E-Book ISBN: 978-1-944535-15-5

Paperback ISBN: 978-1-944535-14-8

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Epilogue

Landmarks

Cover

Table of Contents

Chapter One

When I opened my eyes and saw a woman with crimson wings, I just assumed I was still drunk.

It had been a rough night, to put it mildly and as a result, I wasn’t feeling too perky. So I just ignored whatever tricks my tired eyes were playing, rolling back over in bed and closing my eyes as I recalled the night before. I had been determined to avoid thinking about my crappy job and how nothing there was working out the way I had hoped. Being a receptionist in an ad agency wasn’t a death sentence, but some days, it sure felt like one.

So by seven that night, I had been on my way to meet my friend Maria for drinks. To my surprise, the walk had revealed a new antique shop in a building that had been vacant for months now. The light had spilled out from the door and windows, pooling on the sidewalk ahead of me as if in invitation. When I had drawn even with the window and peered around the open for business sign taped there, I had seen the distinctive flicker of candles.

It had been so inviting that I had simply walked in, hearing the jingle of the bells on the door as it closed. The sounds of the street had disappeared as if they had never existed. And there had been the shop proprietor, the cutest little old lady, complete with a shawl.

Oh, hello, dear, she had said, taking my arm as if we were friends. You’ve come to visit. How lovely. Let me show you my favorite piece in the whole store. She glanced at me, her eyes bright. It’s not for sale though, so don’t get your hopes up. It’s to draw in the crowds, so I would love to hear what you think of it.

By then, I had started to think that she might have been celebrating before my arrival, but I hadn’t been able to smell alcohol on her, nor was she sloppy or unsteady in any way. In fact, as she had led me through the dark and crowded rows of furniture, sculpture and artwork, all of it clearly the work of master craftsmen, I had decided that she might be a little senile, which had made me even less likely to pull away. So I had followed her all the way to the back of the store.

There she had stripped the sheet off a very battered, old-fashioned wood and metal arcade game of the type found on an ocean boardwalk a million years ago. But instead of a mechanical fortuneteller or crystal ball, there had been nothing but a small, dark genie’s lamp sitting there in dented isolation.

When I had noticed the woman looking at me as if waiting on my opinion, I had smiled weakly, hoping I looked pleased.

It’s beautiful, isn’t it, dear? she had asked, her eyes bright and her hands clasped in front of her chest. It’s a prognosticator of sorts, but a very special type. One of a kind, you know. There’s not another like it in the world.

It is certainly a sight, I had agreed. Clearly hand made.

I’d even done my best to sound sincerely enthusiastic, despite my personal feelings on the matter. But she had looked at me with something close to a smirk, as if she could read my mind.

It doesn’t look special, I know, she had said, wagging her finger at me in good humor. But those who judge solely by first impressions often miss so much.

I’m sorry, but I don’t know much about antiques, I had offered with a polite wince.

You don’t need to know anything, she had replied, smiling fondly at the game like it was her grandchild. Legend says it can grant wishes. Can you imagine that? Her bright eyes had turned to me, her expression hopeful. Would you like to try it?

I had looked at the game once more, noting the rickety lever. It was obviously meant to engage the mechanics of the game, as there was no other option, not even a slot for a coin. But since I had suspected the next person using this antique might end up owning it when that lever came off in her hand, I had simply given that weak smile once more as I had shaken my head in denial.

It looks very old, I had protested politely. I wouldn’t want to damage it by accident.

What, this, dear? the woman had said, her hand on the lever. Is this what you’re worried about?

When I had nodded, making an apologetic face, she had shaken the lever almost viciously, actually moving the entire base of the game as she had. But surprisingly enough, the lever had not cracked off in her hand as I had feared. So when she had urged me towards it, I had stepped forward and very gently pulled the lever.

There had been the smallest pause, then the lantern had started to glow. As I had watched in shock, some kind of smoke or steam had spilled from its spout in a thick wave of color, as though a rainbow had been boiled down. It had become so bright in that dim corner of the store that I had been squinting within seconds.

Make your wish, she had said even as my ears had fluttered under a sudden, enormous pressure and my eyes had swept closed in reflex.

But given that golden chance of unfettered imagination, I had blanked entirely, my head just suddenly vacant. All I had been able to think was that I just wanted to get some control over my life so that I could be happy.

Suddenly, there had been a brilliant flash behind my eyelids almost like an explosion. When I had opened my eyes to see the lantern, it had been just as dented and dull as it had first appeared. Despite its earlier display, there had been no smoke or light anywhere, not even trapped in its spout.

That’s amazing, I had said in sincere appreciation. I never expected it to work so well, old as it looks. I’m certain your customers will really enjoy seeing it.

Her smile had only grown, even as it had taken on that smirking edge again, as if she had known something I had not.

Some will, some won’t, she had said as she had thrown the sheet back over the game.

Then she had taken my arm, propelling me to the door with a degree of speed, strength and vigor I did not generally associate with women of her advanced years. But as if she were immune to the laws of age and nature, she had hauled me through the store like I was a toddler. When we had reached the door, she had literally pushed me right out onto the sidewalk, a cheerful expression on her face as if she had not been manhandling me with a grip worthy of a pro fighter.

Go on, dear, she had said, her eyes twinkling with good humor at the expression on my face. You’ve made your wish. Now make it come true.

Then she had shut the door in my face as the shop had suddenly gone dark.

So I had continued on my walk to the bar, where my friend Maria had been waiting. At thirty-five to my twenty-six, she was like the big sister I had always wanted, so we had hit it off as soon as we had met more than four years ago. We no longer worked together, but our friendship had easily endured the vagaries of employment and housing.

So I had been thrilled to see her when I had arrived at the bar. Agreeing that our jobs sucked, we had set to drowning our career sorrows. Once that had been done, we had staggered off to our respective apartments, hers much more hectic than mine as it contained a child, two dogs, three cats and a husband, while mine just had a revolving retinue of dying houseplants. I had weaved my way home and up the stairs to let myself in before passing out on my bed.

So of course, when I had cracked my sore eyes to see a woman with huge, blood-red wings standing in front of my window, I had just assumed I was still drunk and shut my eyes. Now, I was just about to drift off again, snuggling down in my warm bed contentedly. I was thinking how vivid my dreams must have been for that to have flashed in front of my eyes after waking when I heard someone clearing her throat.

My eyes shot open again and there she was, large as life, inspecting her nails as if bored, those crimson wings open behind her like some kind of weird backdrop. After a gasp of pure shock at the sight, which caused no reaction from her, I simply huddled there, staring at her. The most insane ideas filled my head for a single moment as I noted the color of those feathered wings, a rush of panicked images in which my painful death by demonic forces was the only constant.

Then reality kicked in as I realized what was going on here.

We were only a month out from Halloween, so this had to be Maria’s way of showing me what costumes she had planned for us this year. Since we traditionally spent the early evening at her place, handing out candy to the building kids before going out for a drink, we always dressed up for fun. While this was a little dramatic for that duty, if she wanted to dress up as sexy devils this year, I certainly didn’t care.

Looking at the woman she had sent to model her idea, I figured this had to be one of her cousins. She was in her late twenties or so and just as pretty as Maria and everyone else in her very good-looking family. But she had an added bit of over-the-top gorgeous that would have made her the prettiest one even in that group, I decided.

Maria had done her face and hair like she was a supermodel, dolled her up in a leather vest and pants and then given her a costume-store set of devil wings to startle me. Since she actually looked pretty amazing, I could see how this woman had agreed to show up here dressed like that. But I could only imagine some of the comments she might have received along the way.

Nice wings, but you forgot the horns and the pitchfork, I croaked. Tell Maria I said that’s fine, we can be sexy devils this year if she wants. I’d let you out, but I’m too hungover. Have a nice day and say hello to your family for me.

Then I shut my eyes and slumped back down in my bed. There was a rustle and I opened my eyes to see the woman had moved next to the bed and was looking down at me. Up close, she was even prettier, her skin flawless and her dark hair shining even with the curtains drawn. I shook my head in misery, wincing at how it felt.

I’m sorry, I said, my voice painfully raspy. I didn’t mean to be rude, so when you tell Maria about this, do me a favor and skip the cranky part. You want some coffee before you leave?

All at once, those wings opened even wider.

They looked so real that I scrambled backwards, banging into the wall and almost falling off the bed. This close, the feathers were a deep, rich red, the color of rubies or blood and very beautiful. This cousin was the daring, stylish one too, obviously, because she had agreed to stroll right over here dressed like that, which just blew my mind.

As I was pondering that, the woman snorted with obvious scorn as she crossed her arms and stood there as if waiting for something.

I hate this part, she said, sounding tired.

What part? I asked, confused.

This part, she replied, bracing her feet as if readying herself for something.

Then those crimson wings moved and a gust of displaced air hit me, further shocking me for how strong they must be to do that without cracking or breaking. That was some serious engineering, I realized.

What the hell are those things made of? I yelped. Spring steel and titanium?

Oh, yeah, sure, that’s it, she said, smirking a little. Idiot. Now get up, Melisandra. We have things to do.

Ugh, don’t call me that, I complained as I pulled the sheet back over my head. "Only strangers call me that and I don’t like strangers. I really love your wings, especially the color, but please, just