Ashtaroth continued. “How about it, chicky? You want me bad enough?”
I thought about the Dybbuk. We were supposed to be finding out the reason they were here. So far, though, other than Allison and Ms. Halle, I hadn’t seen any more possessions. The thought that my dad could be under one now kept nagging at me. My head kept telling my heart that it was a coping mechanism to explain his shitty behavior.
Thom said that it was important.
“Sure,” I said, reaching for his outstretched hand and giving it a solid shake. There was a sizzle followed by a jolt of pain and then the appearance of Ashtaroth’s sigil, linking itself to Ambriel’s. The blood in my face began to boil. I was seeing every shade of red.
“Can’t anyone give fair warning before slapping me with their signature?”
“A small price to pay to be a sorceress.” Ashtaroth’s face gleamed. “You should be honored that I am forever plastered onto your skin.”
I scowled and spoke to Thom through clenched teeth. “What are we going to ask him?”
He wiped the edges of his mouth with his hand and said, “Give me a minute. I need to phrase it just right.”
The pentagram on my forearm was noticeably different from the other sigil. Instead of black lines and shaded areas, Ashtaroth’s sigil was a bright orange red, the color of flames.
I’m going to be stuck in long sleeves for the rest of my life. I wonder if laser treatment can get these off. Hmm.
“Okay. Why are the Dybbuk here in Harrisport?” Thom paced his words.
“I’m disappointed. Someone like you should know that answer by now. To tie up loose ends. The soul needs to resolve any past sins in order to move ahead.”
“That’s not what I am referring to. Why are these Dybbuk specifically in Harrisport? There are more than usual.”
I watched in silence as the two verbally jousted. Ashtaroth looked as though he was debating whether to answer.
“They are here fulfilling their end of a bargain with a certain someone whom I am not at liberty to mention. Word is something big is gonna go down here. They want in on the deal. Don’t want to go through the regular steps to get back to the source. They’ve been promised something better.”
“But it’s the way things have worked for eons,” Thom exclaimed. “Why now?”
“Sorry folks. Show’s over.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“One question per turn.”
“You never said that.”
“I didn’t have to. It’s your job to negotiate terms, chicky.”
Before I could let loose my emotional tirade, Ashtaroth was gone with a poof, leaving in his wake the scrap of parchment that had once held his sigil but had now been replaced with three dreaded letters: I.O.U.
C HAPTER E LEVEN
“What the hell was that?” My shrill voice had Thom drawing back in obvious discomfort.
“I’d appreciate it if you watched your tone.” He stood up from his seat and headed towards the closet, already halfway towards bailing on me.
“No. I don’t think so.” I jumped from my seat and cornered him. From this close, I could see the fear in his eyes. “Just tell me. I just need to know the truth. Is this something we can fix?”
“I think we’re making a mistake. Well, I made the mistake. of involving you,” he said as he pulled on his jacket and adjusted the strap of his bag to lie across his chest.
“You didn’t. We’re not. I can do this.” The rejection stung.
“There is more going on than I first thought. It was wrong of me to force you into this.”
“We’ll figure it out. Please don’t take this away from me. It’s the only thing I have left that means anything.” I couldn’t let him go. This is what I had to look forward to. A time where I could forget about all the things that were going wrong because I knew somewhere in the recesses of my mind that I was meant for this. Somehow, when I worked on a sigil, I intuited its shape, I could picture what it
I thought about the Dybbuk. We were supposed to be finding out the reason they were here. So far, though, other than Allison and Ms. Halle, I hadn’t seen any more possessions. The thought that my dad could be under one now kept nagging at me. My head kept telling my heart that it was a coping mechanism to explain his shitty behavior.
Thom said that it was important.
“Sure,” I said, reaching for his outstretched hand and giving it a solid shake. There was a sizzle followed by a jolt of pain and then the appearance of Ashtaroth’s sigil, linking itself to Ambriel’s. The blood in my face began to boil. I was seeing every shade of red.
“Can’t anyone give fair warning before slapping me with their signature?”
“A small price to pay to be a sorceress.” Ashtaroth’s face gleamed. “You should be honored that I am forever plastered onto your skin.”
I scowled and spoke to Thom through clenched teeth. “What are we going to ask him?”
He wiped the edges of his mouth with his hand and said, “Give me a minute. I need to phrase it just right.”
The pentagram on my forearm was noticeably different from the other sigil. Instead of black lines and shaded areas, Ashtaroth’s sigil was a bright orange red, the color of flames.
I’m going to be stuck in long sleeves for the rest of my life. I wonder if laser treatment can get these off. Hmm.
“Okay. Why are the Dybbuk here in Harrisport?” Thom paced his words.
“I’m disappointed. Someone like you should know that answer by now. To tie up loose ends. The soul needs to resolve any past sins in order to move ahead.”
“That’s not what I am referring to. Why are these Dybbuk specifically in Harrisport? There are more than usual.”
I watched in silence as the two verbally jousted. Ashtaroth looked as though he was debating whether to answer.
“They are here fulfilling their end of a bargain with a certain someone whom I am not at liberty to mention. Word is something big is gonna go down here. They want in on the deal. Don’t want to go through the regular steps to get back to the source. They’ve been promised something better.”
“But it’s the way things have worked for eons,” Thom exclaimed. “Why now?”
“Sorry folks. Show’s over.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“One question per turn.”
“You never said that.”
“I didn’t have to. It’s your job to negotiate terms, chicky.”
Before I could let loose my emotional tirade, Ashtaroth was gone with a poof, leaving in his wake the scrap of parchment that had once held his sigil but had now been replaced with three dreaded letters: I.O.U.
C HAPTER E LEVEN
“What the hell was that?” My shrill voice had Thom drawing back in obvious discomfort.
“I’d appreciate it if you watched your tone.” He stood up from his seat and headed towards the closet, already halfway towards bailing on me.
“No. I don’t think so.” I jumped from my seat and cornered him. From this close, I could see the fear in his eyes. “Just tell me. I just need to know the truth. Is this something we can fix?”
“I think we’re making a mistake. Well, I made the mistake. of involving you,” he said as he pulled on his jacket and adjusted the strap of his bag to lie across his chest.
“You didn’t. We’re not. I can do this.” The rejection stung.
“There is more going on than I first thought. It was wrong of me to force you into this.”
“We’ll figure it out. Please don’t take this away from me. It’s the only thing I have left that means anything.” I couldn’t let him go. This is what I had to look forward to. A time where I could forget about all the things that were going wrong because I knew somewhere in the recesses of my mind that I was meant for this. Somehow, when I worked on a sigil, I intuited its shape, I could picture what it
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