"I'm guessing that's the one in the locked cabinet?"
"Yes. According to Council records, she wanted to perform the ritual on herself, but the head of the Council refused to al ow that. He thought it would be safer to attempt it on a regular human. Luckily for Virginia, there were hundreds of girls staying at the Abbey."
I shivered. "And she picked Alice."
"She did."
"Why? I mean, you said there were hundreds of girls here. Did she draw Alice's name out of a hat or something?"
"I honestly don't know, Sophie. I've always believed the fact that Alice was pregnant at the time had something to do with it. Perhaps she and Henry...Wel , in any case, Virginia never told anyone, and after the ritual, Alice was in no position to say anything."
I rubbed my nose with the back of my hand and said, "In stories like this, there's usual y a magical diary hidden in a trunk that gives you al the answers. Any chance of that happening here?"
"I'm afraid not. Anyway, I think you know the rest of the story. Virginia performed the ritual, but something went wrong. We'l never real y know what happened that night, but the end result was that Virginia and her brother were both dead, and Alice had become a demon."
"A monster,"I muttered, thinking of those silver claws sliding into Elodie's neck. I plopped down on the lawn and drew my knees up to my chin. Dad sighed and, after a long moment, sat next to me.
"You'l get grass stains on your suit."
"I have other suits. You know, that's not the first time I've heard you use that word to refer to us. May I ask why?"
I raised both eyebrows. "Seriously? You have to ask why demon means monster to me?"
"When you thought you were just a witch, did you use the word 'monster'to describe yourself?"
"Of course not."
"And yet witches, faeries, shapeshifters, demons...we al have the same origins."
"What do you mean?"
Dad plucked a piece of grass and began shredding it absentmindedly. "We al started out as angels."
"I know that regular Prodigium did,"I said. "They're descended from the angels who didn't pick a side in the war between God and Lucifer."
Dad met my eyes. "Wel , demons are the angels who did pick a side. The wrong one, as it turned out."
"So what? Just because they used to be angels doesn't make them-us-the good guys."
"No, but it does make us a little more complex than monsters. For example, you weren't particularly disturbed to find out you were a dark witch, and their powers are remarkably similar to ours. In many ways, a demon is nothing more than a very strong dark witch."
"Or Hogaroth the Slimy,"I muttered.
"What?"
"I just mean...when Virginia cal ed that demon to possess Alice, did that mean Alice-like, actual, real Alice, her soul or whatever-was gone, and it was just some monster wandering around in her body?"
Dad gave a startled laugh. "Oh, God, no. Is that what you've thought this whole time?"
I crossed my arms over my chest. "Wel , how was I supposed to know? It's not like anyone was in a big hurry to answer al my burning, demony questions."
He stopped laughing and actual y looked a little sheepish. "You're right. I'm sorry. No, when a demon is cal ed forth, it's real y nothing more than a large dark...force, basical y. That's what being exiled to hel does to an angel. It strips it of everything but its power. They don't have names, or personalities, or even bodies. They're nothing but pure, undiluted magic."
"Wow."
"Possession isn't even real y the right word for what happens,"Dad said. "It's more like a meshing. The demon alters everything about that person, even their blood, their DNA. That's why it can be passed down through families. That's why if we're ever grievously injured we don't die. Our powers heal us."He nodded at my scarred hand. "Unless, of course, someone uses demonglass on us. But for al that, a demon who was changed during a possession ritual is stil essential y the person they always were."
"Only now they have the darkest, most powerful magic in the world literal y flowing through their veins,"I added.
"Exactly."Dad smiled proudly, and I suddenly remembered Alice standing in the clearing, exclaiming, "You did it!"right before I cut off her head.
My throat was tight when I said, "So if Alice was stil Alice, why did she have claws and start drinking blood?"
Dad shrugged and held up his right hand. Long silver claws sprang up in place of his manicured fingernails, and then disappeared just as quickly.
"Any witch or warlock could do that if they wanted to. Try it yourself."
I looked down at my ragged nails, stil splotched with Iced Strawberry polish from the last time Jenna had tried to give me a manicure. "No thanks."
"As for the...other part, blood magic is a very strong, very ancient practice. Again, many witches and warlocks have used it in the past. Your friend Jenna certainly benefits from it. In fact, that's how vampires were created. Nearly a thousand years ago, a coven of witches were performing a very complicated blood ritual, and-"
"Alice kil ed people,"I said, my voice breaking on the last word.
"Yes, she did,"Dad said calmly. "That much dark magic can drive a person insane. That's what happened to Alice. It doesn't mean it wil happen to you."
He looked at me, his expression intense. "Sophie, I understand your hesitation to embrace your heritage, but it's vital that you stop thinking of demons as monsters."He reached out and covered my hand with his. "That you stop thinking of yourself as a monster."
Struggling to keep my voice level, I said, "Look, I get that you're big into this whole Up With Demons thing, but I watched one kil a friend. And Mrs.
Casnoff told me that your mom demoned out and kil ed your dad. So don't stand there and expect me to believe that being a demon is al sunshine and kittens."
"It's not,"Dad said. "But if you're wil ing to listen to me, and to learn more about what it means to be a demon, you'd understand that the Removal is not your only option. There are ways of...wel , fine-tuning your powers. Of lessening the chances of hurting someone."
"'Lessening'?"I repeated. "But not removing, right?"
Dad shook his head. "I'm going about this al the wrong way,"he said, sounding frustrated. "I just want you to understand that...Sophie, have you given any thought to what it wil be like once you've gone through the Removal? Provided you survive it, of course."
I had. It sounds dumb, but one of the first things I'd thought of was that I'd look like the Vandy: covered in swirling purple markings, even on my face.
It wouldn't be an easy thing to explain away in the human world, but I was hoping "crazy spring break"might work.
When I didn't answer Dad right away, he said, "I'm not sure you understand what real y happens in that ritual. It's not just that you won't be able to do magic anymore. You wil be destroying a vital part of yourself. The Removal gets into your blood. It rips out something that's as much a part of you as the color of your eyes. You were meant to be a demon, Sophie, and your body and soul wil fight to keep you that way. Possibly to the death."
There's nothing you can say to a speech like that. So I just stared at him until he final y sighed and said, "You're tired, and this was a great deal to tel you on your first night. I can understand if this is overwhelming."
"It's not that,"I said, but he just kept on talking, something I was beginning to learn was an annoying habit of his.
"Hopeful y, after a good night's sleep, you'l be more receptive to what I have to tel you."He glanced at his watch. "Now, if you'l excuse me, I was supposed to meet with Lara fifteen minutes ago. I trust you can find your way back to the house."
"It's right in front of me, so yeah,"I muttered, but Dad was already walking down the hil .
I sat in the gathering darkness for a long time, watching Thorne Abbey, trying to absorb everything Dad had just told me. I'd been sitting there for about ten minutes before it occurred to me that I hadn't asked him anything about the demon kids and what they were doing here. Or how they even existed. Final y, I got up, dusted off my jeans, and headed back toward the house.
As I walked, I thought about what Dad had said. I'd only had my powers for a few years, but they were a part of me. For the first time, I admitted to myself that the thought of slashing the magic right out of myself-and maybe dying in the process-scared the heck out of me.
But I couldn't go through life as a ticking time bomb either, and no matter what Dad said about "fine-tuning"my magic, as long as I had powers, exploding would always be a very real possibility. Somehow, my whole existence had become a real y complicated word problem.
I'd always sucked at those.
There was no sign of Dad when I got back to Thorne, and I trudged up to my room. Earlier, I'd been starving, but the conversation with Dad had kil ed my appetite. Despite my long nap, al I wanted to do was take a hot bath and crawl into bed.
But when I got to my room, I saw that my bed had already been made up. Had it been servants, or did they now have some sort of tidiness spel ?
Then I saw the photograph propped on the pil ow.
I wondered briefly if Dad had put the photo there himself as I reached down and picked it up. My hands trembled a little. It was a black-and-white shot of about fifty girls in the front garden of Thorne. Half of them were standing, while the other half sat on the ground, their skirts pul ed demurely around their legs. Alice was one of the seated girls.
I studied her face for a long time. Somehow, it had been easier to think of Alice as real y possessed, a soul ess creature using my great-grandmother's body as a tool.
It was harder to think of Alice's soul stil being in her body when I sliced through her neck with that shard of demonglass.
I traced her features. What had she been thinking the day this photograph was taken? Had she thought Thorne Abbey was overwhelming, too?
For al I knew, she'd stood in this very room more than sixty years ago. The thought sent a shiver down my spine. I wanted to ask her if she'd had any sense of the horrible thing that was about to happen to her, if she had wandered the hal s of Thorne feeling the same sick feeling of dread that coiled inside me.
But Alice, frozen in 1939, smiling and human, didn't have any answers, and there was nothing in her face to suggest that she'd had any hint of what the future would hold for her.
For me.
Dad wasn't around the next morning. I woke up early and took a marathon shower. Trust me: if you'd spent the last nine months sharing a bathroom with al manner of supernatural creatures, you'd be pretty psyched about a private shower too. Sometime the evening before, al of my bags had been unpacked, and my clothes were neatly folded in the painted dresser. Remembering how nicely everyone at Thorne had been dressed yesterday, I briefly considered digging out the one dress I'd brought. In the end, I settled on another pair of jeans and a cranberry-colored T-shirt, although I did wear a nice pair of sandals instead of my ratty tennis shoes.
I stopped by Jenna's room before heading downstairs, but she wasn't there. Cal's door was closed, and I thought about knocking on it before reminding myself that it was kind of early, and he was probably asleep. For just a second, the image of a sleepy, shirtless Cal opening his bedroom door popped into my head, and my face flushed as red as my T-shirt.
