Taming Demons for Beginners (The Guild Codex: Demonized #1)(8)

Earlier this afternoon, I’d bussed to the store to get ingredients. I’d prepared the cream-cheese filling before dinner so it could harden in the freezer, then made the batter and streusel after the kitchen was free again. Just because I was using baking as an alibi while I searched the house didn’t mean I’d committed minimal effort to the task. The muffins had come out of the oven perfect. The pumpkin aroma still lingered in the hall.

Tears stung my eyes. I hated this house and everyone in it.





I’d searched the storage room in the basement. The garages—both of them. The spare bedrooms. Every closet in the house, except the ones in Uncle Jack’s, Amalia’s, and Travis’s rooms. There was nowhere else to look for evidence of Uncle Jack’s lies or my parents’ belongings.

Well, there was Uncle Jack’s office, but he was always in there and I wasn’t brave enough to risk him catching me. The library, however … If Uncle Jack had somehow gotten his greedy hands on my mother’s grimoire, the library would be an ideal place to store—or hide—a book. Yeah, it was a long shot, but what else could I do?

I squinted at the library door, a foot in front of my nose. I hadn’t been back since the cookie-throwing incident.

At the reminder, I lifted the paper towel I held. Stacked on it were half a dozen dark brown cookies, their crispy surfaces deliciously cracked to reveal the fluffy, cake-like insides mixed with chocolate chunks. White sea salt sprinkled the tops.

When I was stressed, I overindulged in my two favorite hobbies—reading and baking. I bit into a cookie and almost moaned. Perfect. Melty, chocolaty, sweet and rich, and a touch salty. Absolute perfection.

Fortified by sugar, I cracked the library door open and peered inside. Abandoned. Jack and his partner, Claude, usually visited in the afternoons, and it was almost nine o’clock now. I turned the lights up, then waited, staring at the black dome where the cookie-hurling demon hid. Had it saved any crumbling missiles for my inevitable return?

It seemed not, because nothing happened. I scooted the long way around the room to the sofas, set my snack on the end table—the one farthest from the circle—then surveyed the room. I’d already given the shelves one pass, but I hadn’t been looking for grimoires.

Keeping an eye on the inky dome, I started with the section on magic. I pulled out each book, checked it, then slid it back. Slow work, but I didn’t want to miss anything. The always-ravenous bookworm in me filed away each title, compiling a reading list so long it’d take me all year to finish.

Something scuffed against the floor.

With my hand raised to slide The History of Celtic Druidry onto a shelf, I froze, my senses stretching toward the summoning circle four feet behind me. Another soft scuff—like a body shifting position, limbs brushing the floor.

Silence thrummed in my ears. After a minute, my spine relaxed and I released the breath I was holding.

“Hh’ainun.”

I gasped in air to scream and choked on saliva. I started to lurch backward but realized the circle was right behind me, and as I spasmed in place, Celtic Druidry fell out of my hand and the spine hit me in the forehead. The thick tome tumbled to the floor and landed with a loud thwack.

Gasping and hacking, my eyes watering, I spun around and pressed my back against the bookshelf. The black dome loomed too close. I blinked away tears, my nose throbbing and knees trembling. My glasses hung crookedly off one ear.

“Hh’ainun.” The quiet, growling voice rolled out of the black dome. “Will you answer a question?”

Panic squealed incoherently in my ears. My limbs had gone numb and I couldn’t remember how to run for the door. The demon was talking. Talking. To me. It had … asked me to … “Huh?”

The demon didn’t respond. Maybe it didn’t know what “huh” meant.

Gulping, I sidled along the bookshelf until I was a safe distance from the circle, then took a wobbling step toward the door. I needed to leave. Uncle Jack had been very clear—if the demon ever spoke, fetch him or Claude immediately. Whether I reported the demon’s behavior or not, I should get the hell out of the library.

And yet …

From out of the circle’s inky nothingness, a creature from another world had spoken to me. Call me insane, but I kind of wanted to hear what it had to say. It was contained in the circle. It couldn’t reach me, couldn’t hurt me.

Pulse thundering in my ears, I backed toward the sofa and dropped onto the cool leather, relieved my weak knees hadn’t given out. I straightened my glasses, taking deep breaths. Inhale, exhale. I was okay. I was safe.

“Why should I answer a question?” I whispered cautiously. Then, since I’d already hitched a ride on the crazy train, I added, “You threw a cookie at me.”

“You threw it at me first.”

I stared at the black dome, even though there was nothing to see. That was … true, I supposed. “What’s your question?”

A long pause, as though the creature were second-guessing its words. “What is it you threw into the kaīrtis vīsh before?”

My brow wrinkled. Its English was heavily accented, but part of its query hadn’t been in English at all. “Threw into the … what?”

“The … vīsh … the magic.”

The magic? Threw into the … oh. “You mean the summoning circle? You’re asking what I threw at you?” Mad laughter bubbled in my throat but I swallowed it down. “Cookies. I threw cookies.”