Blood of the Pure (Gaea) (16 page)

However, I’d also thought I looked silly in the clothes I wore that day, and yet Michael had told me I looked great.

I blushed and took a hand to my face, thinking how embarrassing it was to look like that, my face bright red, every time I was with him.

I put the rest of the clothes away and took a deep breath. I looked at my refilled wardrobe and a frown marked my forehead.

Now that I looked at it as a whole, I could easily tell the dominant style. There were bows and ribbons, small patterns and laces. The cuts were all delicate, the fabrics flowing. I recalled what Steph had told me about how frail I looked and grinded my teeth. Apparently, he agreed with her and thought the best thing to do was dress me up like a doll! In my anger I almost thought the two of them were secretly meeting to discuss that kind of stuff! And then I stopped, as my anger went ice cold when I noticed I started thinking of him the same way I thought about Steph. And he was nothing like Steph! He was nothing like us!

After putting everything away, I was faced with a new dilemma — to study or to read the book Michael handed me. I didn’t have to think too hard about that one, and reading Michael’s book won by majority.

Not long after, Lea’s bell echoed in the corridor and across my room, and the little kitten jumped into my bed, curling up near my arm. I laughed, happy to have his company, and read him some of the poems out loud. Lea seemed to listen attentively, his ears turning here and there.

It was already dark when I went down to cook dinner. He hadn’t returned yet, but despite everything, I made some extra food which I left over the stove.

After dinner I decided to check my e-mail, anxious to get news from my mom.

She’d arrived well and everything was great. They picked her up at the airport in a car with a chauffeur and the hotel room was apparently bigger than our house. She went on describing in detail her arrival, following an endless list of questions — if I was eating well, if I was going to school, if I was being nice to Gabriel and so on. After which followed another list, this time of recommendations, some of which she’d already told me in person before leaving.

I answered her long e-mail with a much shorter one. I told her everything was fine and reminded she’d just left the other day and had nothing to worry about. I’d take care of everything she’d said. Besides, Gabriel was here, I added knowing it would make her feel better. I sent kisses and lots of love and pushed the send button. From that one e-mail I could already tell her next ones were bound to be an endless cry of how much she missed me, but still I’d be happy to read them.

I lay down and took a deep breath. I felt tired and knew the right thing to do was get some sleep. Lea curled up near my pillow once again and looked at me with expectant silver eyes. Shamelessly using him as excuse, I grabbed Michael’s book to read a few more poems out loud.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The rest of the week went by without incident.

As time went by I started noticing the new established routine and started to count on it. To tell the truth, I only saw Gabriel in the morning, at breakfast, and as we walked to school. During classes he was always at the back of the room, surrounded by girls, and I had Steph, Joanne and Kevin to keep me company. We met again at lunchtime when he joined our group. Everyone had grown accustomed to his presence and easily included him in their talks. Sometimes he’d change secret whispers with Steph, which always left me apprehensive knowing that they were probably talking about me. It looked like Steph had adopted him as her accomplice in the almost impossible task of making me look more feminine and attractive.

After lunch we always left together, walking in silence until we were outside. We walked side by side up to Michael’s group and my day really started there.

As much as I didn’t want to admit it, I had to concede that Stephanie was right. He really tried to keep the girls busy so that I could have Michael all to myself. Those were my special moments. Being able to get close to him, talk with him, look at him. In those brief moments there were just the two of us in the world and my chest was filled with enough warmth to keep me going for the next twenty-four hours until I saw him again. When we were together, time went by unnoticed. We exchanged books and discussed ideas. We talked about Lea and I told him the news I had received from Paris.

To my relief, by the third day of my new look, I stopped attracting so much attention and everyone started passing by me without gaping or staring at me from head to toe.

When Friday came I said goodbye to Michael with a heavy heart, since I wouldn’t be able to see him for two whole days. The arrival of the weekend I’d always longed for, to grant me some well-deserved peace and quiet, seemed like hellish torture. I wouldn’t have Michael to brighten my day. And I didn’t know what to do should Gabriel choose to stay at home.

Thus, wanting to avoid the possibility of having to endure his presence, I took the chance that I had the afternoon off to go and look for the store where I’d acquire the magic book.

After some search, since that afternoon I’d simply entered the first door I’d found, I finally saw the strange storefront with a heavy purple cloth in the back. On a small table that looked more like an altar, there was a chalice like the ones I recalled seeing inside, and two wooden candleholders with two dark-blue candles. There was also a silver dagger and rose petals everywhere. On the floor, near the table, was a hand mirror, its handle in the shape of a long snake, and a pile of books strategically placed so that one could read all the titles from outside. Like the others inside, those were also about the occult, magic or alternative medicine. On the left corner of the storefront, in a shadowy area, there was a human skull that I hoped was plastic, and a long sword, with a deep red ribbon with bells at the ends, hanging from a handle.

I took a deep breath and pushed the glass door to enter. The bell rang, announcing my presence just like the first time I’d been there, and I took a quick look around.

Everything was still the same, I thought. The dream-catchers, the shelves full of small statues, the CD display. The counter in front of me still kept a wide variety of pendants and, on top of it, the candles were arranged by colors. Behind it, the bookshelf was as attractive as before, although my previous experience with the kind of books there had been the worst possible. However, the face that looked at me from behind the counter was neither old nor feminine. A middle-aged man with dark hair and brown eyes watched me expectantly, his strong hairy hands resting over the glass. He forced a smile as he noticed my hesitation and cleared his throat.

“Hello there. May I help you?” His strong and hoarse voice broke the disappointment I’d felt for not having found the old woman, and I placed the heavy bag I’d carried all the way from home on the counter.

“Good afternoon,” I replied. “Um, maybe you can help, yes.” I added, noticing that the old second-hand books I’d seen before were all gone.

I took the book out of the bag so he could see it, but placed a protective hand over its soft leather cover.

“I came here last week and the lady who was here gave me this book,” I explained. “I’d really like to speak with her if possible.”

He looked at the book with a critical expression and sighed heavily, taking a hand to his face.

“I see. The lady you’re referring to is my mother. And that book used to belong to her.” I felt like I’d kept something that didn’t belong to me. “I ask her to watch over the shop for one day and she immediately has to bring those things over,” he complained. “I am terribly sorry if she caused you any trouble. And, if you wish, I don’t mind getting rid of that thing for you.”

I instinctively pulled the book closer to me and tried to clarify my situation.

“No, it’s nothing like that. She didn’t cause me any trouble.” Well, except for the fact that she’d given me a book containing a demoniac evocation, of course, I thought. “I just wanted to talk with her about some of the ... spells,” I said, lowering my tone as I pronounced the word ‘spells.’ Any other person would have certainly found me peculiar talking about things like that. My hope was the owner of that kind of shop would be open-minded enough to that kind of stuff to find it normal.

“Hmm, spells,” he repeated pensively while tilting his head to read the book’s title. “To tell you the truth, it would really be better if you could talk to her. That book is really old and, like all the others she kept from her youth, it must be considerably outdated when compared to the Magic practiced nowadays.” Now I was the one staring at him like he was the peculiar one. Did he mean to say that not only were people going around casting spells, but there were also updates for that kind of thing? “Unfortunately, my mother went back home, in the North, the day before yesterday. But tell me. What would you like to know? Maybe I can be of assistance.”

Still I hesitated, fearing that my questions would sound too preposterous, or that they might hint at the situation I found myself in. My purpose wasn’t really letting him know I had a demon living in my house and that I’d accepted a Contract with him in exchange for my life.

“Well, I was reading some of these spells and it’s like you said, they look pretty old,” I started, watching him closely, looking for clues that would show me if I was saying anything too strange. “Some even use ancient words that I don’t know the meaning. And so I was a bit ... afraid,” I confessed, exposing my suppositions. Those strange words; no other spell contained anything even similar. And I clearly recalled that those had been the last things I’d said before the symbols in the Protection Circle had exploded. “I’d like to know what they mean.”

“Ancient words?” he asked, looking intrigued, and I nodded as I opened the book on the right page. I’d never forget that page. Sometimes I even saw it in my dreams where I relived the horror of that night.

“For example ...” I pointed to the right line, turning the book towards him, and he read it in silence. I couldn’t help thinking what might have happened had he read it aloud.

“You’re absolutely right. It does sound like some ancient language,” he confirmed. “Maybe Hebraic? I’m sorry, I don’t know how to translate it. But since this is a Love Spell, I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about. Normally, when a spell is cast, it will release either positive or negative energies. And Love Spells are usually based on positive energy.”

“What about evocations?” I asked, and he looked at me.

“Evocations are a completely different matter and are considered very dangerous. Nowadays, very few Magic practitioners use either evocations or invocations, with exception, of course, of the evocations of the Guardians of the Cardinal Points needed to cast a Protection Circle. Invocations are, by nature, more related with the spirits’ realm, but even those are quite dangerous. After all, even though the practitioner may have a specific intention, when a portal to another dimension is opened, no one really knows what may come across it. It can be just some lost entity, but there are those that linger patiently near the border between dimensions, just waiting for an opportunity to enter our realm.” His explanation did sound kind of crazy but I couldn’t exactly doubt any of that, I thought. Who was I to be a skeptic about other dimensions and occult entities? Me, who every morning had breakfast in the company of something evoked through a Magic spell?

He’d spoken about evocations and invocations. Those were terms that, by now, I was quite familiar with, after all the searches online I’d done in the last days. According to most occultists, invocations referred to the process of bringing into our world a being or entity that would manifest itself through the summoner’s body. On an evocation, on the other hand, the entity invited could use its own body to manifest itself, be it visible or not. From that I’d concluded my ‘cousin’ Gabriel was clearly the result of an evocation.

“But why? Why do those entities want to come to our dimension?” I asked and he seemed to think about it for a moment.

“Many reasons, I suppose. Simply to have some fun? Sometimes to feed. Many of these entities feed on different types of energies and we, Humans, are a constant source of energy, be it vital, sexual, emotional, mental, spiritual and so on. It may also happen that they’re simply curious.”

“And can’t they be sent away?”

“I suppose they can. But it’s not that easy. First, the entity must be visible, or at least localizable. If we can’t know where it is, it will be practically impossible to send it back, since the Magic has no target to act upon. Then we’d have to know the entity’s nature and possess the right ritual to cast it away. That would probably be the most difficult part, since most entities that cross into our dimension do it without being invited. Since they’re like accidents, we normally don’t have all the needed information to banish them effectively. And finally, we’d have to be able to execute the ritual perfectly. A simple mistake could risk everything, enraging the entity instead of banishing it as intended. Besides, some Magic spells require such a high degree of concentration and energy that not every practitioner is able to cast them. And that’s why, generally speaking, the Magic community stopped summoning other entities.” He smiled. “But you have nothing to worry about,” he assured me. “That book only contains simple spells and enchantments. I’m sure it doesn’t include something as dangerous as rituals of evocation.”

I smiled wearily. If only that were true!