Hold Tight

The next time I heard Josh, he was yelling, and it wasn’t in my mind. I glanced in the rearview mirror. He ran toward me as Kaylee stood motionless in the middle of the road, her hands over her head. I floored it, spinning the back tires and cutting off a red sedan as I fishtailed around the corner.

Deals with demons were made at crossroads. From what I had read in Earthly Elements, I knew crossroads were located near Devil’s Gates: a place where the veil between our world and Hades was the thinnest. Devil’s Gates tended to be located in areas where the supernatural were known to walk. Gloucester fit that description, and thanks to Josh’s and my trip to gather crossroad dirt for a spell we’d cast in October, I knew where one was located.

You didn’t have to possess powers to make a deal with a demon. Creatures from hell weren’t picky about whose soul they trapped. I wasn’t sure how many human years it cost to make a deal, though. I imagined it depended on who you were and the size of the deal. Say you wanted to become the best blues guitarist this side of the Mississippi River—maybe that would cost you ten years. If you wanted wealth, twenty. Or maybe instead of taking years like poker chips, a demon granted you years to live. Ask to be the youngest person to become president of the United States and get ten years to live: two to campaign, eight to serve, and then your time is up. Or if you wanted to be famous, you’d get twenty years. I played all kinds of scenarios in my head, drawing on what I’d seen on television and in movies.

The snow came down heavier the further I drove, but it wasn’t sticking to the road. I kept hearing Kaylee’s, Josh’s, and Isaac’s voices in my mind until I finally ripped my hemp bracelet from my wrist. I spent the entire drive contemplating what a life was worth. How many years would it take to let Chase grow up? I’d find out soon enough.

A dilapidated red barn stood watch over the barren countryside, announcing I’d reached my destination. I pulled off the dirt road and then rifled through Josh’s glove compartment; he didn’t have anything in there I could use to dig in the damp dirt. I rummaged around the trunk next, deciding the tire iron would work well enough. I wrapped my school ID and a few strands of hair inside an orange rag Josh had obviously used to wipe grease off his hands.

“Here’s hoping demons aren’t as judgmental about the items used to summon them as faeries are.”

The wind picked up, sending snowflakes whirling around me with no real direction. I walked straight to the center of the intersection and started to dig. The soil wasn’t as solid as I would have expected. About four or five inches down, I discovered a dingy red scarf already buried there. When I pulled it out and unwrapped it, I found a picture of a black man in his twenties, a clear plastic baggie of dark hair, a dried sprig with dark purple flowers, bones from a small animal, and a tiny jar of deep black dirt.

I’d been right. Deals were struck at this crossroad. It also let me know I had come short of a few items. I added the dried flowers, bones, and dirt to my things and placed them in the hole. Next, I pushed the loose soil over everything and stood waiting.

“Come on,” I said, not sure what to do next. With my arms crossed over my chest to ward off the chill, I anxiously turned every second or so.

“You are one of the last people I ever expected to see here,” a smooth voice said from behind me.

I spun to find Caden standing about ten feet away from me. My jaw dropped at seeing him. He had on his dark green pea coat, and his hair was disheveled. He looked exactly like I remembered him, except his eyes now burned bright red.

Looking into a demon’s gaze—even if he was someone who had been in my house—was unnerving. I needed to get this over with, but anxiety had my mouth spilling my thoughts instead of sticking to why I was there. “I knew there was something off about you, but this—” I waved a hand up and down in awe. I had expected the crossroad demon to be a crotchety old man with scarred skin, red horns, and possibly a spiked tail. I’d seen Caden’s ass—no way was there a tail tucked inside his jeans. “Do crossroad demons always stalk the local high school scene, and are they all as good-looking as you?”

The corners of his mouth tugged upward. “You know, flattery isn’t necessary. I’d stick around even if you were a foul-mouthed wench who hadn’t bathed in days.”

I was too dumbstruck by what he was to think of an appropriate quip.

He went on. “And I do what I must to keep an eye on my business associates.”

I thought about that a moment. “Ben made a deal with you?”

“His brother did. Even threw in a few extra years if I’d stop by and make sure Ben stayed on the straight and narrow.” He shrugged. “I’m always around anyway.”

“Dan sold his soul to become one of Gloucester High’s best jocks?”

“And for a full ride to a top-notch college.”

“What did it cost him?” I asked, needing to know what the average improve-your-life deal went for.

“His soul, plus twenty-three years off the top. That means he lives a shorter life than he would have had he not made the deal.”

I swallowed. One of the reasons witches worked so hard not to use negative emotions to fuel their magic was so that they wouldn’t taint their souls, and here I was, ready to give mine away plus twenty years.

I hid my trembling hands in the deep pockets of Josh’s jacket.

Caden sauntered closer, stopping a foot in front of me. I could feel the heat of his body as if he were his own sun. His eyes narrowed. “What I’m itching to know is since when does a witch need to make a deal with the devil?”

“You know what I am?” With my fists still stuffed in the pockets of the jacket, I pulled it tighter around me as if exposed with nothing else to cover me.

“I can smell your powers. Your friends’ too.”

“Are you really the devil?” I stammered.

He laughed. “No. He’s not as charismatic as I am, but if you’d like, I could see if he can break away from torturing souls to meet you.”

“No. That’s okay.”

I was glad the demon that faced me didn’t look evil, and his statement the other day—‘even I have a code of honor I live by’—made more sense now than it had then. For crossroad demons, it was all about the deal. At least that’s what I’d read, and that’s the knowledge I clung to as I stood in the middle of the intersection with snow flurries drifting down around me.

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Can we get down to business?”

He inclined his head. “Please do tell what brings a witch calling upon my services.”

I wet my lips. “It’s my brother. We were in a car accident, and the doctors can’t help him. He’d be dead right now if it weren’t for Isaac. He’s managing to keep Chase alive, but barely.” I took a deep breath to stifle my rambling and asked, “Can you stop death?”

He grinned. “I’m always happy to deny heaven a soul, even if I’m only delaying its arrival. Cheating death is expensive business, though.”

I prayed my knees wouldn’t give out on me. I shook so badly, I was sure Caden could see what a wreck I was.

“You realize you’d be condemning your soul to an eternity in hell?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Hell for a pure-of-heart is a million times worse than it is for the corrupt. And you, a witch whose powers are fueled by good, will not find the stay a pleasant one.”

As if he had to tell me that.

He ran his fingers over his lips thoughtfully. “A witch’s soul is worth a lot where I come from.”

“Then you wouldn’t want to pass up this opportunity,” I said, hoping to push him into making the deal before I lost my nerve.

“Aren’t you going to ask the price?”

Confused, I replied, “My soul and twenty years off the top.”

He walked around me, stopping behind me.

“That’s the price for a petty deal like a scholarship to a school one can’t afford.” His words moved my hair. “What you’re asking for requires more effort. The price is your soul and I give you three years to get your affairs in order before I come to collect.”

My gaze jerked sideways so I could see him. “Three years? What type of deal is that?”