Freeks(73)
After talking to Luka more last night, he’d confirmed what Gideon said—whatever it was that attacked him was impossible to really see or describe. So, we’d ruled out the possibility that it was an animal. Whatever it was had to be supernatural.
“How do you figure?” I asked.
“The attacks have been escalating in frequency and intensity,” Roxie said. “So far, no one has been killed, but Seth and Luka are both lucky to be alive.”
“Maybe it needs to feed to grow stronger,” Hutch suggested. “Like a vampire or demon or something.”
“It’s not a vampire.” Roxie shook her head. “When we were in Poughkeepsie last year, we met a vampire named Claudette. You could see her and describe her. She looked just like a normal person. And vampires trick you into letting you feed on them. They don’t stalk campsites.”
“Everything needs to eat to get stronger,” I interjected. “I mean, Roxie just got food for Luka to help him get stronger.”
“That’s true,” Roxie agreed. “It could just be a strange monster that woke up after a long hibernation, and it’s really hungry.” She paused before adding, “Or it could be a demon or something feasting on us because we have special powers.”
I cast her a look across the table. “You really believe that?”
“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “But I can make fire just using my mind, and Luka can heal himself, and we were both targeted. Is it so crazy to think that there might be a creature that feeds on the supernatural?”
I leaned back, resting my head against the wall behind me, and sighed. “No. It’s not.”
“We need to kill it before it kills us,” Roxie replied matter-of-factly.
“You think it’s a demon, and you think we should kill it?” I asked with an arched eyebrow.
“Yeah. Doesn’t your mom have all kinds of books on demonology?” Roxie asked. “You should talk to her. She might know something.”
“She’s got some books,” I admitted reluctantly.
My mom did have a few books on demonology and the occult, and when she was younger, I know she’d studied it more, so she may know something helpful. But she also hadn’t really been herself since we’d gotten to Caudry. This place was making it hard for her to think straight.
Roxie leaned forward on the table, folding her hands in front of her. “Look, Mara, we have to do something. We’re just sitting ducks here until nightfall. If we don’t start becoming proactive, we’ll be dead.”
“I’ll talk to her,” I said.
“When?” Hutch asked from his perch above me.
“Now, I guess,” I said, since it didn’t seem like either of them would let up until I did. And it wasn’t like just talking to my mom could really hurt anything.
“Make sure you ask her about demons,” Hutch said as I started to get up.
“That is the plan,” I muttered, glancing back at him.
“And also vampires, werewolves, warlocks, and anything else you can think of,” he added.
“I think she’s got it, Hutch,” Roxie told him dryly.
When I left, Hutch was still adding suggestions of things I should bring up, which now included dragons and unicorns. Stepping out into the bright morning sun, the air already felt thick and suffocating. I took a deep breath and hurried over to Gideon’s trailer.
Through the open windows, I heard my mom grunt loudly, followed by a loud banging sound.
“Lyanka, let me help you,” Gideon’s voice drifted warmly outside.
“I’ve got it,” Mom insisted, sounding out of breath.
“Is everything okay?” I asked cautiously.
I leaned forward, peering in through the screen door. Gideon stood leaning against the counter, wearing a tank top and old jeans. In front of him, my mom was hunched over with her hair pulled up in a loose bun, and droplets of sweat stood out all over her tawny skin.
“Everything’s fine.” Mom straightened up, and I saw a large steamer trunk, one I recognized instantly. “It’s here anyway, so I’m done.”
“I would’ve helped you,” Gideon persisted, but my mom waved him off.
“Come in, qamari.” Mom turned her attention to me as she caught her breath. “Stop lurking outside like a robber.”
I pushed in the screen door, my eyes still fixed on the trunk, and asked, “Is that … is that Grandma Basima’s?”
“Yes, and before that it was your great-grandma Elissar’s, and someday,” she paused, exhaling deeply, “it will be yours.”
The steamer trunk was battered and worn from age and travel. It was warped dark brown wood, held together with thick bands of iron.
“It’s about time you see what’s inside, don’t you think?” Mom asked. From around her neck, she grabbed the skull key, taking it off for the first time that I’d ever seen.
45. armed
The key fit in the large lock on the front of the trunk, but evidently, it had not been opened in a while. Mom tried to turn it at first, to no avail, so Gideon took over and put his muscle into it. With an audible and angry click, the lock opened, and Gideon stepped back so my mom could open the trunk.
As Mom lifted the lid, I stood behind her and Gideon, steeling myself for whatever was inside. I half expected evil spirits to come swarming out and melt our faces off like in Raiders of the Lost Ark.