Dealing with Demons

I couldn’t wait for the weekend. Yet, it felt like it approached with painstaking deliberation.

Ahgred’s mark mended slowly. Mom’s wedding plans grated on my nerves, and Beatriz’s daily questions about dress styles and color preferences tested my patience. It didn’t help that I spent very little time with Morik as the week progressed. At least, not any time where I maintained consciousness. The few minutes we had together while he drove me to school and less than two hours after school just didn’t feel like enough.

Saturday morning, Morik and I rushed to the Coffee Shop with boxes from Gran. Word had gotten around, and Gran’s baked goods had really taken off since she and Mona had started partnering. Our current delivery was double the number of boxes we’d initially provided.

Mona celebrated the increase in business with talk of extending her weekday hours. I declined helping her out after school, but that didn’t seem to bother her. She said she might bring in another part-time student but assured me I’d keep my weekend hours.

The workday flew. After I finished the cleanup and prep for the next morning, Morik drove me home where Beatriz already waited, an excited member of the dress hunting party. While I loved the opportunity to spend time with Beatriz, I wasn’t overly enthused about the shopping. I would have rather spent the day with Morik, who had quietly disappeared after dropping me off.

The dress-shopping crew rode in Aunt Grace’s new car for an hour to reach the first of the three shops Mom wanted to visit before dark. Gran took responsibility for clock-watching. Discreetly, of course.

While Aunt Grace and Mom dug through white dresses, Beatriz and I searched through the winter formals. After seeing a few price tags, I happily let Beatriz pick and try on gowns.

Soon, I found myself in a chair outside two dressing rooms. Mom came out with a first option, and we all agreed it wasn’t “the one.”

As soon as Mom went back in, Beatriz stepped out in a strappy dress that fell in a silky cascade to the floor. The silver threads woven into the material caught the light as she moved, giving the dress a subtle elegant sparkle. I nodded my approval. She enthusiastically decreed she would not try on the others in the room with her. She’d found her dress.

Aunt Grace and I wandered over to the bridesmaid dresses while we waited for the next round of admiring. It only took a few minutes before we agreed that nothing on the racks tempted either of us. We both favored floor length, but neither of us favored the prices.

“Don’t forget we need to eat dinner,” Gran said when Mom seemed to be taking a while. It was code for “we need to get Tessa home, so keep it moving.”

Mom hurried out with her third option. She glowed in the dress, and we all agreed it at least made the list. The sales associate wrote down the dress information in the register so Mom could return at another time if she wanted to look at it again.

Fifteen minutes later, we stood in a new store. Since Beatriz’s dress for the dance rested in the trunk of Aunt Grace’s car, she decided to pester me into trying a few on. Aunt Grace found several bridesmaid options for me to try on as well.

When I found myself in a small dressing room crowded with more dresses than I had patience for, I did the unthinkable.

“Morik,” I whispered.

“What’s that?” Gran called from outside the dressing room.

“Nothing.” I wrinkled my nose and reached for the first dress. He probably couldn’t have helped me out anyway. If I blinked out of the dressing room, Beatriz would notice, and Mom would flip. No, I needed to endure and just pick some stupid dresses.

The zipper resisted its track, and I struggled to pull it more than halfway up. When I twisted to try to identify the problem, a hidden pin jabbed me in the side.

I swore.

“Do you need help, Tess?” Gran called.

“No. There’s a stupid pin in this stupid dress, and it’s trying to kill me.”

The zipper wouldn’t ease back down, and any attempt to tug the dress up over my chest only made the poking worse. I glared at myself in the mirror and tried one more time. Thankfully, I’d bitten my lip to keep from swearing, so when Morik appeared, it prevented a scream.

He stood just behind me, eyes swirling with yellow and red. When he saw the dress, and the fitting room, the red faded. I quickly held a finger to my lips and gestured to the zipper. He expertly eased it down. I motioned for him to turn around then pulled the pin from the dress’s lining. After a nudge, he helped zip the dress again. I leaned close, whispered my thanks, and asked him to wait there.

No one liked the dress when I stepped out of the dressing room. Mom poked her head from her own room and agreed. All that pain for nothing. Schooling my disgruntlement, I stepped back into the dressing room and presented my back to Morik.

Understanding his role, he unzipped me then turned to give me privacy. The next dress didn’t pose as much of a problem, but I hesitated to dismiss him.

We moved through five of the seven dresses like that. Gran complimented me on my quick efficiency in switching gowns while Mom still struggled with her third.

The sixth dress, a bridesmaid option, elated me. The long gown fell straight from the bust and looked slightly plain from the front. The back was held together with a single strip of fabric that ran from shoulder blade to shoulder blade. Material draped from each shoulder, creating a scooped back that dipped to the base of my mark.

I needed no assistance with the dress. Tapping Morik, I watched for his reaction in the mirror. His eyes lingered on my back, and I felt his gentle touch on my mark.

“Beautiful,” he whispered with darkening eyes.

“What’s that?” Gran called.

I almost laughed aloud. “I think I found one I like if Aunt Grace agrees.” Making a shooing motion to Morik, I mouthed, “I’ll see you at home.”

He disappeared abruptly, and I smoothed my hands over the material of the skirt. I liked Morik’s reaction to the dress and hoped the others would like it. I stepped out, and Aunt Grace squealed right along with Beatriz.

Both Aunt Grace and I agreed the dress was worth the price. We talked colors with Mom and decided on a bold, deep red. I ordered my dress right away, paid for it with my tip money, and asked if I could rush the order so I could wear it to the dance, also.

Mom’s gaze didn’t quite shine when we finalized the order. When I tried asking her if she didn’t like the dress, Gran put her arm around Mom and assured me they all loved it.

Mom said nothing.

We stopped for an early dinner, took Beatriz home, and returned me to the fortress of solitude with a few minutes to spare. Morik opened the door for us when we pulled into the driveway. No one seemed to mind that he made himself at home.

Mom and Aunt Grace talked about the final wedding dress options while I disappeared into the bedroom to get ready for the chant. Morik followed me.

“How was dress shopping?”

“Boring until you showed up,” I said, gathering my pajamas. “What were you doing?”

“Video game. I liked helping you more.”

“I bet.” I grinned at him then darted to the bathroom.

When I emerged, the soothing cadence of the chant drifted down the short hallway. I hurried to the circle. Morik joined the chant, adding his power to help protect me. He led me to my room after they finished as I strove to keep my eyes open.

“Sleep well, Tessa,” he whispered as he eased me under the covers and kissed my forehead.

The kiss sparked an idea, but the spell gripped me too tightly to speak, and I drifted into the void.

I alertly opened my eyes, but I lay in bed alone. That didn’t matter, though. The idea still occupied my mind, undisturbed by my visit to the magical abyss that substituted sleep.

A kiss sparked the mark. A thought helped it grow. Both forged new aspects in my relationship with Morik. Since the last extension, our relationship hadn’t evolved. We needed to go to the next step. But what defined the next step?

Both physically and mentally, we’d evolved. I squirmed a little on the inside knowing what we still needed to discover. Emotion. Neither of us ever really talked about what we felt for the other. It made sense as the next step.

Tossing back the covers, I glanced at the clock and groaned. Late again, I rushed to dress.

Morik waited for me in the dining room. Sitting across from him, Stephen sipped his coffee with his back to me. When I saw Stephen, I froze in the hallway, and my eyes darted to Mom, who sat at the head of the table. She looked strained. Tense.

Gran stood to the side with her back to all of us, fixing breakfast.

“Good morning, Tessa,” Morik said. He stood, took my coat from the back of his chair, and held it out for me. Averting my gaze from Stephen, who twisted to look at me, I stepped from the hallway and allowed Morik’s help.

“Morning, Tessa,” Stephen echoed Morik’s sentiment pleasantly. “Your mom was telling us about dress shopping yesterday.”

I smiled and nodded, turning briefly to slip my other arm into the sleeve. The smile that curved my lips faltered a bit when I glanced at my mom. The very same topic of conversation had her walking around with a perma-grin for the last week. Why the frown today?

Both Mom and Stephen watched me as I zipped the jacket, their gazes making me slightly nervous. Stephen had never been over in the morning before. I felt like I was missing something but didn’t ask what.

“Mom has great taste. I think she and Aunt Grace are going to make the final selection this Saturday. That right, Mom?” I asked, trying to pull her out of her funk.

“You’re right. She does have wonderful taste,” Stephen agreed. He gave Mom a small encouraging smile before he looked back at me. He cleared his throat. “I’m concerned about the bridesmaid dresses she described, though. Do you think, given your age, we should consider something a little more…” His cheeks pinkened slightly. He looked at Mom, again. She dropped her eyes to the tabletop.

“We can talk about this later,” Gran said as she turned to look at all of us. Her eyes met mine, and she motioned me toward the door.

I glanced toward the clock and quickly grabbed my scarf, nodding my agreement.

“Nice seeing you, Stephen,” I said.

Morik silently followed me out the door.

Ensconced in the car, I turned to Morik. “What was all that about?”

“Your mother was trying to prepare him for the likelihood of a shocking tattoo on one of her bridesmaids. He thought it was Aunt Grace at first, then your mother clarified it was you.”

Oh. I looked out the window. The mark had significance to me, to my family, and to Morik, but what would everyone else see? An underage teen with an excessive tattoo. A troublemaker. I sighed and rubbed my forehead. Poor Mom.

Stephen’s suggestion of a different dress made sense. But I’d spent the majority of my tip money on that dress. When I’d asked to express ship it, the sales associate made it clear the order couldn’t be canceled. Now what?

I would need to talk to Mom after work.

Unfortunately, when I returned to the house, Mom and Stephen had just left to go out for a late lunch. Aunt Danielle supplied us with the information since Aunt Grace and Gran were also missing. Gran visited with her widower down the road, and Aunt Danielle surmised that Grace left for a joyride.

Finally allotted free time with Morik, I asked Aunt Danielle if she minded if we went to Morik’s house. She encouraged me to write a note just in case Stephen returned with my mom first, but she approved of the idea.

As he blinked us from our garage to his, I continued to ponder my mark, the discussion I needed to have with Mom, and the talk I should have with Morik. The Morik talk didn’t concern me as much as the talk with my mother. Or how to deal with the outside world’s knowledge of my mark.

Morik helped me from the bike.

“You’re very pensive,” he said as he unstrapped the helmet. “Will you share your thoughts?”

He blinked us into the living room. Very rarely did I actually see him use a door. I slid the jacket from my shoulders, and he took it with the helmet.

“I was just thinking about the dress I bought.” I watched swirls of black invade his gaze.

“I do like that one,” he said softly.

“Me too. I thought I could wear it to the dance and to Mom’s wedding, but now I’m not so sure.”

“Tessa,” he said, sounding concerned. “I thought you understood the rules of the deal.”

Confused, I shook my head and frowned at him. “What deal?”

“I removed Ashley’s memories. The price is the chant until a week before you turn seventeen. There can be no dance.”

My expression fell, and my eyes watered.

“Please don’t cry,” he whispered, setting the jacket and helmet to the side. “I didn’t realize you still thought you would attend the dance. I never meant to trick you into agreeing to something that you didn’t understand.”

I didn’t really care about the stupid dance. Well, maybe a little. What really bothered me was the fact I wore Ahgred’s mark and now had nothing to show for it. All that pain for nothing. No extra time with Morik.

Yellow flooded his eyes. He watched me with a helpless expression as a single tear slipped over the edge.

Seeing his concern, I swiped the moisture away and reached for his face. He bent, giving me access. My mouth found his, and I teased his lower lip. His hesitant hands roosted on my sides. I smiled at his uncertainty. My mercurial mood probably had his head spinning.

If I couldn’t have the extra time during the dance next Saturday, then I wanted to make every minute count today. We needed to have a talk about our feelings, and a kiss was a good way to start.

Deepening the kiss, I inched closer and dropped my hands to his chest. I pushed his already unzipped jacket off his shoulders. He broke the kiss to pull back and study me, his head canted in question. Lingering threads of yellow danced in the darkness of his gaze. I loved his expressive eyes.

Not ready to answer his questions, I tugged him back to me. Again, he gave in willingly.

Our lips met on a warm exhale. He took possession of my mouth, his tongue teasing my own. A tingle spread to my limbs. I found the hem of his shirt and slid my hands under, gliding my fingers along his smooth, warm skin. He shivered. Encouraged, I explored all the way up to his collarbones.

Panting for breath, I pulled away. He released my lips but didn’t loosen his hold. Trailing kisses along my jaw, he found the sensitive skin just below my ear. Withdrawing my hands from his chest, I grabbed one of his and pried it from my shirt. He growled faintly, and I smiled.

Heart pounding, I daringly guided his hand under my shirt so his palm rested on my bare side in the exact place it had rested a moment before. He stilled and pulled back. His eyes ran with a kaleidoscope of colors. Every color I’d ever witnessed swirled together toward a black core.

“I love watching your eyes,” I whispered.

He made a sound, part groan, part growl. “Ask me for a reprieve the night of the dance. I will give it in return for just a few minutes more of this touch.”

The mixed-up colors and the sound he’d just uttered all made sense. He didn’t want anything to harm me, but he truly did not want to deny me anything.

Slowly, I stood on my toes, and with my lips almost touching his, I whispered, “Morik, allow me to dance with you at my school with my classmates Saturday night, please?”

“Yes,” he breathed. The hand on my skin twitched.

“Morik?” I kissed him lightly. “Don’t forget to use your other hand, too.”

He claimed my lips again, and my heart ached with what I felt for him.

A tingle started at the sway of my back, just where the old mark left off. When the burning sensation started, I kissed Morik deeply to distract myself. I didn’t want the mark to stop growing.

Morik moved his other hand under my shirt and placed it on my skin. The burning began its slow crawl upward, millimeter by millimeter. I pushed the pain aside and focused on what I felt for him and how his touch made me feel. Taking charge, I nudged his hands with my arms and set my own hands back on his stomach, exploring its smooth planes.

The burning intensified. But when Morik moved his hand slightly toward my stomach, the exhilaration distracted me from the conflagration. My stomach quivered. I struggled to breathe.

He pulled back slightly, again kissing my neck. Without the extra distraction, a panting gasp escaped me when the burning sensation hit my bra line.

As soon as I fully acknowledged the pain, it left. The tingle of the new mark remained.

Morik’s hands stilled, and he pulled back to look at me. The colors drained from his eyes as I watched, leaving only three. Black, brown, and ochre. I smiled at him.

“The mark grew.”

“May I see?”

I nodded and turned my back to him. He lightly tugged my shirt up and ran his finger along the mark’s twists.

“It’s beautiful.”

“It is, but it will also cause problems with people who don’t understand,” I said. He dropped my shirt so I could turn around again. “People will think it’s a tattoo, and someone my age shouldn’t have one. At least, not legally in this state. I need to talk to Mom about it. She’ll be the one to get into trouble if I wear that dress and people at school see it. We’ve moved a lot, so the likelihood of us living in a state that approves of a tattoo on a minor with parental consent is high, but I don’t know if that will be good enough.

“People might think of her poorly once they see my mark. Like she’s a bad mom or I’m a problem child.” My stomach chose that moment to growl.

Morik smirked, laced his fingers through mine, and led me to the kitchen. He directed me to sit on a stool and began to make us a snack.

“Would it hurt you if I tried covering it up for the dance? I’m not ashamed of it,” I quickly assured him. “I just don’t want to cause any more trouble for my mom. I think she’s going to have enough trouble when she tries to explain it to Stephen.”

He set a plate with a stacked turkey sandwich in front of me.

“I won’t mind at all.”

Morik and I blinked back into my bedroom just before dinner. He listened for several moments then assured me we could join the others in the living room.

Whatever conversation they’d been having stopped abruptly when we walked into the room.

“Okay…” I said eyeing them all. Mom looked especially sad on the couch. “Since when do we clam up when there’s an issue? Come on. Spit it out,” I said playfully, sitting on the carpeted floor, facing them all.

Morik sat behind me and nudged me so I leaned back against him.

Aunt Danielle, bless her, didn’t leave me waiting for long. “Your mark is stressing your mom. Even if you choose Morik, she’s not sure how it will affect your school or our lives.”

I laughed at Aunt Danielle’s choice of words, “our lives,” as if she had one. She grinned back at me.

“Well, your lives affect me, too,” she said with a wink.

“Morik and I were talking about it. I’m going to try to cover my mark up when I wear the dress.”

No one looked overly happy about that announcement.

“Stephen caught a glimpse of it this morning when Morik helped you with your jacket,” Aunt Danielle said.

“And?” This time I looked directly at Mom. Why was she suddenly acting like this? She’d never backed down from anything before.

“He was upset. I didn’t know what to tell him,” she admitted in a teary voice. “I’m thinking of calling off the wedding. There’s just too much—”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” I said loudly, taking them all by surprise. “He doesn’t understand. If you want him to, you need to explain. If you want to keep him in the dark, then don’t hold him accountable for his ignorance without sharing the blame. He loves you. He probably thinks I’m just trying to find a way to rebel against your plans.”

Mom’s sniffling stopped.

“Make this work.” I looked at all of them. “You all need to make this work. I can’t spend time playing guessing games if there’s a problem. I’m very aware of the time I have left, and I know you are too. Let me stay focused.” Staring at my mom, I added, “I’m trying really hard to do what’s right for us.” I didn’t clarify who I meant by “us.”

Morik rested his hand on my leg and gave it a gentle squeeze of support.