Taming Demons for Beginners (The Guild Codex Demonized #1) - Annette Marie Page 0,16

than I’d ever felt before coursed inside me.

The definition of evil is an apt description of the demonic psyche. Now I understood. I no longer doubted those words in the slightest. The winged beast in that circle wanted to kill me—me and every other human it could lay its hands on. If not for the invisible barrier holding it in that circle, it would’ve already murdered us.

“If you aren’t a summoner, why are you here?” Amalia asked.

“M-m-my p-parents’ will,” I chattered as I wrapped my arms around myself to stop their shaking. “Uncle Jack is the executor.”

“Yeah, so?”

“I h-haven’t gotten my inheritance yet.” I peered up into her shadowed face. “It’s been six months, but Uncle Jack keeps making excuses. Then he sold my house and kept the money, so I came here to … to try to …” I trailed off hopelessly.

“Aw shit,” she muttered. She held out her hand.

I stared, shocked, then reached up. She pulled me to my feet and ascended the stairs.

“You really aren’t training as a summoner?” she asked over her shoulder. “But your parents were summoners. Why didn’t they teach you?”

“My parents aren’t—weren’t—” Pain slashed me as I corrected my error in verb tense. “They weren’t summoners.”

“I thought they were. Dad used to complain about how your mom sabotaged his career and forced him to start summoning from scratch.”

We exited the greenhouse, but the golden sunlight did little to warm the shivery cold inside me.

“My parents never mentioned demon summoning,” I said quietly. “Not once. I didn’t know Uncle Jack was a summoner until I got here.”

Facing me, Amalia brushed her hair off one shoulder. “Summoning is the family business. We’ve been summoners for generations.”

“But that … that can’t be. My parents would have …”

Stay away from magic and it’ll stay away from you. That was the lesson my parents had taught me. Pursue a career in the human world, not the mythic one. Study mythic history if you want, but don’t get involved in magic. And ignore the mysterious, ancient grimoire your mother diligently protects.

What had my parents been hiding from me?

I sat on the kitchen stool Amalia had vacated, my elbows propped on the counter and chin on my palms. A plate sat in front of me, and on it was a perfect slice of fluffy white cake, frosted with whipped cream and topped with artfully arranged strawberry slices, a sprinkle of plump blueberries, and a drizzle of dark chocolate ganache.

Angel food cake. The most perfectly ironic bribe for a demon.

A memory, laced with terror, rose in my mind: the winged, horned monster with dark reddish skin crouched in the underground circle, radiating its desire to kill. I imagined the husky laugh of the library demon coming from its thin lips.

I’d talked to a monster like that winged creature. I’d given it cookies. I’d told it I loved baking with my family.

Picking up the fork beside my elbow, I poised it over the whipped-cream-and-ganache topping. I should eat this beautiful piece of cake. Scarf it right down, then head up to my room and plot my next move in the battle against Uncle Jack. I had nothing to gain from interacting with the demon.

But I was going to the library anyway, because reading The Summoner’s Handbook was no longer a passing curiosity. With one conversation, Amalia had rocked the foundation of my world.

Summoning is the family business.

The fork wobbled and I set it down. Chewing my lip fretfully, I opened the breadbox and loaded a napkin with the cookies I’d baked early this morning, then picked up the plate of angel food cake. Lost in new worries that had joined the ever-present ache of my parents’ loss, I headed into the basement.

The library lights were dimmed, the obsidian dome almost invisible. I nudged the slider up with my elbow and a soft glow pushed the shadows away. Cautiously, I approached the circle and knelt on the floor, then skooched close enough to slide the napkin of cookies over the silver inlay.

“That’s for answering my question last time,” I said.

Quiet was the only response, then …

“Keeping your word, payilas,” the demon whispered, its voice only feet away.

I couldn’t look at the darkness. Was there a monster concealed inside it—a seven- or eight-foot beast with giant horns, wings, and a tail made for crushing enemies? The crimson eyes I’d glimpsed—did they too burn with murderous hatred and insatiable bloodlust? Uncle Jack and Claude thought this demon could be the most powerful of all; maybe