Page 21 of One Hell of a Deal

“Don’t worry about me,” he says with a comforting smile. “As long as you’re okay.”

I smile back and nod, grateful to have him by my side through this chaos.

He clears his throat. “So, like I was saying. We need to try to find another angle. You're right about the Book of Arcainia. There’s nothing here.”

“I think it may take God himself to get me out of this shit,” I groan, pointing at a stack of the pages. “Too bad there is nothing in there about divine intervention.”

“That’s it!” he shouts.

“What?”

“Don’t you see?” He gets up and starts pacing behind the couch. “We’ve been looking in the wrong book. I think we need to go biblical on this.”

“I don’t get it.” Why does he think some holy book would contain any information that would help a demon out of a contract with the devil? “I think you are reaching here.”

“Maybe,” he says, shrugging. “But it’s worth a try. I have my grandfather’s old King James Bible in a box in my closet. We can start there.”

“If you say so, but…” My words trail off as I watch him sprint off to the bedroom to find the book.

This feels like a giant waste of time to me. I don’t know what makes him think God would want to help me. After all, Iwas a demon for a reason...even if I can’t remember what that reason was.

After six hours of scouring the old and new testaments for anything at all that may help us, I’m ready to jump off the building.

“There’s nothing in there,” I whine as I storm off toward the kitchen.

“Where are you going? There are still a few more books in the New Testament to check through.”

“We need to eat,” I say, rolling my eyes with my back to him. “I’m making us some dinner.”

I hear him snap the book shut. “I’ll give you a hand. I could use a break. Let’s pick this back up tomorrow.”

“Or let’s not,” I say, looking him fiercely in his eyes as he approaches me at the kitchen island. “I don’t want to do this anymore. Can we just enjoy the little time I have left? There is nowhere left to look.”

His face flushes. “I’m not just giving up. I really think we can find a way…

“Enough!” I growl, my voice unnaturally deep and gravelly, and his eyes widen. I take a deep breath to calm myself, not wanting to morph into a full demon. “I don’t want to look anymore.”

His shoulders drop, and he slowly nods. “Fine,” he says. “But I’m not giving up. You can’t stop me from trying to help you.”

“Do whatever you want,” I say, turning to get some pasta from the cupboard. “But I’m going out tomorrow. With or without you. I want to have some kind of a life before I go.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose and nods again. “Fine. I’ll take you to Central Park tomorrow.”

“Promise?” I ask, turning to smile at him.

“I promise.”

Chapter Eighteen: Max

It was a beautiful day in the park, and Daphne wanted to see it all. I swear she touched every flower, pointed out every bird, chipmunk, and squirrel, and said hello to every person we passed. I took her to lunch on Broadway, to a tourist hot spot where the servers break out in songs between serving the patrons. I’ve never seen someone smile so much.

By the late afternoon, as we were wrapping up a tour of the super crowded Times Square, I was falling asleep on my feet. Knowing we would be out in the city all day, I shouldn’t have stayed up so late, but at least I managed to email almost twenty demonologists and theology scholars about our predicament.

Of course, I told them I was researching crossroads demon lore for a documentary I was writing, instead of the truth.I doubt anyone would believe the truth anyway. I’ve been checking my emails off and on all day, anxious for a reply, but there’s been nothing yet.

Daphne is currently bent over a table, shoulder to shoulder with an out-of-towner, the table filled with knock-off watches and perfumes. She holds up a gaudy gold watch and waves it at me, shouting, “Can you believe this is only five bucks?”

“That’s because it’s a fake,” I say, putting my hand on her elbow, guiding her away. “That will turn your wrist green in a day.”

---