“Obviously.”
“So really, the human is kind of like the wand,” I said thoughtfully. “You can put dragon scales or phoenix feathers in a wand and use that, but to harness the power of demons you have to put them in a human. The human is the wand.”
“I am not a wand,” said Devon in a grouchy tone.
“Of course not,” I soothed.
His fingers traced a path along the ceiling tiles. “Ugh, there’s traces of him everywhere, which makes it harder to pinpoint him.”
“But you’ll find him?” I said.
“Sure, sure.” He jumped down from the table. “What have you got there?”
Hells. “Nothing.”
Devon grabbed my hands and pried my fingers apart. The pixie hopped off and onto a desk.
“Devon! Don’t. Don’t let the demon get his way.” The pixie hopped over another desk. Another. Devon lunged, but I kicked his shins hard and that slowed him down. There was an open window, and I hoped the pixie had enough brains to go out it.
Devon darted up and around me, but his shoe hit a desk. I lunged for where he fell, but then he was no longer there. He appeared in a flash in front of the pixie, blocking the open window, moving with demonic speed.
The pixie levitated, blinking.
“Devon!” I shouted. “You don’t need it, remember? To fill your contract the pixies just have to be here on Friday. It’s Friday. You could let it go.”
Devon’s eyes narrowed. Then he lunged, I lunged, and then—the pixie was gone and the two of us were on a tangled heap on the floor. I looked down at Devon’s clutched fists, swallowing. I couldn’t even think about how interesting it was to be lying in a tangled heap with Devon—I was too focused on what might be in his hands.
But when he opened them, there was nothing.
The pixie had escaped.
Devon’s face was suffused with rage as he jumped up. “I almost had it.”
I seized his shoulders and shook hard. “Devon! I know you’re still in there. Believe me, you can come out. Or shove him in, whatever metaphor you need.”
This time took the longest. There was a full minute of me holding Devon’s arms while he stared past me. But he didn’t make those trying-not-to-puke faces this time as he came back. He was merely silent, and then he blinked and said, “Cam?”
“Crap,” I said. “You are not holding on very well.” That probably wasn’t the most encouraging thing to say.
“I don’t understand this, Cam,” Devon said. His green eyes were worried. “It’s not like a tug-of-war anymore. Not like I have to shove him aside. It’s like … he’s inside my brain.”
“Well … he is.”
Devon shook his head and that black hair flopped over one eyebrow. “No, it’s weirder than that. It’s like…” He swallowed. “It’s like he’s been inside me all along. Like a part of me that’s always been waiting to come out. It’s like we’re one person.”
“Wow.” Every time I thought I understood the trickiness of demons, Estahoth came up with new ways to influence his host. “So he’s messing with your mind like some kind of pulpy super-villain? Makes you want to destroy sophomore girls’ lives for no reason?” Reese’s distraught face was still very much in my mind.
Devon shook his head. “If it were for no reason, it’d be obvious.” He moved closer and suddenly I was super-uncomfortable, like I was standing in a furnace. His eyes … were they earnest or menacing? The green was lost in shadow. “It’s more that certain things seem like a good idea nowadays.”
I tugged on my T-shirt. “Certain things like looking for a phoenix here at school? It’s going to explode, you know.”
“Certain things like taking a little time out from saving the world,” he said. He put one hand on the radiator behind me and then he was leaning in. “The demon doesn’t own me, you know. The witch doesn’t own you.”
“Well, no … but we have to stop her, you see … Time is running out…”
He was very close and that electricity was jumping around between us again. This was Devon, wasn’t it? Devon on a very slippery slope?
He was very, very close. Low and velvety he sang, “She stands next to me, when the bad guys come around…”
I was not going to melt. I was not going to melt.
“I can control him,” Devon said. “We can do this without him eating your dreams.”
I was dying to believe him. But if I became Zombie Cam, everything was going to go to hell in a handbasket. I was not going to be Reese, and I was going to tell him that firmly, too. Barely I managed: “Not yet.”
“When?”
“When this is over. If you still want to. If it’s not just the demon speaking.”