Free The Demon's Apprentice by Ben Reeder Page A

things are in the car.”
    “My things? Jeremy, all of my stuff didn't even fill up a gym bag.”
    “Indeed, sir. All of which gives lie to the appearance your poor, much-maligned father was attempting to maintain. Hence, my excursions to such exclusive establishments as American Eagle and…Hot Topic. Shall I bring it in?” He gestured to the tan Cadillac that lurked in the driveway. I followed him to the rear of the car. Bags filled the trunk, and a pair of suitcases sat in the backseat. I grabbed the bags and took them to my room before he could protest. Jeremy took the suitcases without a word, but his expression told me how dismayed her was. All that was left in the trunk when we went back out was a big shoebox and a black backpack. Those we just brought to the living room.
    “That should be all, sir. You'll find a laptop computer and other school supplies in your backpack. Here is your last month's allowance, and an advance on next month's, as well. I…should be going.” He pressed a roll of bills into my hand as he turned to go.
    “Jeremy, wait!” I said quickly as he turned away. He looked back over his shoulder at me and raised his eyebrows, as if to encourage me to continue.
    “What I just did…it's temporary. If my father figures it out, he can get Dulka to activate the spell again.”
    “Then I shall be discreet, sir, and make the best use of my freedom while I have it.” His smile resurfaced as he came over to me and put one hand on my shoulder. “It is a gift beyond measure, Master Chance. I assure you, I will not squander it.”
    “I'll try to…make it permanent, somehow,” the words tumbled out of my mouth in a rush. “If I can find the focus, I can break the spell for good. I want to fix this.”
    “Chance, you have done more than enough.” There was a warmth to his voice that didn't sound like my father's butler was just speaking to his young charge. “You need not take responsibility for the wrongs of others. If you are asking for my forgiveness, you’ve long had it.”
    Part of the weight on my heart lifted, and I felt the corners of my mouth try to stretch into a smile, but it was still weak. “Thanks, Jeremy.”
    “Think nothing of it, sir. Nothing to forgive.” He gave my shoulder a squeeze and stepped back, then gave me a “Good day, sir,” before he left. Even though I felt better, something still bothered me. The nagging guilt was still there, and seeing Jeremy had just made it worse. In spite of what he'd said, I still felt responsible for all the things I'd done for Dulka and my old man. I paced back and forth as I wrestled with my thoughts, and made absolutely no progress in getting them pinned down by the time my records were delivered. When Mom showed up around two o'clock, my psyche and I decided to call it a draw, but I promised it I wasn't finished with it. I imagined it like some Saturday morning cartoon villain, twirling its mustache and chuckling threateningly as it retreated into the dark parts of my mind.
    Mom and I swapped stories about our morning over cheeseburgers and fries. For once, I lost the “Sucks to Be Me” contest. I got new stuff, while Mom had to sit in uncomfortable chairs and deal with assholes all morning.
    I practically dragged her to the van, though, because the best part of the day was still to come. I bounced in the seat all the way to the parking lot of Kennedy High School, and it was all I could do to wait until she stopped the van to jump out. The red brick building loomed in front of me, three stories of normal teenage life just waiting to be experienced.
    Half an hour later, I was elbow-deep in enrollment forms, while Mom filled out other paperwork. I'd just decided on French for my foreign language credit when a thick file folder with my name on the front of it plopped down in front of me. I looked up to my right to see Mom standing in front of a dark-haired woman in a blue business skirt and matching blazer. The dark-haired woman was