Free Demonosity by Amanda Ashby Page B

she neatly placed the articles on the bench as the microwave began to ding. “You never have. I bet if I asked what your favorite candy bar was, you wouldn’t be able to tell me.”
    “Of course I can,” Cassidy replied.
It was Snickers . . . no, Mars Bar . . . no, Chunky Kit Kat, or . . .
Then she shook her head and narrowed her eyes. “But that’s not the point. This isn’t about chocolate bars, it’s about—”
    “What’s going on?” Her dad suddenly appeared, leaning forward on his crutches, sleep still crusting his eyes. Cassidy felt guilty.
    “Nothing.” She shook her head and was surprised to see her mom give her a grateful look. Not that Cassidy was doing it for her. She was doing it for her dad. Then she yawned. “Anyway, I’m going to bed now. Try and get some rest, Dad,” she said, before hurrying back to her bedroom. Then she crawled into bed and fell into a dreamless sleep.

NINE
    F eeble rays of light pushed in through Cassidy’s white drapes, and she was just about to roll over and go back to sleep when she suddenly remembered what had happened yesterday. The owl. The knight called Thomas. The grimoire.
    A chill went through her, and she sat up with a start. But as she glanced around the room, there was nothing but the flickering morning sun bouncing off the scissors that she’d used to destroy the book. More important, the eerie sensation that had been her constant companion since she’d discovered the book was no longer with her. She had been right. No book, therefore no stalker knight following her every move.
    She pushed aside the drapes and peered out the window to where the trash cans were standing, their tops flipped back like they always were after they’d been emptied. Which meant that not only had she destroyed the grimoire, but it was now sitting in a pile of potato peelings and moldy bread in the back of a stinky truck somewhere.
    It was over.
    Then she looked at the tattoo on her arm. It no longer burned, but it was stupid to take any chances; she reached for her nail polish remover and vigorously scrubbed it off until her skin was pink and raw. Then she realized that if she was going to get rid of her tattoo, she should get rid of her dad’s as well, just to be on the safe side. She grabbed the remover and hurried to his bedroom, where he was sitting on the bed, fully dressed, with a large pot of tea on the nearby dresser.
    “Do you want a cup?” He nodded at the pot, and Cassidy pulled a face. She pretty much loved everything about her dad, but it was going to be a cold day in hell before she drank tea.
    “Er, no thanks.” She sat down on the side of the bed, careful not to disturb his knee. “So how are you? Did you sleep okay?”
    “Actually, I did,” he said. “By the way, your mom’s gone down to the bakery to grab some croissants, because hey, nothing says Halloween like croissants.”
    “Well, the chocolate-filled ones can be pretty scary,” she joked as she fiddled with the nail polish remover. “But I’m pleased you’re feeling better. I was worried that you might have overdone it last night.”
    “And I’m wondering why you’re holding a bottle of nail polish remover. Is this going to be like the time you set up a beauty salon and made me have my nails painted?”
    “I was ten,” Cassidy reminded him as she opened up the bottle. “I just noticed last night that your tattoo is starting to fade and look ratty, so I thought it was time to take it off.”
    “What’s going on?” He looked at her in surprise before noticing that her own tattoo was gone. “Cassidy, are you still worried? Because I thought that we had—”
    “No, I promise, this isn’t because I’m worried. I just realized that it was a bit dumb of me to expect you to wear a stupid fake tattoo that came from the mall,” she said in a bright voice while quickly pouring the remover onto a cotton pad and reaching for his arm. “I mean, what will your physical therapists