A Demon's Kiss (Young Adult Romance) Read Free

need to talk about this with her—not me.”
    “Trust me, I will.” Gage stuck his hands in his front pockets. “Do you want a ride?”
    I looked up at the ceiling, then back at him. Screw Addison. I nodded. “Sure.”
    He stared at me a moment, his anger fading. Gone. “You look different.”
    “It’s the dress,” I told him. I didn’t go on to tell him it was expensive, though, or that I got a discount on it, although I really, really wanted to. I wanted to blurt out everything about the dress and about me fluffing up my hair and using hairspray. I wanted to babble on and on because I felt flustered by the way he was gazing at me.
    Instead, I tried to sound casual. “I’ll meet you at your car when I’m done.”
     
    ***
     
    When I got home from work there was a note from Beth waiting for me on the kitchen table. Summer and I are catching a movie. Pizza’s in the fridge. Love Mom.
    Love Mom ? I raised an eyebrows, staring at the word. Not the Love, the Mom. Seeing it made my stomach feel funny.
    I didn’t call Beth mom. Ever. Not even when I was a kid. She wasn’t my mom. She was Summer’s mom. But, secretly, I liked to think of her as my mom. Pretend she was.
    But she wasn’t.
    The thing was, I didn’t remember my mom. At all. I didn’t have one single memory of her—not one. I should have though. Really it seemed I should. She died when I was seven. Other people remembered things from when they were seven. They said they did. But not me. I couldn’t remember one thing before I came to live with Beth and Summer. Not one single thing. It was like I had a memory block, or...something.
    Maybe it was my own fault. I was sort of afraid of my mom—afraid to try to remember her. I think my mom was scary. I think she was a witch. Actually, in my heart I knew she was. It was more than just because I’d heard my father and Beth talk about her sometimes—back when I was young—when they thought I was asleep. Also, it was because I had powers—magic powers. I think I got them from her. And they were scary. When I used them, there was always a horrible payback, a scary, terrifying payback. So, I never used my powers. Or tried not to use them. Ever.
    I zapped a slice of pizza in the microwave and downed a Coke. Then I slipped out of my “magic” dress and into a pair of comfortable jeans. It was only then that I noticed the long box on my bed. It was unwrapped. Summer had obviously opened it already. Grrrr! She did that all the time, opened my unnerving gifts.
    They were always left on our front porch, anonymously. When they first started coming, a couple months ago, they creeped me out, big time. I was getting used to them now, though. Sort of. A little bit. Still, seeing the box made my stomach heave a little.
    I read the card, To Michaela . That was all the cards ever said.
    Gingerly, I lifted the lid to the box: roses. They were red and fragrant. I could smell them, even though I didn’t try.
    I bit my lip, torn between wanting to stuff them in the garbage—put them out by the curb, as far away from me as possible—and wanting to give them to Mrs. Henshell, the old lady across the street. I’d seen her as I was getting out of Gage’s car tonight. She was talking to her cat. Not in a crazy way, in an I’m very old and lonely way. Seeing her always made me sad. Someday I’d be old. And I was pretty weird. Would I end up all alone too, talking to a cat?
    I could put the roses on her porch. Do it anonymously, like weird-o guy. The act would turn out different for Mrs. Henshell, though. She wouldn’t be creeped out and close all her shades, be a spaz whenever someone came up from behind. She would smile and put the roses in water, in a special vase. She would be grateful.
    I didn’t do anything—yet. I put the lid back on the roses, tried to forget about them, not get all shaky like usual. Instead, I decided to leave. Get out of my dark, spooky house.
    I glanced in the mirror and shook out my hair,