Chapter Twenty-One
Sam stood, looking not altogether surprised to be standing in a girl’s bedroom. He dropped his eyes from Cassie to the circle that contained him, and she felt a lurch in her stomach when an expression she didn't quite recognize settled over his features. It was…wry? Amused? She didn't have a word for it, but somehow it looked wrong on his face.
"My stars, is this a sloppy business," he said, scratching his chin. "I've seen some shabby summoning circles in my time, and let me tell you, hon, this is probably the worst I've seen. It's actually kind of impressively horrific."
Cassie felt her stomach drop, the last naive hope that she'd successfully summoned Sam dying inside her. In addition to all her senses screaming at her that this was most emphatically Not Sam, the man she knew would never call her "hon." She’d succeeded in summoning something, but not who she wanted; to make matters worse, the thing had somehow taken Sam’s form just to mock her.
"I mean, I don't know if you could make a worse circle if you were trying. An impressive amount of blood, though."
Cassie cleared her throat. She might have screwed up royally, but maybe explaining herself would count for something. It wasn't like she had any other options, really. "I gave myself a lot of cuts. I didn't want to screw up the summoning because I didn't use enough blood."
Not-Sam's face curled into a smile, not really like one of Sam's rare smiles, but familiar enough it made something twinge inside her. "Really now? Heh, you remind me of someone, just a little bit. But you didn't need to use it all. Blood like yours, a bloke like me sits up and pays attention. A few drops, call my name, and I'm here, babydoll."
Cassie wasn't sure what to say to that. "Uh, sorry?" He chuckled, and went to examine the volumes on the bookcase that he could reach without leaving the circle. Well, score one for her planning.
Even in her addled state, Cassie realized something was wrong, besides the obvious. Should it really be this easy to summon a demon? Sure, she had her potent super-magic blood, but didn't demon summoning typically involve studying, animal sacrifices, and lots of complicated little drawings of pentagrams and whatnot?
She frowned as Not-Sam happily ignored her and examined the spines on the books. This had been a half-baked, desperate idea and she knew it; it shouldn't have worked at all, let alone summoned a full-blooded, shape-shifting demon. The demon didn't seem to mind talking to her, so maybe the direct approach was best.
"So, it's this easy to summon you? I didn't really expect it to work, honestly."
The demon didn't seem to be paying attention, thumbing through copies of Harry Potter and Gossip Girl, but it surprised her by answering. "Summoning us is easy, especially for one such as you. Now, the complicated part— and the part that makes mages spend all that time drawing pretty symbols— is to protect the summoner from us." He put the book he was thumbing back on the shelf and turned around, hands in his pockets. "Apparently, you don't go in for that sort of wimpy nonsense."
And with that, he crossed the line of the circle to stand before her.
Cassie gasped and jumped back, pressing her shoulders against the door. Now she was stuck in here, with this thing that probably ate people, and she couldn't blame Cordley for this one; she had brought this on herself. She felt her heart hammering in her chest painfully.
Not-Sam laughed. "Oh please, now that I'm not bound by the circle I can do anything. Even you should know that. Don't pretend you can run away." Yawning, he moved over to the bed and fell back, stretching, then sat up cross-legged and fixed his eyes on her.
"The thing is, I'm curious. I'm summoned, by a wide-eyed virgin whose veins apparently run with liquid magic— and wearing quite a fetching outfit, I might add— into a blood circle with no protection whatsoever, after dark. How convenient can you get?" he said, his voice slow and even.
"Who put you up to this, hon? Don't get me wrong, my normal MO would be to snatch you home to keep me company for the rest of your pathetic lifespan, and I still might, but I want to know who put the honey in this trap."
Cassie found her voice, hating the fact that it shook. "No one put me up to it. I was trying to summon my...master," she said, barely pausing on the hated word "...and I got you instead, somehow. Um. Sorry to bother you."
His eyes narrowed as though he didn't believe her. "Who were you trying for? I distinctly remember hearing you call my name."
Despite her fear, Cassie managed to narrow her eyes at him. He'd shown up looking like Sam just to mess with her, and now he was being cute? "Don't you know? You made yourself look like him."
There was a long pause, so long Cassie actually started to feel a little awkward, and then his red eyes widened in realization. "No I didn't, actually. Tell me, exactly, who you were trying to summon."
"Sam, half-demon. Barista at The Daily Grind. General pain in the ass, and my master...the dumbass," she trailed off.
The demon lowered his eyes and licked his lips, considering. He looked at her and shook his head, a ghost of a smile teasing. "I don't believe it; my idiot son has finally pulled his head out of his mopey, insufferable ass and taken a familiar. I thought I'd never see the day."
Cassie's jaw dropped. She had summoned Sam's father? How in hell, quite literally, had that happened?
Sam's father stood up, and walked towards her, putting his palms out flat in an "I come in peace" gesture. "It makes sense; you tried to call my son, but it's not that easy to summon a half-demon— you'd need a lock of his hair, or at least a sock or something. Something physical for him to latch onto. Me, the blood calls: you spilled your blood, called his name, and it happens to be the same name." He chuckled. "Some summoners have tried and failed to summon me after training for years, and you do it by accident? I'll bet you're some familiar, Cassie."
Cassie looked over to the bed, where Sam’s suit jacket still was. She’d taken it off when she started to feel warm during her aggressive papercut session. Dammit, she’d had the tools she needed to summon him properly all along, and she hadn’t known. She could have kicked herself for not throwing the jacket on top of the blood circle; it seemed so obvious in retrospect.
Cassie released some of the tension in her body, realizing from the ache in her back that she'd been pressing her shoulder blades against the door for as long as he'd been outside the circle. He was Sam's father, not just an inhuman monster; maybe this wouldn't be her last bad decision.
"So if you're Sam's father, does that mean you won't drag me off to, um...you know?" she said, averting her eyes.
He closed the distance between them and put his hands on her shoulders, making her jump. A calm smile on his face, he began to rub her shoulders soothingly. "For that git? No, I should take you and chain you up in my basement for the next 50 years just to punish him for being, well…you know, the way he is. Stealing his familiar from right out under his nose would serve the bastard right."
Cassie was starting to get used to the feeling of her stomach dropping to her ankles; it wasn't so bad, once you accepted the fact that you were screwed and would probably never see the sun again.
He tucked a finger under her chin and looked at her appraisingly, gently moving her head from side to side; even though she knew it wasn't him, the idea of Sam doing that to her made the blood rush to her face. Dammit, she thought, I'm about to get dragged to Hell and I'm still crushing on him? What is wrong with me?
Satisfied somehow, he took his hands from her and sighed. "Unfortunately, as much as I'd like a new friend just your shape to keep me company, Helen would definitely hold it against me, and I won't have that. So I guess you aren't leaving this plane of existence just yet."
Cassie let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. Who was Helen?
"Now that you've had a moment to thank your lucky stars, tell me: why did you want to see that git of a half-demon so badly? I honestly can't imagine."