My Demon Thinks I'm Pretty

Chapter One — The Worst Homework Decision Ever

At 11:47 p.m., Evelyn Carter made a decision that would later become extremely difficult to explain to anyone with common sense.

Unfortunately, she had very little common sense left.

Her history textbook was open in front of her.

Her laptop was open beside it.

Her notebook was open beneath her elbow.

And absolutely nothing useful had been written on any of them.

Eve stared at the sentence on her laptop.

The French Revolution was complicated.

She had been looking at it for approximately twenty-three minutes.

It had not improved.

She sighed and leaned back in her chair.

"That's it."

Her cat was asleep on the sofa across the room.

Eve looked at her.

The cat opened one eye.

"I know."

The cat closed it again.

"You don't have to look at me like that."

Silence.

"You contribute nothing to this household."

The cat remained asleep.

Eve turned back toward her laptop.

The blinking cursor seemed almost judgmental.

She hated that little line.

It had been blinking for twenty-three minutes, patiently waiting for her to become an intelligent person.

She wasn't becoming one.

Her assignment was due the next morning.

Her professor had specifically asked for an essay about the social and political causes of the French Revolution.

Eve had written one sentence.

Technically, it was a sentence.

Technically, it was also true.

She considered submitting it.

Then she imagined her professor reading it.

The French Revolution was complicated.

Thank you for your insight, Miss Carter. Please leave my classroom.

Eve dropped her forehead onto the desk.

"Why did I choose this subject?"

The cat didn't answer.

"Right. Because I was stupid."

She lifted her head.

Her eyes wandered around the apartment.

It was a small place. Nothing special. A second-hand sofa. A narrow kitchen. A bookshelf that leaned slightly to the left because one of its legs was shorter than the others.

Her desk was wedged beside the window.

Outside, the city had gone quiet.

Not completely quiet.

There were still distant cars.

A television somewhere in another apartment.

Pipes making occasional noises inside the walls.

Normal sounds.

Comforting sounds.

Eve glanced at the clock.

11:52.

Six hours of sleep were already gone.

Five, if she wanted to shower.

Four and a half if she wanted breakfast.

She needed help.

Real help.

Not motivational help.

Not another internet article beginning with Here are ten easy steps to write an amazing essay.

She needed someone to sit beside her and tell her what to write.

Her phone buzzed.

Maya: You alive?

Eve typed back.

Eve: Unfortunately.

Three dots appeared.

Maya: Homework?

Eve: History.

Maya: My condolences.

Eve smiled despite herself.

Eve: I have written one sentence.

Maya: That's progress.

Eve: It's eight words.

Maya: Still more than zero.

Eve: Maya.

Maya: What?

Eve: I think I'm going to fail.

The answer came almost immediately.

Maya: You're not going to fail.

Eve stared at the message.

Then another appeared.

Maya: You're going to panic, complain, procrastinate, insult yourself, and somehow finish it at 3 a.m.

Eve frowned.

Eve: That's oddly specific.

Maya: Because I know you.

Eve smiled again.

Then her gaze dropped to the textbook.

The smile disappeared.

"Great."

She rubbed her eyes.

"I need a miracle."

The words escaped casually.

She didn't mean them.

At least, she didn't think she did.

She reached for the textbook and moved it aside.

Something underneath it caught her attention.

A corner of brown paper.

Eve frowned.

She didn't remember putting anything there.

She pulled it free.

It was a notebook.

Old.

Very old.

The cover was dark brown leather, scratched and faded at the edges. There was no title. No name. No decoration except a strange indentation in the center.

A circle crossed by three thin lines.

Eve turned it over.

Nothing.

She looked toward the bookshelf.

"Where did you come from?"

Her cat remained asleep.

Of course.

Eve opened the notebook.

The first pages were filled with handwriting.

Not modern handwriting.

The letters were narrow and elegant, written in black ink that had faded to brown.

Most of it was difficult to understand.

Some pages contained symbols.

Others contained words in languages Eve didn't recognize.

She flipped through them without much interest.

Then she stopped.

One page was written in English.

At the top, someone had written:

A SUMMONING REQUIRES THREE THINGS.

Beneath it:

A NAME.

AN OFFERING.

A REASON.

Eve blinked.

She looked at the page again.

"Okay."

She turned another page.

There was only one sentence.

Do not summon what you cannot dismiss.

Eve stared at it.

Then she laughed.

"That's dramatic."

She flipped backward.

There were diagrams.

Circles.

Names.

Instructions.

Some of the pages were completely unreadable.

It looked less like a normal notebook and more like something someone had spent years collecting.

Eve should have closed it.

She knew that.

Instead, she became curious.

She returned to the page.

A NAME.

She tapped the words.

"A name."

Then:

AN OFFERING.

She looked around.

"Offering what?"

Her eyes landed on a half-eaten chocolate bar beside her laptop.

She picked it up.

"This?"

She laughed.

"Imagine."

She continued reading.

A REASON.

Eve paused.

That part was easy.

She had one.

She needed help.

She needed someone to explain her homework.

She looked at the page.

"Okay."

She raised the chocolate bar.

"If there is actually a demon in this ridiculous book..."

She stopped.

She was about to say something else.

Then she remembered the first rule.

A name.

She needed a name.

She scanned the page.

Several names had been crossed out.

Most were impossible to pronounce.

Then, near the bottom, she saw one written clearly.

Kyle.

Eve stared at it.

"Kyle?"

The name felt almost absurdly ordinary.

Not Azrael.

Not Malachai.

Not some terrifying ancient name.

Kyle.

She smiled.

"Sorry, Kyle."

She placed the chocolate bar in the middle of the desk.

"I don't know who you are, but apparently you're getting recruited."

She was joking.

Mostly.

She found a candle in the kitchen.

She wasn't entirely sure why she did that.

Perhaps because the ritual seemed to require one.

Perhaps because she had officially reached the point where she was willing to do anything.

She placed it beside the notebook.

Then she hesitated.

"Do I actually have to say it?"

Nothing happened.

Eve sighed.

"This is stupid."

She leaned toward the notebook.

"Fine."

Her voice dropped into an exaggerated whisper.

"Kyle."

Nothing.

She waited.

Nothing.

She smiled.

"See?"

She turned toward the laptop.

"I've summoned absolutely nobody."

The lights flickered.

Eve froze.

She slowly looked up.

The lights steadied.

She waited.

Nothing.

She laughed nervously.

"Old building."

She reached for her phone.

The screen turned black.

Eve frowned.

She pressed the power button.

Nothing.

She pressed it again.

Nothing.

"Great."

The laptop screen flickered.

Then went dark.

Eve stared at it.

Her stomach tightened.

The apartment had suddenly become very quiet.

Not normal quiet.

The kind of quiet that made small sounds noticeable.

The refrigerator.

The clock.

Her own breathing.

She looked at the notebook.

The page had changed.

The sentence beneath the three requirements was gone.

In its place were two words.

YOU CALLED.

Eve didn't move.

"No."

The words were barely audible.

She leaned closer.

The ink was still wet.

A small drop rolled down the page.

Eve's heart began beating faster.

She stood.

The chair scraped against the floor.

Her cat woke up.

Instead of looking at Eve, the animal stared toward the hallway.

Its ears flattened.

Eve noticed.

"Hey."

The cat didn't move.

"What?"

A sound came from the hallway.

Very soft.

A footstep.

Eve's mouth went dry.

She looked toward the entrance.

The hallway was empty.

Another sound.

A second step.

Closer.

Eve backed away from the notebook.

"This isn't funny."

No answer.

She grabbed her phone again.

It remained completely dead.

Her cat hissed.

Eve's breathing became shallow.

Then the candle went out.

Darkness filled the room.

For several seconds, nothing happened.

Then someone spoke.

"Why did you call me?"

Eve screamed.

She stumbled backward.

The sound was so loud that her cat disappeared beneath the sofa.

Eve pressed herself against the desk.

A figure stood near the hallway.

Tall.

Very still.

A man.

At first, she could barely see him.

The room was dark, but there was enough light coming from the street outside to outline his body.

He wasn't wearing anything unusual.

Black trousers.

Dark shirt.

Barely visible shoes.

He looked...

Normal.

That was somehow worse.

Eve stared at him.

He stared back.

His expression was unreadable.

Not angry.

Not amused.

Simply confused.

As if he had been summoned into someone's apartment and was now trying to determine why.

Eve swallowed.

"Who are you?"

The man looked at the notebook.

Then at her.

"You know who I am."

"No, I absolutely do not."

His eyebrows moved slightly.

"You said my name."

Eve stared at him.

Then at the notebook.

Then back at him.

"No."

"You did."

"I said a name."

"My name."

"You could have been anyone."

"I wasn't."

Eve's heart hammered.

She reached for the lamp.

The switch clicked.

Nothing.

The man watched her.

"You summoned me."

"I was joking."

"I don't understand."

"I was joking."

He looked genuinely puzzled.

"Why?"

Eve opened her mouth.

Nothing came out.

How was she supposed to explain this?

Because apparently she had summoned a demon, and the demon wanted clarification about humor.

She pointed toward the notebook.

"I thought it was fake."

He looked at it.

"It isn't."

"That's becoming painfully obvious."

His gaze returned to her.

There was something unsettling about his eyes.

Not because they were an unnatural color.

They weren't.

They were dark.

Almost black.

But they seemed far too focused.

He looked at her the way someone might examine an unfamiliar object.

Not rudely.

Not exactly.

Just carefully.

Eve folded her arms.

"Okay. Let's say I believe you."

"You should."

"You're a demon?"

"Yes."

She waited.

Nothing else came.

"No dramatic speech?"

"No."

"No glowing eyes?"

"Why would my eyes glow?"

"I don't know. You're a demon."

He considered that.

"I could make them glow."

Eve stared at him.

"Please don't."

"Very well."

She exhaled.

"Thank you."

He looked around the apartment.

"You called me."

"I know."

"Why?"

Eve hesitated.

Then she pointed at the laptop.

"I have homework."

Silence.

The demon looked at the laptop.

Then at Eve.

Then at the laptop again.

"You summoned a demon..."

"Yes."

"...for homework."

"Yes."

Another pause.

"Why?"

"Because I'm desperate."

He seemed to process this.

"That is the worst reason I have ever heard."

Eve frowned.

"You've been summoned before?"

"Many times."

"What do people usually want?"

"Power."

"Of course."

"Revenge."

"Naturally."

"Immortality."

"Very original."

"Knowledge."

Eve pointed at herself.

"I wanted that one."

He looked at her.

"No."

She frowned.

"No?"

"You didn't ask for knowledge."

"I asked for homework help."

"That is different."

"How?"

"You want me to perform the work."

Eve slowly smiled.

"Exactly."

The demon stared at her.

For the first time, something almost resembling disbelief crossed his face.

"You summoned an ancient supernatural entity to do your homework."

"When you say it like that, it sounds unreasonable."

"It is unreasonable."

"Fine."

Eve sighed.

"I made a mistake."

The demon's gaze shifted to the notebook.

"You made several."

Something in his tone changed.

Eve noticed.

"What do you mean?"

He stepped closer.

The floor didn't creak beneath his feet.

Eve's skin prickled.

He stopped beside the desk and looked down at the open notebook.

His expression hardened.

"This ritual is wrong."

Eve's smile faded.

"Wrong how?"

"I don't know yet."

"You don't know?"

He looked at her.

"I know what it is supposed to be."

"And?"

"Someone changed it."

A chill moved down Eve's spine.

"Someone?"

He nodded.

"Recently?"

"No."

He touched the edge of the page without turning it.

"Long ago."

Eve stared at him.

"Why?"

"I don't know."

That answer surprised her.

"You really don't know everything?"

His eyes narrowed.

"No."

"Good."

"Why is that good?"

"Because if you knew everything, you'd be even more annoying."

He stared at her.

Eve realized she had just insulted a demon.

She cleared her throat.

"Sorry."

"You don't sound sorry."

"I'm trying."

He seemed to accept that.

Then his gaze shifted.

Toward the window.

Eve noticed the change immediately.

"What?"

He didn't answer.

He was listening.

She listened too.

Nothing.

Just the distant sound of traffic.

Then came a faint scratching noise.

From outside.

Eve slowly turned.

The apartment was on the third floor.

There was no balcony.

No fire escape.

Nothing outside the window that anyone could stand on.

The scratching came again.

Long.

Slow.

Deliberate.

Eve's stomach dropped.

She took one step backward.

"What is that?"

Kyle's expression changed.

For the first time since he had appeared, he looked genuinely serious.

"Don't look outside."

Eve stared at him.

"Why?"

"Because it wants you to."

The scratching stopped.

Silence.

Eve's pulse pounded in her ears.

Something moved behind the curtain.

Not the wind.

The curtain had been closed.

Something pressed against the fabric from the other side.

A shape.

Too tall.

Too thin.

Its head tilted.

Eve couldn't breathe.

Kyle moved between her and the window.

"Stay behind me."

She stared at his back.

"You said you weren't my guardian."

"I am not."

"Then what are you doing?"

"Preventing an unnecessary complication."

"That's basically guarding me."

"No."

"It really is."

"Be quiet."

Eve almost laughed.

Almost.

Then the shape behind the curtain smiled.

She couldn't see its face.

But she could see the outline of its mouth.

Too wide.

Much too wide.

Something scraped against the glass.

Kyle's voice became quieter.

"Do not look at it."

Eve swallowed.

"Can it come inside?"

A pause.

"Not yet."

"Not yet?"

He looked over his shoulder.

His eyes met hers.

And something about his expression made the joke disappear from her mind.

He wasn't pretending.

He was afraid of something.

Not for himself.

For her.

The creature outside whispered.

The sound barely passed through the glass.

"Evelyn..."

Eve's blood turned cold.

It knew her name.

Kyle's jaw tightened.

The creature whispered again.

But this time it didn't say Evelyn.

It said another name.

A name Eve had never heard before.

Kyle went completely still.

His eyes darkened.

"What did it say?"

Eve whispered.

Kyle didn't answer.

"Kyle."

Still nothing.

She stepped closer.

"What did it say?"

He finally looked at her.

And for the first time, Eve saw something she hadn't expected to see in a demon.

Uncertainty.

Not fear.

Not exactly.

Something colder.

Recognition without understanding.

"It shouldn't know that name."

Eve's throat tightened.

"What name?"

Kyle looked toward the window.

Then back at her.

"I don't know."

She stared at him.

"You just said it shouldn't know the name."

"I know."

"So you do know it."

His expression remained unreadable.

"I know the name."

"Whose name is it?"

He didn't answer.

The creature outside scratched the glass once more.

Then the sound stopped.

Completely.

Kyle watched the window for several seconds.

Nothing moved.

Finally, he turned toward Eve.

His gaze settled on her face.

He studied her silently.

Eve became uncomfortable.

"What?"

"Why do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Look away."

She frowned.

"I wasn't."

"You were."

"When?"

"When I looked at you."

Eve shrugged.

"People do that."

"Why?"

"Because..."

She hesitated.

Because compliments made her uncomfortable.

Because being looked at too closely made her wonder what someone was noticing.

Because she had spent enough years comparing herself to other women to know exactly what she thought she lacked.

Because she had learned not to expect anyone to look at her and see something worth staying for.

She shrugged again.

"It's nothing."

Kyle watched her.

"Humans say that when something is wrong."

Eve blinked.

"You know that?"

"I've observed humans."

"That sounds creepy."

"It is."

She laughed despite herself.

Kyle didn't.

He was still looking at her.

Then he said, very simply:

"You're beautiful."

Eve stopped smiling.

The words landed strangely.

Not because they were romantic.

They weren't.

There was no warmth in his voice.

No flirtation.

No attempt to charm her.

He sounded like he was stating a fact.

Eve looked away.

"Don't."

Kyle frowned.

"Why?"

"Because I don't believe you."

For several seconds, neither of them spoke.

Kyle looked genuinely confused again.

As though she had just told him the sky wasn't blue.

"You should."

Eve gave him a tired smile.

"Maybe."

Outside, something moved.

Neither of them noticed at first.

Then came one final sound against the glass.

A soft tap.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

Kyle turned.

The window was empty.

But on the fogged glass, written from the outside, were four words.

Words Eve couldn't explain.

Words she had never seen before.

Kyle stared at them.

His face became unreadable.

Eve stepped closer.

"What does it say?"

Kyle didn't answer.

She looked at him.

"Kyle."

He finally spoke.

"Nothing good."

And beneath the strange writing, slowly appearing as if an invisible finger were tracing the letters from the other side, a final sentence formed.

YOU SHOULD NOT HAVE OPENED THE DOOR.