Darkborn by Matthew Costello Read Free Book Online

“How to summon a demon. God!”
    “I gotta go,” Narrio said. And this time he pushed hard against Will.
    Will stood up.
    Maybe it was time to go.
    “Wait a second,” Kiff said. “We can do this. Test the forces of darkness,” he said, grinning. Kiff slapped a fist into his hand. “Hell, we can do it this Friday, instead of going to the stupid dance.”
    That Friday was St. Jerry’s monthly dance, and they usually all went, even though only Tim ever had a date, his steady. If he was to be believed, he was getting it regularly.
    “Not go to the dance?” Will said. “And do what?”
    Kiff stood up, his shabby trench coat flying around his body like a cape.
    “We’ll do the fucking ceremony. We’ll try to summon a spirit.” Kiff paused. “Or are you guys too punk?”
    “Oh, yeah,” Tim said. “I’m terrified . Absolutely frozen with fear, Kiff. Why the hell don’t you — ?”
    “Then do it, Tim. You always have the big mouth, the big ideas. So let’s do this.”
    Tim shook his head. Will thought he was going to say something. But he didn’t.
    There was a rumble outside. Then another. Will heard the tiny specks of rain hit the glass.
    Kiff waited. Whalen lit another cigarette. Narrio picked up his book bag — the only one of them to actually use an official St. Jerome’s book bag. Bags were strictly for douchy freshmen.

“All I need is someone to come with me now — to help me get inside. Scott’s out of the way. Then we can make plans for Friday.” He paused again. “That’s it.”
    “I suppose,” Whalen said slowly, smiling, “that you can get us some Old Grand-Dad too .   .   . just in case your other spirits fail to materialize.”
    “Damn straight I can,” Kiff said.
    “I can’t go with you,” Tim said. “I have to go with my old lady to meet my old man in the city.”
    Will knew Tim was lying.
    “I — I’ll come Friday,” Narrio said, “but I have to go now. My —” He walked to the door.
    “That’s okay,” Kiff said sympathetically. Everyone knew that Narrio wasn’t the right person for Kiff’s plan.
    Will and the others said goodbye to him as he hurried away.
    The door to the luncheonette slammed .   .   . and then there were four.
    “ I sure as hell can’t go with you,” Whalen said. “If I don’t catch the five o’clock train, I’m fucked.”
    Whalen was prisoner to the Long Island Railroad time tables. He lived somewhere out on the island. In a real big house. He had to catch the right train.
    It was his convenient excuse.
    Then — like a play, as if it were scripted — Kiff turned to Will. And Will thought: Why didn’t I see this coming? What the hell is wrong with me that I didn’t see this screaming toward me from miles away?
    “Will, can you come?” Then all eyes were on Will.
    Like before. When he was in the shower.
    Will shook his head. “I really should go. I mean, there’s the calc test tomorrow. And, shit, it’s raining.”
    He watched their eyes, but they weren’t buying any of his excuses. They saw right to the heart of the matter.
    “Hey, c’mon, Will. You’re the only one that can go.” Kiff waited.
    Will licked his lips. His throat felt dry and tight. “I —”
    “C’mon,” Kiff pleaded.
    “Forget it,” Whalen said.
    A script. A play.
    “Forget it, because he doesn’t have the balls for it. Isn’t that true, Dunnigan?”
    Whalen looked right at him, his grin wide, a mouthful of teeth.
    “Screw you, Whalen.”
    “Got — no — balls —” Whalen said again.
    The rain came down a bit harder.
    Will looked outside the window.
    “Shit. There’s time. You can still get home for dinner,” Tim said. “Your parents don’t give a shit .   .   .”
    Will nodded.
    “Maybe — if you’re too scared — it’s better you didn’t do it,” Whalen said.
    Will looked at them.
    “Okay,” he said. “I’ll do it.”
    Kiff slapped his hands together.
    And before he knew what had happened, he and Kiff were outside,