One month ago, Kyle had been sure it was only a matter of when, not if, he was going to be fired. But amazingly, not one of his students had let slip that their seemingly meek History teacher was host to a short-tempered, foul-mouthed demon. And for that, Kyle was infinitely grateful. His students had taken Ryka’s threats seriously, and he was relieved knowing he wouldn’t have to watch the demon collect their souls.

Now he was mostly just thankful that some of the tension in his first-period class was diminishing. For the first two weeks after Ryka’s appearance, teaching hadn’t been easy. Sure, his students had been quiet and attentive. But if Kyle so much as sneezed, he’d look up to find every last one of them cowering under their desks. And the day he’d come in with a headache, he’d made the mistake of rubbing his temples. When he’d turned back around to ask the class a question, he’d found them huddled together in the back of the room, clinging to each other and praying for salvation.

The only thing that hadn’t changed much in the last month was the nagging guilt he felt for letting Ryka loose on a room full of tenth graders. Sitting at his kitchen table, attempting to write up an exam for the following day, Kyle found he couldn’t stop reflecting on that fateful morning.

You need to get fucking trashed, stud.

“No, I don’t, and please -”

Ask all you want. I’m gonna keep calling you that. Because it’s true.

“Whatever. But I just feel so bad.”

Ryka scoffed. Why? I did it, not you. And if I could have come out on my own, I would have done it a fuck of a lot sooner. They deserved it.

“Still.”

Stop being such a pussy. It’s not like that was the one thing that was going to stop you from passing through those Pearly Gates when you finally croak.

Kyle groaned. It seemed to please Ryka to constantly remind him that Heaven had been forever closed off to him. “I know, I know. I betrayed you-know-who when I agreed to be your host.”

It still burns to say it, doesn’t it? But you really don’t seem bothered about that part.

“I’m not, I guess. At least I’ll know someone when I get to Hell.” The proud smile Ryka projected into Kyle’s mind was almost enough to make him laugh. Almost. “I’m not worried about what’s going to happen when our time here is up.” Not entirely true, but not something to concern himself over at this particular moment. “I’m worried about the things I’m doing while I’m still here.”

‘Worried?’ You don’t do anything, so how can you worry? You may be the sexiest thing alive, but you’re boring. You’re damned whatever you do; you may as well take advantage of it.

“You’re the one who picked a high-school history teacher to be your host. So don’t blame me if you’re bored.”

If I say something that makes you feel better, can I come out? There had been one other benefit to allowing Ryka out in the classroom – since that time, he had stopped appearing as frequently, and when he did, he often asked first. It seemed he was finally starting to calm down again.

“You’re welcome to try.”

By letting me out to scare the piss out of those little brats, you saved them from going to Hell. They’ll change, and in the end, their good deeds will outweigh the bad shit they did to you. And stop some of them from doing a lot worse.

Dumbfounded, Kyle stared at the test he was trying to write. Aside from not being tormented on a daily basis, he hadn’t been able to see any good in subjecting his students to a lecture from a demon. “Really?”

I can’t lie to you, Master. Now hurry up and get naked.

***

As usual, when Kyle walked into the teacher’s lounge the next morning, the room went silent. The other teachers certainly appreciated whatever it was he’d done to tame notoriously rambunctious students, but it was also clear that they had serious suspicions about how he’d managed the feat. When asked, he’d mumbled something incoherent and walked away. Even if he could bring himself to tell the truth, who would believe him?

“Ready for parent-teacher night tomorrow?” Adam Brisette, one of the English teachers, asked. Lately, he’d been the one to break the awkward silences that followed Kyle.

“I suppose.” None of the teachers were looking forward to it, but Kyle had been losing sleep, fretting over the questions he was likely going to be fielding from period one’s parents.

Don’t worry. I’ll be there if things get out of hand.

“That’s exactly what I am worried about,” he said into his coffee cup. No one seemed to notice. And if they did, the morning bell provided a convenient distraction. Taking his mug with him, Kyle headed off to his classroom.

Twenty pairs of eyes watched with great apprehension as he set his drink and briefcase down on his desk. And he knew it wasn’t the test they were anxious about. They thought he was a walking bomb, set to go off at any moment. They weren’t far off the mark.

“Good morning,” he said, hoping that if he sounded cheerful, they’d be put at ease. They echoed the greeting with wavering voices. So that hadn’t worked. “Put your books away; I’m handing out the exam. If you finish early, you can start reading the next chapter.”

Although Kyle had plenty to keep him busy while they took on their tests, he found that it was actually too quiet for him to be able to concentrate. It was oppressive.

Bitch, bitch, bitch. First you get pissed because they’re talking during tests. Now they’re too quiet? Make up your mind.

Scowling, Kyle pinched the bridge of his nose. Two minutes into the class, and he could already feel a migraine coming on. Ryka knew he couldn’t answer, and from his tone, Kyle knew the demon intended to take full advantage of the situation.

You know me too well. I guess that was bound to happen. Oh, by the way, I need more smokes. And beer. Stop on the way home.

In an attempt to block out the chattering, Kyle started leafing through the contents of his briefcase. Ryka wasn’t amused, and even though he couldn’t fully control his host, he could still force Kyle to close the briefcase. A disturbing new revelation. Pay attention to me!

“So needy,” Kyle breathed. A couple of the students in the front row glanced up at him, but returned their attention to their tests when they saw he was still fully human.

That’s better. By the way, I’ve been thinking. You only have that same dream every night, huh? I’m glad it’s about us, but that must be getting pretty old. While Ryka babbled on, Kyle reached for his coffee. He realized too late that that was a mistake. So, I think I can give you a different dream. How does this one look?

The image Ryka had concocted for Kyle’ enjoyment only lasted for a moment, but Kyle thought that was far too long. Because Ryka had shown him the two of them – back in their own bodies – in a bath overflowing with bubbles. Thanks to the side of the tub, Kyle couldn’t see much, but what he could see was enough. Himself, head thrown back in ecstasy, while Ryka nuzzled into his throat.

Even as he choked on his coffee, Ryka’s laughter echoed in his head. This time, everyone in the class looked up. “Excuse me,” he managed, turning away so no one could see how absolutely scandalized he looked.

I’m offended. I had so many more, too.

“Knock it off.”

What’s the matter, stud? Was that too much?

“Yes, it was.”

“Um, Mr. Saunders?”

Kyle spun his chair back around, blushing even more now that he had been caught talking to Ryka. Mackenzie stood on the other side of his desk, test clutched so tightly in her hands that her knuckles were white. It was going to take some effort to unfold the paper enough to correct it later. “I’m sorry. What’s up?” He thought he might have been nearly as uncomfortable as she was.

“I’m done.” She threw the exam onto his desk, but seemed otherwise unable to move.

“Is there something else?”

The question looked like it brought her to the verge of tears. “My parents can’t make it tomorrow night … to the parent-teacher conference. My Dad wanted to know if he could meet with you some other time.”

“That’s fine. I’ll give you my personal number. Tell him he can call and set up an appointment.” Her eyes darted away as he handed her a post-it with his home phone number. And he knew instantly what she was worried about. “I’ll be the one answering the phone. I promise.”

***

“Please don’t make me break a promise,” Kyle pleaded.

Too bad. This is punishment.

“For what?”

If you don’t know, I’m not telling.

“You didn’t just say that.” There was no reply. “Fine, then. Just not too late, please. I have those meetings tomorrow night at school.”

Obviously, Ryka wasn’t talking to him, because he didn’t bother to respond. And before he even realized what was going on, Kyle found himself standing in front of the mirror, with no word of warning, or any of Ryka’s usual remarks about enjoying watching Kyle strip down. The transformation hadn’t begun yet, but already an unholy growl was working its way out of Kyle’s throat.

If that hadn’t been enough to convince Kyle something was upsetting the demon, the manner in which Ryka decided to undress was a dead giveaway. With nails that were growing out at an alarming rate, Kyle/Ryka literally tore off his shirt. Kyle watched with regret as shreds of the most expensive button-down he owned fluttered to the ground.

Though he wasn’t nearly as concerned about his clothes as he was about what Ryka did to his glasses. They were tossed in the general direction of the coffee table, but Kyle couldn’t track them to make sure they weren’t broken. Because he suddenly found himself staring down at the carpet.

Ryka actually roared as his wings unfurled, and when he managed to lift his head to look at his reflection, blood was dribbling down the sides of his face. More crimson trails ran down his arms and sides from where his wings had sprouted.

The blood, although awful, wasn’t nearly as disturbing as the look on Ryka’s face. Usually when he summoned himself this way, there was only spite and mischief in those red eyes. This time, Kyle saw pain, and he had a strong feeling it wasn’t just physical. As if to confirm, Ryka hissed through clenched teeth, dropping his gaze to where he had sunk his claws into the carpet. And into the floor underneath, judging by the splinters jutting up through the berber.

Ryka? Are you okay? Hey, listen. Whatever I did, I’m really sorry.

After struggling to his feet, something the demon managed with no small amount of irritated grumbling, Ryka stared hard into the mirror. Kyle knew that angry glare - narrowed eyes alight with rage - was meant for him. “What kind of half-assed apology is that? Fuck you. I’m done with you for the night.”

Wait. Ryka? Come on ….

If the demon could still hear him, he was refusing to answer. For Kyle, there was no hiding from his parasite - Ryka could hear all his thoughts. Their contract didn’t work both ways, though. All Kyle could do now was watch; he was completely cut off from his other half, unable to tell what he was thinking. And that was how Ryka wanted it, Kyle realized with a pang.

Now free to do as he pleased without interruption, Ryka grabbed a twelve-pack of beer out of the fridge, a gallon of “Death by Chocolate” ice cream from the freezer, and headed for the bathroom. While he watched the tub fill, he started in on the ice cream, shoveling heaping spoonfuls into his mouth.

He carried his snack into the bath with him. Kyle watched the water turn red only seconds after Ryka had settled himself, and even as a passenger felt his stomach somersault at the sight. Not since the night he had become Ryka’s host had the transformation made either of them bleed. It didn’t seem to bother Ryka, though. His only concern now seemed to be eating his ice cream as fast as possible.

Ryka? What’s the matter? Come on, tell me. Please?

Again, Ryka ignored him. At least, that was how it seemed at first. Then, with a tremendous sigh, Ryka set down the carton and leaned back in the tub. His wings didn’t fit – one was folded up against the wall, the other was half-crumpled on the floor. That was normal. What wasn’t was his tail curling around one of his legs. A sight which made Kyle think back to when he had first met Ryka. It was something the demon had done frequently right after they’d sealed their contract. Demon body language, Kyle had learned, for feeling insecure.

I really screwed up, huh? You haven’t looked this miserable since the first time I met you.

For a moment, Kyle was sure Ryka was going to open up to him. But Ryka only shook his head and mumbled an unenthusiastic, “Fuck off.”

***

Thanks to the rotating class schedule at school, Kyle had a free period first thing the next day. He used it to nap in his car. Ryka hadn’t been up late, but he had bled an awful lot.

Kyle had come to overnight on the bathroom floor, covered in bloody bath water. Choking back vomit, he’d crawled to the shower and huddled under the spray for close to an hour. Even that hadn’t been enough time for him to feel clean, but he’d dried off, dressed, and forced himself to investigate the mess.

There had only been a few flecks of crimson in the kitchen, even fewer on the living room carpet. The bathroom was a different story. Aside from their bloody body-print on the floor, there was the tub.

No doubt because he was still angry, Ryka hadn’t let the water out, and Kyle’d had to use a curtain rod to finagle the drain open - he couldn’t work up the nerve to actually stick his hand in. But it wasn’t just the sight of all that red that had made him dizzy. Ryka’s blood was his blood, and he was sure he was at least a few pints short.

An angry rapping on the driver side window woke him from a dreamless sleep. It was Ms. Richardson. She always caught him at his worst. Though if she was out in the lot, it was more like she’d been determined to catch him that way. “Mr. Saunders, first period is almost over. And I think you have a freshman class second period, right?”

“Oh, thanks. I do.”

Stifling a yawn, he got out of the car and followed her back into the building. “If you don’t feel well, we can have someone else watch the class.”

“I’m fine. Besides, conferences are tonight. I can’t miss those.”

“True.” She glanced over her shoulder at him, and he felt his stomach drop to his feet. She definitely suspected something. “Are you sure you’re okay? You always seem so tired.”

“Insomnia,” he lied. “And I try not to take anything. I don’t need the side-effects.”

“I see.”

With that, she left him standing outside the door to his classroom. His freshman World Cultures class, the only ninth-grade class he taught, was well-behaved, and they were all sitting in their seats waiting for him. Normally, it would have been the meetings with their parents he would have been dreading. Freshmen didn’t always adjust well, and it showed in their grades. But he was far more worried about the first-period sophomore class. He wasn’t sure how he was going to explain their sudden vast improvement.

It was a fear that nagged him most of the day. Though it still didn’t compare to how concerned he was about Ryka’s behavior the night before. There had been times when Ryka hadn’t had much to say to him, though those times were few and far between, but never had Ryka purposely ignored him for so long. Just as it had seemed too quiet in class the day before, it was now far too quiet in his head.

Somehow, he made it through the day. He thought it would have been better with even one completely inappropriate remark from his other half, but it was starting to seem like that may never happen again. He knew that - unless they took a forbidden shortcut - only God or Satan had the power to separate them, but he wondered if Ryka could petition to be given his own body back sooner.

“So, how long are we going to be like this?” Kyle had asked early on. Their intertwined fates were one of the few things he had dared inquire about. And doing so had made him hesitate to learn more.

Hmm, well, let’s just say you’ll be around more than long enough to find out whether or not all that global warming stuff is total bullshit. Spoiler alert: it’s not. You’re all fucked.

Someone knocking on the classroom door pulled Kyle’s attention back to the present. He glanced at his watch and was shocked to find it was already five o’clock. He had fallen asleep at his desk. “Come on in,” he called, trying to fix his hair.

Mr. and Mrs. Holt, Nick’s parents, walked into the room. Behind them, he could see the parents of Nick’s classmates forming a line. And none of them looked happy. But he plastered on a smile, and hoped that he’d survive until nine o’clock.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

***

Feeling like he’d been dragged behind a truck for four hours, Kyle collapsed face down on his bed. He’d made the mistake of inviting all of period one’s parents into the room at once, hoping it would expedite things. It had only made them worse. But he had discovered exactly where all his students had learned their bad manners.

At no point had he been allowed to defend himself - his students’ guardians wanted nothing more than to shout blame at him, scream at him for using some unknown, but surely unsavory, teaching method to scare their children into obedience. With no other choice, he’d taken the abuse. He’d found himself wishing Ryka would show up and save him, but there was still only silence from the demon.

Exhausted to the point of near immobility, Kyle struggled out of his clothes and fell asleep without ever getting under the covers.

He was halfway through reliving his first encounter with Ryka when an incessant banging woke him. The front door, he realized. Someone was trying to break it down. Cursing under his breath, he put on his glasses and checked the clock next to his bed. Midnight. If they were a burglar, they were terribly inefficient. But very committed, since they seemed to have no intention of stopping. Supposing he should investigate, he put on his robe and shuffled to the living room.

No sooner did he unlock the door than it was thrown open, sending him staggering backwards. Shocked awake, it still took him a few moments before he recognized the man, fists clenched at his sides, looming on his doorstep.

It was Mackenzie’s father, Keith, Kyle now recalled. Kyle had only met him once before, briefly, and the other man had left quite an impression. But Kyle recognized him from his picture, which was hanging outside the gym. He’d been the much-admired star of his high school and college football teams, and he certainly still looked the part. At six-foot-five and well-muscled out – both thanks to Ryka - Kyle was by no means small, but Keith barely fit in the doorway. They may have been a match for height, but Keith was far bulkier.

Without a word, he stepped into the house, murder in his eyes. His face was a blotchy red, with angry veins already bulging in his neck. And he reeked of alcohol. “I thought you were going to call,” was all Kyle could say.

“What did you do to my kid?” Keith screamed, and Kyle flinched away. But it seemed that Keith didn’t want an explanation so much as he wanted revenge. Kyle didn’t even have a chance to react before Keith took a swing at him. He saw the other man’s fist, then half his world went dark as his left eye swelled shut. His other winced closed when he saw Keith preparing to strike again.

It felt like a battering ram colliding with his jaw, and his feet went out from under him. Stars spun overhead as he stared up at the ceiling. Several teeth felt loose, and he gagged as blood pooled in his mouth.

Trying to think of a way to save himself from what was sure to be a severe beating, Kyle struggled onto his hands and knees. That was as far as he made it before Keith kicked him in the stomach, forcing him back onto the floor. Not that Kyle was foolish enough to try that again, but just to make sure, Keith took another shot at his ribs. It felt like he was wearing steel-toed boots.

As he gasped for breath, Kyle thought it must be the pain that made him feel numb, because he couldn’t understand how he was suddenly trying to get back on his feet. The innate desire to curl up and play dead was overpowering, and although he was sure self-preservation should have been winning out over all else, his body just wouldn’t stay down. Through one wide eye, he watched his own arms jerkily prop him back up. And quickly realized it wasn’t his will being obeyed. He shrugged off his robe just in time for Ryka to finish summoning himself.

Glowering at the intruder with red eyes ablaze, Ryka stood and spread his wings. And Kyle realized why they’d been bleeding – they’d grown. The living room was twelve feet across, and the tips of Ryka’s wings, which he’d previously been able to fully stretch open, now brushed the walls. Kyle didn’t have much of a chance to be impressed - all of Ryka’s focus was on his prey.

“Human filth! Don’t even think about touching my Master again!” he roared.

To Ryka, the delicious aroma of fear was already overpowering that of the booze. Eyes wide, Keith slowly backed toward the front door. But it slammed shut long before he was close enough to even reach for the knob. “What in God’s name are you?”

Ryka snarled, a sound that seemed to cause Kyle’s attacker actual physical pain. Face contorted in agony, Keith put his hands over his ears. “In Satan’s name, I think you mean. And I’m here to collect on the debt you just incurred by hurting my Master.”

Even though Ryka and Kyle shared the same body, Ryka’s strength was far greater than his human host’s. With a malicious grin, he wrapped one hand around Keith’s throat and lifted the man off his feet. They dangled inches above the carpet, and Keith ineffectually pried at Ryka’s hand, trying to loosen the demon’s grip. Undeterred, Ryka squeezed harder.

When his prey was turning blue, Ryka threw Keith to the ground, kicking him onto his side, just as Keith had done to Kyle. “Did I tell you there’s interest?” Ryka hissed, aiming a second blow at the man’s ribs. It pleased him tremendously to hear bones cracking as his bare foot connected with Keith’s side over and over again.

Ryka, that’s enough. Stop!

“Why? He wasn’t going to.”

Please, Ryka. For me.

“His soul is rightfully Hell’s. I don’t think they’ll mind if he’s early.” As he spoke, Ryka directed his gaze to the far wall. A nightlight in the kitchen threw just enough light to make his shadow appear there. It was hunched over Keith’s prone form, hungrily eyeing their victim.

I’m begging you. Please don’t kill him.

Disappointed, Ryka knelt down next to Keith. He grabbed the man’s face and turned it so that Keith had no choice but to look at him. Ryka’s claws were out again, and they gouged deep holes in Keith’s skin. Blood oozed from the wounds, staining Keith’s cheeks and Ryka’s fingers.

“My Master forbids me from taking your life. You’re lucky one of us believes in mercy. But know this: nothing you can do between now and the time of your death will be enough to save you from eternal damnation. And do you know why? Because two years won’t be enough time to make up for everything you’ve done. So keep that in mind, and remember that praying won’t stop that heart attack.”

Tears streamed down Keith’s face as he realized what Ryka was telling him. All he could do was attempt to nod; his face was still firmly in the monster’s grasp.

Reluctantly, Ryka pulled his hand away, raking claws through soft flesh. “Now get out of my sight before I change my mind.” Head bowed, Keith dragged himself to the door. Ryka watched with a smile as he crawled out into the front yard. Only when he heard a car driving away did he allow himself to sink to his knees.

“Sorry, stud, but I’m almost there.” Before Kyle could even ask what Ryka meant, the demon was plunging bloody hands down the front of the pajama pants Kyle had been wearing. He very quickly finished what Keith’s terror had started. Once satisfied, he leaned back against the couch, relaxing his wings by his side.

Ryka! What –

Any judgment Kyle wanted to make was stopped short by a vicious snarl. Taken aback, Kyle didn’t offer anything else, waiting instead for the demon’s growl to quiet. I was just hoping that you could clean yourself up. Please. Already, he could imagine the feel of someone else’s blood on him – some now in very intimate places – and was overwhelmed with anxiety.

There was no answer, but with a heavy sigh, Ryka got to his feet and headed to the kitchen to do as Kyle had asked. That task was accomplished, he resumed his previous position. The tip of his tail was still swishing angrily across the rug, but he was otherwise still.

When it seemed like Ryka was finally calmed down, Kyle managed a contrite, Thank you for saving me.

“Were you afraid I wouldn’t?”

A little. You didn’t talk to me all day.

“You deserved it.”

I don’t understand. Please tell me why you were moping in the bathtub and inhaling sweets like some heartbroken teenage girl.

As if he were avoiding Kyle’s gaze, Ryka began studying the carpet. He pulled his knees in close to his chest and wrapped his tail around his ankles. “I know I’m supposed to be the embodiment of evil and all that. But demons still have all the same emotions as humans.” Kyle very much wanted to hear about these feelings, but Ryka once again lost patience with the subject. “You’re an asshole. Don’t me make say stupid stuff like this. Especially not when I’ve said it to you before.”

Said what before? Oh, come on. Just spit it out.

“I’m not going to.”

Won’t it make you feel better just to say?

“So you can blow me off again? No thanks.”

Well, if you decide you want to tell, you know I have no choice but to listen.

“What a dick.”

You know that I actually do like you, right?

Ryka mumbled something Kyle couldn’t understand before hauling himself to his feet. With a yawn, he started for the bedroom. “By the way, sorry about the bathtub thing the other morning.”

That’s okay, I -

“I guess I didn’t make it obvious enough. How’s this?” This time, there was no tub to block the view. The two of them were on the bed, Kyle on all fours while Ryka enthusiastically fucked him. “Or do you prefer it this way?” The demon showed him another option, with their roles reversed. As Ryka passed the mirror, he turned and winked at his reflection. “Sweet dreams, stud.”

***

With his face bruised and swollen from the midnight attack, Kyle had considered calling in sick. He had hoped a cold shower would help with the swelling, but it really hadn’t. When he checked his reflection in the rearview mirror upon arriving at school, what he saw made him cringe. His left eye was almost completely swollen shut, his jaw wasn’t in much better shape, and the rest face was a sick green color. At least no one would be able to see his stomach, which was mottled purple and black. None of his teeth had fallen out, but it hurt to breathe, though not as much as he’d imagined it should have.

Knowing that Ryka was still angry with him, he tried begging for some help. “Is there anything you can do, Ryka? At least some of the swelling? So I can see ….”

No, was the curt reply, followed by an unsettling, it’s evidence.

Somehow, Kyle made it through the crowded halls without anyone noticing his injuries. But he couldn’t teach a class with his head down and his jacket collar pulled up over most of his face. “Good morning, everyone,” he mumbled, the best he could do with a bruised jaw.

“Holy shit, Mr. Saunders, what happened to your face?”

“Language, Nick. Um, I had an accident.”

“That looks really bad. Maybe you should go to the hospital.”

“Was it a car accident?”

“It looks like someone tried to kick your ass.”

Kyle shook his head, but couldn’t help but smile. For the first time in a month, they were talking to him like he was a regular human being, not some half-demon monster. It had taken getting a beating to convince them that he wasn’t something to be scared of. And it warmed his heart to hear honest concern in their voices. Maybe they didn’t hate him as much as he’d thought.

“Really, it’s fine. It looks bad, but I heal pretty quickly.”

You mean I heal pretty quickly.

He forced himself not to reply, and instead focused on getting the class settled. They quieted down as soon as he started taking attendance, but he got partway through the roster and felt his heart stop. Mackenzie was absent.

“No Mackenzie?” he asked casually.

“I haven’t seen her,” her friend Melissa told him.

A thousand horrible scenarios were forming in his mind, and he was wondering which one was going to come true. Well, I did break most of that bastard’s ribs. She’s probably at the hospital with him … or something.

Trying not to show his worry, Kyle finished taking attendance, then turned to start writing the day’s lesson plan on the board. He was stopped halfway by the arrival of the vice-principal, Mrs. Vargas. Her eyes went wide when she caught sight of his wounds, but her surprise was short-lived. He knew instantly what her visit was about, and Ryka’s earlier words now made perfect sense. “Mr. Saunders, you’re needed in the principal’s office.”

“Um, right.” He left his class with an assignment, and followed her down to the principal’s office. It was a long walk, made even worse by the fact that she wouldn’t look at or speak to him.

Don’t worry - if you go to jail, I won’t let anyone make you their bitch.

It wasn’t a comforting thought, mostly because he was half-expecting the police to be waiting for him in the main office. He was wrong about the cops, but the reality was just as bad. Mackenzie was sitting in the principal’s office, next to her father, who was in a wheelchair. Red-stained bandages were wound around his neck, and the bruising on his chest was creeping over the neckline of his shirt. Across from them, seated behind his desk and looking at Kyle with barely contained fury, was the principal, Dr. Taylor.

“Mr. Saunders, do you care to explain yourself?”

Cuts right to the chase, huh?

Kyle waited for Mrs. Vargas to close the door behind her before even attempting to reply. “I, I … it was self defense.” He motioned feebly at his bruised face, which paled in comparison to Keith’s injuries. “I didn’t mean for that to happen,” he motioned at Keith, who looked somewhere between terrified and outraged. Maybe he thought he’d imagined parts of what had happened the night before, Kyle realized. He had been quite drunk.

“I need to hear the whole story, Mr. Saunders. Including what happened in your class that has upset your students so badly.”

This was what he had been waiting for. He was finally going to get fired. And he’d never be able to teach again. Not caring how pathetic it looked, Kyle let a few tears fall. He’d never wanted this to happen.

Master, don’t let them push you around. Tell that prick how awful those kids were. Tell him this other asshole practically broke your door down at midnight. If not, let me tell them.

For a moment, he met Mackenzie’s eyes. Upset as he was, it was hard for him to read the emotion on her face. He looked away when he saw Dr. Taylor getting out of his chair. The principal took a few steps toward him, hand outstretched. And Kyle panicked.

“Ryka, servant of the Great Kingdom of Hell, your host and master calls you forth.” The words were out of his mouth before he even realized he’d wanted to say them.

The transformation was nearly instantaneous. Ryka stood seething in the principal’s office, the tattered remains of Kyle’s second-most expensive shirt hanging off his shoulders. “One more step and I’ll rip your fucking arm right off,” he growled.

All color drained from the principal’s face, and he sank back into his seat, unable to tear his gaze from the creature that stood before him. “If you want to stare, look here,” Ryka said, pointing at his eyes. “You can watch your own death.”

A wicked grin spread across Ryka’s face as Dr. Taylor leaned closer, completely entranced. Behind him, his shadow wrung its clawed hands together. Though it seemed torn between the principal and Keith, who was quietly trying to wheel himself toward the exit.

“I wouldn’t go anywhere if I were you,” Ryka told him, reluctantly turning away from the principal, who was shaking off the effects of staring too long into the demon’s eyes. “Maybe I should have ripped your throat out last night. I can’t believe you had the audacity to try to blame my Master for this. You’re the one who dares show up in the middle of the night, with every intention of killing him.” He shot a withering glare over his shoulder at Dr. Taylor, hissing out an embittered, “And you want to know what happened to this brat? Her and the rest of those little fuckers thought they could hurt him, too.”

“Mr. Saunders?” Mrs. Vargas whispered. She had fallen to her knees, and was clinging to the principal’s desk for support.

“Do I look like Mr. Saunders to you?” She shook her head. “This one knows who I am.” He directed this at Mackenzie, who was rocking back and forth in her chair, legs pulled tight to her chest.

“I swear I didn’t know my Dad was going to do this! I really thought he was just going to call. Please don’t hurt us!”

Ryka ....

“Leave,” Ryka told her. Without hesitation, she got up and ran for the door. Keith looked after her, bewildered. “Such devotion in your child, hmm? You weren’t looking to defend her, you were just looking for someone new to abuse. You’re a lousy father. I know all your sins, so don’t try to deny it. I already told you your fate, didn’t I?” His complexion already corpse-like, Keith managed a small nod. “Now, I’d forget all about trying to ruin my Master. Or I’ll have to break your other arm, too.”

“O-other arm?” Keith stammered.

Showing all his teeth, he grabbed Keith’s right wrist and fully extended the man’s arm. His smile only broadened as he turned Keith’s arm so his palm was facing down. “Yes, your other arm.” And then he pushed down on Keith’s elbow with his free hand. The wet snap of fracturing bone was the only noise to be heard in the small room. At least until the pain set in a moment later, and Keith screamed.

“Delicious.” It was, at least while it lasted. Because it was only moments later that Keith slipped into unconsciousness. “Get rid of him.” This was directed at Mrs. Vargas, who had been attempting to get back to her feet. She crumpled under the weight of the demon’s attention, but sprang back up when he growled. “Move it. I’ll spare you for now, but just keep in mind, the same thing applies to you. None of this is Master’s fault. If there’s a problem, you’re more than welcome to take it up with me.”

Mrs. Vargas muttered profuse apologies and prayers. Only when the demon turned his gaze elsewhere could she find the nerve to stagger over to Keith. He was coming to again, moaning in pain as she pushed him out of the room.

“And now it’s just you and me, Mr. Principal. You must know what I am by now.”

Dr. Taylor nodded once. “What are you going to do to me?”

“Nothing, as long as you don’t do anything to my Master. You let him keep his job, and keep quiet about all this, and you get to keep living. Sound good?”

“Very.”

“I’m glad you’re a reasonable man. My Master hates the sight of blood, and I know he wouldn’t be pleased having to watch me disembowel you.” Ryka glanced over his shoulder at his shadow, who was fixated on Dr. Taylor. “Not today, sorry,” he told it. It whined and sank into a dark puddle on the floor.

Dr. Taylor watched it, but quickly returned his attention to the monster still standing before him. “I’m going, Mr. Principal. But I’ll still know if you fuck with him. Just something to keep in mind.” Another small nod from the principal. “Now get the fuck out.”

With his final order obeyed, Ryka retreated, and the body he shared with Kyle slumped to the floor. Master, you need to wake up.

“Ryka. You shouldn’t have ….” Kyle felt he didn’t have the strength to finish the thought. He couldn’t even open his eyes.

But you called me. Of course I was going to protect you. Now, up you get, stud. You need to get back to class.

Slowly, Kyle cracked open his eyes. He sat up carefully, feeling the room spin around him. It took a few minutes of studying for him to realize he had been lying down on the floor of the principal’s office. He was alone, but the door had been left ajar, and he could hear voices out in the hall. “We found an extra shirt in his desk. Can we leave it here?”

“Is that Tommy?” Kyle wondered aloud.

Sounds like it. That girl must have told them what was going on.

“You’re not to do anything about it.”

Yes, Master. But besides, they already know about me.

“That’s true. I can’t believe they’d bring me a change of clothes. What the hell is going on?”

They like you now, I guess. I didn’t know getting your ass beat made you cool.

Kyle thought Ryka didn’t sound very happy about the fact that his students no longer hated him. “Jealous?” he teased.

So what if I am?

“Ryka? Is this about what you wouldn’t tell me the other day? Come on, just say it. What’s bothering you? I don’t like seeing you upset.”

You’re an idiot. Get up and get back to work. My vices don’t pay for themselves, you know.

Sighing, Kyle got to his feet. “Fine. I guess I owe you that much. Now where the hell did my glasses go?”

It took a little searching, a task made all the more difficult by the fact that, without his glasses, he could hardly see. Eventually, he found them under the principal’s desk. With great reluctance, he left the office, which opened into a small hallway, then the reception area. As he thought, Tommy was waiting. “Wow, you look a lot better.”

Kyle caught sight of his reflection in the window behind the secretary’s desk. His face was no longer swollen, and the bruises were barely visible. And he realized he could breathe without pain again. “I guess so.”

“Um, here.” Tommy handed him the garment, then left, presumably headed back to the classroom. Kyle changed, dropping the remains of his other shirt in the nearest wastebasket. The secretary watched with a nervous smile. She certainly would have heard what was going on in Dr. Taylor’s office.

He was about to ask where Dr. Taylor and the others had gone, but she stopped him. “There are still twenty minutes left in first period. You should get back to class.” For a brief moment, he swore he could smell her fear, and he realized she was very politely trying to get him to leave.

“Right.”

In the deserted halls, he felt free to talk to Ryka. “Thanks for fixing up my face.”

Don’t thank me. You looked like ass, and since this is my body, too, it reflected badly on me. I was doing myself a favor.

“You’re just so kind.” It was meant to be sarcastic, but Kyle knew it didn’t sound that way. Ryka may have been vain, but he was just as loyal. And he knew that Ryka really hadn’t liked seeing him hurt, and really had been trying to give him another way out of the confrontation. The evidence just hadn’t been in his favor.

Some demon I am, huh?

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, you’ve successfully horrified a significant proportion of the people at school. Maybe next time we can shake things up in the teacher’s lounge. After that, maybe we’ll just hold an assembly. I wouldn’t want to leave anyone out.”

I’d be careful what you say. I’ve never seen anyone with worse luck than you.

“You think I’m unlucky?” He could sense Ryka’s confusion, and he laughed. “I don’t feel unlucky. I’ve always got you to help me out. Damning myself may have been the best thing I’ve ever done. I got a friend out of the deal.”

Master ….

Kyle stopped outside the door to his classroom. “I hope it’s not too backwards to say this, but you’re a good demon, Ryka.”

There was a moment of silence, and Kyle thought he’d said something wrong. At least until Ryka finally did answer. Well, as far as hosts go … at least you’re good-looking. You’re an idiot, but a rather attractive one. So I guess it could be worse.

Coming from a creature that had spent the first few hundred years of its life torturing the souls of the damned, Kyle thought that was a rather nice thing to say. Although, again, it was Ryka’s tone, not his words, that brought a smile to his face. “Fine, I’ll buy you some ice cream, too. Kiss-ass.”

Sucker.