Read Online Demon's Doorway by Glenn Bullion - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Glenn Bullion
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Boredom, plain and simple. Kevin knew he had no friends. He didn't know what to do with his life. What could a witch do? According to Victoria, anything. That's why everyone was so scared of them. That's why Victoria herself tried to kill him when they first met.
If they were so powerful, why did he feel so pathetic?
He pushed open the curtains and took in downtown Baltimore. It was certainly large, intimidating. The streets weren't too crowded, but he imagined they'd be full in a few hours. It was nothing like Walton. Traffic lights as far as the eye could see, one-way streets, buildings upon buildings.
"What did you get yourself in to?" he muttered aloud.
He wondered if he read his spell-book, and thought of Alex's wings, maybe some kind of spell would pop in his head that would let him get back to Walton. That's how his magic worked. He'd learned about many spells and potions from his family's history, but there were still plenty more out there. Inspiration would come at the weirdest times. Taking a shower, sitting at work, watching TV. Sometimes, the spell came to him all at once. Other times, it came in chunks. An ingredient here, and ingredient there.
He pulled his spell-book out of his travel bag and sat at the desk near the window. It comforted him simply to have the book nearby. It was old, weathered, looked like it belonged in a museum. The tome brought a smile to his face. Family that he'd never met read it, wrote in it. He even added new spells himself, in the language that only a witch could understand. Not only did the spell-book offer magical concoctions, but history . His biological grandfather once killed two werewolves by himself. His grand-uncle was the first witch to create an invisibility potion in under ten ingredients. His great-great-grandmother was witness to one of the first spells done outside a cauldron.
"What do you say?" he said, running a finger along the cover of the book. "Can you get me back home?"
To his surprise, he felt something trying to form in his mind. His eyes brightened as he flipped on the lamp and grabbed the pen and notepad.
Chili powder. Olive oil.
That was all, at least for the time being.
"Great," he said. "Maybe I need to dump chili and olive oil into a pair of red slippers."
He slept for another hour. It only took forty-five minutes to shower and get ready. Kevin gave himself one last look in the mirror. He hadn't worked out since graduating high school, but still looked like he wouldn't be out of place in the weight room. His dress shirt was passable, if a little tight around the collar. He undid the top button, and gave his reflection a nod. His face still had those dimples he hated, but he wasn't an ugly beast. He didn't care about what a church full of strangers thought of him, but he didn't want to embarrass Victoria.
Kevin sighed at his coat, laying across the bed. It was ugly and torn in a few places. It looked terrible, but it was the only coat he could find at the time with plenty of pockets on the inside. He used to carry the witch necessities in a backpack, but a coat was much easier to manage.
There were a few people in the lobby, entering and exiting the hotel. A woman sat behind the main desk, on a phone call. She hung up as she saw Kevin approaching, giving him a bright smile.
"Hi," he said. "What's fun to do around here?"
"You mean besides trying not to get shot?"
His eyes widened. He could only imagine the look on his face, and the woman laughed.
"I'm just joking. Baltimore's not that bad. There's the aquarium, the Inner Harbor, museums, the zoo, plenty to see and do."
"Uh…I was told to ask for something at the front desk. I'm Kevin Mishnar."
She searched under her desk for a moment, and pulled out something wrapped in plastic. Clothes of some kind.
"This is for you. Left by a Victoria. Oooh, someone likes you."
"She's probably just a little too old for me. Thank you."
He followed the signs to the dining hall. Families and
Boredom, plain and simple. Kevin knew he had no friends. He didn't know what to do with his life. What could a witch do? According to Victoria, anything. That's why everyone was so scared of them. That's why Victoria herself tried to kill him when they first met.
If they were so powerful, why did he feel so pathetic?
He pushed open the curtains and took in downtown Baltimore. It was certainly large, intimidating. The streets weren't too crowded, but he imagined they'd be full in a few hours. It was nothing like Walton. Traffic lights as far as the eye could see, one-way streets, buildings upon buildings.
"What did you get yourself in to?" he muttered aloud.
He wondered if he read his spell-book, and thought of Alex's wings, maybe some kind of spell would pop in his head that would let him get back to Walton. That's how his magic worked. He'd learned about many spells and potions from his family's history, but there were still plenty more out there. Inspiration would come at the weirdest times. Taking a shower, sitting at work, watching TV. Sometimes, the spell came to him all at once. Other times, it came in chunks. An ingredient here, and ingredient there.
He pulled his spell-book out of his travel bag and sat at the desk near the window. It comforted him simply to have the book nearby. It was old, weathered, looked like it belonged in a museum. The tome brought a smile to his face. Family that he'd never met read it, wrote in it. He even added new spells himself, in the language that only a witch could understand. Not only did the spell-book offer magical concoctions, but history . His biological grandfather once killed two werewolves by himself. His grand-uncle was the first witch to create an invisibility potion in under ten ingredients. His great-great-grandmother was witness to one of the first spells done outside a cauldron.
"What do you say?" he said, running a finger along the cover of the book. "Can you get me back home?"
To his surprise, he felt something trying to form in his mind. His eyes brightened as he flipped on the lamp and grabbed the pen and notepad.
Chili powder. Olive oil.
That was all, at least for the time being.
"Great," he said. "Maybe I need to dump chili and olive oil into a pair of red slippers."
He slept for another hour. It only took forty-five minutes to shower and get ready. Kevin gave himself one last look in the mirror. He hadn't worked out since graduating high school, but still looked like he wouldn't be out of place in the weight room. His dress shirt was passable, if a little tight around the collar. He undid the top button, and gave his reflection a nod. His face still had those dimples he hated, but he wasn't an ugly beast. He didn't care about what a church full of strangers thought of him, but he didn't want to embarrass Victoria.
Kevin sighed at his coat, laying across the bed. It was ugly and torn in a few places. It looked terrible, but it was the only coat he could find at the time with plenty of pockets on the inside. He used to carry the witch necessities in a backpack, but a coat was much easier to manage.
There were a few people in the lobby, entering and exiting the hotel. A woman sat behind the main desk, on a phone call. She hung up as she saw Kevin approaching, giving him a bright smile.
"Hi," he said. "What's fun to do around here?"
"You mean besides trying not to get shot?"
His eyes widened. He could only imagine the look on his face, and the woman laughed.
"I'm just joking. Baltimore's not that bad. There's the aquarium, the Inner Harbor, museums, the zoo, plenty to see and do."
"Uh…I was told to ask for something at the front desk. I'm Kevin Mishnar."
She searched under her desk for a moment, and pulled out something wrapped in plastic. Clothes of some kind.
"This is for you. Left by a Victoria. Oooh, someone likes you."
"She's probably just a little too old for me. Thank you."
He followed the signs to the dining hall. Families and
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