Page 69 of Sinister

“And yet, there are people who want to do exactly that.”

“Your mentor . . .” My voice trails off. “The ritual. In two days.”

He nods, and my eyes widen.

“You mean they’re trying to summon a demon to make a deal and sell their souls?”

“People want different things, Petra. Different desires, different dreams. Tell me, if someone offered you what you wanted most in the world, wouldn’t you even consider it?”

I shake my head. “No. Not for eternal damnation.”

“Why do you assume that’s the price?” he asks.

“Because they’re demons,” I shoot back. “They’re evil.”

“And I told you, they’re not the demons from your Bible. They’re not fire and brimstone. They’re something else entirely. Powerful, yes, but not always evil. If anything, I find that humans can be far more cruel. More deliberately destructive.

“Just because we don’t understand these beings, just because they’re different from us, doesn’t mean they don’t have their own sense of morality.”

“Why are you defending them?” I ask.

“Why wouldn’t I?” he counters. “The one who healed me asked for nothing in return.”

“But you said he offered something to you.”

“Yes. But I never said he demanded anything in exchange.”

“But if he’s a demon, how could he do something like that out of kindness?”

“Maybe,” he says quietly, “he pitied a boy so hopeless he was ready to die. A boy who’d spent his life being hated, feared, mocked. Do you really think showing compassion to someone like that is evil?”

“No,” I whisper.

“Then there you have it.”

I hesitate. “But that still doesn’t explain what you’re trying to do now. The ritual. Are you being forced into this? Is it your mentor? Is he making you do it?”

“I’m not being forced into anything,” he says, his tone firm. “Quite the opposite. Back when I was studying at Harvard, during my first year, I started looking into these entities, asking questions others were too afraid or too proud to ask. Some people didn’t like it. But there were others, like my mentor, who had been asking the same questions long before I ever did.”

He leans back slightly.

“He took me under his wing, and together, we started to study. Who are these beings? These powerful entities whose blood, just one drop, can heal a person from the inside out. And if they can do that, what else are they capable of? Where do they come from? Why are they here? Wouldn’t you want to know the answers?”

“Yes,” I admit softly. “But . . .”

“I was drawn to your curiosity, Petra. Because I’m curious, too. I want to know more than what we’re spoon-fed—by our families, our communities, our schools. We’re taught to accept what we’re told and never dig deeper. But if we don’t ask questions, we’ll never know.”

“Maybe,” I say hesitantly. “But sometimes it’s better not to know. Knowledge is powerful, sure, but it can also open the door to things we’re not ready for. What if you accidentally unleash something terrible?”

“And that,” he replies, “that unknown—is exactly what people are looking for.” He meets my gaze. “There are dozens of students here, just like me, who want answers. They want to understand what lies beneath the surface.”

“They want to sell their souls,” I snap.

He shrugs. “Some do. Some want things that feel impossible to get otherwise—and would strike a bargain with something that could give it to them. Others, like me, are driven purely by curiosity.”

“But what happens if someone does sell their soul? What if you summon something, and it won’t leave? What if it stays in our town and starts consuming it?”

He smiles. “Maybe that’s the point.”