Convoke

Chapter 5

Tom saw the soul stripper on Sunday afternoon. A ripple of unrest had travelled through the pub. He soon overheard a local talking about a demon who sat alone outside. Tom was working with his mother, who nodded in agreement that he should go and check it out.

Ezrakhell sat at a round wooden table with an open Carlsberg-branded parasol, sheltering him from the light rain. "Hi," Tom said, interrupting his sombre silence. Ezrakhell turned his head with his hood still covering most of his face. "Want a drink?"

"Strongbow," Ezrakhell grumbled, searching his pockets before giving Tom three pound coins.

Tom returned with a pint, quickly rubbing the cold out of his fingers. The rain was pouring heavier. He noticed how the demon wasn't reading this time and thought back to the argument he had seen on Friday.

He turned away when the soul stripper continued to watch the distant fields. Tom headed towards the pub, hesitated, and turned back around. "Hey uh . . . I could probably help you out with the book situation."

Ezrakhell turned his head again. "What?" he questioned, and Tom sat opposite him to get out of the rain.

"I was in the village on Friday. I saw how you were banned from the library. But I could get books for you if you wanted?"

"Why?"

Tom shrugged. "Why not?" He imagined the demon's eyes staring at him in confusion, because the hood still covered them. "I don't mind. Just tell me what book you want, and I'll get it for you. I have a library card."

A moment of silence fell between them. Tom ignored the locals sheltering by the door, nudging each other, and nodding in his direction. "I'm not ending the contract."

"Oh." Tom rubbed his ring finger, shaking his head. "I don't care about that. Your full name is none of my business."

"Then what do you want?"

"To help you with whatever you're doing."

"Why?"

"Why do I need a reason?" Tom crossed his arms, but really it was to stop himself from shivering.

"There's always a reason."

Tom tilted his head, trying to get a better look at him, but the demon glanced down. "You want to read books, I can get you those books." Tom shrugged again. "I just hate the way you're treated. I don't know if you've noticed, but we run one of the only demon-friendly pubs in a fifty-mile radius. It matters to us that you guys get to live a life too."

Ezrakhell stared down for a long time. Tom lost hope that he was going to respond. He got up to run back inside, until the demon muttered, "Fine. I'll let you get me books."

"Okay!" Tom rubbed his palms together for warmth. "Well, if I do this for you . . . " He paused to grab the demon's attention. "Then I get to call you a nickname."

The demon slowly shifted his attention back to the beer. He cupped the glass with large pale fingers. "No."

"Why?"

"I won't be around long enough for you to remember it."

"Well, just for the meantime then. I can't keep calling you Soul Stripper." Tom stood closer to be under the parasol and out of the rain. "What about . . ." he hushed his tone, leaning down to say, "Ezra?" Ezrakhell finally looked up, connecting Tom's blue gaze with wary brown ones. "It's not your full name because I don't want to summon you," Tom added, circling his face now that the daylight touched it. He was handsome, with dark eyebrows, big brown eyes with thick lashes, a nose with a prominent bridge that suited his sharp features and full lips. "If you're not comfortable with that then, I can call you something else?"