The Demon's Riddle Read Online Free

stretch her father always fussed with her about, warning her about what could happen to her if she was alone at that hour of the night. It was ridiculous, she knew, but she tolerated it as one of the more minor forms of smothering she had to endure from him.
    Still, she took her time, wanting to enjoy her freedom for as long as possible, knowing he would be hovering over her as soon as she arrived, something that was part of his nature that he simply couldn't suppress. 
    When she got to the door, he was there waiting, just as Kerry had known he would be. Sitting in his favorite chair, the one where their mom had always doted on him, making sure everything was just so and arranging his world for him. The sight of him disgusted her, just as it always had, and once again Kerry had to remind herself that this was her father, that she wasn't supposed to feel this way about him, and she had to temper the anger that surged through her every time she thought about what he'd done to their mother.
    "How was rehearsal?" he asked, trying to sound neutral and hide the suspicion that was natural in his voice.
    Kerry made an effort to gather herself, forcing herself to breathe, thinking about the way she used her breath in phrasing and the way she had soared with Cavanaugh, and that all of that had taken place only moments ago.
    "It was...ok," she said, trying to sound as matter of fact as possible.
    "Just ok?" he asked, the level of suspicion increasing.
    "Yeah," she answered, suddenly suppressing a smile that came over her all at once, a warm feeling she associated with Cavanaugh.
    He paused, and Kerry knew he was considering what tactic to take next. "How's the new choir director?" he finally asked.
    "He's...good."
    He waited, and Kerry knew her father wanted some kind of explanation, or elaboration, something along those lines. Before tonight she would have given it to him, mostly out of embarrassment, then hated herself for giving in to him, for feeding into his suspicion.
    But something about her was different tonight. Kerry felt changed in a way she couldn't quite define -- some of it was more confidence from the rehearsal, the knowledge that the way she had sung was who she was, and she didn't have to explain that to anyone, not even him. On a deeper level, though, she felt Cavanaugh's presence, inside her, as if it was part of her now, as strange as that would have sounded had she chosen to express it.
    All of those thoughts took a precious few seconds, and Kerry could feel her father's eyes on her, probing, trying to figure out exactly what was going on. This time she ignored it, though, and finally she looked right at him, challenging him with her eyes, the way she had with Cavanaugh, even though the circumstances were completely different, of course. She stared, counting the seconds to see what he'd do, knowing that she'd never done anything like this before, and that the consequences would be quite dire if her father decided that he had to win, which was his normal choice.
    Time seemed to stop for that brief period, just as it had during the music, albeit with completely different implications. Finally her father looked down, and Kerry racked her memory, trying to remember if this had ever happened before during her entire history with him. She had to resist the urge to smile, forcing her expression into a straight face, and when she was sure he was defeated Kerry began to walk past him, slowly, to make sure she didn't disturb anything with a pace that was too quick or too lingering.
    Finally she paused at the top of the stairs and looked back at him. "It was a long rehearsal," she said, knowing what a lie that was. "I'm going to bed early. Night, dad."
    Kerry thought she heard him reply softly, to say good night in return, but that might have been her imagination. On another night he might have kept after her, asking more questions, demanding details, doing everything he normally did.
    Kerry counted off a few more seconds to