Grim watched Pyre’s demon attempt to set fire to the library. Again.
“Pyre,” said Grim patiently.
“I know, I know!” Pyre yelled at the demon the spell Grim taught him.
“Say it in a normal voice,” said Grim, as the demon flew up and over their heads, heading to the door. He spat fire at the doors. They didn’t catch, but the wards flared up blue and green. “Calm down and try it again.”
Pyre took a few deep breaths. He started the spell in a normal voice.
“Too loud.”
“You do it, then!”
Grim walked up to the demon, who turned around and faced Grim, then spat fire at him. Grim threw the shield up in time, and the fire went around him like water hitting a dam. Grim said the spell in a normal tone of voice, letting the language convey his command.
The demon froze, its body still, but its eyes were wild and searching.
Grim said another set of words, and the demon’s eyes focused on him. “That’s a good boy,” murmured Grim. He started down the stairs, the demon flying behind him.
Pyre glared at Grim. “I know. I know.”
“No, you don’t know. Because if you did, you would have been able to control it. Tell it to set fire to the papers on the table, without touching the table. Use the third spell I told you to preface the command.”
Pyre said, a gentle tone of voice but with an angry edge, “Set fire—“
The demon burped up flames and set fire to the papers and the table. Grim sighed, and dismissed the demon.
“Hey!” Pyre yelled at him.
Grim said a word and before the flames could engulf the chairs and carpet, he put the fire out. “You’re in a pissy mood, which is not conductive to control. What’s gotten under your skin?”
“I’m fine.” Pyre said. “I can do this.”
“You’re trying too hard. Are you trying to impress me?”
“Like I need to impress you.”
“Then what’s going on? Got a hot date you’re trying to impress, then?”
“I’m not trying to impress anybody!” Pyre flopped down on the couch, sprawling himself across it.
“Then what’s wrong?”
“Fuckin’ Christmas.”
Grim blinked. “Christmas?”
“I hate Christmas.”
Grim sat across from him in one of the scorched chairs. “Bah humbug and all that shit?”
“Yeah.” Pyre seemed to have a look of pain cross his face just seconds before he threw his arm across his face.
“Bad memories?”
“Yeah,” he said.
“Want to talk about it?”
“I’ll be fine.”
Grim sat back, “You know, I was thinking.”
“That’s where the smoke’s coming from.”
“Ha, ha, a regular joker. I was thinking of forming a supergroup.”
Pyre turned his head. “A what?”
“A supergroup of my own. Teenagers. Most teenage supergroups are led by themselves, and are only barely led by an adult. Or overseen by them. And most teenaged super-heroes need guidance.”
“Which you are more than willing to provide?” Pyre smirked.
“Get your mind out of the gutter. I’m not thinking of using them that way. I’m thinking of using them to get back into UNITY’s good graces.”
“If you lead a supergroup, you think UNITY will take you in?”
“Why not? I’d be a paragon of the community, leading teenagers out of the vast forest of teenage angst. Besides, there’s always a source of drama there and I can guide teens through that without anyone committing suicide. I’m handling you, aren’t I?”
Pyre stood up, smirking. “Are you?”
“Ready to try again?”
Pyre shrugged. “Yeah, why not.” He waved his hands, summoning the demon again.