by Cindi Madsen
“If he actually knew anything about love, he’d see how miserable I am and let me go. He wouldn’t want me to end up here.”
The room fell quiet, and Grim got a faraway look on his face. “When you were born, this place was buzzing, everyone speculating about how powerful you’d be. Several of the higher-ups celebrated, sure you’d be the one to give us an edge over the competition and help spread evil throughout the land.
“His Royal Darkness, on the other hand, didn’t know what to make of your existence. He bided his time until the summer after you started school, and then sent me to get you so we could see how you reacted to being here.”
“I remember. Scariest day of my life. I’ll never go on any rides again either.”
Grim cringed. “Sorry about that.”
“Not your fault. You were only following orders. But for the record, six years old is not old enough for something like that. If he ever has another kid, make sure you tell him that.” My chest tightened. I hoped he’d never have another kid. Not because I was the jealous, I-need-all-Daddy’s-affection type; I just never wanted anyone else to have to grow up the way I did, questioning who I was and dealing with traumatic visits to Hell all the time.
Curiosity got the best of me, and I scooted forward, wanting to hear the rest. “Okay, so you brought me here…”
“Only a handful of his closest advisors were allowed to see you, and we all felt the spark of your potential. It grew every year, until everyone was convinced you’d inherited some of your father’s powers.”
Damn curiosity. When was I going to learn that learning more about me, and more about Dad, would always end up making me feel worse? “Please don’t say that. I don’t want to have power. I want to go back home and live a normal life.”
“But you’re not normal.” Grim rocked forward and placed his bony fingers on my knee. “And this is your home,” he said softly, but the words hit me hard.
I shook my head. “It’s not my home. I don’t belong here.”
“But you don’t belong in Heaven, either. Do you think they’re going to let Satan’s daughter in, regardless of what you do on Earth?”
My throat tightened to the painful point. “But if I live a good life, why wouldn’t they want me?”
“I’m not saying they wouldn’t want to get the Princess of Hell to switch sides, but there’s part of you that will always be your father’s daughter. You’ve already used your influence on people, and I don’t think you’ll be able to bottle up your powers forever, no matter how hard you try. It’s impossible, Lily, and the sooner you accept that, the better your life here will be.”
I clenched my jaw. “Why are you doing this to me, Grim? Why are you taking away the little bit of hope I have left?”
He exhaled, regret washing over his features, but there was a pinch of tough love in the mix as well. “I’m just saying, don’t throw everything away, foolishly believing that you’ll get into Heaven someday.”
My heart flattened to the size of a pancakes. It was one thing to assume I’d eventually end up in Hell no matter what, but it was another to hear my deepest, darkest worries confirmed.
I stood and sniffed. “I’m tired. I’m going to bed.”
Grim shot up, moving surprisingly fast, and placed a hand on my shoulder. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, darlin’. I care about you.” He gestured to the seat I’d just abandoned. “Stay up for a while and we can chat.”
“I’m all chatted out.” I walked down the hall and ducked into the spare room where Grim had put my bag. I kicked off my shoes and lay back on the bed that took up most of the floor space.
Was Grim right? Would Heaven really shun me simply because of who I was? Or had Dad roped Grim into convincing me to stay? Dad had said he could only keep people here by their actions. That he could nudge, persuade, throw obstacles in the way, but that he could never force. In the end everyone had the freedom to make their choices; they just didn’t get to choose the consequences.
I didn’t choose to be the daughter of Satan, but I was definitely dealing with the consequences.
“Okay, let’s see just how much like him I am.”
Closing my eyes, I pictured a carton of chocolate fudge ice cream, a spoon sticking out of the creamy deliciousness. Holding on to the image, I snapped my fingers.
Static lifted the hair on my arms as an overpowering current of energy careened through my body.
Then something cold hit my thighs, and I opened my eyes.
There on my lap sat a carton of already-starting-to-melt ice cream, the spoon stuck into it, exactly as I’d pictured.
I wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry.
But I figured whichever I decided to do, I might as well be eating ice cream while I did it.
Twenty
The next morning, when I ventured out of the guest room, Grim was sitting in his recliner, a steaming mug in his hand. He swiveled the chair toward me, and the corners of his mouth turned down. “You still mad at me?”
“I wasn’t mad. Just…frustrated. I wanted you to be wrong—especially about me being like Dad. I’m barely getting used to the idea of not hating him so much, but I don’t want to be like him. And I hate that I am.”
“Most people here would kill for that kind of power.”
“Exactly. They’d literally kill for it. I don’t want something like that.” I thought I’d gotten my emotions under control, but they got shaky again, as did my voice. “I guess saying ‘life’s not fair’ when most of the people here are dead already, makes me sound self-centered, but that’s how I feel. And if I’m going to be trapped here once I die, then I should at least get to live up my time on Earth while I can.”
“That’s what gets so many people sentenced to an eternity here in the first place,” Grim said.
“Not really helping, Grim.”
He swiped a skeletal hand through the air. “Sorry. What I’m saying is, you should at least explore the full extent of your abilities before throwing them away.”
Last night I’d experienced how it felt to eat an entire half gallon of runny ice cream because of my abilities, and I still wanted them gone. No matter how tempted I was to summon up whatever I wanted, I’d freaked myself out. It wasn’t only the fact that I’d summoned an object out of thin air, but also the intoxicating buzz of power that’d accompanied it.
Power like that did feel amazing.
Which was why I wasn’t going to get sucked in.
Most sins started out little. A dabbling here or there, and then it was just one more time. Followed by for sure the last time. But by then those habits had dug in their claws, so deep simply shaking them off was no longer an option.
Which meant no more snapping my fingers or using my influence to get what I wanted.
I’ll show Grim, Dad—everyone. I can keep whatever powers I have bottled up. No matter what.
Grim stood and crossed into the kitchen. He refilled his cup with what looked and smelled like coffee, and then lifted the pot. “You want some? Cream’s hard to come by and keep cool enough, but I’ve got some bat’s milk.”
Ew. Since snapping my fingers for some actual cream and enough sugar to make the coffee taste the way I liked it wouldn’t be the best start to my reinforced goal, I shook my head. “No thanks.”
Grim drained the coffee in what should’ve been a throat-scalding gulp but didn’t seem to bother him and set his cup in the sink with a clink. “Tell you what. Since you promised you wouldn’t try to escape, we’ll take a short boat ride. How does that sound?”
I smiled at him. “Sounds so good that I’m not even going to freak out about all the water or the souls circling around in it.”
Okay, I freaked out a little bit as I climbed into the boat. After eleven years of being terrified of water, my fear didn’t magically go away. Then there were all the tortured faces bobbing to the surface, their hollow features begging me to help them.
Keeping my gaze on the sky and taking large, calming breaths help
ed, and before long I was enjoying the gentle rocking of the boat and the little bit of coolness the water brought. No hate-filled glares from classmates, and no Abigor pouring darkness into my soul.
An entire day of nothingness stretched before me, and that soothed my nerves and left me determined to take advantage while I could.
If I had some tunes or a book to read, this would be the perfect way to spend the day.
Since I’d been able to summon a carton of rocky road, which didn’t usually exist here, I was sure I could have a book with a simple snap of my fingers. Nothing with romance, obviously, or I’d think about Tristan. But I could go for something funny or action filled.
My fingers tingled, and I could practically feel the weight of a book in my hand. I clenched my fists and bolted up, rocking the boat.
Damn. Now that I’ve experienced how easy and nice it is to have whatever I want at my fingertips, it’s going to be harder to refrain than I thought it would be.
“Everything okay?” Grim asked.
“Yep. This is nice.”
We rounded a bend, and a large stone altar and three or four dozen people came into view. At first they looked like little ants, carting rocks and stacking them on the altar. As we neared, the features began to sharpen, and I recognized several people from Hell High.
I scanned face after face.
And then I spotted the face I’d been searching for.
Gray smudges covered Tristan’s arms and legs. He heaved a giant rock into a wheelbarrow that was stacked high with rocks already.
I shaded my eyes with my hand. “What are they doing? I thought Saturday was a break day.”
“Not for everyone. The weekends are workdays for your classmates. A little reminder of what they’ll be doing for eternity if they don’t finish Tempter Training and begin pulling souls down here.”
A giant cyclops stood in the center of the action, his six arms cracking whips as he yelled at them to keep working and to do it faster. One person tripped, and his whip came down and sent a slash of red across the man’s back.
Bile churned through my stomach, and I glanced back at Tristan. I didn’t want him to see me, didn’t want to watch him suffer, and I definitely didn’t want him to think I’d come to watch.
“Get us out of here, Grim,” I said. “Please. And hurry.”
The boat rocked as Grim moved to the other side and used his pole to push us back the way we’d come, away from the horrible sight of the overworked people. Every time I let myself think this place wasn’t so bad, I got a reminder that it was.
For what had to be the hundredth time since I arrived, my stomach roiled, ready to reject the food I’d eaten. I hung my head over the side of the boat, preparing to ralph into the water.
But then a sea of haunted faces stared up at me from underneath the river’s surface. I sat back, closing my eyes, and sucking in deep breaths. “Why does Dad need another altar anyway?”
“Ah, it keeps the souls busy, which in turn powers Hell. But that particular altar wasn’t for your dad.” Grim jabbed the pole into the water again, sending us farther downriver, and then turned and looked at me. “He’s having it built for you.”
I sprinted toward the woods, ignoring Grim as he called after me. I knew he wouldn’t leave his post. He’d probably call Baal and ask him to find me, but that gave me a few minutes to get away from it all and deal with the pounding in my head and the sick feeling that’d settled deep into my core, as if it planned to become a permanent part of me.
After I’d found out the altar was being built for me, I had a total meltdown. My breaths had come faster and faster, and I’d stood, rocking the boat as I eyed the water, thought about how nice it would be to dive in, let the water rush over me, and shut off the screaming in my head. Losing my soul suddenly didn’t seem like that big of a deal. In fact it seemed like a good way to numb the pain.
Within seconds Grim had pinned me down, his iron fingers keeping me firmly in place until I got myself under control.
As soon as we’d hit the shore, I’d headed for the trees. I’d never been a big fan of running, but here in Hell it felt like a glimpse of freedom. Crows fled trees, a sea of black wings, their caws echoing after me.
My legs and lungs burned, and I pushed harder. I didn’t deserve a break. Not when people were out there building me an altar.
No wonder everyone hated me.
Dizziness set in, and my feet grew heavy. I stumbled over gnarled roots and fell to my hands and knees, gasping for air. A stitch shot through my side, and I pushed my fist into it, thinking I’d do anything for a water bottle right now.
Make that anything but snap one here. Because that kind of power was what made people think they deserved altars. Hatred for Dad rose up again, so bitter I could taste it. But this time, in spite of myself, I cared that I hated him.
I pushed to my feet, only to discover my legs were too rubbery and, sucking air, leaned against the tree. Outrunning my thoughts and feelings had seemed like a good idea, but it hadn’t worked for long.
All those people. Tristan.
I vowed to never complain again. I’d feel lucky to have a soft bed; grateful that my days weren’t filled with backbreaking labor. Blessed to not have a six-armed cyclops cracking his whips while yelling at me.
Muted voices drifted through, and I caught movement. I walked toward the pathway I could just make out through the trees. About twenty yards downhill was the mud hut village.
Had I really run that far?
Next time they’ve got a 5K going here, I’m so signing up. Fingers crossed there’s a free T-shirt.
Pressing myself flat against a large trunk, I held my breath.
A familiar voice skated across my skin—it was a small world after all. When was that going to stop biting me in the butt?
I didn’t want Tristan to see me but couldn’t resist peeking around the tree for a glimpse. His back was to me, his attention on the huts. Two other guys walked beside him, all three of them moving like they were exhausted. No doubt they were.
Tristan looks cute all dirty, even though I hate the reason why he’s so dirty.
“Lilith!”
Well, that got Tristan’s attention. The other guys’ too.
Baal scurried toward me in his giant tarantula form with the exception of his human head. “There you are. Do you sincerely think I’ve got nothing better to do than spend my time hunting all over for you?”
I flattened myself closer to the tree and lifted my gaze toward the treetops. “Can you please change back to human form?” Four of his disgustingly hairy legs flashed in my peripheral. “I can’t look at you when you’re like that.”
“Maybe I should stay in this form all afternoon then and teach you a valuable lesson.”
Unable to resist anymore, I glanced over my shoulder. Tristan’s eyes met mine, and my heart nearly leaped out of my chest, ready to abandon me for him. He seemed torn, but then he slowly turned and walked on with his friends.
Add dying of embarrassment to the awesomeness that is my day.
“It’s not like I was running away, Baal. I just needed a little quiet time, and besides, Dad lets me wander.”
“Yes, and I think he’s giving you far too much freedom, letting you run around wherever you want, talking back all the time.” I heard his legs scuttling closer, and then it was worse not seeing him coming. His eyebrows made an angry V that punctuated his overly large nose. And he had more eyeballs than I could count. Freaking perfect. “He’s too soft when it comes to you. If it were up to me—”
“Well it’s not, so just stay out of it.”
Baal morphed into his man form, grabbed my upper arm, and marched me back the way I’d come. “I will not be staying out of it. When His Royal Darkness gets home, he and I are going to be having a very serious talk, and rest assured, there will be consequences.”
“He’s already grounded me to Hell. I don’t think there’s a whole lot more he can do to me.”
Twenty-One
Grim was pacing the area in front of his house, his black cloak floating behind him. His head twisted around like an owl’s as Baal and I approached, upping the morbid level of his appearance considerably.
“Thank all that is evil that you’re okay.” He pivoted his body around, his head staying in place, and the hand he’d thrown over the center of his chest sent guilt tumbling through me—I hadn’t meant to worry him. “Now you march yourself inside, sit on the couch, and prepare for the longest lecture of your life, young lady.”
An air of superiority wafting off Baal. “I only came here to let you know she’s safe. I’ll be taking her back to the castle and assuming guardian duties for her until His Royal Darkness gets back.”
My eyes widened as I silently implored Grim not to let Baal take me home.
The ferryman motioned me over and tucked me to his side. “She’s my charge, and she’s staying with me.”
“You’ve proven you can’t handle her.” Baal tsked. “Really, Charon. You’re getting soft.”
Tension crowded the air as the two of them glared at each other. I held my breath, terrified Baal would win the stare off and I’d be forced to spend the rest of the weekend with the disgusting half-tarantula demon.
Grim advanced on Baal, what remained of his lips curling in a snarl. “You want to see how soft I’ve gotten?” He fisted Baal’s shirt and lifted him off the ground.
Baal cowered and ducked his head, his fear palpable.
“Thank you for your help,” Grim said. Then he let go, causing Baal to stumble. “Now remove yourself from my property before I remove you myself.”
The door creaked as Grim swung it open, and I quickly rushed inside.
Baal glared in our direction as he backed away. “Once the master hears about this, you’ll be—”
Grim stepped inside and slammed the door.
The anxiety that’d seized my muscles slowly leaked out of me. “Thanks so much, Grim.”
