by Cindi Madsen
I lowered the knife and worked to calm the adrenaline surging through my veins.
“I thought I’d sneak in a few minutes with you before class. Obviously I didn’t know you’d be packing heat.” Tristan wrapped his arms around my waist and pressed his lips against my neck. “It is kind of hot, though.”
My brain was still attempting to catch up to what was too close of a call for my comfort. “I could’ve stabbed you.”
“Nah, I’ve got lightning-fast reflexes. It’s not like my heart’s beating anyway.”
“But it would’ve hurt, and…” I leaned my head on his chest and listened. “It really isn’t beating. That’s so weird.” I lifted my hand to his cheek and tipped onto my toes to greet him properly. The mix of soft lips and scruff sent intoxicating heat through me. I slipped my hand behind his neck and held him close, wanting more. Needing more.
I felt him smile against my lips. “Now that was more of the greeting I was looking for.” He pulled back and looked me in the eye. “When exactly did you start carrying a knife?”
I closed the blade and clipped it to my waistband. “I’ve got a stun gun and daggers in my backpack, too. I say better to be armed than sorry.”
His grin faded. “What happened?”
Not wanting to worry him, I tried to play it off. “Nothing. I just want to be extra safe. You know, since I was attacked. Just that once, not any other time.”
“I can’t believe I ever thought you were working for your dad as a spy. You’re the absolute worst liar this side of the Mississippi.” Tristan glanced toward the opening of the hall, where people still roamed, and tugged me farther into the darkness. “Spill.”
Since we so didn’t have time for this, I gave him the briefest version possible. “Last night when I was walking home from Grim’s, I ran into a couple of freaky mutant things. The same Ratman as last time, along with another creature that was part goat and part lion. But I’m fine, and now I’m armed.”
Tristan pinched the bridge of his nose. “I should’ve never left you alone.”
“I told you to, and the ‘should’ve’ game never goes well. If you really want to help, meet me after school and bring your book on demons, so we can figure out who’s after me.” I placed my hand on his forearm and ran my thumb over the line of muscle there. “We’d better get to class. You go first, because if I’m late, Ms. Bing’s too scared to punish me. I’ll follow behind by a minute or two.”
He gave me a quick peck on the lips before joining the thinning crowd in the hallway. With him gone, my other senses kicked into high gear again. But instead of jumpiness and fear, I focused on the weight of the knife against my thigh. Thought of the weapons in my backpack and how all it’d take was a quick spin and unzip to get to them. Nearly stabbing my boyfriend aside, it was good to know that not only was I armed, but my reflexes were also much improved.
Which meant that once I found out who the bastards chasing me were, I’d be ready to deal out the kind of punishment they deserved.
After school Tristan and I hiked to the hill overlooking the river. I slipped off one strap of my backpack and glanced around for a non-dirty place to sit. Only there wasn’t one.
I wish I would’ve brought a comfy blanket.
Come to think of it… I pictured a blue-and-white checked blanket big enough for me and Tristan to lay out on, and snapped my fingers. One appeared on the ground at my feet, already spread out and everything.
Tristan’s eyes went cartoonishly wide as he stumbled back a step.
I shrugged a shoulder. “It’s a…thing I can do.”
“I thought you were going to stop using your abilities,” he said, a pinch of disapproval along with a dash of admonition.
“Just the ones that take away other people’s free will. Unless they’re trying to kill me, which is happening way too often for my taste. I prefer more like one kidnapping/attempted murder a month.” I gave an overly dramatic sigh. “Anything else is just gratuitous.”
Tristan didn’t smile at my attempt at a joke.
Guilt flooded me, and I crossed my ankles and flopped down on the blanket, unable to take his scrutiny anymore. “It’s hard to stop, okay?”
He squatted and put his hand on my shoulders. “It’s not that. Well, not just that. Lily, you need to tell your father about the attacks.”
“But then we couldn’t do this”—I motioned between us—“anymore.”
“And as much as I’d hate that, I don’t want you to get hurt either.” He put his thumb under my chin and used it to tip my face to his. “Or worse.”
“That’s why you’re going to help me figure out who’s responsible.” I took my textbook from our Which Demon To Send class out of my backpack and set it on my lap. Then I patted the place next to me, silently asking Tristan to let it go.
He ran a hand through his hair, mussing it in that way I loved, and finally lowered himself next to me. While the day was most likely as hot as ever with the two suns beating down on us, it didn’t seem as stifling as usual, so maybe Dad hadn’t been wrong about my getting used to the heat.
All in all, I was beginning to feel as settled as one possibly could in a place designed for misery. If I could just find the demons who kept ambushing me, I might refer to it as my second most hated spot, right under the school cafeteria. Throw in the dentist, and Hell might be sitting pretty above it as well.
The eraser end of my pencil made a light tap, tap, tap against the pages of my book as I studied the table of contents, lost as to where exactly to begin. Tristan had dug out his book as well, and the tip of his tongue stuck out as he scanned the pages.
He was so dang cute, and much more fun to study than a bunch of gross demons.
“Quick question,” I said, and he glanced up. “If you could have anything to eat or drink right now, what would you choose?”
“I don’t have to eat anymore.”
“But you can, and there’s got to be something you miss the taste of.”
Dreamy softness settled into his features. “A Mountain Dew. I’d kill for one of those.” He shot me a sidelong glance. “Not literally kill, of course. That would get me sent to Hell.”
I grinned because, unlike everyone else around here, I totally got jokes about our less-than-ideal location. “One Mountain Dew coming right up.”
Lightly rubbing my palms together, I pictured his soda, graham crackers, marshmallows, and Hershey’s bars. Hey, when Hell grants you powers, you might as well make the most of it, along with delicious s’mores. I snapped my fingers, and the food appeared at the edge of the blanket, along with a six-pack of Mountain Dew. “See, my powers aren’t all bad. The main problem is that my dad loves when I use them, which I hate.”
A hiss sounded as Tristan popped the tab of his can. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell him.”
We shifted into various positions as we ate, drank, and flipped through our books. The more pages I read, the more cross-eyed I became, until the words began blending together. I couldn’t find anything about a rat man, the half-goat-lion thing, or even a pet crow. “All these demon names are so weird. It’s like they were playing Scrabble and had too many vowels but went with it anyway.”
“Yeah, I think they’ve got the demon-naming Scrabble board stashed in the library,” Tristan retorted.
I laughed and returned my attention to my book. Before long, though, my muscles ached with the urge to move, antsy-ness slowly taking over my arms and legs. I shifted again and again. Then I got caught up in watching Tristan read the chapter he was on. As his face scrunched in concentration, I couldn’t stop thinking about how much I liked him.
I scooted closer and kissed his cheek. His neck. The spot where his jaw met his neck.
“You’re not great at this studying thing, are you?” he asked, and I could feel the vibration of his deep voice through my lips.
I lightly scraped my teeth across his skin. “Depends on how distractingly cute my study buddy is.”
The low nois
e he made in the back of his throat spurred me on, and the next thing I knew, Tristan’s fingers were tangled in my hair, his lips hard against mine as he tugged me closer. The demonology textbook slipped off his lap, and I happily took its place.
My center of gravity became this boy, this moment, and his fingers digging into my hips. I parted my lips and slipped my tongue into his mouth, tasting and savoring. His hands traveled up my back, hugging me closer as he stroked my tongue with his, working me into a frenzy of longing that both alarmed and enthralled me.
A handful of dizzying minutes later we came up for air. I gently eased him back onto the blanket and rested my head on his chest, sighing in contentment. Tristan skated his fingers up and down my spine, lingering on the stripe of exposed skin between my shirt and shorts. “Do you have another weapon stashed in your bra?”
I lifted my head so that we were nose to nose. “No. Why? Are you one of those guys who gets off on danger and wants me to pull a knife on you again?”
He rolled his eyes, but the corner of his mouth lifted enough to form that adorable groove in his cheek. “Not that I’m completely opposed to that scenario, but I felt something sharp, and I’m assuming it’s not your…” He cleared his throat, his cheeks flushing an adorable shade of pink.
“Definitely not,” I teased, although I could feel my cheeks flushing as well. “I bet it’s my necklace.” I pulled the chain out from underneath my shirt and held up the pendant. Red glinted off the silver wings as they spun in a circle. “My mom got it for me since crosses sorta”—I grimaced—“burn me. She wanted me to have some kind of protection, so she settled for angel wings in the shape of a heart.”
Tristan pinched the spinning pendant between his fingers and studied it. “It’s pretty.”
“I gasped at the beautiful details when I first opened it. Not that the necklace seems very effective in protecting me lately, but I’ve worn it since I was little, and it always makes me think of my mom.”
“I can tell you miss her.”
I sat up and slid to the side of Tristan, the yearning I’d done my best to stifle rising up at the mention of my mom. “Just like you miss your family.”
Tristan pushed up on his elbows. “Well, aren’t we just a couple of sad saps?”
“It’s not so bad now that I have you to hang out with. Before that, I didn’t think I was going to make it.” I placed my hand on his cheek and ran my thumb over his skin, the soothing way he’d done to me before. “You make Hell bearable.”
He covered my hand with his, curling his fingers into mine. “Right back at you, babe.”
Affection tingled through me, lifting me above my sorrows. But my happiness faded as I looked across the horizon and saw how low the suns were. My dad had demanded I be home before dark unless I had an escort, and considering everything that’d happened, it wasn’t a completely crazy idea.
Tristan followed my line of sight. “You’re right. Time to get you home. Maybe when you’re locked up in your tower, you’ll be able to concentrate on finding the right demon.”
I nodded even though I knew I wouldn’t. The only thing I’d be able to concentrate on was calculating the minutes until I got to be alone with him again.
Thirty-One
“We need to talk,” Dad said ever so ominously when I strolled into the dining room for breakfast the next morning.
Oh holy crap, he knows about Tristan. Dread rumbled through my gut, which had me rethinking the muffin I was about to grab.
My words felt thick as I forced them from my suddenly dry throat. “About what?”
His dark gaze lifted, and I froze in place, afraid to move or blink or even breathe. “Abigor,” he said, the ominousness turning up a notch or ten. “I’ve held him off as long as I can. It’s been a month, and it’s time you get to know him better.”
As usual I had to repress a shudder of repulsion at the mention of the douche’s name. “I know him plenty well, and that’s only solidified my opinion that he and I aren’t meant to be. Don’t worry, I’ll let him down easy. I’ll tell him that while he’s a nice demon warrior and all, he’s just not my type.” I picked up a clementine, tossed it in the air, and caught it. “Mostly because of the being-evil thing.”
I tossed the clementine in the air, only this time it hovered there instead of coming back down. It soared across the room and splatted the wall next to me, some of the juice splattering me before running down in a sticky trail.
I turned to ask Dad what the actual hell? but held my tongue when he stood, the legs of the chair scraping the floor in a way that made it clear he was in a no-nonsense type mood. “No, you’ll go out with him when he comes to pick you up from school today, and you’ll be polite.”
I clenched my jaw. “You said I’d get to choose.”
Dad braced his palms on the table and fixed his intense gaze on me. “That’s when I thought you’d come to your senses and realize that he’s a good match for you.”
My breaths came faster and faster, warning of an oncoming panic attack. “I know you’ve been around for, like, forever, but nowadays parents don’t arrange matches.”
“Call me old-fashioned, then. You’re going.”
“But Dad—”
He pounded his fists on the table, his face reddening as the various dishes rattled. “Don’t push me on this, Lilith Grace.”
Oh boy. The full name combined with that wild gleam in his eye meant I was about to push him into the danger zone.
And Dad in the danger zone wasn’t pretty.
To my surprise, the flash of anger receded as quickly as it had come. He rubbed his temples with his fingertips and exhaled. “I’m under a lot of pressure with you here. I’ve given you freedoms and even ignored your lack of respect, and I thought we were making progress on our relationship. But you need to learn your place. All you have to do for now is let Abigor show you around.”
In that instant I felt the tiniest bit bad for Dad. Maybe being supremely evil wasn’t as easy as it looked. I also worried fighting him on this would jeopardize the afternoons I spent with Tristan. “Okay. I’ll go.”
The tension drained from his posture, and he gave a regal nod. “Good to hear. Like I said, he’ll pick you up from school. And it would probably be best if you kept at least half of your comments in your head.”
“’Cause otherwise he’d really fall for me?”
Dad raised an eyebrow, and I made a zipping motion across my lips.
A date with Abigor. Shiiiiit.
Which also meant I had to tell the boy I was crazy about that I couldn’t meet him later due to my date with the guy I couldn’t stand.
You know, just your typical high school drama.
I crumpled the note I’d written to Tristan about the change of plans, peeked around the wall, and got ready to make my move.
In three, two…
I charged around the corner and smacked into Tristan. I slipped the note in his hand and peered into his face. And almost forgot why I was there in the first place. “Uh, sorry about that.”
His fist clenched around the note, hiding every bit of white paper. “Just watch where you’re going next time.”
“Yeah, Princess,” Constance spat, giving her signature dirty glare.
I moved around the two of them but couldn’t help glancing over my shoulder. Constance grabbed Tristan’s arm and leaned into him. He didn’t shrug her off the way I would’ve preferred. The girl was always with him, and he stood up for her, too.
She seems so awful. How could he be friends with her? I hoped friends was as far as their relationship extended. Jealousy burned through my gut, and my mind had to go and flash back to Tristan’s profile and the words con man.
Getting Satan’s daughter to fall for you, that’d be a major con.
Am I stupid to ignore the facts I’ve seen about him and just believe every word out of his mouth?
Probably. Especially since my weaknesses included bad boys and being too trusting. But I couldn�
�t help it. I desperately wanted to put my faith in him. Surely I’d be able to tell if he wasn’t being sincere…
Yeah. Just like you did with Dominic. And let’s not forget Josh DaMarcus, the guy who was sleeping with Ella Stevens while dating you and telling everyone he was sleeping with you, too.
Man, I’d thought that guy was The One for most of sophomore year. I slumped against the wall, trying to push away the memory of how stupid I’d been in the past. But Tristan was different.
Because all innocent people end up in Hell.
He’d told me why he was here, though. He’d traded his soul for his sister’s, which was a very good reason. A noble reason.
As long as he was telling the truth.
Stupid doubts. Go away. I’ve got enough to deal with without you screwing with my head.
The rest of the day passed by so slowly I thought maybe the clocks had stopped working completely. Finally the last class let out. Since that meant it was time for my date with Abigor, I couldn’t quite find it in me to be relieved.
Apprehension churned in my stomach, and my skin tightened as if it knew what was coming and wanted no part of Abigor or his caustic touch.
As I exited the classroom, I noticed that Tristan had hung back. Our gazes met, and he tilted his head toward the dark hallway where I’d pulled the knife on him. Then he disappeared down it, the blackness swallowing him up.
In the dark I could barely make out his profile. I wanted to wrap my arms around him and kiss him, but I’d been thinking about him and Constance all day. Before I could stop it, a question that sounded more like an accusation burst out of me. “What’s the deal with you and Constance?”
The silence that followed made me wince and squirm.
“The deal is that we’re friends,” Tristan said. “When I first arrived, she took me in and showed me the ropes.”
My inner toddler stomped its foot. I refrained, but I’m not sure rolling my eyes and huffing was much better. “Of course she did.”
