by Cindi Madsen
We landed with a spine-jolting thump, and the top of my head slammed into Abigor’s rock-hard chin. My date set me on my feet and sprinted after Michael. I rushed after the both of them, cursing my heels.
Abigor dived on top of the angel, and they tumbled to the ground, a tangle of black and white limbs.
Jeez. One night on Earth and I got to spend it witnessing a demon versus angel throw down. I ran over to them, trying to figure out which dude I should grab on to—probably the non-shocky one. “Both of you, stop it right now.”
Big surprise: they did not, in fact, stop it.
Abigor gripped Michael by the collar and cocked his fist. Michael jerked up his legs and sent his feet into Abigor’s chest, sending him flying backward.
Within seconds they were both back on their feet. They circled, glaring daggers at each other.
“You shouldn’t have come, Angel Boy,” Abigor said. “You guys have already lost her.”
Michael grinned. “If you thought we’d already lost, you wouldn’t have chased me down and attacked me. How’s your hand, by the way? Still burning?”
Abigor lunged, and I stepped between him and Michael with a wince, my arms extended in a T. “Stop it! Stop fighting and stop talking about me like I’m not here. I get it, you guys are mortal enemies or whatever, but I don’t want to be your freak-show prize.”
“Don’t you get it, Lily?” Michael’s blue eyes turned to me. “You are a prize. To Hell you’ll be the princess, more powerful than even Abigor here, and second only to the devil. To Heaven you’d prove that even those rooted in evil can overcome. Not to mention saving the thousands upon thousands of souls you’d tempt to Hell. You could swing the power balance to either side.”
“No pressure or anything,” I sarcastically said, too overwhelmed to fully take it in. “And rooted in evil? I prefer righteous-impaired, thank-you-very-much.”
“Phft. Heaven.” Abigor’s shoulders shook with a soundless laugh. “You told her she could get into Heaven?” He made a low whistling noise. “And you accuse us of being liars.”
I swiveled my head toward Michael, waiting for his response. Waiting for him to tell Abigor that he shouldn’t be laughing.
The pinched expression on the angel’s face wasn’t exactly comforting. “I told her it wasn’t impossible, and that’s the truth.”
“Maybe not technically impossible, but it might as well be,” Abigor said.
“She could prove herself. It won’t be easy, but…” Michael reached out to me, then seemed to remember he couldn’t touch me. “You can prove yourself, Lily. You’ve just got to find a way to do it. I’ll help you.”
“He’s talking about a miracle. That’s what it would take.” Abigor grabbed my arm and tugged me closer to him. “A miracle that’s never been done, even though Michael’s tried to help plenty of half-demon children. Come on. Let’s go home.”
I tugged free of Abigor’s grasp and spun to face Michael. “None of them made it to Heaven? Not a single one?”
Sorrow flickered through Michael’s eyes, and then he lifted his chin. “You could be the first.”
Disheartening spikes punctured my earlier resolve. “How many?”
Michael hung his head and shook it, unwilling—or unable—to tell me. “You could be the first,” he whispered, but this time the words hung limply in the air, no conviction of any kind behind them.
“It’s okay, Lily. You’ll be happy with us.” Abigor grabbed my hand, and when he laced his fingers through mine, it wasn’t a perfect fit like with Tristan. “Come on. Let’s go home.”
My emotions shut down, as if too many had gone off at once and fried the motherboard, so I let Abigor lead me away from Michael.
I glanced back at the angel just before we hit the sidewalk—I really needed to learn to stop doing that. Michael looked as defeated as I felt.
Ah, hope. Such a fleeting, fickle bitch.
Not wanting to rehash the details of what was most likely my last night on Earth for a long, long—times twenty—long time, I left Abigor alone in the living room to debrief Dad.
I’d only made it a couple of steps when Dad’s angry voice vibrated the walls. The name Michael and then louder, “How long was she alone with him?”
Before I could get called back for questioning, I quickened my steps. The staircase might take too long. Plus, Dad would look in my bedroom first. I sprinted down the hallway of doom, punched the code to open the tech room, and slid inside.
I flopped into the chair and let out a long breath. Like it really matters how long I was alone with Michael.
I felt better when I was actually alone with him and he’d told me all the hopeful stuff. Then he and Abigor had to argue and ruin it all.
“I’d give anything to talk to Tristan right now.” I rolled the chair in front of the screens and propped my legs up on the desk, not caring about my dress gathering up at my thighs or if I hit some button I shouldn’t.
Talking to Tristan might not be possible, but seeing him was. I swung my legs down and asked the computer to bring up his profile. I clicked on one of the video links, dated four months before his death. He was talking to his friends, smiling, being his charming self.
I closed my eyes, reliving his calloused fingers dragging across my skin. The way his laugh washed over me and brought out every ounce of happy inside of me.
Then, even though I knew it would hurt, I replayed second by second of him telling me he loved me.
Why am I staying away from him again?
Oh, that’s right. The soul-sucking thing. I’m trying to do right by him.
That whole hurt-them-to-save-them bullshit? It sucked ass. All it was doing was making me feel awful. I hugged my arms around myself in a vain attempt to make the pain go away. Tears formed in my eyes, and I didn’t bother fighting them anymore. I propped my elbows on the desk, dropped my head into my hands, and had myself a good cry.
After a handful of minutes I decided it was time to wrap up the pity party. Which should really be called pity suckfests.
I sat back and wiped my tears. Tristan’s picture was still on the screen, and I pressed my fingers to it. “I wish I could talk to you. I need you to tell me one more time that I’m strong enough to pull off my stay here without losing my soul. Then I need you to tell me how the hell I’m going to do it.”
Not a single one of those people—er, half-demons—the angels had tried to help had made it to Heaven.
But none of them were me.
And sure, my dad was the devil, the supreme demon of them all, so the odds weren’t great.
Lucky for me, being partly evil and all, I wasn’t opposed to gambling.
Forty-Two
Light taps sounded against my window. At first I thought it was the wind. Or that maybe I hadn’t latched my window tightly enough last night.
But then it happened again, louder this time.
The clock on the bedside table declared it two minutes past midnight. Wasn’t that the witching hour, the hour when demons were supposed to come out to play? Maybe that was just urban legend. Based in truth.
I gulped.
Every muscle in my body went on alert as I slipped out of bed, unzipped my backpack, and withdrew a bejeweled dagger.
Maybe I should call for Dad.
But I didn’t want to see Dad. I’d avoided an interrogation about Michael so far, and if I had my way, I’d put it off forever.
My heart slammed against my rib cage as I crept closer to the window. I gripped the dagger in my right hand and threw open the curtains with my left. Lightning fast, I took a giant step back, weapon raised and ready.
Light from the lamp on my side table reflected off the window, obstructing my view. A dark figure crouched down, and my heart traveled up to my throat as if it were going to see if it could escape that way.
Then I recognized the posture, the hair, and my insides did a full one-eighty, turning from iron to mush. I set the dagger on the sill and opened the window. �
�What are you thinking, climbing all the way up here?” I asked Tristan. “Do you have a death wish?”
“Had one,” Tristan said. “Already received it, though. But if you’re giving wishes away—”
“And seriously, what if my dad or one of his people saw you scaling the castle wall? What’s wrong with you?”
“My English teacher forced us to watch that Romeo and Juliet movie, and I was under the impression chicks dig this kind of thing. Plus, you’re always sneaking into my place. I figured it was my turn.”
“Yes, but you don’t have the devil living with you, and your place is on the ground.”
“You gonna invite me in or what?”
I raised an eyebrow. “Why? Are you actually a vampire?”
He jumped inside, landing with silent catlike grace. He slowly straightened, his eyes locking on mine. “Why yes, I am a vampire, and I’ve come to bite your neck.”
Desire cascaded through me, heat flooded my cheeks, and I wanted nothing more than for his lips to be on my neck. I swallowed past my dry throat and took a giant step back to keep my biggest temptation out of reaching distance.
“I came to tell you that you can’t give up,” Tristan said. “You’ve got to fight, Lily. You’ve got to make it out of this and stay true to who you are. Because who you are is amazing.”
More internal mushiness was happening. “You came all this way to tell me that?”
“I couldn’t sleep, thinking of what I said to you earlier. Your hurt expression kept popping into my head and I…” He reached up and rubbed the back of his neck “I was just mad and frustrated and I’m sorry.”
“Admittedly, your obvious disappointment in me is one of the many things that’s keeping me from sleeping. But there’s a whole crapload of other stuff in the mix, too. Long story short, I think I forgot what sleep is even like.”
“Well, since we’re both not sleeping, we should find something else to do.” Passion lit his eyes as he stepped toward me.
My thighs bumped into the nightstand, and the heavy chrome lamp hit the ground with a thud.
I glanced from it back to Tristan and held up a hand in the classic stop-right-there stance. “I’m going to fight, okay? I’m going to do everything I can to not lose my soul. But the thing is, I still can’t be with you. I’m trying to do the right thing here.”
Tristan took another step toward me. “I’d rather you do the wrong thing.”
I bit my lip, fighting the achy need plundering my insides. “You’re making it hard to stay strong. But I need to. I suck power from souls. I’ve probably been feeding off you without even realizing it.”
One more step and Tristan’s hips bumped into mine, sending my desire into all-consuming territory. “You’re not.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Then I don’t care. Take it.” Tristan whispered the words onto my lips. “Take it all.”
His lips captured mine in a demanding kiss, his hands taking hold of my head and tilting it one way and then the other as if he planned to taste every inch of my mouth.
I ran my hands up his strong arms and linked my fingers behind his neck. Slipped my tongue inside his mouth to meet his.
No power seemed to be transferring to me, and his kiss was much more powerful than the high I’d felt from feeding off other’s souls. This addiction could totally help me kick my other addiction.
Yeah, that seemed like a conveniently illogical idea to cling to.
Tristan’s hands moved to the backs of my thighs. He lifted me into his arms and carried me to my bed. He fell on top of me and kissed my neck, sending pleasant chills skating across my skin. “I was so miserable without you.”
“Me, too,” I breathed.
He trailed kisses across my jaw and the column of my neck before returning his attention to my lips. I slid my hands under his shirt and ran them up his muscled back. His moan vibrated through me, arching deep in my core, and for once I didn’t worry if it was right like I had with every other guy I’d been with.
I knew it was right.
Then a noise from the hall yanked me from the sea of bliss I’d been ready to float away on. Were those footsteps?
I shot up.
Tristan opened his mouth, and I pressed a finger to his lips.
Footsteps—definitely footsteps. And they were getting closer.
Tristan’s eyes widened.
The knock on the door made me jump, and I leaped to my feet and pushed Tristan toward the window.
“Lily?” Dad’s muted voice came through the wood. “We need to talk.”
“Just a second. I’m, uh, just getting changed into my pajamas.”
Tristan climbed out the window, holding on to the ledge.
“Be careful,” I whispered.
He leaned in and gave me one last kiss, and then I drew the curtains, changed faster than I’d ever done in my life, and called out, “You can come in.”
Dad opened the door and entered the room.
Note to self: lock the bedroom door.
Sure, Dad could just snap up a way to open it, but those extra seconds could be crucial. Not that I was going to make it a habit of inviting Tristan into my room. I didn’t think my heart could take it.
My lips probably could, though.
“Why are you all flushed?” Dad asked.
I pulled my hair forward. “It’s Hell. It’s hot here, so I pretty much always look all red. Thanks for pointing it out.”
He heaved a sigh, and then his attention turned to the window. It must’ve been breezy out, because the curtains were flapping around.
“Yeah, I tried to open a window, but it didn’t help.” I stepped in front of him, wanting to distract him from the window. “So, what did you want to talk about?”
His brow furrowed. “I need you to tell me what happened tonight.”
“I’m sure Abigor filled you in.”
“Humor me.”
“Okay, so a demon, an angel, and the devil’s daughter walk into a restaurant.” I waved a hand through the air. “Stop me if you’ve heard this one…”
Not even a hint of a smile.
“It would be easier to humor you if you actually had a sense of humor,” I said. “You’re going to make me think I’m losing my touch, and I’m sure that’s so not the case.”
“I’m about to lose my temper,” Dad said, an icy edge to his voice.
“Michael stopped me in the restaurant. Told me not to give up hope. I told him it was too late.”
That got a smile.
Resentment bubbled up in me. “But he told me that it wasn’t impossible for me to get into Heaven. I learned all about his failed cases and my hope got squashed pretty good, but silly me, I’m still thinking about doing the practically impossible.” I crossed my arms. “So whatcha say, Dad? You wanna wish me luck?”
The look on his face made it clear that he absolutely did not.
Forty-Three
I took out the blanket and food I’d packed and spread them on the ground. Carrying the supplies in my backpack all day had been a pain. Keeping my soul as a result of not using my powers: priceless.
Tristan and I sat, and then Tristan wrapped his arms around me and tugged me to him so that my back was against his chest. “We’re done with the back and forth, we’re-together, now-we’re-not thing, right?”
I ran a finger over the muscled line on his forearm. “So done with it. We gave it a try, and obviously staying apart just isn’t for us.”
He buried his head in my neck and sighed. “And what’s the countdown at? How many days do you have left?”
“I don’t know.” I glanced over my shoulder at him. “I stopped keeping track.”
“Because you gave up?”
“Partially. It’s also hard to keep track of days when you’re still in the three-hundred range.”
His lips brushed my ear. “Are you going to have to finish up high school when you return to Earth, or are you going to get to start college?”
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High school. College. I’d never planned much past surviving my year here. “I’m not sure. Before all this mess, I had my sights set on the University of Florida.”
“The University of Florida?” he asked, his tone incredulous.
“What’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing. It’s just that…that’s where I wanted to go to college. Maybe if things had been different, we would’ve met there.”
I intertwined my fingers with his. “Yeah, maybe. Except you’d have girls draped over you all the time, and I don’t think I’d be bold enough to approach you.”
“If I saw you, I’d be bold. I’d walk right up to you and ask you out, and since I’m so charming—”
“And humble.”
He chuckled. “And humble. You’d immediately agree.”
I liked the idea of us meeting at the university—that our paths were always destined to cross, even if we hadn’t gotten sidetracked to Hell.
“We could do all the normal things,” Tristan said, pressing a kiss to my temple. “Dinner. Movies. College parties.”
“Sit out in the rain together,” I said with a sigh. “I always loved the rain.”
“Check out cool bands.”
“Fight gators.”
Tristan laughed. “I might let you do that one alone.”
Dizzy from all the happiness swirling through me, I twisted my head and kissed his cheek. “We can still do it. Not the rain. Or the college part. Okay, so most of it’s out, actually. Although, I bet if we looked hard enough, we could find something alligatorish to fight. But what I’m trying to say, in my rambling, roundabout way, is that we’re together, and that’s what really matters.”
“For another three hundred or so days.” Tristan tucked his chin on my shoulder. “When I made the deal, I knew I’d be giving up some things.” He hugged me tighter. “I just didn’t know you’d be one of them.”
The anguish in his voice broke my heart. I shifted so we were face-to-face. “It doesn’t have to be that way. We can figure something out. I’m not saying I won’t fight to stay me, but…” I placed my hand on his cheek. “I could stay here. Forever. With you.”
