by Abbie Lyons
I should’ve known necromancy wouldn’t be so simple. The rest of class was spent discussing some of the various ways you could talk to dead people. It helped if you had a personal item of theirs. A photograph could be useful in allowing you visualize the person. Sometimes a certain piece of music the dead person loved during life was the key to making the connection.
“Long departed souls are the most difficult to contact,” Mantel explained. “Mostly because we don’t know much about them. We don’t have any photographs of those who died thousands of years ago, just as we almost certainly have no pieces of their clothing or personal effects. Plus, as the years pass, the dead retreat further and further from the living world. You can try to make contact with Socrates or somebody like that, but you’re bound to fail.”
Needless to say, trying to talk with dead people but maybe dying from the fear of the bizarre noises they might make was a lot to wrap my head around. Even as far as demon shit went, that was weird. Luckily, my last class of the day was Metallurgy, a subject that I couldn’t imagine being anywhere nearly as freaky.
According to my parchment schedule, this one was held in a satellite building, just outside the main Academy. I slipped through the doors that led to the Herb Garden—our spot, as I’d jokingly referred to it with Raines. Or maybe not so jokingly. I had to rein that shit in.
“Nova.”
As if my thoughts had summoned him, Raines appeared at my side, his breath fogging in the sharp, cold air. His cheeks were pink, and he had a Hades-blue scarf knotted around his neck, hands in the pockets of a black wool coat. I shivered, for multiple reasons.
“No coat?” he said.
“No, it’s invisible,” I said dryly.
“Want mine?”
He didn’t even wait for me to answer before he started pulling his arm out of the sleeves.
“No!” I said, more forcefully than necessary. Raines frowned.
“It’s ten degrees out.”
“I’m fine,” I said, shivering again. That was the thing. I didn’t want Raines doing things like that. Favors. Small sacrifices. Because small things added up to big ones. And I couldn’t let him invest in me like that. Not emotionally. Not when I could be a time bomb, ready to tear men apart, like my mom.
“I forgot that we had to walk outside,” I went on. “But I’ll warm up by the time we get to class. It’s gotta be hot in there, right?”
Raines gave me a look, and a jolt of desire hit me, to have him throw that coat off and rip off my uniform blouse and pin me against one of the pillars in the cloister to our left. My brain had some seriously weird wires crossed.
“Keep it in your pants, Nova,” Raines said, irritatingly grinning and evidently reading my thoughts.
Now angry/sexy flirting? That I was game for. Way less complicated. “I’m wearing a skirt.”
“Trust me, I noticed.”
Bantering—back on familiar ground. But things weren’t going to progress further, because we’d arrived at the octagonal stone hut that was apparently our metallurgy classroom. A conical chimney in the slatted roof emitted a deep purple plume of smoke, and even from the outside, it glowed with heat.
Inside, everything smoldered. Cauldron-like containers turned molten metal in every color—your standard reds and oranges, but also magical deep blues and greens, and even a blinding white. I had to admit, even if this was the demon equivalent of underwater basket weaving, I was pretty intrigued.
“C’mon in,” said a gruff voice. It was Professor Donner, the quote-unquote silver fox who also taught Fulguration, AKA lightning class. I wasn’t at all surprised that a guy as beefy as him was in charge of teaching us how to swing hammers around, or whatever we were about to do.
“Where do we sit?” I asked, not unreasonably, since it’s not like there were desks. Donner gestured behind us: anvils. Well, when in Rome, I figured, and sat. After a few more sweltering minutes, I looked around.
“Where’s everyone else?”
Professor Donner wiped off his brow and flipped open a small leather notepad. “Lessee. Donovan?”
“Here,” I said.
“Kendrick?” He raised a shaggy eyebrow at Raines, who nodded, then clapped the notebook shut. “Looks like we’re at 100% attendance.”
“Seriously?” I stifled a snort and took a sideways glance at Raines.
Donner shrugged. “Look, I consider this more a hobby than anything else. There’s not a whole lotta finesse to it, you know? Honestly, I’m surprised two people signed up. Which one of you bullied the other into this class? She promise to go out with you or something?”
My cheeks burned for reasons that had nothing to do with the boiling metal around us.
“No,” Raines said, answering for me. Judging by the look on his face, Donner had touched a nerve.
I tugged at my blouse collar, desperate to change the subject. “I’m dying. Is it always going to be this hot in here?”
Donner looked at me, totally straight-faced.
“Depends on what you two get up to.”
Chapter Five
By the time the weekend rolled around, we were in the midst of a genuine snowstorm. Fat white flakes spiraled down from iron-gray clouds, landing on the grounds of Hades and piling up into impressive drifts everywhere—except the walkways, which were apparently heated by some kind of infernal fire that kept us from slipping around when we had to walk around the campus. Which was fine by me, because I was in hardcore cozy-up mode. No weekend trips to Westrock for right now. Not now that I knew it could be dangerous. I knew Lattimore had said I’d probably be safe, but I wasn’t really a fan of taking chances anymore.
Also, I was fucking cold.
I shoved a giant blue sweater over my head—for a magical school with miraculous self-heating walkways, Hades sure kept its dorms pretty chilly.
No chances. That’s why I didn’t want to make things too complicated with Raines, I thought. Not too involved. Because I wasn’t dying to have a boyfriend, not even after my generally pretty pleasant experience with Collum. So I was perfectly fine not being a couple with Raines. I didn’t need a status symbol. I definitely didn’t need a protector. And I didn’t need to bribe anyone with dates—ew—to take a class I’d never even heard of a week ago.
I’d never given a lot of thought to the, I don’t know, philosophy of relationships, but I guess I’d always figured that the point of having a boyfriend was to sort of try someone out for...well, marriage, I guessed. Also ew. Not just because I was way too young to think about that kind of commitment, especially after experiencing a genuine demon soul bond, but because...
...because my mom and dad had been married.
And look how that ended.
“Hello?” Morgan knocked on my and Karolina’s door impatiently. When I opened it for her I could hardly blink before Morgan was waving a hand in front of my face. “Earth to Noves! Dallas, we have a problem!”
“It’s Houston, you nonce,” I said, and grinned. “And I’m here. I thought we were going to breakfast?”
Morgan shook her head aggressively, the short ends of her dark bob hitting her in the chin.
“Nope. Change of plans. Haven’t you been paying any attention?”
“Uh—”
“Don’t answer that, Little Miss Romantic,” she said. I glared at her.
“Morgan, don’t.”
“Okay, sorry. Look, point being: I told everyone we were having an emergency meeting in my room. See?” She held up a sheaf of parchment that, sure enough, said ATTENTION NOVA IMPORTANT MEETING SATURDAY MORNING. XX M.
“I didn’t see that anywhere,” I said. “Where’d you leave it?”
“In your textbook, duh,” Morgan said. “The Lady Everly’s Rules and Recommendations for Fine Demons, Tenth Edition.”
Ah. “Well, I haven’t opened that one yet. So that’s why.”
“A slacker Duchess!” Morgan’s eyes sparkled. “Well, I never.”
“I’ll just ask Camilla f
or the notes,” I quipped. Morgan snorted.
“Ooh, you know the goss on that one?” She grinned. “Apparently Camilla’s father got her in for a second exetasis. Dunno what exactly happened with who, but now she’s been declared a Countess.”
“She paid her way into fancy demon class?” I said. Then again, I wasn’t sure why I was shocked. If anyone would do that, it was Camilla de Locke.
“Anyway, I’ve got you now, so come on.” Morgan tugged me by the elbow.
“Hold up,” I said, my stomach clenching. “I’m starving.”
Morgan sighed. “You think I wouldn’t have that covered?”
Five minutes later, we were settled in Morgan’s spacious single room, surrounded by an epic spread of pastries, muffins, and tea and coffee pots. My eyes widened.
“Where’d you get all this?”
“Room service,” Morgan said. “Apparently Camilla and them get it all the time. So I rang us up for some.”
“This is delicious,” Teddy said through a doughy mouthful of what had to have been a scone. “Thanks, Morgan.”
Karolina, perched on one of Morgan’s upholstered poufs, ate from a bowl of muesli, one fleck at a time. But she smiled when she saw me. God, I loved that weird Wednesday Addams chick.
“Right!” Morgan clapped her hands and addressed all of us as I poured myself the first of what would undoubtedly be many cups of coffee. “I suppose you’re wondering why I gathered you here today.”
“Not really,” Teddy said good-naturedly. “You wrote it on my invitation.”
He produced a piece of parchment, kind of like mine, that said DEAR TEDS PLS COME TO PARTY PLANNING MEETING SAT AM X MORGS
“Oh,” Morgan said. “Well, yes, I told you, because I was worried that if I didn’t specify you’d blow us off to have a lie-in with your squeeze.”
Teddy’s cheeks went rose-colored. “I swear, you guys, if you just get to know her—”
“Perfect thing to do at a party!” Morgan said, her mood turning on a dime. I took a giant slug of coffee. Then another. I was usually pretty crabby pre-caffeine, but even after half a mug, I was still feeling pretty bitchy. I reached for the coffee pot and poured out a second.
“We’ll have her in and get some genuine socializing in. We’ll end the night the best of friends. And everyone will have a great time.” She dropped her voice terrifyingly low. “If,” she almost whispered, “we don’t embarrass ourselves.”
I loved Morgan, but this was, to use her words, a little “extra” even for her. I washed back more coffee. Maybe the problem was low blood sugar. I grabbed a chocolate croissant.
In the corner, Karolina primly raised a hand.
“Yes, Karolina,” Morgan said, clearly torn between frustration at being cut off and delight that Karolina actually seemed eager to participate in her scheme.
Karolina chewed a single dried cranberry. “When will we be having the party? I’d like to make sure I don’t have a conflict with orchestra practice.”
Morgan’s face went briefly blank, as though she hadn’t considered this. “Oh. Well. Right. I...don’t know.” She turned to me and Teddy. “When are you lot free? Is Monday night too soon?”
“Of course I don’t have anything,” I said—snapped, actually. Morgan looked shocked, but she blinked it off. God, what was up my ass this morning? If it wasn’t low blood sugar or undercaffeination, what was making me into such a bitch?
“I’m free,” Teddy said amicably, reaching for a muffin. “That’d be great, actually. Late enough that everyone’s settled in, but early enough that we don’t have any big tests or anything to worry about.”
“Brilliant,” Morgan said. “Miss Zanziphone?”
“A school night will ensure that no one overdoes anything.” Karolina said, and gave a wicked smile. “Not.”
Morgan cackled. “Well said, Karo.”
Karolina nodded. “Yes. And I like that new nickname.”
“Double brill,” Morgan said. “Right. Next order of business: guests.”
“Zelda,” Teddy said, raising his hand. “I mean, if that’s still all right. I assume it is. She could just be my plus one, if it’s really an issue.”
“Good good,” Morgan said. She fished a piece of parchment out from under her teacup. “Zelda—what’s her last name?”
Teddy blinked. “I...can’t remember. Is that bad?”
“We’ll look it up,” Morgan said, pressing on. “I’m going to invite Matthias, of course, even though he and I have a history now. Teds, will you let him know?”
Teddy, who was Matthias’s roommate this year, nodded.
“You call one date a history?” I said. “Did you even touch?”
Morgan put down her parchment and stared at me. “Noves, you all right?”
I swallowed thickly. “Uh. Sorry. That was harsh.” I shivered. “Do you have a window open or something? I’m freezing.”
Morgan studied me carefully. “No,” she said, and gestured at the fireplace, where a roaring blaze was crackling. “Don’t know what to tell you. Layer up, maybe.”
I was already wearing my sweater, but I didn’t want to push it.
“Anyway,” Morgan said. “I think we’ll invite Lucy, that ginger girl, and Serafine, and I had Sumerian with Orlando even though he’s bloody well always asleep. We put out the word to them and they’ll drag a net to bring in anyone else worthwhile. Now, The Infernal Three—”
She glanced at me, and I swear to God, I almost hissed.
“Demons can take Midol too, Nova,” she whispered. “They’ll be on for sure. I guess our Irish friend will bring what’s her face, Amarind, but so be it. Hopefully they’ll sneak off to snog pretty quick. There’s also the small matter of who’s not invited. Of course, Camilla and...the other one.”
“Ruby,” Teddy said.
“God, he even knows their names!” I crowed. My voice felt weird—harsh and kind of painful. That wasn’t something I’d say to Teddy. Good natured teasing was one thing, but this kind of crabbiness...it was like there was something at my back, pulling the strings.
Watching me.
As Morgan went on to detail who’d be responsible for providing Hellwater, wine, and snacks, and Karolina started to raise concerns about the music, I leapt to my feet. My arms and the back of my neck were tingling, then prickling almost to the point of stabbing. Even with the flames flickering in the hearth, and my thick sweater, I felt chilled to the bone, as if I were standing in the middle of the frozen lands outside Hades.
Like where I’d been when I fought off my mom.
“Stop!” I shouted.
Everyone looked at me, the room silent but for the snap of the fire.
I blinked, and then the feeling lifted. Reality came crashing back, the cozy warmth of the room and the concerned looks of my friends and the absence of tension cording up my every muscle.
“Sorry,” I said a little raspily. “It was just...”
My knees were suddenly very bendy. I half-fell, half-sat back on an armchair.
“Nova!” Morgan rushed to my side, with Karolina trailing behind. Somehow, she produced a napkin soaked in cool water, while Morgan chattered at a clip, trying to get me to eat everything from an entire quiche to Teddy’s half-eaten raisin bun.
I blinked away the drops from Karolina’s impromptu compress and managed to wave them off. “Guys. Thanks. But I’m fine.”
“You’re still quite pale,” Karolina said. “But getting better.”
“What in the bloody hell was that?” Morgan said, sinking onto the edge of her bed. “Just jumping up and shouting like that, I thought you were about to self-immolate or something.”
“Not yet,” I said, trying and failing to be funny. “It was just...”
I blew out a breath, looked into their three eager faces. I didn’t want to bring the mood down. More than anything, I just wanted to have a normal time with my friends.
A normal time with everyone in my life.
But I also kne
w I couldn’t lie.
“I think my mom was watching me.”
THE PARTY PLANNING mostly petered out after that. Morgan insisted we’d gotten all the essentials nailed down, Karolina wanted to go practice the zanziphone, and Teddy had apparently made secret second breakfast plans with Zelda behind all of our backs. After a final apologetic squeeze for Morgan, I padded back down to my room and laid on the bed.
The four-posters at Hades were decorated with constellations on the underside of the canopy. I’d looked at them a few times when I couldn’t sleep, not really thinking of them as anything more than a good sheep substitute for counting away insomnia.
Now, though, I wondered.
Was escape impossible? Not just from my mom’s watching, but from my own fate—whatever these stupid stars had in store for me? I hadn’t asked to be born to her, and yet here I was. Daughter of a woman hell-bent on raising a dead uber-demon. Thinking that was the answer to everything. Thinking that was the ultimate purpose of life. Thinking that was even possible.
The stars winked from over me.
I sat bolt upright.
Because...wait.
My mind flashed back to class with Mantel.
Sometimes the dead have more to say about the world of the living...
If Abaddon—the OG Devil—was dead, but was someone or something that had been alive ever and now wasn’t anymore, then presumably, probably, there was a way to communicate with him. But that wouldn’t be easy according to what Mantel had taught us. After all, the historical figure of Satan was long, long dead and shrouded in mystery, so if getting in touch with somebody who died only a few years ago was already fraught with danger and difficulty, then contacting—let alone resurrecting—the devil seemed basically impossible. But was it totally impossible?
Chapter Six
But who has time to worry about the possibility of talking to dead mega-demons when your best friend is throwing the party of the year?
“I’m absolutely chuffed,” Morgan was saying. “I think we’ve done a bang-up job.”
She gestured with her eyeliner wand at her room, which, thanks to being a single, and to some artful re-arranging of the furniture, now boasted plenty of space for socializing, including a bare stretch in front of the bed that would make a pretty killer dance floor.
