Damned if I do (the Damned Trilogy Book 1)

by Elizabeth Stevens

  On Friday, I was scraping the barrel.

  As she walked up her path, I was collecting the mail and actually asked her, “How was school?”

  Needless to say, that didn’t work. She nodded politely while looking completely baffled as to why I’d be talking to her, and hurried inside.

  As I walked back into the Petersons’, I slammed the door and roared.

  “How did it go, sir?” Truman asked blithely as I walked in.

  “She coming home?” Kyle asked happily.

  I shook my head. “I’m done. I’m out of moves. I’m out of patience.”

  “What’s the play, boss?” Ignacio grunted.

  “We’re taking her tonight.”

  “You’re just taking her?” Truman’s tone had just enough distaste in it for me to know what even he, a hellspawn, thought of that.

  “No. She has to come willingly, but I’m just going to give her the truth.”

  “Is that wise, sir?”

  “I am all out of fucks on that one, Truman.”

  “What can we do?”

  I looked out the front window and saw her father’s car pulling into the driveway. “I need you to go to her and get her to come and talk to me.”

  “You think that will work?”

  I shrugged and pointed at him. “She’ll have to believe it when she’s staring at the hot, red proof.”

  “Kyle go! Oh, pick Kyle!” he squeaked, bouncing up and down, his arm stretched above his head.

  I gave him a rough approximation of a ghost-smile. “Thanks, man. But I think Truman’s the devilbum for this.”

  Kyle sagged, but nodded.

  “And what message would you like me to deliver, sir?”

  “Just tell her we need to have a frank discussion.”

  Truman nodded. “Excellent, sir. I look forward to it.”

  “You think she’ll just come?” Ignacio huffed.

  I gave him my best stern glare. “I am my father’s son. I always collect.”

  Wren

  Why was it so hard to talk to attractive people?

  It’s not like I was shy.

  It’s not like I lacked self-confidence.

  It’s not like I couldn’t think up a dozen dirty things I wanted to do before I knew a guy’s name.

  It was just, faced with all that hotness, all I got was a loss of brain to mouth connection. Which, in turn, led to the resting jerk face. Harmony and I called it jerk face because apparently I wasn’t sexy-mean enough for it to be bitch face.

  So, on Friday for the umpteenth time that week, I ignored the hotty next door as he quite clearly tried to talk to me and stomped up to my room. I flung my bag on the floor and something caught my eye enough to temper my mood somewhat.

  It was the picture on my mirror.

  I went over to it and pulled it down, flopping onto my bed to look at it.

  I barely remembered the day it had been taken – all I had were memories based on what Mum, Dad and Tilly said about it – but I’d been thinking about it more and more in the last few days. Even though I couldn’t trust my memories about how it all happened, I knew I could trust the memory of the way I’d felt. I’d felt amazing. I’d felt grown up. I’d felt understood. I’d felt like I wasn’t just some stupid kid.

  Looking back, it was stupid. Asking the boy next door to marry me? Especially when I’d been practically half his age – five to his eight, the scandal! But he’d said yes, the way he’d always said yes. These days, I knew it was just to humour me. But my friends and I always laughed at the pure romance in the idea that one day he’d come back and we’d–

  I was distracted by a clattering noise behind me and I sat up quickly. My mind took a few seconds to work out what my eyes were seeing.

  Trying to disentangle itself from the cord of my now broken lamp was a weird little thing. It was probably half my height, maybe shorter. Its lower half looked like goat legs – much like Mr Tumnus – covered with brown hair and ending in hooves. His top half was red leathery skin. Its hands only had three fingers and a thumb with sharp claws. It had a big head, with a wide mouth and a little brown goatee. Its ears were huge bat-like things and it had little black horns. And to top it all off, when it shifted as it finally got its hoof free of the cord, it had a thin red tail that ended in a point.

  As it stepped forward and said, “Apologies, ma’am,” whatever spell I’d fallen under broke and I realised there was actually this weird little creature standing in my room.

  I jumped up, grabbing my umbrella and stepping forward. As I smacked it in the head, it kept talking. And no matter how much I hit it, it kept talking, taking each hit in stride.

  “Yes, ma’am. I quite understand. However, I am here on behalf of my prince. After a week of making absolutely no headway with talking to you, Master Drake felt that it might be necessary–”

  I froze, that name feeling too familiar. “Wait, what?”

  It stood up straight, blinking its little black eyes rapidly as though used to hiding its true feelings. “Master Drake wished me to fetch you so the two of you can have a frank discussion.”

  The umbrella was still over my shoulder, ready to hit it again. “Master Drake?” I mused. “Drake. Why do I know that name?”

  “He used to live next door to you, ma’am.”

  I involuntarily looked back to the picture still in my other hand.

  “Yes, ma’am. The very same.” There was a pause. “Sort of,” it amended.

  I looked back at the creature. “Drake’s back?”

  The creature nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “And he sent…” I waved the umbrella in its direction. “You?”

  “Truman, ma’am.” It bowed.

  My umbrella-wielding arm dropped by my side. “Truman? That’s… That’s you?”

  “Yes, ma’am. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” It – he? – bowed again.

  “And… Drake wants to talk to me?” Something wasn’t making sense and I was feeling rather overwhelmed and confused.

  “He’s been trying to talk to you all week, ma’am.”

  I frowned. “What? How has he…?” I paused. “The new guy next door. Is that…?”

  Truman nodded. “Yes, ma’am. He had hoped that you’d remember him and the whole process would go more smoothly. Since it has not, he sent me.”

  “Because that makes sense…” I muttered to myself.

  “He’s waiting for you, ma’am.”

  I looked at the picture again and then back to Truman. I had never seen nor heard of something like him existing ever. So, bet was I’d fallen asleep at my desk again, making this a dream and that meant it would be totally fine to go with him. If I wasn’t asleep, Drake used to be my neighbour, and this little thing seemed totally harmless, so that made it totally fine to go with him. Right? Sure.

  I tightened my grip on my umbrella and nodded. “Okay. I’ll come now.”

  Truman smiled politely and inclined his head. “Might I suggest leaving the umbrella, ma’am?”

  I put it down slowly. “Sure.”

  Truman inclined his head again and set off at a trot towards my bedroom door. I followed behind him, out of my house and over to the neighbours’. As we went, doors opened before him and closed behind me. I watched them carefully but decided it was best to just act like it was normal.

  As we walked into the house, I looked around. It all looked the same as it had since they’d moved in twelve years earlier. But I was distracted when I heard a low mumbling and saw another little creature shuffling around.

  I watched it carefully as it was lumbering around, a frown on its little features and its teeth bared.

  “Um…how… How can I understand you?” I asked as it suddenly occurred to me.

  “Hellspawn – the denizens of Hell – are built to speak and understand all languages, living and dead,” Truman answered.

  “Dead is relative,” the
other one said grumpily. “Plenty of use for dead languages down home.” It looked up at me, licked the corner of his mouth quickly, and growled a little.

  “Ma’am, meet Ignacio,” Truman said as though we were just pretending that they hadn’t mentioned Hell and that Ignacio was eyeing me off like he wanted to eat me.

  There was a more frantic shuffling noise and I turned to see a third creature. This one was looking at me with great big, awed eyes. It was wearing a maid's apron and holding a big grey cat.

  It stopped at my feet and held the cat up to me.

  “Mr Muffin?” I wondered as the cat mewed up at me apathetically.

  The cat didn't answer but the little creature did as it chattered up at me in a language made up of something like snarls and growls and yips. I of course couldn’t understand it, but I got the feeling I was supposed to take the cat.

  “Kyle said if you don’t want to eat it, he’ll be happy to,” came a deep voice and I twisted to see the guy – Drake apparently – walk into the room.

  I wasn’t sure what to address first, but it seemed like a good idea to take the cat from Kyle in case he decided to eat me for refusing. That also delayed me thinking about how hot Drake was and kept my mind on the more pressing matters.

  “Oh,” I started slowly as I gently picked the cat out of Kyle’s hands. “Um… Thanks. I’ll save it for…later.”

  I smiled down at Kyle and, though he looked pleased, he also looked a little disappointed.

  Drake chuckled and it sent a jolt of tingles across my skin. “Devilbums don’t do flowers. This was the best he could come up with.”

  “This is Mrs Finster’s cat!” I whispered to him, forgetting all my shyness and all thoughts of his naked abs in the face of the absolutely absurd situation I’d found myself in.

  Drake smirked like he remembered Mrs Finster. “Then we’ll take him back to her. Won’t we, boys?” he asked them.

  Kyle’s face fell but he nodded and held his hands out for the cat again. I looked to Drake, who nodded reassuringly so I passed Mr Muffin back to Kyle.

  “You put that back where you found it, Kyle!” Drake said, his voice a warning. “Ignacio, help him.”

  Ignacio muttered under his breath and started trying to usher Kyle out again. Kyle sighed then meandered out, sneaking looks back at me, carrying the oversized Mr Muffin comically in his tiny arms.

  “He’s been very excited to meet you,” Drake explained.

  I looked back to Drake and laughed, “What?”

  My laughter died on my lips as Drake’s lips tipped in a cocky half-smirk and his pale blue gaze raked over me. “He wasn’t the only one. Although I have very different things in mind for our reunion.”

  I blushed as Truman cleared his throat. “I’ll go and keep an eye on the others, sir.”

  Drake nodded, but didn’t take his eyes off me. “Thank you, Truman.”

  I looked around the room, trying to think of anything to say that might diffuse the heat his gaze was eliciting in me. “Devilbums?” I finally said.

  Drake’s smile widened. “Devilbums.”

  “Why…?” I cleared my throat. “What are devilbums?”

  “Think of the cherubim.”

  “Cherubim?”

  “Big fat babies. Wings. Halo.”

  I nodded. “Right. Cherubim.”

  “The devilbums are Hell’s version of them.”

  Because this was all making total sense. “Right. Of course.”

  Drake’s chuckle was low and I could have sworn I felt it like a wave; emanating from him and washing over me with small vibrations. “Sit down. Be comfortable. Please.”

  I felt like I was on autopilot. My legs took me to a couch, but I was still just trying to get my head around what was happening.

  “Uh. The–”

  “Petersons?” Drake finished and I nodded. “They had the sudden urge to holiday in the Bahamas.”

  I nodded. “Of course, they did,” I breathed as I looked around. “Truman… Truman said you want to talk to me?”

  “That’s what you want to start with?” Drake asked.

  Honestly, I had too many questions to know where to start. So, I shrugged. “I don’t… It seems as good as any.”

  Drake ran his hand over his chin as his eyes slid off me for a moment. “I get it. You haven’t seen me for twelve years and suddenly I’m sending Truman over to talk to you.”

  “Truman called you a prince?”

  Drake sighed as he looked back to me again. He nodded as he made himself comfortable in the giant armchair he somehow made look farcically small. “Prince with a lower case ‘p’, mind. Capital ‘p’ is something else entirely.”

  “I don’t follow.”

  “Since I left, I’ve been living with my father. Things are…different there. They have their own ways of doing things. The short of it is, though, I need a wife.”

  He stopped talking, but I didn’t say anything either. I wasn’t sure if I was still processing it or waiting for him to continue – although I couldn’t tell whether I wanted him to admit it was a joke or just give me some more information.

  “You…need a wife?” I heard myself ask.

  Drake nodded. “Yes.”

  Despite how insane it was, I had a feeling about where this was going. “So why did you want to talk to me?”

  “Because why look for a wife when I already have one?”

  Drake

  She was understandably confused.

  “You already have one?” she clarified, stiltedly. “A wife?”

  My inflated ego heard a touch of jealousy in her voice and my smirk grew as I leant towards her. “Age means nothing in the afterlife, Serenity. We said our vows, twelve of your years ago, and I’ve come to collect my wife.”

  Okay. That might have taken it a little too far.

  She blanched. But kudos to the human, she didn’t get up and run away. Her eyes narrowed and her face contorted as she seemed to be trying to get her head around that. I watched her hand go to her mouth as she blinked rapidly. Then she lifted her hand away, opened her mouth, decided against it, and put her hand back. I could have read her mind, but it was more fun not knowing what was causing all those facial expressions, ranging from concern to acceptance, worry to relaxed, confused to resigned.

  Finally, she took a deep breath, rearranged in her seat and folded her hands in her lap. “I’m sorry. You… You think I’m your wife and you’re here to…collect me?”

  I nodded. “Yes.”

  “Because your father…?” She breathed out heavily. “And you’re a prince… If the devilbums are the cherubim of Hell, then…?” She looked at me abruptly and I saw the panic on her face.

  “My father is the lord of Hell. I am a prince of Hell and all hellspawn.”

  She swallowed hard. “And collect me? You want me to go to…?” She pointed down.

  “Hell,” I confirmed with a nod, despite the fact down wasn’t really exact.

  “Are you going to…kill me?” she squeaked and I found myself laughing roughly.

  “No.”

  “Then how would I get–?”

  “There are ways in without dying. You just have to know how to find them.”

  “Because we…we’re married?” she whispered.

  “Twelve years.”

  She was staring at me like she had no idea if I was insane, or what she should say next, or if maybe she was insane. She needed more proof than even the devilbums could give her. I could go with the big reveal, but that had the unintended consequence of making it look like we played for the other team. So, something else.

  “Do you remember that day?” I asked her.

  Her gaze focussed, but her teeth still had hold of her lip as her eyes narrowed. I watched her let go of her lip slowly as though it was coming back to her.

  “I…think so…” she said slowly and I almost saw a hint of the girl I’d left behind in her eyes.


  “Do you remember…” I started as I slowly brought my hand up, “what you had in your hand?”

  She cocked her head as she watched my fingers rub together, and she gasped in delight when the little wilted daisy appeared in it with a brief flash of flame.

  “You… Is that?”

  I passed it to her and she took it tentatively. As she did, I looked around with pride as the field and creek spread out around us.

  “Oh, my God…” she breathed as she spun around. One hand went to her mouth, in surprise this time, and those dazzling green eyes shone bright as she looked around. Her child-self ran through her and right over to me. “How did you…?”

  “With absolutely no help from my grandfather, I assure you.”

  She looked at me and I could tell she’d at least stopped questioning my sanity…sort of.

  “You… This is real?” She ran her hand through the grass then pulled her hand away quickly as she realised it was tangible. Her eyes snapped to me. “Is this real?”

  I licked my lip. “Real is relative.”

  “How did you…?”

  “I’m technically Nephilim, and I’ve got the power that comes with it.”

  “You’re actually the son of the real devil? Like Bible shit, right now?”

  “Not just the Bible. But yeah.”

  “Not just…” she breathed as she looked around some more.

  I let it fade back to the Petersons’ front room. “I just need a few days of your time.”

  “Wait. You made the Petersons move?”

  I nodded. “I did.”

  “And you just made outside be inside.”

  My eyebrow rose of its own accord. “Kind of.”

  “Why don’t you just make me go with you?” She frowned. “Can you just make me go with you?”

  I scoffed. “Yeah, I could. I could make your parents be totally fine with it, too. But the men in my family find kidnapping a woman for a wife is a lot more hassle than it’s worth. Not that my father really learnt his lesson on that one.”