I couldn’t think straight with him so close. “I. . .um, I don’t know.” I pulled back a little bit so my brain would work. I touched his lips and gently ran my fingertips back and forth. “This was the best night of my life.”
He closed his eyes and leaned into my touch. “Mine too.”
“Really?”
“Yes Dixie, really, really.” He chuckled. “Would you like something to remember it by?”
“Yes.” I knew even without a memento I’d remember this night forever.
He removed a small feather from his wing and handed it to me. It glistened in my hand like a jewel.
“Thank you.” I would treasure it forever. “I’ll see you at class tomorrow?”
“No,” he said regretfully, tucking my windblown hair behind my ears. “I have to take care of something tomorrow, but I’ll see you on Friday.”
My disappointment was embarrassing, but it seemed to make him happy.
“It’s only one day.” He pulled me into a tight hug. “I promise I’ll be thinking about you the entire time we’re apart.”
“Okay,” I said as I tried to hide my disappointment.
He lifted my chin and brushed his mouth against mine. My lips tingled with need. “Go inside now.”
“Your truck,” I remembered. “It’s at the field. How will you get home?”
Hayden laughed and spread his wings. “I have several modes of transportation.”
Hades, after an entire night of amazing, I had to end it with something stupid. “Right,” I murmured.
“Dixie.” He stopped me as I was about to go into my little house. “Tonight was perfect. You are perfect and I’ve never been so happy in my life.”
My breath caught in my throat. He gave me one last intense kiss, turned and flew into the night.
He was right. It was perfect.
I felt his absence keenly and my cozy bungalow made me more lonely than ever. I grabbed my now working cell phone and quickly texted Stella a big thank you and a semi play by play of the highlights minus the flying part. I wandered to my room and crawled into my bed fully dressed. I clutched my feather to my chest and fell asleep.
That night I dreamt about flying, but for the first time in my life. . .I wasn’t flying alone.
Chapter 8
Class was boring without Hayden there. I found myself unable to concentrate on anything academic. My father would be delighted. Stella had a field day giving me crap, but nothing could rip my mind from reliving the most beautiful night of my life. Well, nothing except another round of group therapy.
Due to the fact that we were scheduled to leave Hell soon, we'd graduated from therapy to combat training. As usual anything we did turned into a royal cluster. . .and of course we were back at my bungalow.
Not having heard Carl speak much in the months I'd known him, I remembered why when he tried to persuade the group to take up hip-hop instead of combat.
"You thould all realithe that fighting ith dangerouth and hip-hop ith good cardio," he explained as he busted a few moves, trying to impress.
"I really don't think hip-hop will protect us from Angels and all sorts of other things that will want to kill us on Earth," Myrtle volunteered as she tried to imitate Carl's moves.
"Angels really want to kill us?" I asked in a strangled voice.
"Sweet Lucifer's bouncing balls, of course they do! Angels, other Demons and Hell knows what else," Janet chimed in happily.
Why she was happy was a mystery, but I was not. "Guys, what would you say if we decided not to go to Earth and we just stayed in Hell and opened a dance school?"
Carl looked intrigued, but Janet and Myrtle shook their heads impatiently.
"No. Satan has said Earth and to Earth we shall go," Janet declared.
"Your dad may be a whack job, and please don't tell him I said that, but he's been around for millions and knows the score. If he's sending us there it's for a reason. And I prefer to keep my head," Myrtle said.
"What if we open a danth thcool on Earth?" Carl suggested as he did a tremendously horrid split leap that made my groin hurt.
"I don't want to go," I said quietly. "I have no power yet."
I wondered if this new wrinkle would cause a violent episode. I knew if they demolished my house again Stella would come to my rescue. My odd little group didn’t even seem to notice the bungalow had reverted back to its former glory or even care that I was powerless aside from a few normal Demon tricks. Whatever. I hadn’t been able to figure out a kind way to dump them and I wasn’t sure I really wanted to. So here we all sat back in my bungalow debating kick lines as opposed to kickboxing.
"You power will come," Carl said gently. My nutty group surrounded me protectively. "Bethides." He grinned evilly. "We've been holding out on you."
"Wait. What?"
"Carl," Janet admonished as she put her stubby little hands on her cute curvy little hips.
"Jutht remember, what the eye theeth is not alwayth true."
"Enough," Myrtle mumbled grumpily. "I like my life even if you don't. Can it."
"Besides, if you think Hell is safe. . ." Janet muttered worriedly.
"Why does everyone know more than I do?" I demanded, tired of all the cryptic bullshit I had dealt with my entire life.
Carl smiled. He actually had beautiful teeth and cute dimples, but the lisp. Hoo baby, now I knew why he preferred to communicate through interpretive dance. On Earth he could have had speech therapy, but in Hell you were stuck with what you got.
"Pathienth is a virtue and withdom cometh with time and maturity," he said as he patted my head like a dog.
At loath to admit it, he might be right. I hadn't behaved like the grown woman I'd become. I was stuck in adolescence. Could I change? Did I have a choice?
"We're Demons. We are born of Hell and sin. We are destined to make sure the balance of good and evil remains. Without one the other distorts and becomes the end of the world. Simple and impossible," Myrtle stated.
When in the Hell did she get so smart? Had they really been holding out on me?
We'd all been born in Hell. However there were different levels in Hell, same as Heaven, from what I’d heard. The lowest level, or the Basement, was truly horrifying. That was the Hell from nightmares. The Hellfire and brimstone, screaming in agony, burning for eternity Hell. That was where the very evil went when they died. They were punished in fire until the end of time. Nobody could give me a definition on what the end of time actually meant. You would assume that my dad or his brother God would have an idea on that one, but if they did they were incredibly tight lipped. I’d never been to the Basement and I never planned on going. A couple of my sisters, the ones from the seventh and eighth centuries, seemed to enjoy visiting the Basement, but it just wasn’t for me.
The next level up was the Sub-Basement, another place I’d never been. The Sub-Basement was for lesser evil souls when they died. There was fire there too, just not as hot. The lucky people who resided there were not quite bad enough for the Basement, but not quite good enough for Purgatory. I knew many doubted Purgatory, but it existed. I’d been there and trust me, you don’t want to go. It’s boring and beige, it smells stale and they play bad cheesy elevator music twenty-four seven..
There was also an area in the Sub-Basement that my dad preferred to ignore. It was an area where souls did penance so they could leave Hell and ascend to Purgatory. . .then possibly Heaven. It was a major long shot, but there were some who I did think ended up in Hell by mistake. Not that I would share that with my dad—my outstanding grades were about all he could take. The flip side of that was that some in Purgatory end up becoming violent and had to descend into Hell. Personally I think the constantly piped in elevator music caused some souls to snap. It would make me want to tear my own head off.
And then there was the main floor—where we all had been born. It was as big as the United States, but most the action took place in the northeast corner in an area about the size of Washington D.C. This was where th
e Demons lived. We were born in Hell and we were the loyal army of Satan, my dad. Many Demons took the portals back and forth to Earth for pleasure and work. I'd never been allowed to go. Besides, I’d rather stay in Hell with my family no matter how dysfunctional we might be.
It was a huge misconception that my father created all the chaos and evil on Earth. Mortals were given free will by my Uncle God, and they created evil all by their lonesome. My dad got to punish the you know what out of those idiots who choose to be heinously bad. And quite honestly some of them deserved my dad’s wrath. He loved his job.
Another misconception is that Hell is below and Heaven is above. What does that even mean? Nothing is up or down, that’s just human mythology. Most likely the mistake was made because Hell was occasionally called the Underworld. Hell and Heaven are simply on different planes, accessible through portals. Earth was modeled after a combination of the seasons, climates and terrains of Heaven and Hell. We all shared the same moon and sun and stars.
I’d been raised to be grateful to evil-doers, because without them Demons would not exist. Demons derived their power and magic from the chaos and evil of others. So while we don’t necessarily cause it, we thrive on it or feed on it so to speak. Lest anyone forget, my dad’s brother God dealt out the free will thing, not my dad. And now to combat his error in judgment, God and his army of Angels keep trying to end evil so my dad and his people, including me, will cease to exist. No offense, but God really screwed himself by letting men and women choose their own paths. If he wanted everyone to be good, he should have come up with a better plan. My dad finds this particular subject hilarious.
I was the black sheep of my family. There was my dad, me and the Seven Deadly Sins. My dad had been around since time began, and as history implied he was quite the ladies man. It was an irony that he had no sons, but as I learned in sex ed, the sperm determines the sex of the child so my dad was to blame for the overload of estrogen in Hell. However, his pregnant consort Amanda was possibly pregnant with a boy. That small fact could upset the hierarchy in Hell and had sent the Sins into a tailspin, especially my sister Wrath.
After a particularly violent and ugly episode where she'd tried to off Amanda and failed thanks to my cousin Astrid, she'd been punished—harshly. She and two of my other screw-up sisters, Lust and Greed, had been sent to Nirvana to be taught a lesson by Mother Nature. My stomach roiled at the thought. I knew Gigi liked me, but punishment by her hand even scared my dad.
My black sheep status stemmed from my inability to derive pleasure from evil. I assumed that was why I had no power or magic. This infuriated my dad to no end. He told me I had the potential to be the strongest of all his children. That was definitely a responsibility I didn’t want. My punishment, as I saw it, was to attend group therapy to learn to become a harbinger of evil.
Well, I suppose everyone had to start somewhere. "I'm ready to kick some ass," I blurted to the shocked trio.
Myrtle grinned with excitement. "Now you're talking."
I prayed silently to my cousin Jesus that I wouldn't regret my new and improved attitude and that I'd be able to walk later.
Chapter 9
I was sore and bruised, but amazingly I'd held my own—or they'd just taken it easy on me. Carl punched like a bomb and Myrtle was no slouch. The big surprise was Janet. She was the reason I would have difficulty sitting for a few days. As a Demon I healed fast, but a beating is a beating. The pride they took in the black eyes and bruised ribs I dished out was encouraging, but I felt terrible for injuring them. And now on top of everything I'd been summoned to the Dark Palace for a party. My father's shindigs were infamous and I hoped to Hell I wasn't going to be featured this evening. Being summoned to the Dark Palace was not always a good sign. More often than not it was a very bad sign.
The Dark Palace was Satan’s main residence and the home I grew up in. It was a sight to behold, and to me it was the loveliest place in Hades. It was nestled on about a thousand acres of the most beautiful and fertile property in Hell. Trust me, Hell was fertile and I’m not talking about the fact that I have seven sisters and a sibling on the way. . .Our climate was warm, breezy and balmy year round. Hell had more varieties of exotic plants, trees and flowers than Heaven did. My dad shoved that in his brother's face every chance he had.
The palace property was loaded with streams, ponds, rolling hills and meadows filled with blindingly colorful wildflowers. My bungalow was tucked into the far northwest corner of my father’s land. My corner boasted huge weeping cherry trees, orchids and scads of bougainvillea.
The palace itself sat on forty very manicured acres. It looked like a giant Gothic cathedral. It was the grandest castle in the world including Heaven, Hell and everything in between.
I arrived early, handed my Porsche over to the valet Demon and made my way to the palace entrance. I was a little nervous. I was guessing my deportment date would be handed down this evening, but I couldn’t imagine my Father would make it such a public event.
I’d dressed with care. My father expected no less from his daughters. My smokin' hot Stella McCartney dress and my Prada stilettos were the typical uniform that was expected. I carefully made my way to the huge carved teak doors guarded by the vicious Hell Hounds.
Vicious, my rear end. Another very well kept secret in Hell. . .the Hell Hounds were just big ugly puppies with razor sharp fangs and claws. I loved them and they loved me. The two that normally guarded the Palace entrance were my favorites, General George Patton and Bambi. They’d slept in my room when I was a child and I’d secretly pretended Bambi was my mother—a five hundred pound snaggle-toothed mother.
I was tempted to run up and bury my face in Bambi's fur, but I knew better. Appearances counted, and no one in Hell was to be privy to how sweet the Hounds really were. Not that they weren't deadly. . .they were, but only to the enemies of my father.
I was disappointed that General George wasn't standing duty, but I was delighted to see Bambi. She purred as I passed. I blew her a quick kiss. I missed them terribly. Their fur was so soft and silky and they smelled like brownies.
"Hi Bambi," I whispered when I was sure no one was watching. "I wish General George was here too."
"He's a little busy, but he sends his love."
I froze and gaped at her.
"Did you hear me?" she asked excitedly.
Her lips never moved, but her eyebrows waggled like crazy.
"Is that you, Bambi?" I asked, sure I was going nuts.
"Yes! Your powers are near if you can hear me. I've waited so long for this, my sweet child."
"Um. . .are you talking through your eyebrows?" I didn't want to insult her, but I had to know.
"Oh yes, dear. We eat with our mouths and talk through our brows. Never have bad breath that way." She leaned in and quietly informed me, "And we've been known to poop rainbows."
I bit down on my lips hard and tried to stifle my laugh. She made bizarre sense and that concerned me, but I was so happy to talk to her I ignored the oddities and the ass shooting rainbows part.
"Have you always been able to talk?"
"Yes, of course, but you couldn't hear us until you were ready," she replied.
"Can everyone hear you?"
"No, no, only the special ones. Your cousin Astrid could hear us," she said as she giggled joyously.
That didn't surprise me at all. Astrid was a True Immortal and as special as they come. I couldn't wait to visit her on Earth no matter how crabby her pregnancy had made her.
"I feel like crying," I told her as I leaned in for comfort. "I used to pretend you were my mom."
"I know, baby. I love you like my own and I always will. Go in to the party before someone sees us. Maybe I could come over for a sleepover before you leave."
"I would love that. Do you promise?" I asked.
"Do I promise what?" a thin and nasal voice demanded. "Dixie, what are you doing loitering on the front steps with the animals? It's not fitting and your father will
not be pleased."
My father's pregnant consort Amanda looked me over with disdain.
"I was just. . ." I mumbled as I tried to think up a legit lie.
"Were you talking to your imaginary friend?" Her condescending laugh grated on my ears and brought tingling to my fingertips. My sisters could give me all the crap they wanted about Blanche—they loved me. This bitch could not.
I turned and leveled her with a stare I'd learned from my father. To my great delight she backed off in fear. "What I do and whom I speak to is no concern of yours, Amelia," I said in a voice I didn't know I possessed.
"My name is Amanda," she hissed, drawing up to her full height, which was a good six inches less than mine. At five foot nine I dwarfed her.
"Whoops." I smiled and shrugged. "My bad. And Amanda, I wouldn't call the Hell Hounds animals. They get insulted easily and they're always hungry."
Her overly made up eyes widened in terror and she made a hasty retreat back into the palace. Why the Hell my father decided to knock this one up was beyond me. Sure, she was beautiful, but he'd had some fantastic consorts over the years. For the life of me, I didn't get this one.
"You might want to try being nice to your father's lover," Cole, my father's second in command, admonished me as he stepped out of the shadows. Geez, this freakin’ guy was everywhere.
"Yep, you're right. However, that goes both ways, Cole, and my father's consort is rude."
"She's an elder and should be respected. She carries the heir to Hell in her body," he said reverently.
That was up for debate according to my sisters, who were positive the child wasn't my dad's, but I had no desire to debate that rumor with the humor-free Cole.
"You're right, Cole."
His eyes shot to mine in surprise. "So you will apologize?"
"I certainly will," I gushed sweetly. "As soon as she apologizes to me."
With that I brushed past him and made my entrance into the palace. I could swear I heard Bambi giggle as I left a shocked Cole in my wake.
***
Hell On Heels Page 6
