by Jayde Scott
I nodded, annoyed. "Were you ever planning on spilling the beans?" He hesitated. "Tell me the truth, Dad."
"Obviously, I didn't want to worry you," he said, eventually. "I know the boy and you have a bond, which is about the only reason I let him stay here with us. Let's just say, now he's here, leaving Hell isn't an option, not without a few bodyguards and constant supervision."
That certainly explained the chauffeur demon's unwillingness to let us out of sight. I thought Dad was worried about me, but apparently it was all about Dallas. If Dad went that far even though he barely knew Dallas, then Aunt Selena spoke the truth and I had yet more reason to carry on with my grand plan.
"So, if something happens to Dallas I'll turn into a reaper?" My laughter died in my throat. "Seriously, could my life suck even more?"
"It's a myth. Might not even be true." I could tell from the way his gaze shifted uncomfortably across the floor that he was lying.
"Yet another legend with plenty of truth to it." I sighed and jumped down from my usual spot on Dad's desk.
"Where're you going?" Dad asked.
I shrugged. "Here and there. Listen, I need some candles from the ritual room. If you smell a bit of incense and hear strange voices tonight, don't mind them. This girl's one busy bee." I beamed at him, but he didn't seem to share my enthusiasm for the plan slowly forming in my head. Maybe because he didn't know it yet. I wasn't ready to share my brilliance with him. Better to keep everyone in the dark and just let them marvel once I was done.
"Why do I smell trouble?" Dad said.
"'Cause trouble's my middle name?" I grinned.
Dad's shoulders slumped as they always did when he just couldn't be bothered with prodding and prying. "Sure, Cassie. Just don't burn the house down."
I gave him a peck on the cheek and headed out again in search of the one thing that might just put an end to all of my worries and this awful curse.
Chapter 26 – Grimoire
Dad tried to free me from my compulsion to stack up everything I've ever bought or been given throughout the years. His attempts remained fruitless and I'm still the hoarding kind. I knew bringing home all sorts of stuff would come in handy—like today. A strange sense of wellbeing enveloped me as I went through my cluttered closet, pushing clothes and shoes and what else not to the side to reach a loose panel in the floor. I pulled it out to reveal my secret lair where I kept my most previous possessions such as letters from Mum, jewellery I made in Kindergarten and a particular book I acquired a few weeks previously. Acquired may not be the right word, more like pinched from the Shadows. Since at that time I was still harbouring ambassador aspirations, I figured the book was safer in my hands than in those of a hoard of immortal warriors who might just tip the balance in the Lore court in their favour and win the ancient fight against the vampires. Balance acquired through domination, now where's the fun in that? Like every fallen angel out there, I wanted to keep this battle as blood-free yet on-going as possible.
I pulled the bundle out of the hiding place and retreated to the couch in the living room where Ginny had already arranged black candles in the chandeliers. Thick smoke rose from a golden bowl; the heavy scent of incense hung heavy in the air. I removed the coarse cloth with a flick of my wrist, revealing the old book hidden inside.
It felt dusty in my hand and smelled like it was retrieved from a grave. I hoped it was more interesting than the Necronomicon in Dad's library and offered something more useful than a quick spell on how to make a fire.
I turned the pages one after another. A ritual to fortify a door.
Easy. Even my phone could do that. A ritual to read the minds of others. Oh phuleeaaaase. I've had that particular skill since birth. Did I pick up a book for beginners? I turned it in my hands to check the cover. Nope. The title said 'advanced.' Seemed like the vampires and Shadows still had a lot to learn. Flicking through the pages, I noticed rituals for love, beauty, wealth, mind control, and what else not, but nothing useful like how to build a successful fashion label or remove an annoying curse. Not even something like transforming a girl into a domestic goddess, which would've really helped me score brownie points with Amber, who didn't know how to tidy up a room if her life depended on it.
After a few minutes, I finally found what I was looking for: an incantation for immortality. The instructions were pretty clear: get twelve Shadows to murmur what looked like gibberish to me while the high priestess was supposed to yell yet more mumbo jumbo. Simple enough, except that we didn’t have twelve Shadows hovering around Hell. I figured, since Shadows were immortals, I could surely replace them with a few of Dad's demons, which was a bit like replacing sugar with artificial sweetener when baking a cake to save calories. I did that all the time and the cake tasted just the same.
Focusing my mind, I called up a few Operandes and went through the instructions yet again, only now realising, the person one wanted to turn immortal had to be present. Shoot. I tapped a finger against my lips, thinking. The Operandes were little green demons with tusks on their heads, skin that tended to shed off like that of a snake and a tendency toward attention deficit disorder. Dallas might believe they were Hollywood actors were it not for the fact that they also tended to literally cling to a mortal because they liked all the different emotional layers that characterises humans. Once they met him, they'd pursue him for the next couple of years. But the book clearly stated the object of experimentation had to be present. Kinky would know how to solve this debacle, but he wasn't around.
My glance fell on a picture frame featuring Dad and me posing in front of an Egyptian pyramid, and that's when the answer to my dilemma came to me. I could just use a snapshot of Dallas, which I had taken a few days ago when he was asleep. I flicked open my phone and typed in a command to make the snapshot magically appear in the form of a print photo. A second later, I held a picture of Dallas in my hand. The same moment, the door opened and twelve Operandes flooded in, bowing before me, their black gowns brushing the floor in a wide arc.
I nodded, eager to start my work, and commanded them to gather around the sofa and coffee table in a circle, then lit the candles and resumed my sitting position. The Operandes commenced their chanting. Gathering my voice, I started reading from the book, stumbling over all the gibberish, wondering whether I was reading any of the words right. Halfway through, the flames started to flicker. I smiled, confident I was doing everything right, and continued. My voice resounded from the walls as I gained momentum. Somewhere outside, I thought I heard a bird's call, but I couldn't be sure.
Dallas's picture began to glow at the edges, the soft light spreading to his hair and face. I quickened my pace. From the corner of my eye, I noticed the photograph glimmering stronger. It was definitely working. Finally, I spoke the last line and leaned back against the sofa as I gazed at the picture. A last flicker and the light disappeared.
The room fell silent. I sent Dad's demons away and went to look for Dallas, ready to test his new immortality, even though I had no idea how. Piercing a dagger into his heart wasn't an option. For one, I couldn't stand the look or even the smell of blood. Come to think of it, I felt sick even thinking of anything gory. I figured observation was the best way to go. If he just gained immortality status, he sure felt differently and he'd show it. Maybe he walked more upright like Amber, so I had to look for tiny details that would give away the changes in his body.
I knocked on his door. No one answered. Frowning, I peered inside all rooms on the ground and first floor, my boots thumping against the wood panels as I ran around, frantic. Dallas was nowhere to be seen. Where could he be? Had my little incantation made him disappear? I considered summoning Thrain to help me search when my vision blurred. Stumbling back, I grabbed hold of the railing. My view changed from the soft light illuminating the hall to darkness. The moon cast a glow on the dead trees to both sides of a narrow path. It was so dark I could barely see a few feet in front of me. The smell of burned flesh wafted past, making my stomach tur
n. For a moment, my brain switched off and I just bowled over, ready to puke. And then I saw him: Dallas dashing through the trees in the distance, his breathing coming in laboured heaps. Someone whooshed past him, grabbing hold of him and whisking him high in the air. I raised my gaze up to the winged figure flying away, but the vision broke.
The hall came back into focus. I realised my back was pressed against the wall, sweat drenched my clothes. Wearily, I peeled my aching body away and forced my legs into action, taking two steps at a time as I flew down the stairs. I had no idea where Dallas was but, judging from the fact that he couldn't travel between the planes, I figured he must be around.
The entrance door squeaked under my shove. I left it open as I hurried out and almost bumped into the winged being, Octavius—Dad's best gatekeeper in Distros and a reaper I would become if Dallas ever lost his life.
Octavius released Dallas from his clutches and bowed deeply. In the soft moonlight, his pitch-black skin almost blended into the night.
Even bent forward he was taller than Dallas, and twice his size; his strong arms with claws as sharp as a hawk's peered from beneath a thin shirt that moulded around his muscly chest. His black eyes shimmered in a surprisingly human face, reminding me he hadn't always been a reaper. I shuddered. No way would I turn into something like this.
"What happened?" My gaze wandered to Dallas's pale face. His wide eyes betrayed shock. His expression seemed lost, and I wondered whether he even recognised me.
"Something chased him," Octavius said. "I had two options: either save the mortal, or charge after the creature. Since I didn't know whether there were more than one, I chose to save the mortal."
I nodded. "You chose wisely." I didn't even want to think what could've happened if the reaper decided the other way. "Did you see the thing? What was it? A demon? A soul?"
Octavius shook his head. "It moved too fast. I didn't get close enough."
"It must've been a demon," I muttered. "Maybe one of the guards confused Dallas with a straying soul."
"That was no guard," Octavius said.
"What then?" I snapped, regretting it instantly. He wasn't to blame. Fear rose inside me as realisation kicked in. Was Dad right and Amber and Aidan weren't the dieting vampires they pretended to be after all? I mean, with Dallas being the only one mortal snack around, he might just be the obvious choice.
"I don't know, Princess."
Narrowing my gaze, I peered at the reaper. "Did you see anything at all? Even if it seems insignificant."
A frown crossed his forehead, creasing his smooth skin into thin lines. "When I descended to grab him, the moonlight caught in something long and red. I thought it was hair."
"Red hair? That doesn't make any sense." Not when Aidan's locks were dark and Amber's a washed out brownish colour. I tapped a finger against my lips. "I guess they could've worn a wig." But that didn't make much sense either. For one, how could they possibly leave Distros without my help? And then why would they use such a bold wig and risk being seen?
"Shall I inform the big boss as soon as he's back?" Octavius asked.
My attention snapped back to him and I noticed the lines of impatience around his mouth. He wanted to get going and fulfil his duty. I nodded and muttered a thank you as he bowed and took of through the air.
"Come on. Let's go inside." My hand clasped around Dallas's. As though waking from a trance, he took a step forward, then stopped.
"Come on, Dallas." I pulled but he didn't budge.
He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again, and I realised all the secrets I had been trying to keep from him were about to be revealed now. Even if I tried to pretend he hadn't just flown over the hills and dying woods clutched in the iron grip of a large, winged demon, something inside me protested. I was sick of lies and deceit. Aunt Selena had predicted Dallas's departure. Well, I was ready to find out.
Chapter 27 – A deadly acquaintance
The gargoyles shifted in the darkness, sniffing the air like guard dogs, ready to raise alarm with their wailing at my command. Dallas and I were inches away from the gate when his voice boomed through the silence of the night. "What's going on here?" Even though he had been hunted by some sort of paranormal creature less than half an hour ago, his tone betrayed irritation, as though nothing could shake his cool.
I took a deep breath and turned to face him. Our eyes connected. I moistened my lips, still considering whether to tell him the truth or not. Dallas cocked a brow. He wasn't making this any easier on me. Where should I even begin?
"Do you remember when I said Dad's name was Bob and that he ran Disneyland?"
"Yes?"
I brushed a stray lock out of my eyes, averting my gaze. "Well, it's not exactly the truth."
Dallas inched closer and lifted my chin, forcing me to face him.
"Where are we, Cass?"
I winced. Why couldn't he start with an easier question, like why a paranormal being had just flown him over the woods? Or why it had two huge wings on its back and looked like it just stepped out of a Terminator movie?
"Promise me you won't freak out." I shot him the most confident smile I could muster even though inside I was shaking.
Dallas didn't return my smile. "Just say it. I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation for all of this." The frown on his face told me he was just trying to convince himself.
"Hell," I whispered.
"Huh?"
Biting my lip, I took in the various emotions running through him. Confusion and excitement intermingled with a bit of mistrust. I breathed out, relieved. It wasn't that bad.
"Well, are you going to tell me?" Dallas prompted.
"I just told you." I did, didn't I? Unless my scattered brain had just played a trick on me.
Dallas laughed uncomfortably. "You said 'hell'." I nodded. "You can just spit it out. There's no need for cussing."
He thought I was just cursing. Laughter bubbled up inside me, rippling out of my throat. I wiped away the tears in my eyes at his confused look, then shook my head. "No, you don’t understand. By
'hell' I mean we're in Hell. Literally."
"As in Heaven and Hell?" Dallas asked. I bobbed my head. "So we actually died during that mugging?"
"Not exactly." I faltered, searching for words. "See, we're in Hell because my dad runs the place."
Dallas stayed silent. Why wasn't he saying anything? I searched his face but he remained expressionless, regarding me coolly. No drama wafted from him, no fear or repulsion. My throat bottled up, insecurity washing over me.
"You lied to me," he finally said. His tone came so low I could barely hear him in the eerie silence of the night.
"No." I shook my head, wide-eyed.
"You did, Cass." His lips curled into a smile, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "You said we were going to California and that your father ran an amusement park. To find out we're in Hell and your father's what everyone would call the devil makes everything you told me a big, fat lie. You should've trusted me."
He didn't even blink at mentioning Dad's name. "I'm sorry," I whispered because for once no words could betray my true emotions. I was so disappointed at myself, at him, at everyone. I had never been one to feel sorry for myself, and yet here I was swallowing down on the unshed tears that threatened to choke me any second. Maybe not being the crying kind was a blessing for a change because I didn't want to humiliate myself even more.
"Being sorry isn't enough." He let out a huff and ran a hand through his hair. "What are you?"
Now he made me feel like a freak, which ignited my defensive nature. I pushed out my chin defiantly. "I'm Cass, but you may call me Princess of Darkness."
"I'm going home," Dallas said.
"No." My eyes started to burn. Aunt Selena had been right.
Dallas would leave. Why didn't I lock the house so he couldn't venture out? What had he been doing outside anyway? "Just look at me. I'm like you," I said softly. "It's not my fault my dad's a fallen angel."<
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Dallas's eyes pierced into me, making my heart bleed at the contempt I saw in there. "You're not like me, Cass. I'm not a liar.
When Amber warned me, I should've listened. Aidan ruined her life.
I'm not going to add to the plate. As much as I like you, I want nothing to do with all this paranormal stuff." Throwing me a last glance over his shoulder, he walked down the narrow path into the house. I stared after him as he departed. He was probably packing his belongings this instant, ready to leave me behind like it had been his plan all along.
Tears clouded my vision and spilled onto my cheeks. My emotions threatened to choke me. Somewhere at the back of my mind I remembered the ancient book and the ritual I had just performed.
The thought registered that, unless the spell hadn't worked, he was a paranormal being himself now, whether he wanted it or not. He had yet another reason to hate me forever.
It was my nature to be good at deceiving, but all this time I hadn't really wanted to lie to him. I just thought he wouldn't understand. No one ever did. Not even Aidan and his friends, whom I had tried to help for years, yet they still despised me because I wasn't like them. I thought Dallas would be different because we shared a bond. Turned out, not even the one with whom I shared a bond wanted me.
Wiping my tears off with my top, I trudged down the narrow path away from the house into the nearby woods, seeking some solitude. Already I felt the comforting silence of the night enveloping my mind. Dad was right. I didn't belong among the other immortals and certainly not among humans. I belonged here, with the other fallen angels and demons. It was time to take my position seriously and embrace my place as Dad's successor. Better stuck here forever where people actually liked me than where my heart would be broken over and over again. Although, after the fight with Dallas, I doubted anyone could ever hurt me more.
I reached the trees and kept going. The canopy of thick branches filtered most of the moonlight, but some rays found their way through, casting a golden glow on the dry earth. My steps thudded through the eerie silence of the night. Twigs snapped under my feet, the sudden noise jerking me out of my thoughts. I peered around me and realised I had walked farther than I intended. The air smelled of burned flesh here, probably gases from the volcanoes in the distance, and yet I had never noticed it before.
