Time flew by until the Monday morning before Homecoming. Dance wasn’t on Mondays, so I sat in the kitchen with my mother and Satan eating breakfast.
“One week,” my mother said between sips of tea, “that’s all the time you have. If you need alterations we’re going to have to get moving.”
“What alterations?” I asked, poking my lumpy oatmeal.
“For your homecoming dress,” my mother said placidly.
“I’m going to the city this afternoon,” Satan said, a little reluctantly. My mother gave him thoughtful look and nodded.
“It would be a good idea for Dariana to go with you.”
“I guess so,” I said, but I wasn’t thrilled by the prospect. On the way to school, I hardly heard the scream of the engine over my thoughts. One week. During English I watched Lewis furtively, while I kept track of Mrs. Briggs. I was getting almost competent at following her without really thinking about it.
After class Lewis turned to me. “What’s going on?”
I stared at him wanting to push his hair out of his eyes. He needed a haircut probably, but I liked it like that. “Shopping with Satan today for my dress. I’m feeling a little bit like this is a bad idea.”
He smiled at me and cocked his head. “Shopping with Satan does sound a nightmarish. I suggest you point him in the direction of suits that will bring out his eyes. Maybe a nice pinstripe,” his eyes crinkled as he grinned.
“Thanks for the advice. I think the only thing he wants is a trench coat. He’s particular about things; they have to be the exact color of sludge. Anyway,” I said shaking my head. “I’m nervous about Homecoming, not shopping.”
“Ah,” he said, following me out into the hall. “I’m a little bit nervous myself. I haven’t gone to a social dance for a very long time.”
“It’s going to be horrible for Snowy without Devlin.”
He put a hand on my shoulder, just a brush, but it brought me up short as I turned to him. “What about you?”
I took a step away from him and took a deep breath of the nice mildewy air. “It’s always horrible for me.” I waved and left, feeling weak in the knees.
After school Satan was outside waiting for me, and I climbed in half reluctant, half eager to get this over with.
“I’m like your personal fairy godmother,” Satan said with a grin. His shirtsleeves were halfway rolled up, and his hat was on, so he didn’t look too crazy, but you could see the madness lurking in his eyes.
“Sure. Great. All you need is a pink tutu. I need to get some art supplies, too.” I lay my head back against the headrest. I didn’t feel very good. He fiddled with the radio until he suddenly pulled out, pressing me back into my seat. The trip was fast; as the trees flew past us at an alarming speed, I braced my feet against the dashboard.
“How’s school?” He asked. I glanced over at him, he looked happy and cheerful, comfortable with me like I wasn’t crazy and messed up. I scowled, thinking about Homecoming, and he looked at me then quirked one bald eyebrow. “That good?”
“Yeah.” I wasn’t sure what to say. “It was okay today, but kind of weird.”
“Weird?”
“Life without Devlin takes adjusting to.” I pulled out my knitting and started doing a row. I was getting better and better, except when I was getting worse. I felt tired. I’d gone hunting the night before but I hadn’t seen the Nether, and somehow it was less fulfilling without the mist wrapping around me. If I was honest with myself, I had to admit I looked for him when I went out and felt disappointment when I didn’t see him. It had been weeks since I’d gone hunting with Ruby and seen his shadows in the distance. Maybe he’d moved on, found something more interesting to do.
“How are you doing with Lewis?”
“What? Fine. Why do you ask?”
“I think you should bite him and see what happens.”
“Excuse me?” I asked bewildered as he started laughing, apparently thinking he was so funny.
“Oh, come on, Dari, where’s your sense of humor? It’s insane how good he is. I think if you got him in the throat just right he’d finally lose it.”
“Thanks for your really wise advice, Satan. And after I bite him I can clean all the toilets with your head.”
He laughed even louder and I sighed. It hadn’t been a very good comeback, but it was impossible for me to match his humor, particularly when I was so tired.
“What are you going to do in the city?” I asked to change the subject.
“It turns out that there was a hybrid that went missing. I’m going to interview a couple of people about that, see if I can find any links to our hybrid’s death.”
I stared at him. “Our hybrid?”
“Your brother. You and him are not pure Wilds, and that makes you hybrids, something that’s not quite one or the other. Some people make a hobby out of exterminating hybrids.” He gave me a sharp glance. “What do they teach you kids in school?”
“How did you find out about this missing hybrid?” I asked, ignoring his hobby comment.
“I’ve always gotten along remarkably well with Hotbloods. It’s gonna be fun to see my old friend again. Do you want to come?”
I looked at him then shrugged. “Sure. Why not? Maybe I can get some tips on doing bloodwork,” I said sinking down in my seat and knitting a row.
“I don’t recommend that route,” he said seriously.
“I was kidding, Satan. I’m not going to slice anyone up.”
“Bloodwork is mostly slicing up yourself. I don’t know why anyone would do it since the result is always the same—insanity, torture, death, yep, only someone already a little unbalanced would want to get into that kind of thing. I admit, it does sound tempting.”
I should have kept my mouth shut. We got to the city, and Satan drove where streets were narrow and not very clean, down by the river where rows of warehouses and docks sprawled.
“Well, let’s go then. This is going to be fun.” Satan parked the car then grinned at me.
We walked down the road and through groups of men who sat around smoking, talking, and staring at us. Satan stood out wherever he went, and he seemed to enjoy the attention. We went to a warehouse, and Satan ducked into the dim interior. I followed him wondering what brilliant plan he had.
“Satan, what a pleasant surprise to see you here. What brings you to town?” an older gentleman in a gray suit asked when he looked up from a writing pad to see Satan wandering around in his warehouse.
“This and that, this and that. Nice warehouse. What kind of stuff are you importing these days?” Satan said circling a large container.
“Nuclear warheads,” the man said grinning at Satan. “Won’t you come into the office?” We followed him up some stairs into a small room with a window that looked over the warehouse where men were unloading and moving boxes around. “Would you like coffee? No, you prefer tea don’t you. How about you, girl? Would you care for some coffee?”
I shook my head no. The Hotblood was not what I expected. He seemed more mature, calm, and stable than Satan, but there was something fascinating about his eyes. There was a light to them.
“Ace, I’m here to ask about your nephew,” Satan said. The man choked on his coffee and set down the mug to glare at Satan with glowing blue eyes that had me riveted.
“What do you know about my nephew?” The man practically spit, his entire demeanor changed. His muscles looked bunched up, his suit suddenly sizes too small, and I could see veins bulging beneath his skin as he faced Satan looking ready to swipe off his head any minute. He looked like he could do it, too.
“This is my niece, Dariana, the daughter of Helen and her husband, a Cool. I’m sure you heard about the hybrids in our family, maybe you even met Devlin.” Satan said giving my head an ungentle pat. I glared at him and felt Ace’s attention on me, the burning gaze that faded as I looked at him, fascinated by the glow that touched his eyes.
“She’s got Hot blood,” Ace said in a calm clear voice,
the complete opposite of the irrational threatening tone of a moment before. He rummaged around in a bag and pulled out a sandwich he munched absently. He gave me a glance and reaching in his bag found another sandwich to toss at me. I looked at the plastic wrapped thing and then started eating. I was starving. “Looks like we know why the love match didn’t make it,” Ace said then continued, ignoring Satan’s growl. “Lucky was a mostly good kid until he let a girl take his heart and run with it. He said they were soul mates, but that’s no reason to lose your head. She got him killed as far as I know, nothing about a blood worker like what got your boy. She’s a wannabe demon mistress. Stupid maggot to get involved with someone who’s into that. Thought love could conquer all. Swill,” he muttered.
“Demon mistress in this city?” Satan asked with great interest.
“She’d like to be,” Ace said darkly.
“Well thank you very much for your time, Ace. I’ll forget that comment about Helen for now; I wouldn’t want to put too much stress on that ticker of yours.”
Ace snorted. “For all your runes, you’re still no Hotblood, Satan. I can take you any time.”
“It’s theoretically possible,” Satan said agreeably. “In fact, I’ve recently been pummeled to unconsciousness by a Hunter Old Peter trained by the name of Lewis Axel Nialls. He has set up shop in Sanders.”
“Lewis, don’t know a Lewis. I thought Old Peter was retired. I regret having missed such a fight. I haven’t fought a Hunter for years. They’re usually above flat-out brawling.”
“Yeah, he’s not bad,” Satan said chuckling.
Ace walked us out into the sunlight waving us off while Satan still seemed in a very good mood.
“What fun,” I said as I slid into the seat beside Satan. “Now where to?”
“Demon district,” Satan said with a grin revving the engine.
I shuddered and closed my eyes remembering my last encounter with demons. “He didn’t think the demon girl had anything to do with Devlin’s death.”
“This is detective work, Dari. If you run into an aberration, you check it out. Eventually you’ll come across something relevant, and in the meantime, maybe rid yourself of a nasty problem before you have to ask Grim to help you.”
“I like Grim,” I said hanging onto the door handle for dear life as he wove in and out of cars.
“That’s because you never had to ask him for help. He makes certain you find the experience unpleasant so you’re less likely to do it again.”
I didn’t understand why he had to drive like a maniac. “So call Shelley.”
Satan sighed, cutting off a large truck. “Shelley always calls Grim. No, it’s always better to cut problems when they’re small instead of large—like weeds.”
“Aren’t you supposed to pull weeds instead of cut them? If you leave the roots they’ll grow right back.”
“Exactly!” He winked at me and I sighed, sinking down in my seat. Every time I had a conversation with him, I wished I hadn’t.
As Satan drove downtown towards all the high risers, I noticed that all the other cars were black or silver and sleek. Satan’s rumbling and choking monster got a lot of disgusted looks from the people in black suits. For some reason, they seemed to antagonize my fury, and I felt a rush of heat behind my eyes that spread through my body. I struggled against it, taking deep breaths, pulling out my knitting and doing rows, but something I saw from the corner of my eye broke my focus. I turned my head to look out the window, but all I saw were suits walking mindlessly around. It had seemed for a moment that there had been shadows reminiscent of what I’d seen when the Nether had caught the demons.
“You okay?” Satan touched my arm and I stared at him.
“Fine.” I was only seeing demons because Ace had mentioned a demon girl. Demons wouldn’t be out in the pollution-filtered sunshine.
Satan found a parking space and we walked to the door of a corner pub. The first thing I noticed when we walked through the door was how cool and dark it was inside. The second thing I noticed were the eyes on me. The tables were close together, and the businessmen who looked up at us seemed feral somehow. I stayed close to Satan as we made our way through the tables, miraculously Satan didn’t knock anything over, then we were at the bar. I slid onto a stool and pulled my knitting out of my bag. It felt cold and stuffy, like the walls were too close. I focused on my knitting, hearing Satan’s low voice as he questioned the bartender; amazingly enough he could be quiet when he wanted to.
“I’ll be back in a bit,” he said to me and gave me a concerned look before patting my shoulder and walking towards a corner. I scowled at my knitting. His pat had made me lose a stitch.
“Hi there,” someone said, sitting on the stool to my left. I nodded but didn’t look up from my knitting. “You’re not really in your kind of neighborhood, are you? Maybe you need someone to show you around.”
I stopped knitting and felt a surge of heat that had nothing to do with my tangled yarn. I looked up at the guy in a suit with his hair slicked back, smelling of pomade and shaving cream. The smell of him was overwhelming and his smile… this guy made Harris look like a boy scout. “I’m fine, thanks,” I said staring at his eyes. I thought I saw a flicker in them that made my stomach roil.
He looked me up and down in a way that made me strain not to strike out at him. “You could be fine if you had some work done on you.” He put a hand on my arm and I trembled with the effort not to throw myself at his throat. I took a deep breath, and the something in his eyes flickered and spread until the whites of his eyes were grey, a spark of red deep in his pupil grew outward as he stood staring down at me.
The knowledge that he was a demon hit me at the same time my right hand brought up my knitting needle and slammed it down through his wrist, not stopping until it was imbedded a few inches into the wood of the bar.
I stumbled away from the man who seemed to be oozing around the edges as shadows flowed out of him. His eyes became bright red as he fumbled with the head of my needle, and I heard a howling like a raging wind swirling around me. I looked around wildly and saw half of the businessmen on their feet staring at me, their faces full of the shadow, their eyes bright red as they communicated their desire to destroy me. I could feel their hate, their rage that I could exist, and their underlying fear. The fear did something to me. I felt a rush of heat that pushed back the cold, pushed back the darkness, pushed back the hate until I was burning with it from my head to my trembling feet. I couldn’t contain so much heat. The fury was so white-hot, I couldn’t feel anything that wasn’t an extension of that. I closed my eyes and burned, my whole body in agony as I embraced the heat and erased the cold. I clenched my fists, hanging on until I had nothing left.
The heat was gone as suddenly as it came leaving me empty and falling towards the floor. I was brought up with a jerk as Satan grabbed me by the back of my jacket and swung me up into his arms. I buried my face in his shirt. The rhythmic thumping of his heart steadied me. The sounds of the bar faded as the door clanged shut and I smelled the pavement and exhaust before Satan dumped me in the front seat of the car.
He started the car with a roar while I propped my head in my hands with my eyes screwed shut, trying to stay on my seat instead of sliding onto the floor. “Last time the demons didn’t have bodies,” I said, my words so weak and garbled I didn’t think he could possibly understand.
“Last time?”
He pulled out into traffic almost smoothly instead of jerking all over the place. I must have been dizzier than I’d thought. “First night home they chased me to the river. Nether…” I moaned and let myself slide to the floor so my head was on the seat.
“You didn’t mention it,” he said gruffly then drove in silence. He stopped somewhere and got out for a minute before he returned and drove on, picking up speed on the freeway, I could hear the tires on the road thrumming through the seat. I wanted to die. I was pretty sure I was dying and wanted to get it over with. For an eternity my head
didn’t just ache; it was knives jabbing and water boiling and piranhas chewing and Satan bumping over a rough road, crunching gravel, and then silence. For an entire heartbeat the pain eased before Satan grabbed me and jostled me out of the car, over the gravel, to the small stoop lit with a bare light bulb.
I blinked vaguely recognizing that it was not my mother’s house when Satan thumped on the screen door and I struggled halfheartedly to get down. Old Peter opened the door and gave me a long look before he jerked his head and stood to the side holding the door open while Satan carried me into the house.
“She’s half freezing, half feverish, she expended quite a bit of fury chasing some demons out of a pub in the business district,” Satan said. “It was fascinating. All of a sudden half of the patronage stood up, then they sat down, and she nose-dived right with them.”
“Put her on the couch for now,” Old Peter directed in his voice that wasn’t as quavering as I remembered.
“Did she burn out?” Satan asked, sounding concerned. I remembered poor Camilla and wanted to assure Satan, but all I managed was a groan before the pain made it difficult to remember where my mouth was located exactly in my head.
“The business district? Did she talk at all afterwards?” Old Peter asked. Satan made a sound that could have been a yes. “She can hear us so she’s not lost. I’d say she’s going to recover eventually, sooner, if I can get something potent into her. If you want to wait outside you can, but you take up too much space in here.”
“I have some things to do,” Satan said gruffly. “Unless I can help, I’ll get out of your hair.”
“Good night then and, Saturn, don’t worry about it. After a couple of hours of sleep, a couple of drinks, she’ll be good as new. Better, since the more she furies the more strength she’ll have for it.”
I heard a screen door slam, and I was alone with Old Peter. I felt his rough, callused hands smoothing my forehead and then he propped me up while he put something to my lips. I was glad the room was dark as I kept my eyelids shut and drank, letting the liquid slip over my tongue and down my throat. It was thick and silky with a slightly bitter aftertaste and then the pain was receding, everything got further away as I lost consciousness.
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