1 Straight to Hell

by Michelle Scott

  When I re-entered the church courtyard, William was nowhere to be found. I drove home alone.

  Jas was no longer sprawled out on the couch, but unforgivably maudlin music drifted up from the basement. It was the Barry Manilow CD that I always tormented her with when she wouldn’t get up in the morning. Now she was using it to torture herself.

  I knew she liked Tommy, but had no idea that she was so in love with him. After all, she’d treated him as carelessly as all of her other boy toys. But I didn’t have the energy to muster so much as an ounce of pity for my stepsister. Jas would have to work out her heartache herself.

  I fed Tea, washed a couple of glasses that had been left in the sink, and turned out the kitchen lights. Passing through the living room, I noticed that the couch was still in disarray from my passionate entwining with William. I straightened the cushions and folded the afghan, wanting to erase the evidence of what had taken place. I was ashamed at how easy I’d given in to his charms. Thank God, I’d come to my senses. Because if I’d told Ted that I wanted Grace to live with him, he would have been at the apartment in under an hour with a new custody agreement so ironclad that an army of attorneys wouldn’t have been able to crack it.

  I shuddered at the thought.

  I stopped in the girls’ room to kiss them goodnight before I went to bed. Ari slept in the top bunk, curled in a tight ball and clutching a ragged, stuffed dog. Tomorrow, we’d have that chat about how she could not leave the playground at lunchtime.

  I sat on the bottom bunk to kiss Grace, but her bed was empty. “Grace,” I whispered. I patted down the mattress, to make sure I hadn’t missed her. “Grace?”

  My heart tripped over itself as I crossed the hallway and went into my own bedroom. I flipped on the lights, but my little girl wasn’t in my bed, either. The bathroom was empty as well.

  I ran down the stairs to the basement. Jasmine lay on her bed with her arms flung over her face. “Jas, where’s Grace?”

  Jasmine muttered something.

  “Jas?”

  “She’s sleeping, I said.”

  My stomach was like an elevator that was free-falling to the bottom floor of a skyscraper. Feeling giddy, I charged back up the stairs to look in the girls’ room once more.

  I want to see you right now, Lilith Straight!

  It was Miss Spry, shouting at me from the otherworld. Suddenly, I knew right where my daughter was.

  All of the artifice – the jail cell, the hallway, my mother’s moonlit path, Miss Spry’s office – had been stripped away leaving nothing. To try to speak of it now, to describe it in some way, is impossible. Was it dark? Yes. Hot? Yes, in a way. Stifling would be a better word. The very air suffocated me, crawling down my throat. I dropped to the ground, my cheek on the slimy floor, fighting to catch my breath.

  Get up.

  Miss Spry’s voice spoke inside my head, drowning out every other thought. I pushed myself to a sitting position and struggled to stand. With nothing to hang onto, the task seemed impossible. And once I got to my feet, a sudden lunge of vertigo knocked me back down.

  GET UP!!

  Somehow I did, though I staggered like a drunkard as I tried to keep my balance.

  “You’ve made me very unhappy, Lilith Straight.”

  The lights went up, and I yelped when I saw her. The ice-blue eyes, the sensuous mouth, these were gone. Her skin on her back and arms was bumpy and slimy, like the back of a toad, and her pale underbelly pulsed as if she’d recently swallowed a hundred living beings who were still writhing in pain. Her face was human, but barely. Orange hellfire raged in the pits of her eyes, and her mouth was a cavern of jagged teeth, ready to shred me to bits. This was not the glamorous movie star, nor was it the monster I’d glimpsed whenever she got angry. No, here was a creature made of hate. “You’ve broken our deal for the last time.”

  I wanted to defend myself, but couldn’t. All I could do was cover my head with my arms and moan.

  “Look over there,” she said, and I did. Curled on the floor, sound asleep, was Grace. “Meet my new succubus.”

  With a horrible shock, I realized what I should have known all along. Just as I had followed my mother into the Devil’s service, and she had followed my grandmother and so forth back to Sarah Goodswain, Grace now had to follow me. “NO!”

  “She’s young, but she’ll be effective. I’ll put her to work immediately.”

  “Oh God,” I moaned. “Jesus.” I began to weep.

  Miss Spry laughed, a sound that scraped backwards against my nerves. “God? You want to call for His help?” She tilted her hideous head back and bellowed loud enough to make the ground trembled. “God?! Are you there? Lilith needs your help.”

  Then she fell silent, and I heard nothing but a soft moan that escaped from Grace’s lips as she battled a nightmare.

  “He won’t save you, Lilith. And He certainly won’t save your daughter.”

  I rushed past Miss Spry, thinking only to put myself between her and my little girl. I knew it was pointless to try to fight that monster, but I had to make a stand. I couldn’t let Grace think I’d deserted her. But before I could reach her, my feet slipped out from under me, and I fell, hitting my knees.

  Ignoring the pain, I continued on, crawling toward my daughter, but the ground grew even slicker. There was nothing to grab onto so that I could pull myself along, nor was there any friction that would allow my feet to push. My daughter was only a few yards from me, but I couldn’t touch her. And when I tried to scream out her name, the smothering air once more clogged my throat, choking me.

  “I will use that child well, I promise you.” With no effort at all, Miss Spry walked past me and picked up my sleeping daughter. She grinned. It was a terrible expression, hungry and bloodthirsty. The grin of the wolf who sees Red Riding Hood skipping down the path. The grin of a rapist watching a single woman hurrying to her car in a dark parking lot. “And you, my dear, will stay here.”

  I know you’ve heard stories of Hell. Everyone has. The tortures, the cunning punishments. The wailing of sinners, the rooms filled with excrement. The endless pain and suffering. But let me tell you, that’s not Hell. In fact, I would have gladly taken any of those things in return for what I was getting.

  “I’ll do anything.” My throat was so dry I croaked like a frog. “Please. Anything at all.”

  Miss Spry loomed over me. “So you’ve said a hundred times before.”

  Seeing my helpless daughter gave me enough strength to reach out and put a hand on Miss Spry’s leg. The touch repulsed me, sending a wave of sickness throughout my body, but I hung on. “I swear I will do what you ask. Always. I’ll give you my soul.”

  She kicked my hand away. “I already have it.”

  “But Helen, you took it by force, and what good has that done you?” In the dimly lit space, Mr. Clerk’s white pants and shirt appeared blindingly white, and I had to slit my eyes against the glare. “And I’ll wager that, once she wakes up, the little girl will feel the same way.”

  Knowing that there was someone in my corner made me bolder. “I want you to have it,” I said. “Please, I’m begging you to take it.”

  “It doesn’t get better than that, Helen,” Mr. Clerk said.

  Miss Spry quivered, and enough of her humanness returned so that it no longer hurt to look at her. Finally, she said, “one more chance.”

  I sobbed in relief.

  “But I will keep your child until you’ve proven to me that you are fully mine.”

  And, of course, I didn’t trust her. But what choice did I have? I nodded.

  “It’s settled,” Miss Spry said, and she vanished, taking Grace with her.

  Mr. Clerk helped me to my feet. “What should I do,” I asked. “How can I prove that I’m hers?”

  Mr. Clerk pressed his lips together in a line. His eyes were hard. “I don’t know,” he said. “But whatever you choose, it damn well better make her happy.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  How c
ould I possibly make Miss Spry happy?

  The first thing I thought of was to tell Ted that he could have custody of Grace. But as I considered this, I realized it was no longer enough to give my daughter up. The stakes were higher now. I had to make a much grander gesture in order to prove that I was completely devoted to the Devil.

  Giddy with exhaustion, I staggered into my own room and laid down, fully clothed, on the bed. I would close my eyes for a minute, I told myself, and then I would come up with a plan.

  Sometime later, I jerked awake, my heart pounding. I’d been dreaming that Grace had woken up in Miss Spry’s arms and was screaming in terror. In fact, her pleading cries still rang in my ears.

  Only, no, those weren’t shrieks of alarm I’d heard, but something else: the high-pitched beep of the timer on the microwave. The clock read 5:30, so it was much too early for either Jas or Ari to be up. Maybe it was Mr. Darcy, or better yet, Mr. Clerk. Someone – anyone! – to give me some help. But coming into the kitchen, I saw that it wasn’t a supernatural guest, but a very human one: Tommy.

  “I didn’t mean to wake you up.” His knit cap was dusted with snow, and his cheeks were rosy from the cold. “But I was freezing, and I wanted to make some tea.”

  “That’s fine.” I slumped down on a kitchen chair, disappointed that no one had come to rescue me.

  “You want a cup?”

  I waved the request away. I was pretty sure that drinking anything right now would make me sick.

  “You’re pretty pissed at me, aren’t you?” He brought his hot water and tea bag to the table and sat next to me. His smooth face was tense with worry.

  My heart melted. “Why would I be mad at you?”

  “Because I’m leaving. And because I upset your sister.” He wrapped his hands around the steaming mug. “But I told her that she could go with me. In fact, I really want her to. I’m doing this alone, and just between you and me, I’m nervous. Some company would be nice.”

  I tried to imagine Jasmine on a holy pilgrimage. Sleeping on the streets of Calcutta or a youth hostel in Rome; hitchhiking to Lourdes or climbing the steps of Machu Pichu? A shopping pilgrimage, sure. But not a holy one. No way.

  He shyly met my eyes. “You wouldn’t come with me, would you, Lil? If I asked you to?”

  I blinked. Was he serious? “There’s the matter of the girls,” I said hesitantly.

  He reddened and gave a strangled laugh. “Of course I know you’ve got the girls. I was totally kidding!”

  But looking at his mortified expression, I wasn’t so sure.

  He took a sip of his tea. “So you’re probably wondering why I got up so early,” he said.

  “To say good-bye,” I ventured.

  “Kind of. More like to give you a going-away present.” He stood. “Follow me.”

  He led me to the front window in the living room. Parting the blinds, he said, “Tah dah!”

  There, sitting in my assigned parking spot, was my car.

  “Jas told me that you’d had car trouble yesterday, so I borrowed her keys and went to take a look at it. It was only a bad battery, so I replaced it. And, no, you don’t have to pay me for it.” He held up his hands as if I’d tried to argue with him. “Like I said, it’s a going-away present.”

  That anyone could be so kind overwhelmed me. Unable to speak, I hugged him tightly. William Darcy, I thought, you are wrong. Dead wrong. Tommy LeFevre is not a fraud. His spirit is as pure as they come. I couldn’t imagine him making a deal with the devil and allowing a demon to infest his soul. Though, if he had, Miss Spry would loved nothing more than to watch him battling his conscience.

  Oh, shit.

  Tommy was my golden opportunity, but I had to do things right. I couldn’t hurt him just a little. No, if I wanted to please Miss Spry, I’d have to decimate him.

  Looking at Tommy, I knew that I couldn’t be so cruel as to destroy such a wonderful person.

  Then again, remembering Grace’s empty bed, I knew that I could.

  My succubus was not only back and ready for action, she was buzzing with excitement at the prospect of destroying Tommy.

  We consulted together about how to best corrupt his unblemished soul. While he fixed himself some breakfast, I studied him like a predator, looking for the perfect place to strike.

  “…and after that, I want to visit a Nepalese monastery. There’s this one that offers classes on meditation. Vipassana meditation.” He poured more soymilk on his wheat flakes. “I’m telling you, this pilgrimage is going to be amazing.”

  My demon nudged me. Get him to cancel the trip, she said.

  That was a good idea, but not a great one. Although getting him to walk away from the pilgrimage wouldn’t be easy, it wouldn’t be impossible. If I told him that I had cancer, he’d stay. In fact, if I asked him for a loan, he’d stay. He was so goodhearted, he’d give me the money even if it meant he couldn’t go on his trip.

  No, I needed something better. As much as I hated to, I had to start thinking like Miss Spry. And, after a moment, I had it. If I could turn Tommy away from the path of good – if I could make him want to give up his trip – that would certainly get the old hag’s attention.

  “Oh, and Durbar Square,” he continued. “I can’t miss that, either. Stacy used to talk about it, and I know she would want me to see it.” He ducked his head, looking a little embarrassed. “Sometimes, I picture her in heaven or wherever, looking down on me. I like to think that when I’m going on my trip, she’ll be there, too.”

  I’d been nodding and smiling encouragingly, but now I stopped. I’d found my first place to attack. I needed to destroy his love of the mystery he’d been chasing all his life. Get ready, I told my succubus. Here we go.

  “Tommy, what color is my aura today?”

  He blinked, surprised by my question. Then, seeing that I was serious, focused on the space above my head. “It’s still gone.”

  “And it’s been gone since the day my mother died, right?”

  “Yes.” He’d never seen me take his religious mumbo-jumbo seriously, and now he knew something was up. Taking a deep breath, I explained a little of what had happened to me. Only I changed the facts. I told him about being hit by the car and dying, of course, but not about the jail cell or Miss Spry. And certainly not about meeting his sister.

  His eyes widened. “You had a near death experience?”

  I nodded. “But the thing is, Tommy, there’s nothing there. Nothing at all.”

  His surprise became caution. “Not everyone with an NDE visits the next world. Some stay near their bodies.”

  “No, I did leave this world. I’m telling you that there’s nothing there. No God, no higher power. Nothing. It’s only a lot of empty space.” I took his hand in mine. My demon gave my face just the right amount of sadness, and my voice a quaver that made me sound truly sorry. “I couldn’t bear to tell you before, but now that you’re leaving, I can’t stand the idea of keeping up the lie. I knew that you, of all people, would want to hear the truth.”

  “I don’t believe you.” He was getting angry.

  “It’s all true, and I can prove it. But I warn you, you won’t like it.”

  He set his jaw. “Okay. Show me.”

  I drew him through the nearest otherworld portal. Now that I was completely onboard with Miss Spry, I was also in sync with my demon. So as my mother and Miss Spry had done, I easily manipulated the otherworld realm to mirror what I wanted Tommy to see: an endlessly unbroken stretch of cold, gray, empty space.

  “This is all there is?” Despite the vast space that stretched out like the edges of eternity, Tommy’s voice was peculiarly flat.

  “This is it.” I was glad to have Tommy’s hand to cling to since the overwhelming blankness terrified me. It wasn’t as bad as the hell I’d come from a few hours ago, but it was horrible.

  We walked in one direction and then another, but every way we went we were met with more empty space. Tommy began to run, dragging me behind him. But ev
ery place we went was just like every place we’d left.

  “I’m dreaming,” he said, sounding panicked.

  “No,” I said.

  “Then it’s an illusion! It has to be.”

  I shook my head. “You’ve seen the evidence of my death yourself. And now that I’ve been dead, I can cross between worlds. Tommy, I’m sorry, but this is the afterlife.”

  When I felt that he was at his most vulnerable, I let the emptiness part a bit so that he could see his sister. Stacy, as despondent as before, looked up in surprise when she saw us. “Tommy?”

  “Stacy!” He ran towards her.

  “I was wrong about all of it,” she said. Her voice shook. “There’s nothing waiting for us on the other side, Tommy. Nothing at all. It’s all a lie.”

  Those were my words, of course, and they worked a dark miracle on Tommy. I swore that I could see his faith shatter. He reached out a hand to touch his sister, but she disappeared like smoke. “Take me home,” he begged.

  Grabbing his arm, I dragged him back to my apartment. Our rapid reentry made him huff as if he’d been socked in the gut. Which, considering what he’d seen, I suppose he had.

  He looked dazed. “Was that real?”

  “Horrible, isn’t it?” I didn’t say anything more, afraid that if I did, he’d start to question the illusion. Right now, I didn’t want him thinking. I wanted him feeling.

  “But it can’t be. It can’t be!” He got off the couch and stalked up and down the room. “Religion is a part of every culture in the world! And there are miracles, and people who swear they’ve seen God!”

  I nodded. “I know. It was a horrible shock for me, too.”

  He’d begun to cry. “So it’s all a lie.”

  It’s a terrible thing to watch hope die. Tommy raged a while longer, but at last fell back onto the couch. His eyes were empty, reflections of his crushed spirit.