by Gwen Hayes
And I had betrayed her and had been foolish enough to think I might get away with it.
“Theia,” my father began as he rounded the table to take her side. “This is Mara, the woman I was telling you about. She’s an interior designer in the city.”
I closed my eyes, remembering that she decorated her home in Under with human bones.
“Theia?” my father asked, his mouth shaped in a quirky smile that was trying too hard.
I tried to remember to breathe. Mara was touching him, her arms wrapped around his in quiet but deadly possession. “Don’t hurt him,” I cried out.
My father’s smile turned into a look of disappointment that I was well acquainted with. “Theia,” he warned.
“Darling, it’s all right. I think it’s sweet that she’s worried,” Mara said to my father. To me, she said, “I wouldn’t dream of hurting your father, lamb. Now, sit. If we’re to become friends we must begin with this amazing meal Muriel prepared for us. We wouldn’t want anyone to get hurt”—she paused—“feelings.”
My heart galloped at her warning, so I slid into a chair. I had to think. Though panic battled valiantly for the upper hand, I had to stay cool. So far, my father remained clueless that his girlfriend was a demon. I had to hope that was a positive thing. He’d become so gaunt while I was away that I’d originally assumed it was because my disappearance had crushed him. Perhaps, instead, Mara had been slowly draining him all this time. . . . Play along. Stay calm.
“Forgive my manners,” I said. “I’m understandably worried about my father.”
He chuckled. “I’m a grown man, Theia. You needn’t worry about me.”
Mara winked at me, and I wanted to sob. The tension was so thick; I didn’t understand how Father couldn’t feel it, but he carried on serving from the warming dish as if nothing were amiss.
“Father, I need to go wash my hands. I just arrived home, remember? May I be excused?”
“Certainly.” He nodded, obviously impressed with my concern about hygiene.
As I left the table, Mara sent me a warning, arching her brow dramatically. What was she so worried about? I couldn’t do anything to her. And I could hardly flee and leave my father alone to deal with the mess I’d made.
I ran into the bathroom, shutting the door behind me forcefully. The sight of myself in the mirror gave me a fright. How could Father not sense something was amiss? I was pale as a ghost.
I fumbled for my phone. Haden barely had out “Hello” before I whispered wildly, “She’s here. Oh, my God, Haden, she’s in my house.”
“Who is?” he asked, though I heard his keys jingle as if he were already on his way to the door. “Mara?”
“Yes. She’s been dating my father. She’s here for dinner. What do I do?”
“My mother and your father are dating?”
I didn’t even want to think of that just yet. They weren’t going to get married, after all. She was just using him to get to me. And it was working. But still—I didn’t ever want to be Haden’s sister, step- or not.
“Haden, focus. Mara is in my dining room. She’s acting like she just met me. My father thinks she is an interior designer he met in San Francisco. I’m supposed to be washing my hands.” I turned on the faucet.
I heard his truck start. “I’m on my way over. Just stay calm. She’s dangerous, but not nearly as powerful here as she is in Under. She’s still tricky, though. It’s likely that she’s playing with you right now, to scare you.”
“It’s working. I have to go back in there. What are you going to do?”
“I’ll park down the street and skulk around the windows.” Oddly, that made me feel better. “Honestly, if she was going to make a big power play, she wouldn’t have given you any warning. She wants to jangle your nerves, Theia. Stay calm and try to figure out what she’s after by coming here.”
I didn’t want to hang up the phone. I felt so much better talking to Haden. Safer. But I had to return to the formal wainscoted dining room of death.
I hadn’t noticed before, but Mara was sitting in my usual chair, a tactical move on her part to downplay my importance in my own home, I’m sure. As I sat across from her, she winked at me again. The weight of Father’s earnest wish for me to like her felt like concrete blocks chained to my feet while I was trying to stay above water. She was evil incarnate, and he was pinning all his hopes on her. She was going to use him to control me, and what choice did I have but to let her?
I pushed the food around on my plate and listened to them talk, trying to decipher any hidden meaning in her side of the conversation. She seemed perfect for my father—cultured, pleasant, and intelligent. Mara was on her game, as Donny would say.
I knew when Haden arrived. I could feel his presence outside the window—our bond was getting stronger. Was it because of our love or because of the demon blood? Mara knew he was there too. The cold fire in her eyes ignited and she nodded her head towards me as if to say, “Touché.”
Father gathered our dishes and talked of the dessert Muriel had left for us. I offered to get it, but Mara suggested that we use the reprieve for some girl talk. Father beamed at the idea, and I knew he would take twice as long to serve the cake as necessary so that we would have plenty of time to chat.
As soon as he was out of earshot, I said, “Why are you here?”
Mara sat back in her chair, looking so prim in her designer suit, so unlike her true self. She even wore pearls, no doubt to impress upon my father how suitable they were for each other. “I made you a promise, dear. Don’t you remember? I told you I would be the mother you never had.”
I choked on a sob. Her words were so refined, yet the meaning was clear. I hadn’t gotten away from Mara. She had no intention of letting me go, but she was a cat to my mouse; she intended to bat me around until I was too scared of my fate to run any longer. She wanted my heart to stop beating from fear before she devoured me.
“Let my father go. He has nothing to do with us. It’s me you want.”
She clucked her tongue at the suggestion. “I adore successful men, Theia. I can’t just let him go now. Not before I’ve had my fill.” She tipped her head. “I’m sure you know exactly what I’m talking about.”
Mara knew the way her poisonous blood affected me. She knew I had urges because she put them there. Her wickedness flowed alongside my blood. I already belonged to her, much like the souls she kept for her whimsy in Under.
“Besides, Pussycat, I’ve missed you. You belong with us in the underworld. You know it, I know it, and Haden knows it. Let’s just hope the rest of your friends don’t learn it the hard way while the two of you muck around in all your well-intentioned denial.”
Father returned with dessert, oblivious to the way her eyes had changed, the onyx pupils overtaking the white until they were like deep black pits of despair.
What she’d said was probably true. It had hurt to be away from my friends and family, but I couldn’t deny that part of me was more comfortable in Under now. Maybe it was because I was less likely to hurt someone—or eat someone—there. My own realm was safer without me in it.
But if I were honest with myself, I’d admit to missing Under, even if only a little. Under was a frightening place, but it was also strangely beautiful in many ways. It had a Lure of its own.
Haden had courted me there. . . . It would always be special.
When I lived in Under, I’d found a book about portals in the massive library in the castle. The library was on a different floor every time I visited, but the book stayed the same. It told of many different worlds and realms that opened up from the portal. It seemed that none were inherently good or evil at their inception, but time and the inhabitants warped each to what it became.
The book may have been the history of the worlds or a fairy tale. It was always hard to tell, but it made me wonder what Under would have been if a different demon had reigned instead of the one now making eyes at my father across the table.
On cue,
Mara spoke. “Darling, Theia was just telling me all about the nice young man she’s been seeing.”
My father and I both looked at her with equal alarm. What is she doing?
He spoke first. “Theia is not allowed to date. She needs to concentrate on school and her music.”
“She’s seventeen. It’s unnatural to expect her to stay away from young men her own age.”
“They are a distraction she doesn’t need,” he answered.
Mara actually engaged my father in an argument over the merits of allowing me to date Haden. What was she up to? After several minutes, Father began to relent. Mara smiled at me, like we were on the same side.
She set down her fork. “Let’s all do something this weekend. Something fun. We’ll invite her young man.”
My father sputtered on his after-dinner coffee. “I’m not sure—”
“Don’t you want to meet him? I think it would be far less pressure if she introduced him to you in a relaxed setting.”
I hadn’t said a word, not one. I didn’t want to contribute to this conversation in any way.
Mara looked at me over the rim of her coffee cup, her pinkie curled slightly in a regal testament to how well she already knew my father. After she sipped, she said, “Then it is settled. The four of us will get together this weekend. Theia, I will leave it to you to convince your friend of the merit of this plan. We’ll let the young people decide what we’ll do.”
I looked to my father for support, but he’d already given in to her whim. I faked yet another smile and agreed to the plan.
After supper, Father needed to drive Mara back to the city. She kept glancing at the window in a knowing way and reminded me to urge my young man to join us this weekend. It was important for all four of us. It was, in her words, imperative.
As soon as they pulled away from the drive, I ran to the kitchen, where Haden was already coming through the back door despite the lock. I meant to ask him how he did that, but instead I just propelled myself into his arms.
He wrapped around me securely, one hand holding the back of my head and the other on my waist. I wanted to crawl inside him where it was safe. Despite everything to the contrary, Haden was the safest place I knew.
His cheek brushed against mine, the stubble against my skin a reminder of our physical differences. Where I was soft, his body was taut, and the contrast spun little wheels of delight in my stomach. I pushed against Haden harder, wanting to feel every inch of him on me.
“I’m sorry I brought all this terror into your life,” he murmured into my ear.
It wasn’t his fault, I wanted to tell him, but first I needed to be closer to him. I pulled back just enough that I could look into his eyes, into the heat I always found there. They were dark, so very dark, and I felt like I could fall forever into the depths of them.
His gaze caressed me, soothing my fear while igniting something else. Something more primal than fear. He paused on my lips, and I couldn’t help but lick them in response. Like tinder to a flame, the awareness sparked between us and he crushed my mouth to his.
Whenever Haden touched me, I lost the shy girl inside of me to the woman I was just getting to know. In conversation, the mere words that described kissing would cause me to blush, but when we collided into kisses, I was the opposite of bashful. Bold desires and yearning temptation overtook me every time.
Haden deepened the kiss, pulling sensation from the center of my soul. His lips left mine to smolder a line of hot kisses down my neck and onto my collarbone. We were losing control. When I felt his warm hands on the skin beneath my shirt, he groaned and wrenched away from me, his breath ragged.
He turned away, leaning heavily against the sink. His arms were shaking as he tried to gather his breath and his mind.
Haden was on the precipice of a hell of my making. I could push him all the way over; I knew that instinctively. He was strong, but I could take him. Have him. Part of me wanted the fall, the oblivion, the rapture. It wasn’t even the demon blood inside me that craved it. No, it was the human.
I thought of the first time I’d seen him in Under, dressed in tails and a top hat. He’d shaken me loose from the foundation of my life in the time it took him to bow and remove his hat.
He turned on the water, splashed himself with it. Even then I knew I could slither across the kitchen and wind myself around him. I could whisper things into his ear—tell him what I wanted and give voice to what I knew he wanted too. It wouldn’t take much to break the fragile hold he had on himself with the much stronger one I had on him.
I could have what I wanted so badly at that moment. But I would lose everything I wanted more.
Everything.
I let him leave the kitchen, giving him the space he needed to regain control while I tried to wheedle some sanity back into my own head. I hated stifling my desires after just recently finding the courage to be true to myself, but I couldn’t go around doing whatever I wanted and ignoring the consequences. I needed to find the median between the old Theia who let the world walk over her and the new one who wanted to steamroll her way through.
Later, after we’d each found our quiet strength, I told him about his mother’s fervent wish for us to double-date that weekend. He seemed to think we should go along with her, something about keeping your enemies close. The best way to protect my father was to keep him in the dark, Haden thought.
Before sleep that night I said a silent prayer that he was right.
* * *
The mist wrapped the world in cotton, muting all sound and color. I shivered from a chill that began deep in my bones and radiated through the rest of my body. I was awake in Under again.
My nightgown startled me, a red satin sheath that felt cool against my skin as I walked. It rippled like ruby water.
It wasn’t mine.
I would never have chosen such a gown for myself—or the color. It was cut too low and held up by thin spaghetti straps. The shade, as red as blood, contrasted with my skin and the white mist. No, not something I would have chosen for myself.
There was no place to go but forward. I couldn’t see much of the path ahead of me, but the trail was edged in barbed spikes, which I took as a warning, so I stayed in the middle. The wind whispered words, names, and they rushed past my ears like tickles. Names of people? Some of them were recognizable; others were strange to me.
My heart beat a tattoo of fear mingled with anticipation. Where would this path lead? Another garden of bones? Had Haden sent for me? I didn’t feel the same sense of wonder that I did the night of the red and black petals. I didn’t think he was there—I couldn’t feel him at all. And while I was infused with a healthy dose of self-preservation fear, the sense of foreboding doom was also absent this trip.
As scared as I was, Under also made me feel curiously alive. My skin tingled, not unpleasantly. My senses seemed to open and each one heightened and became sharper. I smelled something sweet and fruity but like nothing I recognized.
The path began to curve. As I continued, I realized it was spiraling in on itself like a snail, the circle getting smaller and smaller until it turned me around and stopped abruptly. A wall of mist on all sides boxed me in, blinded me, and prevented me from going any farther. I slid my foot out in front of me slowly—an inch past my toes the path dropped into nothingness. Testing the area around me, I realized that there was no ground but that where I stood. I had no idea how far the drop would be if I stepped off, and there was no way to retrace my trail because it had disappeared behind me.
My pulse leaped in my throat. I was trapped in the realm of nightmares, and Haden probably didn’t even know I was in danger. I’d gotten myself into a mess and I was going to have to find my own way out of it.
I reached my hand through the mist and it became substantial, not like mist at all. Like gelatin that hasn’t thickened all the way. Convincing myself it was better than the alternative, I took a step into the abyss and hoped for . . . I don’t know what I hoped for. I o
nly knew I couldn’t continue to stand in place and hope for rescue.
I didn’t fall—but I did sink a bit. I took another step and another and, though it was slow going, I managed to move through the whiteness that surrounded me. One misstep caused me to tumble, but rather than fall down—as down seemed to be a murky concept wherever I was—I floated. I began to use my arms and legs to swim through my environment. A patch of blue caught my eye and I moved towards it and the whiteness around me became fluffier in appearance.
I was swimming in clouds.
It was like being underwater, but I could breathe. The red sheath I wore kept me from kicking as hard as I’d have liked, but I found a rhythm and began to enjoy the sensation of weightlessness. The blue opening in the clouds grew larger and when I poked my head through the clouds, I was dangling above the earth.
Below my perch, quite a ways down, was a beautiful patch of huge, bright flowers surrounded by the greenest of green grass. I wanted to get down there. It looked so beautiful. The cloud I was on began descending slowly towards the ground as if I had willed it. When I got close, I jumped off and it disappeared.
It took a few moments of walking on shaky legs to feel normal again. I had been weightless, after all. The grass beneath my bare feet was damp with dew, but the sun was shining brightly and kept me warm.
The flower bed drew my eye. The flowers were waist-high and each had a little smiling face. As I neared them, I realized they were what I had smelled up in the clouds. So sweet and fruity—almost like candy. Each color had its own unique scent. I held the stem of one and inhaled deeply, feeling the fragrance travel through my nasal passages and then through the rest of me. I tasted the sweet essence as much as I smelled it. A feeling of absolute tranquillity floated through me.
The flowers giggled when I smelled them, but didn’t speak. The blue ones were my favorite. They smelled like cotton candy.