by Gwen Hayes
Haden Black. The sound of his name opened up a vein. Haden Black.
He was everything.
“I need to find him.”
“I’m not sure that is a good idea,” Varnie said.
I squeezed my eyes closed and bunched my fists. Remember, Theia.
All of this, my current situation, felt manufactured. A spell maybe? When had I started believing in spells? I just had a sense that I was dreaming awake, that reality had blurred edges and blind corners. I glimpsed a shadow moving in the corner, but when I turned it stopped moving. “I don’t know how to make you all understand this—but we aren’t here. Or maybe we are, but it’s an alternate version of us.”
I looked into their faces and knew they didn’t understand. I didn’t understand either. What should I do? Amelia and Donny had been uncharacteristically quiet during the whole episode. They looked spooked.
Donny cleared her throat. “I had a dream about some guy dueling with a skeleton last night. He told me his name was Haden Black.”
Amelia clutched at Donny’s arm. “I had the same dream! Only there were more boys there too. Gabe from your English class and some guy named Archibald.”
Varnie whipped his head around. “What did you say?”
Ame wrinkled her nose cutely. “I said, I had the same dream, only there—”
“You said Archibald.” He was practically accusing her.
“Yeah, and . . . ?”
He moved into her personal space warily. “I’m Archibald.”
“I thought you said you were Varnie.”
“Wouldn’t you go by your last name if your first name was Archibald? My middle name is worse. Life seems to go much smoother if I just sign everything ‘A. E. Varnie.’”
“Okay, this is all very intriguing,” Donny began, but then changed her mind. “No, this is all very creepy.” She pressed her lips together firmly and her jaw squared with tension. “Your name and your dress code are very interesting, but not what we need to be focused on. What should we do?”
“I think we wait,” I said. I began to feel a chilling darkness deep in my bones, in my soul. Whatever was coming would find me. I had a feeling it wouldn’t be long.
* * *
A note on the fridge from Muriel let me know that my father would be staying in the city that night. How convenient. I hadn’t seen him since the disjointed episodes had started. Was that another indication that this reality wasn’t true? My arsenal for fighting whatever was happening was pretty slim: I could play the violin and recite by heart every line said by Mr. Darcy in Pride and Prejudice. I was likely the most ineffectual girl to save anyone, and yet somehow I felt as if I was the one who had to save us all.
I pulled out some snacks while I concentrated on the name Haden Black. He was the key to it all. He was what was missing. My charm bracelet clinked on the plate. I held my wrist up to examine it. It seemed like I’d always worn it, but for the life of me I couldn’t remember how I’d gotten it. Another strange trick my mind was playing on me.
“Hello, Pussycat.”
A cold shot of fear spiked my blood. I dropped the plate and whirled to face a woman in my kitchen. I dimly heard the clatter of the plate hitting the floor under the roar of my heartbeat. The mad pounding of my pulse made me light-headed. I wanted to run, but all I could manage was a silent scream.
“Whoopsie. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
She traced the fingers of one hand over the countertop as she walked towards me. Her fingernails were bloodred talons. Her slinky gown was black and looked like what some women would call a slip and wear under their dresses. Silver serpentine cuffs in the shape of snakes coiled from both wrists to her elbows. As if they knew I’d noticed them, their forked tongues wiggled.
Her other hand held a pink gift bag with curly ribbons and tissue paper peeking out the top. The whole thing had been bathed in glitter and sparkles. She held it out to me, but I shook my head, the only part of me that wasn’t paralyzed in fear. Whoever she was, she was my nightmare.
The smile that stretched across her lips filled me with more dread than a sneer would have. I had a feeling she was always most gleeful when she was at her most wretched. “My sweet little poppet, don’t be rude. I’ve brought this a very long way just for you.”
My hands shook as I reached for the sack, but I could not will myself to open it.
“Relax. It won’t bite. I’m too subtle for the obvious. The suspense is just killing me. Open it.”
My lower lip trembled. I had to bite the inside to keep from bursting into tears. I removed the tissue carefully. It looked like a snow globe inside the bag. Why would she give me a snow globe? I pulled it out slowly, not trusting that it wouldn’t snap at me.
“Shake it.”
Reluctantly, I did as she asked and held it up so I could see the scene inside. The “snow” was actually red and black hearts.
“They’re rose petals. Aren’t they precious?” the scary woman said.
As I peered into the heart-shaped confetti, little figurines replayed my misplaced memories in the glass with startling clarity. All of them. And now that they were there, I longed for the perfect state of ignorance once again. I remembered all the thoughts and feelings she’d stolen . . . and also the ones I didn’t want. The fears and doubts came back like a runaway car on a roller coaster in my mind.
As the hearts began to settle on the bottom, a new scene played out in the globe. Tiny people representing my friends were being swarmed by some kind of hairy beasts and skeletons. The fight wasn’t fair—they didn’t all have weapons.
“They’re in danger.”
“Are they? Maybe they aren’t. Maybe this is a trick, my darling. Or maybe this is a choice.”
“A choice?”
She placed the globe on the countertop. “You get to choose their fate. This”—she gestured to the kitchen—“or that.” She pointed to the globe.
Her words took their time sinking into my brain. “So, if I choose this, this unreality you have concocted, then they are all safe? What about Haden?”
“Ah, there’s the real question. What about Haden? Well, you see, in this reality, you never met Haden. None of that abysmal falling in love ever happened—you’re both safe.”
“And my father?”
“He never fell ill.” Mara pursed her lips. “I’m disappointed that he did to begin with. I really thought he’d have lasted longer. I must have been greedier than I realized.”
There was a catch, of course. I just needed to figure out what it was. “Why are you offering me a do-over? I know it’s not out of the goodness of your heart.”
“Don’t be impudent, child. I’ve extended an olive branch. I’d suggest you take it.”
I began moving slowly away from her, trying to put the kitchen island between us. “Where is Haden really?”
“He’s still home, where he belongs. Where he’s always belonged.” She shrugged and we began circling the island. “He’s as mopey as ever. That boy tries my patience. But he hasn’t met you, you haven’t met him, and the world is safe from your evil, demon ways. Why aren’t you happy? It’s what you wanted, after all. You haven’t been able to control yourself as a demon. Everyone is in danger because of you. Here’s your chance to fix everything.”
All the action in the snow globe had stopped. If I could save them . . . and my father, I should. And yet I knew there was more to it, more that she wasn’t revealing to me. “Does he remember me?”
“No. You never happened. This should be an easy choice. You give up Haden and you and your friends—and your father—get to live. It will all go away as if it never happened.”
I closed my eyes and remembered what it felt like to fall in love. All of that would be gone. Mara would be more careful with Haden now. He would never get to live as a human. He’d either spend his life longing to be human or he’d embrace his demon heritage and hate himself for it. I’d seen firsthand how important his human relationships were to h
im, how much he enjoyed belonging. And did I honestly believe that he would be better off never having loved me, even though we couldn’t be together?
“You’re asking me to choose between loving Haden or saving my friends and my father?”
“Heavens, you’re as sharp as a marble.” Mara reached across the counter and grabbed my wrists roughly, her talons drawing blood, but her voice was syrupy smooth. “Yes, that is exactly what I am asking you to do. Haden is squandering all his gifts to be a worthless human like you, like his father. I want him back. He is to inherit my kingdom and if you’re very lucky, he won’t decide to take over your realm someday as well.” Her voice became reedy with a venomous edge, no longer even resembling a human woman’s voice. And, oh God, her eyes. They were windows into hell. “I will stamp out every trace of humanity in him. It will be a glorious time for Under—he’s going to be the king of nightmares, Theia. I’ll make sure of it.”
She was the master of illusion, evil incarnate, and I knew in my heart she would never give me what she offered—absolution from what she perceived as an attack. “I don’t trust you, Mara. I’m not making this choice, because it isn’t a choice at all. It’s not real.”
She let go of me and crossed her arms. “I don’t understand what he sees in you. You’re worse than boring . . . you’re milquetoast.”
I blinked and we were no longer in my kitchen. It had been a fake reality after all. The room had one chair and nothing else but stone walls and floor and a door guarded by two of her skeleton henchmen. “Why did you put me through all of that? Why bother with all the drama and the mind games?”
“I had to see if you were ready.” Shrugging, she pointed to the snow globe. “Enjoy the show.”
“What show? Ready for what?”
“It’s going to be very amusing. I can hardly wait.”
Amusing? “You didn’t answer me. Why would you go through the trouble of tricking me or making me think that I could save anyone?”
“I like games. Surely even you have figured that out by now.” She cupped my jaw in her hand, a hand I knew could break my bones like twigs if she so desired. “Your human minds delight me. I enjoy poking into the crevices and unearthing your deepest, darkest fears . . . and desires. They’re all the same to me.” My heart stuttered as she went on. “And I know your deepest fears, my little poppet. You’re afraid you’ll be just like me . . . and that is one nightmare I relish fulfilling for you. You’ll learn to love your work, Theia, just as I love mine. You think my blood is a curse, but you’ll soon realize it’s a blessing. I’m going to get you started with a front-row seat. You think you know your friends, but now you will see what they are really made of. Shake the globe, dear. Donnatella is ready for her close-up.”
She left me alone, taking her henchmen with her, though I suspected they would stay on the other side of the door. I picked up the glass globe from its perch on the chair. It was my only window in the stone cell. I remembered how Haden used to watch the human world from a mirror that served as a portal, how it was his torment and pleasure at the same time. I had no doubts that what I would see in the snow globe that acted as a crystal ball would only add to my anguish, but it was the only link I had. Haden had told me at the bowling alley that the not-knowing was scarier than knowing. I didn’t believe him then and I certainly didn’t now.
I sat in the chair and took a breath to steel my nerves. I shook the globe and peered into the glass and watched all of my friends live out their personal nightmares.
Up Is Still Down
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Donny
I’ve awoken surprised in other people’s beds before. Not a lot, but it has happened. It’s a horrible feeling.
I sat up and looked around, not comprehending anything.
Think, girl.
The last thing I remembered was . . . crap, the cabin. Mike was spewing all sorts of weird stuff about Mara, Amelia had been in some sort of stupor, and then there was a gray fog and a lot of nothing.
So where the hell was I? And where was everyone else?
Okay, start with the obvious. I was on a bed. A nice one too. Big carved pillars of dark wood were posts. I was lying on a velvety duvet in a deep red color, and I could roll over four or five times before I found the other edge of the bed. There were candles lit everywhere—on tables, in sconces—but no electric lights. I looked down at the floor; it was pretty far down there. A really plush fur, hopefully fake, served as a rug. A staircase would have been nice. Why would someone make a bed this high off the ground?
The rest of the room was as opulent as the bedding—lots of velvet- and satin-upholstered furniture by a fireplace. Hundreds of candles did a good job for lighting, but there were some really long shadows. I didn’t care for the shadows. If I was in Under, which I suspected I was, since this room was similar to the one Theia had told me about, then I needed to be very wary of the shaded areas in the room. How did I get here?
I slid off the bed carefully, losing my balance as my feet hit the floor. Something was very wrong. I felt . . . changed, uncoordinated. I looked down and couldn’t see my feet.
Ohmyeffinggod.
My stomach was huge. I cried out. Had I swallowed a beach ball? My shirt rode up over the roundness. I had no belly button—my innie was totally an outie now. I stared at my belly for a long time, too long. I just . . . couldn’t believe it. I didn’t wear the kind of clothes that could accommodate that kind of weight gain.
And then it moved. It felt like a small animal, only I felt it from inside my skin.
Ohmyeffinggod.
There was a baby.
Inside of me.
Oh crap oh crap oh crap. Just how long had I been unconscious?
I was pregnant. The thought paralyzed me. I’m a careful girl. I’ve had sex for the wrong reasons and I’ve made terrible choices, but never, never, never have I had unprotected sex. A baby is the very thing I never wanted. I never wanted to babysit them or hold them. I’d tolerated my little brother, but never actually liked him until he could play without smelling like diaper.
I’d never thought babies were cute and I pretty much believed every teen mom I saw had been hit with the stupid stick for not only getting herself in that position but keeping it besides. I’d been on the pill since I was thirteen, and nobody got near me without a condom and spermicide, which I carried in my purse at all times.
And now one of them lived inside of me?
Had I been in Under for so long that I slept through eight months of gestating? And then, as the thing rolled around like it was doing a somersault, my blood ran cold. What if . . . what if it wasn’t a baby baby? Like not made the normal way, with assistance from Gabe, who so help me was going to pay for this. Unless it was some kind of demon-possession thing.
I was so not cool with birthing demon spawn.
I needed to find my friends. Hopefully, Ame had snapped out of her trance—I needed her advice in a huge way. She would know what to do, I told myself as I padded across the floor. My center of gravity was all off and I felt wobbly. And a little hungry.
I shuddered. What if it wanted me to eat raw meat or something?
I wanted to cry and scream. This was not fair. My body was mine. I didn’t want to share it and I didn’t want to contemplate how I might have been violated. I never thought I’d be in a position to pray that Gabe had knocked me up, but oh, my God, if it wasn’t Gabe . . . The huge wooden door was locked and immovable. That didn’t surprise me. I paced, awkwardly, trying to get used to my new shape and figure out how to get free.
There were no windows in my room, but there was a huge fireplace blazing, flanked by tall bookshelves on either side. I pulled a few books off the shelves, but none of the words made any sense, so I put them back. What had I been hoping for? The Secret Way Out of Your Room? Maybe a copy of What to Expect When You’re Expecting Satan’s Offspring?
Tears tried to force their way out of my eyes, but I held them back. I would not cry. I hat
ed crying. Just because I felt helpless didn’t mean I was. I just needed to find Amelia. She would know what to do.
There was a little statue of a pregnant-looking woman on the shelf. I picked it up, thinking that, if nothing else, I could use it to hit someone in the head if they came in.
As soon as I held it up for further inspection, the bookshelf began to swivel. I jumped back as the shelves disappeared and a skeleton sitting against a stone wall took their place.
I screamed.
It screamed back.
I screamed some more, holding my weapon threateningly. Because I could totally kill something already dead, right?
It wasn’t made completely of bones like the skeleton hanging out in the biology lab. That would have been better. Way less creepy. Instead, it had a beefy, normal body, but a skeleton head. No eyes, no skin, no hair . . . just white bone.
Still, even with no tongue or throat or lips, it was able to scream like I was the abomination. It got up, and I whimpered and backed away. It didn’t come at me, just stared at my belly. I put one hand over the baby protectively.
Seriously? I was protecting it?
Yes, yes, I guess I was. “Don’t come near me!” I shouted. Please wake up, Donny. This is a horrible dream. “Wherever you just came from, go back.”
It shook its head, rattling its jaw, and pointed at my huge middle. “Donny, what the fuck?” the thing asked.
It felt like someone slammed an icicle into my heart. The thing had Gabe’s voice. My Gabe’s voice.
“Where is he?” I screamed, completely losing it. “What have you done with my boyfriend?” Did it eat him?
It tightened its fists the way Gabe sometimes does when he wants to throttle me. And then it ran its normal human hand over its bony head the way Gabe does when he ruffles his hair. “Shit,” he said.
I dropped the statue and stumbled backwards a few steps. I wanted to curl into a ball on the floor but there was no floor. The bottom of my world had fallen out.