by May Dawson
I stared back at him, my lips pressed tightly together. My secrets were one thing. But I was afraid of what I might give up that could hurt someone else. Better to say nothing.
Nimshi waved his hand impatiently. “I was just curious to see if you’d bother to lie. Here we go!”
He made an arc with his arm above his head. The room shifted.
Jacob and I were still sitting, with Nimshi standing in front of us, but we were at the edge of a road. It was night. I stared around, feeling the cool of the breeze on my face, and I looked desperately at Jacob, wondering what would happen if we ran. Jacob gave me the slightest shake of his head, as if he knew what I was thinking.
There was the sound of brakes squealing, tires sliding, dangerously close. I jumped to my feet, faster than I could think, as a Volkswagen Jetta slid across the road towards us. It yawed past us, and I caught a brief glimpse of the terrified faces of two girls. Twin faces, with long dark hair and shiny tiaras, and then the car revolved away from us.
My sister and me. The night that we died.
The car’s tires slid down the deep incline, and it began to roll. The car rolled over twice and came to a stop upside down.
It was already on fire when the girl in the driver’s side threw open the door and stumbled out. There I was, in the deep marigold satin dress I’d worn on prom night. You’re going to have to tan, Ash had teased me when we bought that dress. I’m not getting skin cancer for prom, I had teased back. I never tanned, but Ash loved to; it was the surest way our friends could tell us apart.
The girl in the yellow dress stumbled around. At first I thought it was a concussion, but then I realized she was drunk. She turned back towards the car. “Ash?”
The car burst into flames.
The girl, still confused, wandered off into the woods. I saw her sink to the ground, just like I’d been found, sitting half-hidden in the gloom of the woods.
Nimshi said, “Well, that’s a quick trip to Hell right there. You really do deserve what comes next, don’t you, Ellis?”
“No,” I said. I tried to wrack my brain for any memories of that night, but it felt the same way it always did—like a black wall raised in my mind, something I tripped over, and I fell hard. “I don’t think that’s right. I wouldn’t have gotten drunk and then drove home.”
He raised his hand from left to right in the arc again.
I saw myself and Ash heading to the car in our school parking lot. It was dark outside, which was unusual. I was never on school property voluntarily after 3pm. We were wearing those same blue and yellow satin dresses. Ash bumped into me, trying to pull the purse off my shoulder. “Come on, give me the keys,” she said.
“You never let me drive,” the other-me protested.
“You never get to drive because you’re always late!”
“I’m not late now.”
Nimshi turned to me. His gaze was knowing.
“I didn’t do that,” I said.
“You really can argue that didn’t happen?” he asked.
“It’s not true.” But my heart wasn’t in it; I didn’t know what was true and what wasn’t. I thought of my mom standing at the foot of my hospital bed when I woke up, of the rage and fear intermingled in her eyes, of the way I had thought then that she hated me.
“Oh come on,” Jacob said. “I don’t like her much, but I can see her more clearly than that, Prince of Lies. She didn’t kill her sister.”
“You’re thinking of my uncle,” Nimshi said. “Lucifer, prince of lies. But thanks for the promotion.”
Jacob stared at him, and I had to give it to Jacob. Even at the scene of his nightmares, he looked cool. His elbows were braced on his knees, his broad shoulders held high, and his gaze was skeptical. He looked pretty damn relaxed for a man who was shackled to a wall.
Nimshi went on talking, even though he was the one who was supposed to have all the power in the room. “My father’s actually the prince of truth. He makes people know they belong in Hell. No playing the victim for folks like you.”
“Are all the demons male?” I asked. “Figures.”
“Hell’s tough on feminists,” Nimshi told me. “Well, you’ll see. You want to see the real truth, sweetheart?”
Jacob ducked his head slightly, shaking his head. He might be afraid to say something that would draw Nimshi’s ire directly and move us into the next phase of torture, but he wanted me to know: I shouldn’t believe this.
I repeated that thought like a mantra, even though it seemed impossible not to believe what I saw play in front of me.
Nimshi raised his hand and changed the world again. But it was just a flicker back to the start; I saw myself and Ashley walking again across the parking lot.
“Ellis, wait,” Ash said. She ran after me, unsteady in her high heels.
“You are such a jerk,” I exploded, turning on her. “You know I like Andrew. Why are you always flirting with him?”
“We’re twins, Ellis,” she said. “It doesn’t really matter which one of us flirts with him.”
But I wasn’t having any of her excuses. I turned and rushed on towards the car.
“Wait!” Ash called again after me. She stepped out of her heels so she could run, gathering them up in one hand to run after the car.
Even though the accident had already happened, and nothing would change the outcome, I hoped that I would manage to get into the car and hit the locks before my sister could get in with me. If I could have just died that night and left my sister alive in the world, I would accept that. No matter where I went after I died.
But Ash slipped into the passenger side just as my driver’s side door slammed shut. The car peeled out of the well-lit parking lot and disappeared down a dark road.
“Do you want to see what comes next?” Nimshi said. “The big fight, the way you lost control car of the car?”
Nimshi hadn’t shown us any scenario that involved the supernatural. Maybe he didn’t know what I was. Maybe he couldn’t see what I’d really done.
I was afraid I’d set the car on fire in my panic during the accident. Parrish and her people had begun to torture Ryker and Levi because they intended to stress-test us. Because dormant powers often emerge under stress. Maybe mine had. Maybe I’d killed my sister as my powers were born.
“Not particularly,” I said flippantly. “I heard this movie got panned.”
But Nimshi, of course, showed us anyway.
19
Nimshi left us without saying a word. I heard the door close and looked up, the room a blur through my tears.
Jacob shifted towards me, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. He didn’t tell me it was going to be okay. He didn’t say anything.
I leaned into him, resting my head on his shoulder.
“Where do you think he went?” I whispered. I didn’t want to hear my voice break. I’d watched my sister die in the fire that had overtaken our car. I’d watched it eight times. I didn’t have any fight left in me.
“Just be glad he’s gone.” Jacob rested his jaw on the top of my head, holding me close; I was enveloped by his warmth. “Rest while you can.”
“He hasn’t even done anything to us yet,” I said. “Just…memories. Maybe.”
“Maybe lies,” he said.
But I’d watched everything play out so many times that it seemed hard to convince myself it hadn’t really happened now. I would remember watching my sister die in the flames. I squeezed my eye shut tight, but it didn’t change what I saw: her hand desperately slapping the window, her face twisted in agony.
“Listen,” Jacob said. “Hold onto the things you know. If your sister had died in that fire, her body would have been burned too badly to resuscitate. Mr. Joseph was lying. Or Nimshi is now. Those are facts.”
Cold facts were cold comfort. But I nodded, wanting to believe him.
“The thing about what demons do,” he told me, his voice still low and cool, confident as if he knew we would stroll out of here and so he cou
ld go into his usual professor mode, “is that they convince people to go into Hell. They convince them that Hell is what they deserve—to suffer for their sins, to be alone and tortured forever. They burn away the best parts of a person, until all that’s left of what used to be a complicated human is their anger and their cowardice and their selfishness. But if you can hold on to something that’s good about yourself, they can’t take that from you. They can’t take you to Hell.”
“Is that how you survived?” I whispered.
He shook his head. “My mother rescued me, remember?”
“But it took… time.”
“I was just a kid,” he said. “Kids are stupid.”
“They’re innocent.”
“Same difference. Kids can’t tell when someone’s lying to them. That’s why they go with the stranger, and that’s why they stay with the people who steal them. The ones who tell them your parents said I could take you, they don’t want you back, they don’t love you anymore. Those are demon lies.”
“Okay,” I said. “But they didn’t burn away the best parts of you. You must have held on.”
His lips arched up slightly. “You of all people should know what they left behind.”
Ouch. I shook my head, trying to lighten the mood. “I’m sorry that I called you a jerk-face. Seventeen times.”
“I’m sorry too,” Jacob said.
I bit down on my lower lip. Then I gave in to what I wanted to ask. “Sorry for what?”
“You need specifics? We’re locked in a demon case and we’re probably gonna die and you want me to grovel with specifics?”
“It would make me feel better.”
“You’re bloody impossible, Princess,” he said. “Fine. I’m sorry that I smacked your ass in the dojo, but Levi’s right, that is my kink and I’m probably going to do it again. So I’m not that sorry. Um. I’m sorry that I said I hated you. And that I asked to be freed from our little harem deal because that, of course, led to what is probably our doom. I guess destiny is pretty serious.”
“This is not the apology I was looking for,” I told him. “I was thinking of something more apologetic.”
“Okay, okay,” he said. “I did say that I was sorry for saying I hate you.”
“You could also say you’re sorry for telling me that you loved me in the weirdest way possible.”
“I thought Ryker and Levi with the rings was the weirdest thing.”
“No, telling you that you loved me while you looked like you might slap me was definitely the worst.”
Jacob recoiled slightly. “I would never hit you.”
“Except for smacking me on the ass?”
“That’s different.”
“It is literally the same thing,” I said. “Hitting is hitting.”
“If you really feel that way, I’ll refrain. But I think you should give it a go. It could be fun.”
“Are you seriously trying to convince me to get all Fifty Shades of Gray while we’re locked up in a demon case?”
“Well, not here, obviously. We’re probably being watched.” His eyes studied the room. “But maybe not. It looks like they didn’t want to leave anything for us to work with. We can’t reach the light. I don’t see any cameras unless they have a pinhole one in a corner that’s so high up, I can’t see it. And I don’t think it’s likely.”
“That’s it? We’re done?”
“Do you need more from me?” His lips curved up slightly, pushing his high cheekbones even higher, in a way that made me smile back slightly. His smile made me feel lighter, surer, no matter where we were.
“I’ll apologize for anything you want me to, Ellis, but here’s the thing. You and I have each other. And if we hang on to the good parts of each other and keep convincing each other that we’re not all bad—well. Nimshi can fuck right off back to Hell without meeting his quarterly sales goals.”
“Pretty hard for two people who don’t like each other much,” I said lightly.
“Good thing we’ve got that curse going for us.” He tucked my hair back behind my ear, the gesture quick.
“Good thing,” I agreed.
The door swung open, and Nimshi swaggered in. Before he closed the door behind him, I craned my neck, trying to see the hall beyond. I didn’t know how long we had slept, and so I had no way of gauging how time had passed. Was it morning or afternoon or night? Not knowing was agonizing for me. And yet I didn’t dare ask Nimshi, knowing any weakness I betrayed might be used against us.
He carried a chair, which he set in one corner of the room. I thought of how he’d reference men outside, but he was the only one we saw. The only demon in a human’s body? They were supposed to be relatively rare. He might have humans working for him, but I was willing to bet he was the only demon we had to kill to get out of here.
But that only mattered if we could slip our bonds and make it past the door.
“All right, sweetie, break time for you,” Nimshi said to me. “I mean. Not a bathroom break or a water break or a food break. But close enough!”
Jacob watched him, his face betraying nothing. It was hard to believe he was the same man who had just been so kind to me a second before. His eyes were full of cold hate, even though his face was impassive.
“I thought we would take a walk down memory lane,” Nimshi said. “The last time you were in a demon’s case!”
Jacob watched him without responding.
“You’re not excited.” Nimshi waggled jazz-hands. “I’ll be excited for both of us.”
I didn’t know what to make of Nimshi. So far, our demon torturer seemed to be a giant dork.
“Here we go,” he said cheerfully, waving his hand in an arc above his head.
The room flickered, and we were in a demon case almost exactly like this one. The door opened, and I turned my head, looking for that glimpse behind the door, expecting to see one of Nimshi’s men.
But a tall, thin eight-year-old boy with a mop of dark brown curls stumbled into the room, pushed by someone unseen by the door. He tripped, but caught himself and turned to face the door. His golden-brown eyes were full of fury and his chin was set with stubborn determination. He crossed his arms over his chest. Young Jacob’s mannerisms so perfectly mimicked the grown Jacob’s that it would have made me smile, seeing the boy that this man had been, if it weren’t for what was going to come next.
The boy walked around the room, his eyes carefully studying every part of the wall; he knelt to run his fingers along the baseboards and craned his head, looking for cameras.
Then he went to one corner of the room, his back to the door as if to block the view of any guards. He took his wrist between his teeth, wincing slightly.
Jacob—my Jacob—glanced away. “You might not want to see this part.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Nimshi said. “I always love watching this. You did so much of our work for us.”
The boy bit down savagely on his wrist. He worked his lower jaw back and forth, pressing just his lower teeth hard into the vein. My Jacob tried to avert his eyes, but he couldn’t seem to look away. I was helpless to stop watching; I couldn’t understand what he was doing.
The boy sat back on his heels. Red blood trickled down his arm now. His face was twisted with pain and tears as he ran his finger through his blood and drew a circle on the slick stone. But his blood seemed to bead and separate, unwilling to form a circle. He tried to draw the symbols on the floor, his bare knees covered in his slick blood as the blood ran across the tile. His movements became quicker, more desperate, as if he just had to form the circle and the symbols fast enough and this time it would work.
But in the end, he slumped over, unconscious, in a pool of blood that wouldn’t form a symbol for him. When he was still, the door opened and two men came in. They shook a tarp out on the ground. One took his slender wrists and the other his feet, and they lifted him out of the pool of blood. They carried his little body out, a lump in the bottom of the tarp like a hammock, and carried hi
m out of the room. Another man came in, pushing a bucket, and mopped up the blood until the water ran pink from the dirty gray mop head.
Jacob said, “Oh, the innocent days of childhood. I love when people wax nostalgic about how it was better to be a kid. No worries, no troubles.”
“I’m going to fast forward past the part where they patched you up and mopped you off, and then dropped you back off in the case before you woke up.” Nimshi said.
“They had an infirmary I woke up in a few times,” Jacob told me. “One of the humans they’d recruited to help torture kids was a nurse. It was a nice touch.”
“This time around, try not to bathe in your own blood,” Nimshi said. “I’ll have to go pick up a nurse tonight. They’ll have to patch you up here, though. It’ll be nice—I’m sure you’ll enjoy watching each other be resuscitated.”
I bit down on my lower lip. I’d tried to look away from the bloody scene that had unfolded in front of me, but it seemed like wherever I refocused, the scene still played out in front of my eyes. Some kind of magic, forcing me to watch.
“Actually, let’s fast-forward towards the end,” Nimshi said. “Such a brave kid, huh? It’s fun to watch how the fight starts to go out of him.”
Nimshi raised his hand. The scene shifted to young Jacob, shackled to a chair. His head hung down as if he had nodded off. The armpits and front of his t-shirt were soaked with sweat, no matter how cold the demon case was.
Two men walked in, still talking. “You could see he’d really thought it through. He got himself out of the bindings in the infirmary, waited for the nurse to come in so the door would be unlocked, managed to get the door propped open when she came in and then stabbed her. He made a good run for it. Almost hit the last set of doors before we took him down.”
The thought of little Jacob being so close to freedom and then being caught made my chest squeeze. Jacob shook his head slightly, as if he were embarrassed by the reminder of having tried and failed.
“Let’s make sure he doesn’t run again.” The demon said, rolling up his sleeves. He knelt, drawing Jacob’s foot into his lap. He reached into his pocket and took out a Bic, flipping it open, and a bright flame appeared. “Wakey wakey, son.”