Serpent's Storm

by Amber Benson

  The light on the porch flipped on and a voice I didn’t know said:

  “Stop that!”

  Instantly I could move again. My instinct for self-preservation kicked in and I yanked my hand away from the rail, but with a little too much force, causing me to lose my balance and fall backward into the dirt, my tailbone taking most of the impact.

  “Ow!” I screeched as I hit the ground hard, my teeth rattling together like maracas.

  “Are you all right?” Hyacinth said, thudding down the stairs to help me, concern flooding her face and making her normally pale skin pink with worry.

  “She’ll be fine,” someone drawled above me. I looked up to find a guy with pale blond hair and muttonchops staring down at me. From my vantage point on the ground, the man appeared to be upside down, his pale orange sweater bleeding away into darkness. This gave his brown eyes and yellow eyebrows an alien appearance, while the light pouring from the porch cast a deep shadow across his face, making his already prominent nose seem even larger.

  “So glad you’re psychic,” I said as I probed my backside to see if anything was busted—thankfully, nothing was—and glared at the man. “Maybe you can tell me how this whole Death thing is gonna work out for me, too. I’d love to hear your opinion.”

  The man grinned down at me.

  “You’re a real spitfire, ain’t ya.”

  I rolled my eyes but took the hand he extended, crawling to my feet while trying not to look like a total spaz. The guy seemed nice—if kind of studious in his burnt orange wool sweater and charcoal pants. Very J. Crew, which was a total departure from what I normally was attracted to, but it kind of worked with the muttonchops.

  “The house is warded against enemies,” the man said to Hyacinth, who nodded as if that made perfect sense.

  “Why is the house warded against enemies?” I asked, confused.

  “Wouldn’t want a little lady like you catching me unawares,” he said, winking as he offered me his hand to shake. “And by the way, I’m Frank.”

  “Callie,” I replied, letting him take my hand. At his touch, my heart started racing and I found it hard to breathe. Of course, I attributed all of this to the very firm grip that almost crushed my fingers.

  “I already knew that.” He winked, and God help me, I blushed. He had a real Southern charm I found hard to ignore. I discovered I didn’t even mind the muttonchops that much—as Lynyrd Skynyrd as they were—which again was totally out of character for me. I was usually hard-core anti- facial hair on my men.

  “Why don’t we take this inside,” Hyacinth said, interrupting the meet-and-greet and forcing Frank to drop my hand. “I think it would be safer.”

  My new friend nodded in agreement.

  “Good idea.”

  He clapped his hands together and the sound was like flint sparking against steel. In response, the lights on the porch began to flicker, taking on a bluish tinge that turned Frank’s pale skin ashen.

  “That’s that,” he said, offering me his arm.

  As nice as Frank was, I didn’t feel comfortable letting him touch me. I was an emotional wreck and I didn’t want to encourage him or in any way make him think he had a chance with me.

  “I’m okay,” I said, trying to be gracious. “But thanks.”

  I had to admit I was attracted to the guy, but I knew it was just my body responding on a purely physical level. Emotionally, I hadn’t even dealt with Daniel and the feelings of hurt and betrayal I was holding at bay, so there was no way I was gonna even go there with Frank. I wasn’t a glutton for punishment. I knew flirting with some poor guy because the man I’d thought I might be in love with had sold me down the river wasn’t gonna make me feel any better.

  “Well, you can’t say chivalry’s dead.” Frank grinned, gesturing for me to go ahead of him.

  “You are chivalry personified,” I said, ignoring the handrail as I trooped up the stairs after Hyacinth’s retreating back.

  “I should put that on my tombstone,” Frank said from behind me.

  I took the stairs slowly. After the partial electrocution I’d undergone, I wasn’t taking any chances. I kept my hands at my sides and made sure each stair would hold my weight before I stepped fully on it.

  “Is this your house?” I asked Frank as I neared the landing.

  “Nah, I’ve just been squattin’ here for a little while,” he replied. “I saw which way the wind was blowin’ and decided to get out while the gettin’ was good.”

  We were on the porch now and I stopped, facing him.

  “What does that mean?”

  Frank cocked his head, thoughtful.

  “You don’t know what’s going on out there?”

  I shook my head. “The Devil and my sister want to take over Heaven. That’s all I know.”

  Frank laughed, then leaned against the porch railing with a casual fluidness. He crossed one leg over the other and I saw, for the first time, that he was wearing cowboy boots.

  “Nice boots,” I added without even thinking.

  “They’re old friends,” he said, his smile so wide I couldn’t help smiling back. “Anyway, you asked what was what.”

  “I did.” I turned around, checking to see if either Hyacinth or Sumi were watching us. Except for the fog and the whistling of the wind as it blew in from the open sea, we were alone on the porch.

  “You’re prettier than I expected,” Frank said abruptly and I blushed again.

  “Look,” I said, twisting my hands together nervously. “I think you’re very nice and under different circumstances I’m sure I would enjoy all the vibes you’re throwing in my direction—”

  “But your man threw you over for another filly and now you’re hurtin’.”

  The saliva dried up in my mouth. The guy had just turned my life into a bad country song, making me feel embarrassed and exposed at the same time.

  “How did you know about that?” I said, looking around for Hyacinth. She was the only one who knew what I’d seen and she’d gone and opened her goddamned mouth—

  “Hyacinth might’ve let a little something slip,” Frank said, covering my hand with his own. I yanked it away, his touch like fire against my frozen skin. “She says he sold you out.”

  “He didn’t sell me out,” I almost yelled at Frank, hating that he—and everyone else in the Afterlife apparently—knew my personal business. “He may even have his reasons for what he did—”

  “I don’t care what reasons he’s got.” Frank scowled. “You don’t ever treat a lady the way that scumbag treated you.”

  “Thank you, I guess,” I said, hating the pity I saw percolating behind his eyes. “I appreciate that, but I don’t know whether I’m coming or going right now, so . . .”

  I let my words trail off. Frank didn’t seem at all bothered by my rudeness.

  “Let’s get you inside, ’cause I bet you’re starving.”

  I nodded, knowing he couldn’t have said a truer thing if he’d tried.

  the house was as tiny on the inside as it appeared on the outside, the front room doubling as an entrance hall with crackling fireplace and an eat-in kitchen. When I came in, I discovered Sumi and Hyacinth already sitting across from each other at a small square dining table, plates of steaming food in front of them. I took the seat facing the door, not wanting to have my back vulnerable. Plus, someone had been kind enough to drape a woolen blanket over the chair back and I was particularly eager to wrap myself in it and warm up a bit. Frank nodded at my choice and took the seat directly across from me.

  The food looked amazing: mashed potatoes drenched in brown gravy, gently steaming meatloaf, glazed carrots, and a glass of iced tea to round the meal off. I wanted to tuck into the food and put my stomach’s growling to rest, but I found my imagination stirred by the room.

  I wasn’t a gourmet and the best I could manage while in chef mode was frying an egg, so the kitchen behind me didn’t really whet my interest. Instead, I was drawn to the entrance hall and the seafaring
paraphernalia gathered along its wide-planked, whitewashed wooden walls.

  My eye settled first on the blazing fireplace cut into the far wall and its beautiful concrete mantel fashioned from broken shells and bits of brightly colored sea glass. Above it were fishing nets of various shapes and sizes all suspended just below a giant metal trident, the sharpness of its prongs glittering brightly in the firelight. On the opposing wall, high up near the ceiling, hung a wooden mermaid, obviously once upon a time the figurehead of some large seagoing ship, now just a pretty piece of memorabilia casting shadows in the firelight. As I looked at her, taking in her long, flowing blond hair and the sensual curving lines of her figure, I found myself thrilling at how lifelike she appeared. Someone had carved her with love, imbuing her with as much humanity as one could give a statue. Her skin was luminous, a gleaming honey that sparkled in the firelight as if she were covered in a coat of gold-flecked paint. Her pale blue eyes seemed alive, full of mischief and cunning, and her face was nothing short of gorgeous, all cheekbones and pouting pink lips. Her gaze was so compelling I could’ve easily left my place at the table, crossed the room, and stood beneath her, marveling at her beauty for hours on end—hunger pangs be damned.

  “Let it rest, Starr,” Frank said, not even bothering to look up from his plate. “The little gal’s hungry and her dinner’s getting cold.”

  “I was only having a little fun,” a tinkling voice cried. “Why do you always have to be so mean?”

  Startled, I stared at the mermaid as she tilted her head in our direction and pouted prettily at Frank. He ignored her, which only turned her gaze murderous.

  “You stick me up on this wall and then you don’t let me have any fun,” she twittered, her voice shrill. “You stink!”

  Frank continued to ignore her, as did everyone else at the table, so she crossed her arms and turned her head away rudely.

  I wanted to ask who and what the mermaid was, but I restrained my curiosity, not wanting to get caught up in conversation when I should be eating. I pulled my gaze away from the mermaid and focused on my food.

  I found myself inhaling my dinner as if I were in a contest and all the food I hadn’t eaten before the timer went off would be taken away. The meatloaf was delicious, all warm and ketchupy, and the mashed potatoes went down like silk.

  “This is fantastic.” I grinned, my mouth full of carrots. “I haven’t eaten like this in ages.”

  It was true. I hadn’t had a home-cooked meal in I didn’t know how long. I hadn’t realized it until the second week of his stay, but Daniel was a closet junk food freak. I guess there was no delivery down in Hell, so the poor guy had been junk free for years. Of course, that was remedied once he started shacking up with me—and we’d been on a steady diet of pizza and Chinese takeout ever since. I’d depleted a good chunk of my savings in the process, but I really hadn’t minded. In the beginning, it’d been heaven to have him at my house, sleeping in my bed and sharing my life.

  My praise made Frank sheepish.

  “It was nothing,” he said.

  I wasn’t having any of this false modesty crap. He was a fine cook and I wanted him to know it.

  “No, seriously,” I pressed on. “You’re an excellent cook. Really, I can barely make mac and cheese without burning it.”

  “Ha!” Starr harrumphed behind me.

  I turned in my seat to face her, not liking her one bit.

  “Why don’t you take a look at what you’re really eating?” she trilled.

  I looked down at my place setting and saw that, instead of the meatloaf and mashed potatoes I’d thought I was eating, my plate was half filled with gelatinous sardines. I wanted to gag as I stared at the dead-eyed fish, but I fought to keep my stomach in check. I didn’t know when I was going to get another meal, so I needed to keep this one down. I may have been an immortal, but if I didn’t eat, I’d waste away to nothing—and an eternity spent as a wraith of my former self was not a life.

  “That’s gross,” I said, pushing my plate away.

  “Not gross,” Sumi said, his mouth full of the silvery skinned fish. “Yummy, yummy.”

  “It’s what Sumi likes to eat,” Frank said. “I tried to put a glamour on it so it would be more appealing to you—”

  “Appreciate the effort,” I interrupted, raising an eyebrow, “but I’m done.”

  Like Sumi, Hyacinth didn’t seem bothered by the sardine development, so I figured I was the only one who didn’t like the nasty buggers.

  I hate jellied meats of all kinds. I’d spent Passover with my friend, Noh, and her then boyfriend, Haskell, and I’d nearly thrown up when Haskell’s mom had plopped gefilte fish on my plate. Anything jellied and fishy that comes out of a can is a no-go for me.

  “Well, if you’re finished,” Hyacinth said, setting her knife and fork down, “then I think we need to get our game plan in order.”

  “Okay,” I said, feeling nauseous. “I’d love to know the plan—whatever it is.”

  “Are you sure about that, Death?” Starr chimed in from her perch on the wall.

  “I don’t care what your deal is,” I said, turning in my chair again, “but I’d seriously appreciate it if you’d shut up now.”

  Starr opened her mouth in indignation.

  “How dare you!?” she shouted. “How dare you talk to me like that—I’ve crushed boats on the rocks for less!”

  “Wait, you’re a Siren?” I asked, surprised I hadn’t put it together sooner. “Of course, you are! You just said as much.”

  “I said nothing,” Starr growled at me, then shut her mouth.

  “I think my mom is part Siren,” I said to no one in particular.

  Starr took offense at this.

  “Your mom is no more a real Siren than you are, Death,” she bellowed, her high girly voice lowering about three octaves in anger. “You’re nothing but Anglo-Saxon trash on two legs!”

  I snorted, not really able to give her old-school insult much credence. I supposed we were all Anglo-Saxon white trash to a Siren.

  “So, how did you get her on the wall?” I asked Frank, but Sumi raised his hand for silence.

  “The Siren’s fate is neither here nor there,” he said, sucking down the last fish on his plate before reaching for my leftovers. “We have to discuss your battle strategy, Death’s Daughter.”

  “The challenge will come soon,” Hyacinth chimed in. “You’ll be forced to comply, whether you’re ready or not. And you must stop Daniel from winning, whatever the cost.”

  “Okay,” I said, surprised at the larger woman’s vehemence. “What do I have to do? For the challenge, I mean.”

  I’d been on a quest before, looking for the three objects the Board of Death had required me to find in order to save my family’s immortality during my dad’s kidnapping fiasco. I’d been successful then and I knew I was down to find even more magical objects, if that’s what the Board of Death wanted.

  “This is open combat—a duel,” Sumi piped in. “And immortality becomes superfluous—”

  “Hold on a minute,” I interrupted. “What did you say?”

  Hyacinth rested one meaty hand underneath her chin, thoughtful.

  “Sumi is saying,” she explained, “that your immortality is superfluous during the challenge and you will be forced to fight until the death.”

  I’m going to have to fight Daniel to the death? That is bullshit!

  “Look, Daniel may be on my shit list right now,” I said, slamming my hand down on the table. “But that doesn’t mean I want to kill him—”

  “You do not decide how things are run,” Sumi said abruptly, talking over my protests. “You will defeat your challenger . . . or you will die.”

  I shook my head, anger boiling just below the surface.

  “Then I’d rather die.”

  “Don’t be stupid—” Frank began, but Sumi held up a hand as if to say that he would take care of this.

  “You love your mother and sister, yes?”

 
; “Yes,” I nodded.

  “And you love the hellhound you call Runt, yes?”

  I sighed, getting annoyed by the repetition.

  “Yes, of course.”

  Sumi nodded, thoughtful.

  “If what you say is true, then you would want them to continue to exist, correct?” he asked.

  “That’s a given—”

  “Then you must choose,” Sumi said, spearing a sardine from Hyacinth’s plate and slipping it into his mouth. “The life of the Devil’s protégé . . . or the lives of the people you say you love. It is your choice.”

  I didn’t answer—I couldn’t.

  There was nothing I could say because I knew I’d been checkmated by the old man from the sea. I was, for all intents and purposes, well and royally screwed. I pulled the blanket up around my shoulders, trying to fight off the chill that had overtaken my body.

  Somehow, the blanket didn’t help nearly enough.

  fifteen

  I didn’t have time to ponder the catch-22 I’d been railroaded into because a thundering boom from outside shook the house, rattling the dishes and sending the metal trident above the fireplace crashing to the floor. Starr, stuck on the wall like an insect pinned to a specimen board, gave a high-pitched scream, then began begging Frank to release her from her prison.

  “Frank, free me! Please!” she howled as another loud boom shook the walls. “How can I protect myself if I’m stuck on this wall!?”

  Frank shot a warning look in Starr’s direction, then jumped out of his chair, knocking the wooden seat over in his haste. Ignoring the Siren’s pleading cries, he headed for the front door, throwing two heavy iron dead bolts I hadn’t even noticed were there, before turning his attention to the windows.

  “What’s happening?” I asked Sumi as another boom sounded in the distance and our dinner plates crashed to the floor, sending the remains of the jellied sardines scattering.

  “The time is nigh.”

  “We can hold them off for a little while,” Frank shot back, flipping the lock on a window that looked out onto the porch. “The house is warded against magic—”