The Devil's Heir

by Leilani Lopez

  She looks up to say something to me but stops and focuses on something over my shoulder. She snaps, “Put that down,” and runs off without me.

  I set off on my original mission to find Daisy. No one gives me a second glance when I weave through the crowd, moving from room to room. I pause in front of a couple wrapped up in each other and on closer inspection, I realize it’s Becca and Freddie. Someone shouts, “Get a room!”

  They don’t move from that spot, so I think it’s safe to say Lily won’t have to murder them for having their way with each other in one of the bedrooms. I see a familiar blonde head across the room and I know it’s Daisy. Someone bumps into me and I turn to see who it was. Then I tense at the sight of a couple in the corner.

  Sasha Warren is wearing a shirt exposing her midriff and her hair is pulled back in a messy ponytail. Luke isn’t looking directly at her, but I know he’s listening because he nods and she laughs. Her manicured hand slaps his arm and he takes a step further farther away from her.

  The only piece of appreciation I can give to the girl is her persistence. No matter how many times he steps away from her, or reveals her family’s secrets with no care, she keeps going back to him.

  And I remind myself that it makes him an idiot for allowing her to corner him once more.

  I have a vision of stabbing her. Taking a knife and shoving it straight into her heart, being so close to her I can feel her take her last breath. I can see it happening in my head like it plays out in my dreams. I know how to do it; at this point I’m well versed in murder.

  I step back, fearing my anger will materialize.

  It’s not worth it, I chant. He’s not worth it.

  Luke’s gaze glides over the room until it meets mine. My breath hitches and I make no move to look away.

  Neither does he.

  “That’s disgusting.”

  Lily’s hands are on her hips and she’s glaring at her brother. She looks up to me with a serious face. “Want me to break it up?”

  I turn to leave and over to Daisy.

  “Where’s the beer?” I ask before I’m even sure I mean it.

  Daisy points over her shoulder. “Outside, there’s a cooler.”

  I ignore her calling my name and beeline to the backdoor. There are a few people standing around with beer bottles in their hands, chatting with each other. I find the cooler and snatch one of the glass bottles out. My hands slip as I try to twist off the lid and curse when I can’t.

  “Here, give it.”

  There’s no turning back. I want his image out of my head and I want it out now.

  A hand reaches out and takes it from me, popping the lid off with a lighter before passing it back. I thank him and bring the cold bottle to my lips. I squeeze my eyes at the unfamiliar taste and don’t stop until the liquid is gone. The glass shatters when I throw the now empty bottle away and the unfamiliar face snickers when I shove another at him. He winks at me upon handing me my second beer and I ignore it, going back into the house.

  On second thought, I grab another beer just in case.

  Freddie and Becca are the first people I see inside. Becca points at the beer and screams, “Finally!”

  Freddie gives me an appreciative nod. “Double fisting, I like your style.”

  I take a long swig for emphasis. It’s gross and burns my stomach, but if this is what it takes to forget about the scene I keep playing in my head, I’ll do it. I’ll do anything to stop the horrors on constant replay.

  Somehow Daisy finds us and places her hands on my shoulders. “Where’d you run off to?”

  I hold up my hands as my way of answering her. “Damn, girl. Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

  I down half of the bottle and shrug. “Who cares.”

  “Have you ever drunk before?”

  I shake my head and Freddie chimes in. “It’s just beer. What could possibly happen?”

  Turns out, Freddie gave me too much credit.

  I lost count after the first two bottles. That was a long time ago.

  Apparently, it’s unacceptable to sit on the edge of the bathtub and stare out into space while there’s a line of people waiting to use the restroom. So, after the insistent banging on the door, I decided to leave. I received many glares on my way out.

  This is my first party, sue me.

  And that’s how I find myself sitting under the gazebo hidden deeper into the backyard. If you can even call it a backyard. It’s more like miles of forest.

  I’m glad it’s dark so I don’t have to see stupid Sasha anywhere. Or her stupid manicure. Or her stupid stomach showing. Stupid cleavage and her shoving it toward Luke.

  Stupid Luke.

  Stupid idea from Lily. Why would I want to be stupid Luke’s girlfriend?

  This whole town is stupid.

  “Tell us how you really feel.”

  I fall back on the swing I’m sitting on but catch myself on the chains. Tyler hides his smirk by taking a drink from his red cup.

  “About what?”

  “You were talking to yourself.”

  “I was?” I hiccup. “That’s embarrassing.”

  He leans against the gazebo rails and watches me with an amused expression.

  “Are you really not happy here?”

  My eyes lower involuntarily and I snap my head back to stay awake. “I said that?”

  He shrugs. “I couldn’t really tell what you were saying. Just mumbling.”

  My head feels like a bowling ball and I look at my swinging feet.

  “What are you doing out here, Calla?”

  “Hmm,” I hum, “getting air.”

  He laughs. “This is pretty far out just for some air.”

  I look up. “How’d you find me?”

  “I followed the singing.”

  I think I laugh, but it comes out as a snort. “I can’t sing.”

  “Oh, I know.”

  The laugh dies in my throat when I see two floating red eyes coming from behind Tyler. They’re low to the ground, but I can see them through the white planks of the gazebo. My spine stiffens and my feet catch on the wooden floor, causing the swing to come to a halting stop. “Do you see that?”

  Tyler looks over his shoulder. “What? What are you looking at?”

  I blink and hope the red eyes will go away, but they don’t. My hands are heavy but I do my best to point over his shoulder. “Those red eyes? Right there.”

  He follows my finger. “Calla, I don’t see anything.”

  “How much did I drink?” I rub my eyes with the back of my hands.

  He laughs and grabs the empty bottle I didn’t realize I was holding. “I’d say a lot. You’re doing pretty good though.”

  “I’m tired,” I say around a large yawn.

  Tyler sets the beer to the side. “Yeah, okay, let’s go.”

  He helps me out of the swing and I sway once my feet are on the ground. “Whoa,” I murmur.

  “I’ll take it from here.”

  I look up and am not surprised to find Luke standing at the end of the steps.

  I groan loud and obnoxiously, letting out all of my frustrations from the week. “Why can’t you just leave me alone?”

  I don’t mean to say it out loud, but it’s too late to take it back.

  Luke raises a brow and steps forward to grab my elbow. “I said I’ll handle it from here.”

  I cling to Tyler’s arm around my waist. “I don’t want you to be here. Go away.”

  Luke’s eyes flash and he takes another step toward me. “Come on.”

  “I said go away…I hate you.” My grip tightens on whatever it is I’m holding onto to stop my hands from trembling.

  Luke pulls his lips over his teeth in a grimace. “No, you don’t.”

  It’s like the floodgate opens and I can’t stop myself. “I hate you. I hate your stupid face and your stupid voice and your stupid stupidness.”

  “Just let me take her…” Tyler says, but no one listens to him.

&nb
sp; My bottom lip begins to quiver and I bite my tongue so hard to keep quiet that it bleeds, but I can’t stop. “I hate that you’re mean to me. And I didn’t do anything to you. Nothing! I didn’t do nothin’ to you but you’re so…you’re just so mean to me.”

  Luke doesn’t respond to the accusation.

  Tyler has to haul me up when I lean too far forward trying to slap Luke’s hand away. “Go find Sasha.” I hope my tone is as venomous to him as his is to me.

  “Who?” he asks sincerely.

  “Sasha,” I say. “With the stupid stomach. And her stupid hand touching your…your…stupid. You’re stupid.”

  Tyler snorts and he tries to step to the side with me. “I can handle it, man.”

  “No,” Luke says. “Let’s go, Calla.”

  My eyes are hazy but I can still focus on him. “I told you I don’t want you here.”

  Luke grips my wrist and pulls me out of Tyler’s arms.

  “I said stop it,” he snaps.

  His voice vibrates through me, and I hesitate to pull away. I want to fight back but the feel of his warm arms around my cold back stops me. I lean into his embrace, craving his warmth. “Okay. Bye, Tyler.”

  Luke leads me back toward the house. Tyler calls out my name, and I try to wave goodbye, but it’s more like a limp wrist wave. With nowhere else to go, his footsteps follow behind us anyways.

  I groan at the bumping music, and Luke snaps out his sister’s name. Somehow, the small redhead finds us in the middle of the crowded living room.

  “Whoa”—she laughs—“Calla, what happened to you?”

  “Hi, Lily,” I mutter.

  “Hi, honey,” she says and then turns her gaze to her brother. “Take her to my room.”

  I follow in Luke’s footsteps as he weaves us through the crowd. On the other side of the room, I see Sasha giving us a look of disgust. I try to match her expression but am not sure how well it works out. People move to the side without being asked as if they feel Luke’s presence. No one dares to even give us a look.

  When we walk further into the house, it finally gets quiet enough to hear myself think. Flashes of my grandmother and the dead boy come to mind and before I know it, I decide I can’t take the burden alone.

  “Can I tell you a secret?” I whisper loudly, leaning my head against Luke’s shoulder as he supports my weight against him.

  “What?” he replies.

  “I think I killed my grandmother.” I let out a long sigh.

  Luke’s body tenses. “What do you mean?”

  I hiccup and groan. “Never mind.”

  We’re in Lily’s room now, and he helps me inside. I stumble over my own feet and get stuck in the curtains of Lily’s canopy bed. Luke helps me fight the itchy fabric until I’m free of it. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I slump forward and support my heavy head on my knuckles.

  Luke squats down in front of me until we’re almost eye to eye. “Why would you think you killed someone?”

  My head is dizzy when I look up into his dark gaze. I think I’m reaching out to touch his face but really my whole body is just falling forward. Luke pushes my shoulders back until I’m firmly seated again. I smile at him because he saved me.

  My vision gets hazy and Luke is now looking up at me smiling. His hair grows longer, the tips touch his shoulders. His jacket is thick, with a high collar, and a white handkerchief is tied around his neck. He’s never looked at me like this before—adoringly.

  “Calla?” he whispers in a cracked voice.

  I blink and he’s back to normal. Serious and unsmiling. His hair is well kept and modern.

  “Hmm?” His voice is smooth and rich, like a cupcake. Oooh, a cupcake. I think I’m hungry.

  He takes time before he touches my knee, and I can’t tell if it’s his hand shaking or if it’s my whole body. “What makes you think you hurt anyone?”

  I don’t want to tell him. He doesn’t need to know what I’ve done. So I decide to deflect the question by reaching out and pushing a finger on his lips. “Shh. I see what you’re doing. You a bad, bad boy, Luke Hale. Trying to make me tell my secrets. I’m a smart girl. A smart girl who doesn’t like boys. No sirree, no boys here. Grandmother says boys are bad. Grandmother says...Grandmother says...Luke?”

  “Yes?”

  “Grandmother’s dead.”

  Luke pauses and I’m more curious than ashamed, so I meet his gaze.

  “I know she is, Calla.”

  “I didn’t want to hurt her.”

  “I don’t think you did.”

  That means a lot coming from the Devil. “Can I tell you another secret?”

  “Of course,” he says.

  “That boy who died?”

  “Yes?” he asks curiously.

  “I knew him.”

  “Oh,” Luke says, “I’m sorry.”

  “No.” I shake my head. “I didn’t really know him. But he came up to me once and started asking me weird questions about my grandmother.”

  Luke’s hand on my knee tightens. “How would he know about your grandmother?”

  I shrug dramatically. “Idunno. He was asking about her death and...and...started speaking in a language I didn’t know.”

  “What did it sound like?”

  “Idunno. Something the Sisters say.”

  Luke’s whole body stiffens before he rises to his feet. “You’re tired, aren’t you?”

  Yes. He is right. I am pretty tired.

  “Why don’t you sleep? I’ll bring Lily.”

  “Luke?”

  “Yes?”

  “Did I do that to him?”

  He hesitates, but answers, “No.”

  I want to believe him. Instead, I let my body fall back onto Lily’s bed and close my eyes in time to hear the door open.

  “Calla?” Luke says, though I could be dreaming at this point.

  I answer him with a hum.

  “She’s not my type,” he says and closes the door behind him.

  “She’s not his type.” I laugh. “She’s not his type.”

  I snuggle deeper into Lily’s soft bed, and I think there’s a smile on my face but I can’t feel my lips move.

  The Hales’ butler is a miracle worker. Sometime during the middle of the night, he showed back up and cleaned the entire house. While Lily slept, Alcott brought me an aspirin and a large cup of water. He drove me home in silence.

  I cover my eyes when I step into direct sunlight. “Thank you,” I manage to mumble.

  The window rolls down when I close the door behind me. “I hope you’ll be back soon, Miss.”

  It’s the hope and desperation in his voice that stops me. “I appreciate the offer.”

  He smiles gently and continues down the street, presumably back home to take care of Lily, who was still sprawled in her bed when I left.

  Much to my surprise, Aunt Polly is sitting on the lonely couch in the living room when I step into the apartment. Her bowl of cereal tilts in her lap as she leans back to look me up and down. “Well, look what the cat dragged in.”

  My cheeks redden at the accusation. “Sorry, Aunt Polly.”

  She waves a dismissive hand through the air. “What for? You didn’t do anything bad, did you?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  She laughs. “Atta girl. Can’t even remember the night.”

  “I may have had too much to drink.”

  “First time drinking?”

  I give her a curt nod.

  “Well, lessons learned are better than no lessons at all, I always say.”

  The slight thumping in my temples would have me disagree.

  “Sit.” She pats the empty spot next to her. “Tell me all about it.”

  My feet grow heavier as I make my way through the small apartment. Aunt Polly follows my gaze to her bowl and before I can take a seat, she stands.

  “You know what,” she says, “you’re probably hungry. Why don’t you take a hot shower and freshen up a bit, yeah? You can come wi
th me to the grocery store.”

  I was hoping she’d offer a home cooked breakfast.

  Not a trip downtown.

  But I oblige her.

  I drag myself down the hall and into the bathroom, not bothering to get clothes first, and quickly strip off the alcohol stained clothes. The toxic vinegar smell is now something I’d like to never relive.

  I sit on the toilet while the water heats up. It isn’t until the bathroom mirror begins to fog that I haul myself off the seat and into the shower.

  When I’m under the hot water, I feel as though I can finally breathe.

  Did I really tell the Devil I’m a murderer?

  I lean my forehead against the cold shower wall.

  Unbelievable.

  I keep digging myself into a deeper hole and have no one to blame but myself.

  I hope the steam washes away the rest of the night.

  When we get to the car, the rumble of the old engine makes my stomach bubble.

  Aunt Polly laughs at my weary expression and passes me a water bottle from the back seat. It’s warm but I still take a small sip.

  The grocery store’s parking lot is full.

  We park at the back.

  I decide to push the shopping cart to keep steady.

  A few feet into the walk, I regret coming on this trip. The shaking wheels of the cart over the cracked concrete play out like a symphony in my ears. My eye twitches until we’re on the safety of the smooth, laminate store floor.

  “So, I got a call about some town meeting happening.”

  “For what?”

  She shrugs and leads us to the vegetable section. “The sheriff had his team call all of the residents to tell them about a mandatory town meeting they’re having this week. Something about the murdered boy.”

  “Why?”

  I rub my forehead.

  “Don’t know. Apparently, the whole town is freaked out about the whole thing.”

  “Can you blame them?”

  “Just remember,” she says, “good things only happen to good people.”

  I watch as she picks up tomatoes and squeezes them, dropping the ones she doesn’t want and putting the others in a plastic bag.

  “I thought it was bad things only happen to bad people,” I say.

  “Do you think you’re a bad person?”

  I frown. “Sorry?”