The Devil's Heir

by Leilani Lopez

  I dropped my backpack at the door and ran into the kitchen, sliding across the glass, the burning in my knees second nature. I took every dish towel and napkin in our kitchen to try to clean up the blood before it could seep into the wood planks, making sure to not touch her.

  When the towels were soaked and the napkins disappeared, I couldn’t believe the life had finally been snuffed out of her already dead eyes. The neighbor had walked by and seen me kneeling over my grandmother’s body through the open front door, and she yelled out that she was calling the police.

  I had crawled over to Grandmother’s favorite chair in the living room and curled under the throw blanket, cold once the blood soaked through my thin tights underneath my pleated skirt. I couldn’t convince myself that it was real. It felt like a nightmare, the cruelest of them all, knowing I’d wake up to my pitiful life.

  With shaky hands, I reach out and take one of the photos: a close up of my grandmother’s face, clear of any blood. Her eyes soulless.

  I know he’s searching for a smile, a light in my eyes, something that’ll indicate my remembering living through the murder over again. What, according to his evaluation of me, should have been the best day of my life.

  A shiver runs up my spine at the same time Officer Valencia growls, the rumble coming from deep in his chest. His eyes close, the first physical reaction I’ve seen him make to anything.

  The door swings open and the Devil’s advocate walks through. Alcott steps into the crowded room, immediately followed by the figure that always seems to be looming around me. Officer Valencia stands to his full height, looking eye to eye with Luke Hale. I wait for words to be exchanged, for Luke to come to my defense, for someone to ask me to explain my innocence…

  For someone to say anything.

  Never have I seen a conversation occur without an actual exchange of words. The scene before me looks ridiculous, as if Officer Valencia would be intimidated by the power the Hales hold, but knowing this isn’t their first meeting reveals more about the officer than the last two hours.

  “Get out,” Luke tells him.

  The officer dips his head a centimeter in acknowledgment and follows the butler out of the room, closing it tightly behind them.

  I ignore the strange occurrence as I wait for Luke to acknowledge me. To tell me why he’s here. What he wants. Only when I’m on the verge of passing out do those dark eyes turn to me.

  “Are you okay?”

  His voice sounds cracked. Or maybe with the ringing in my ears, I misheard him.

  I bite my lip to keep from crying now that the officer is gone. “What are you doing here?”

  He doesn’t answer me, and the room begins to feel smaller. The weight of the situation, my situation, rams into me. I could be locked away for murders I want to believe I didn’t commit. My hand goes to my throat as I struggle to catch a breath. “What are you doing here, Luke?” I wheeze, desperation to stop the burning in my lungs. “What are you doing here? What are you doing here? What are you doing here?”

  Luke takes small steps toward me. I try to breathe in as much air as I can, much like a person coming up underneath the water, the jagged sound echoing between us. I curl inwards and lean away from him, remembering our last conversation. I don’t want him here.

  My eyes dart to his shoulder, the section of flesh I bit into, and then to the photos laid out before me on the table, horrified to think he’s going to see this part of my past.

  His eyes follow my movement and he sees the photos. I wait to see the judgment in them, but he flings the folder and its contents off of the table, sending all of the photos flying as if they’re worthless.

  Luke reaches for the hand still clutching at my neck. He has to fight me to release my own throat and when he does, I’m able to take in a deep breath with ease. My hand feels small in his and immediately begins to sweat from his hot touch. Only when he squeezes my hand do I realize it had been shaking and I finally look up at him.

  His eyes seem to be a dark shade of brown, lighter than usual. He kneels on the floor so we’re at eye level. Clears his throat softly. For a quick moment, he presses his forehead against mine before retreating. “You’re okay, amour.”

  I shudder.

  He says it so quietly, almost a whisper, as if he doesn’t want anyone to have the opportunity to hear his vulnerability. I sniff until my nose is no longer running and wipe my eyes with my free hand, nodding ridiculously long.

  “Okay, I’m okay.”

  Luke takes my cheek in his hand, rubbing a lone tear away. “You’ll always be okay, Calla.”

  I’m afraid to respond to him, not wanting to ruin my chance of receiving his help. I just want to stay in this moment for a second longer. Long enough that I can walk out of the station, for the third time in a matter of months, and know Luke Hale believes in me more than I do myself.

  “Are you ready to leave?” he asks.

  I can only nod, not ready to be strong yet.

  Luke stands to his full height and pulls me up from the cold chair. He doesn’t release my hand when he walks me straight to the door, pushing it open like he has every right to, nor does he drop it when we’re out of the safety cocoon of the interrogation room.

  If I could, I’d love to throw a match into the room to burn up all the photos I wish to never see again. Not because I’m ashamed, like the officer suggested, but because I’m tired of living with torment.

  When we approach the door that separates the lobby from the holding areas, someone buzzes us out and I’m confused at the sheer silence in the building. Alcott stands in the center of the room with his hands behind his back, waiting for us to approach him.

  “I’ll just be finishing your release paperwork, Miss Calla.”

  I don’t know if he had to bribe my freedom or if he has law experience, but neither matter to me. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

  The old man smiles. “My pleasure. When we received the call about your arrest, we came running.”

  I raise my brow. “A call?”

  He looks embarrassed, as if he told a secret he shouldn’t have. “Your friend, Miss Daisy, called many times until someone answered. Apparently, she tried for your aunt but couldn’t get through to her, so she thought we’d be the next best step.”

  I’ll have to thank Daisy. “Well, thank you again. Honestly.”

  “It’s nothing,” he tells me. “And I can assure you you’ll have no more problems.”

  “And what about Officer Valencia? How are you going to convince him I’m innocent?”

  Alcott sneers at the man’s name. “Officer Valencia will be dealt with accordingly.”

  He could have said murdered and I wouldn’t even blink.

  Luke clears his throat. “I’ll be taking Calla home now. Alcott, you’ll deal with this?”

  The butler smiles, and it’s almost as sinister as the Hales’. “It’ll be my pleasure, sir.”

  Luke leads me out of the building and to the lone black sedan in the parking lot. The car beeps when he opens the door and ushers me inside, taking the time to reach over and make sure my seatbelt is fastened tightly. When the door shuts behind him, during the few seconds I’m alone, I slam my hands against the dash. Over and over again, screaming in frustration until the driver’s side door opens. I pull my hands in my lap as Luke slides into the seat. He leans over to stroke my knuckles.

  We sit in silence as he drives back toward my apartment, the night a deep navy blue, hours after we were originally pulled over. The car drives past the road up to the manor, out to the edge of town, and into one of the empty resident parking slots. Aunt Polly’s car is nowhere in sight, and I try to gather the strength to delete the voicemails that are probably on the landline without listening to them.

  Luke cuts the engine and turns the headlights off, encasing us in darkness.

  I concoct a respectful and meaningful declaration of appreciation in my head. Something short and sweet, leaving no room for interpretation.<
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  But when I turn and find him leaning his head back against the headrest and watching me, anything but coherent words comes out.

  Everything—from a sob to a scream to curse words I’ve never even dared to think—spews out of my mouth. Luke hauls me over the center console so I’m half in the seat, half crushed against his chest. My bones sag against him and my esophagus closes before I say something we’ll both regret. Never once does he stop rubbing his hand up and down my back, comforting me to the best of his ability.

  Only when I finally stop crying into his now wet shirt does Luke pull my head back so our noses are touching. The windows have completely fogged up by now, the air so thick it’s hard to breathe. He murmurs my name, and when I look at his plump lips inches from my face, I decide I want to know what sin tastes like.

  I’d sell my soul to the Devil himself if he told me I can kiss his son in this moment.

  So I do.

  I crush myself against his chest, our teeth clinking against each other as I try to get as close as he’ll let me. A pleasured moan rings out through the car, sounding almost painful, and I don’t know if it was him or me. My lower half struggles to get out of the seat and into his lap but I can’t get over the console. Luke wraps his free arm around my waist and pulls me as close to him as possible.

  His lips are a wicked promise while his tongue feels like heaven, the contrast making me shiver in delight. Our teeth clink again and I laugh. With our height difference, I have to tilt my neck left and right, trying to find the right angle without kinking my neck. He grips my chin, holding me in the perfect spot.

  Luke kisses me back like he’s starved, eating at me, devouring me, and I’ve never felt so alive. I sob into his mouth when he lets out a growl, and I smile knowing I have the power to make Luke Hale crumble beneath my fingertips.

  My newfound confidence has my hands sneaking around his neck and doing what I’ve wanted to do since I first met him: run my fingers through his hair.

  The dark strands are thick and soft between my fingertips, just long enough I can take a full handful and turn his head in my desired position. I tilt his head up so my mouth is slanted downwards onto his, giving me easier access to it. My nails scratch along his scalp and a shiver runs through him, so violent I feel it in my own bones.

  Luke sucks on my tongue, sending a shock into my stomach and I jolt upright, hitting my head on the roof of his car. I release his hair and rub the spot I hit, laughing at my own idiocy.

  When the pain dulls and I look back down at the boy underneath me, I take pleasure in reaching out and rubbing my thumb over his bottom lip just because I can. I lean in to kiss him again, already missing the spark of his mouth on mine, when he says my name.

  I pause halfway and pull back, straightening my spine as much as I can in my awkward position. The fire in his eyes when he looked at me is gone, the black so dark it blends in with the rest of the night. He physically shuts down, his features blank. His panting ceases.

  “You want me to leave, don’t you?”

  “Tu es mon rêve,” he whispers. Probably another lie.

  “Menteur,” I say back at him in a language I’ve never spoken before. “Screw you.”

  His eyes widen.

  I wiggle in his lap, trying to dislodge my leg that’s trapped between the seat and the door. Not wanting his pitiful eyes on me for one more second.

  I need some air.

  Hopefully the breeze will ease my burning cheeks.

  Luke’s grip tightens on my back and he opens his mouth to say something but I forbid it.

  “Let me go.”

  I want to pull out of his arms but his hold on me is so tight I can’t even try to jerk out of it. I lean in and snap my teeth in front of his face. “Let. Me. Go.”

  He lifts his fingers off my spine one by one until I’m free from his hold. In one swift movement, I swing off his lap and out of the car. The door slams behind me. If this is God’s way of telling me it’s okay to have a taste of bad as long as you know when to step away, He’s failed.

  For the first time, I’ve never been more disappointed in an unanswered prayer. And I prayed to relive that kiss for the rest of my nights, but I didn’t. Just woke up with an ache in my lungs I couldn’t explain and a fading image of a pair of round, green eyes.

  Soulless.

  Just like the rest of them.

  Daisy cried on the phone when I called her last night. She apologized for calling Luke, but I assured her it was the best thing she could have done for me. Aunt Polly came home none the wiser, and that’s all that matters to me.

  Today is the first game of the pre-season, and the entire school is on pins and needles.

  I had to catch up on some homework, so I spent lunch in the library, successfully avoiding Luke. Even in class, as soon as the bell rang, I jumped up from the seat and sped out of the classroom.

  I didn’t want to look at him any longer than I had to.

  Plus, my attention should be on the fact I have a history exam.

  “What are you going to wear?” Daisy asks me at my locker.

  Apparently, the soccer game is a huge deal. I’m told the opposing team is a long-time rival, and everyone is planning to attend.

  “I don’t know,” I tell her. “Why? Does it really matter?”

  “Well, everyone usually wears red,” she says. “Cause…you know.”

  “I’ll have to dig through my aunt’s closet.” I close my locker. “I’ll meet you guys back here?”

  “Don’t worry. Becs and I will come pick you up since it’s supposed to be real cold tonight. Plus, Becca doesn’t like to go to the games by herself.”

  With Freddie on the team, that leaves his girlfriend to arrive on her own.

  “Okay, I’ll see you guys later.”

  We part ways.

  With my backpack filled with everything I’ll need to study after the game, I begin the trek to my apartment. I make it just past the steps and the Devil statue when someone calls my name.

  I don’t have to turn around to know it’s Lily.

  “Hey,” she says when she skips to my side. “You going to the game tonight?”

  “Isn’t most of the town?”

  “I don’t care about anyone else.”

  I sigh.

  “Okay, well I guess I’ll see you there,” I say and attempt to walk ahead of her.

  “Hey, wait,” she calls. “Is everything okay? My brother ran out of the house last night to help you with something and he came back really weird…like weirder than usual.”

  My face heats up at the thought of Luke giving his sister details of our night. I close my eyes when a pair of ghost lips touch my warm neck. “It’s fine, Lily. I got into some trouble with one of the officers and he came to set it straight.”

  Lily puts her hands on her hips, her vibrant hair flying around her in the wind. “What officer?”

  I grind my teeth at the thought of his name.

  “Officer Valencia.”

  Lily’s eyes widen in surprise before barking out a laugh.

  “That’s rich.”

  I sigh, my head beginning to pound at the upcoming conversation. Knowing how predictable she is.

  “So, need a ride? My brother and I can come pick you up.”

  I cut to the chase.

  “Listen, Lily, I’m not trying to pursue anything with your brother.”

  She takes a defensive stance. “Why not?”

  “Because I’m just not,” I tell her, not wanting to let my mind wander. “I won’t be speaking to him any more than a friend would, and you need to stop fighting with him over something so…irrelevant.”

  “Irrelevant?” Lily scoffs. “Calla, you’re anything but irrelevant.”

  My eyes flutter closed at the sentiment. “I know you think you’re playing matchmaker but, as a friend, I would really like it if you stopped trying to make something happen that’s never going to.”

  Lily sighs, looking sympathetic. “No.
”

  I jerk back. “I’m sorry?”

  “My brother never shows emotions. But when he came home, he sought me out because he wanted to talk, said that he needed a distraction.” She grows quiet, something racing behind her eyes. “I won’t pretend I know anything that goes on in his mind, but if he willingly spent an hour listening to me talk…well, I’d say last night pushed him over the edge.”

  She leaves me standing alone on the sidewalk.

  Her small frame disappears farther up the path leading to her place. When she’s out of sight, I shake my head. Unbelievable. Why do I even bother? Even if Lily doesn’t have an understanding of her brother, there’s no hope for me.

  At home, Aunt Polly is cooking in the kitchen and I suddenly regret that I’m leaving.

  “Perfect timing!” she exclaims. “I’m cooking up a feast in here.”

  The kitchen counters are covered with bowls and the aroma coming from the oven smells amazing.

  “I’m sorry, Aunt Polly, but I was actually planning on going out tonight.”

  Her head picks up and she looks surprised. “Really? On a weekday?”

  “There’s a really important soccer game going on tonight. Remember, I invited you to it last weekend?”

  “Oh yeah, I forgot.”

  “I can stay, if you want,” I say, goading her into it.

  “No, no, of course not.” She dips her finger into a pot and licks it clean. “I’d never want to hold you back.”

  “I’ll just go change and then come back out and help you.”

  “Sure, that’d be great, kid. Dinners almost done anyways.”

  In my room, I dump my backpack in the corner and look in my closet to see if I find anything remotely close to…what? Close to a demon? Don’t be absurd. I don’t even own anything red.

  And neither does my aunt apparently. I change into something a little warmer.

  Aunt Polly is setting out two plates when I rejoin her in the kitchen a few minutes later.