The Devil's Heir

by Leilani Lopez

  “You’re not tainted,” I tell myself. “You’re a good girl. You’re a deserving girl.”

  I see my mouth moving, reassuring me with the words I want to hear but don’t believe in. I repeat the mantra over and over again, looking for some type of change within me. Just a sliver of hope I’m not turning into everything my grandmother called me.

  Nothing. I see no change and begin to wonder how you can turn back into something you never were to begin with.

  They’re probably who put those nightmares in my head. No matter what Luke said, Grandmother made sure I didn’t do anything that would leave me open to any demonic influence.

  It must be the Hales’ doing. Somehow, they did this to me.

  They’re taking everything from me.

  I take the handle of my hairbrush and slam it into the center of the mirror. My grin spreads from ear to ear as the distorted image shatters along with the glass. I ignore the sting and the warmth of blood tricking down my forearm.

  Mine is the last image the mirror is ever going to hold. Me. Not this Camilla person, not Luke, but me.

  In the shards, I lose myself.

  Sunlight peeks through the blinds and moves over my face. My eyes are almost as dark at the Hales’.

  I watch in horror as a smooth layer of liquid spreads over the glass, and the mirror is once more in one piece. My reflection intensified, taunting me to try to ruin it again.

  So I do. Three more times I try to destroy the mirror I was once infatuated with and it comes back together again.

  With a reflection I don’t even know is mine anymore.

  “God dammit.” I drop the bloody brush back onto the dresser.

  Clutching my bleeding hand, I slide onto the floor and rest the back of my head against the dresser, banging it over and over again until my alarm goes off.

  “Diablo was founded in…Diablo was founded in the late 1800’s after… Dammit.”

  I pound my fist onto the porcelain sink in the girls’ bathroom.

  I have ten minutes until I have to give both parts of the presentation Luke and I were supposed to give. Ten minutes to memorize the contents of twenty PowerPoint slides.

  I grip the edge of the counter. Exhale.

  “Diablo was founded in the late 1800’s after…after the state of Washington became the forty-third…no, dammit…forty-second state.”

  I lean down and put my head in my hands, squeeze my eyes.

  Lily’s bloody face comes into my mind. Her white teeth stained.

  I open them.

  They’re everywhere, even when they’re not in the room.

  I couldn’t even sit through the lunch period. Everyone was excited about jumping on the bus after school and taking the two-hour trip out of town for the next soccer game. Apparently, these guys are really good. Better than the last team.

  They’re all talking about a soccer game while everything my grandmother ever feared came to life. Everything I’m supposed to fear.

  I tried to take a nap in one of the stalls during lunch but every time I closed my eyes…I saw her. I saw him.

  Saw Lily spit out a human finger. Felt the metal stake sinking deeper into Luke’s abdomen. The rough sound he made when the spikes broke through that first layer of skin.

  My God, I stabbed someone.

  When I wasn’t even sure if he was who he said he was.

  A demon.

  A red eyed son of Lucifer himself.

  And I kissed him.

  Befriended him.

  Laughed with him.

  Kissed him.

  I’m definitely going to Hell.

  There’s no way the angels will let me into Heaven after this. Even if I begged them, told them I’d repent as much as they wanted me to.

  Even if it’s just to prove to myself that I can still get in, knowing my grandmother wouldn’t approve.

  The bell rings.

  I now have five minutes to collect myself and get to class.

  The hinges of a stall squeak, followed by light footsteps.

  I shoot up, look myself in the mirror, wipe my eyes.

  A freshman walks up to the sink next to me. Smooths her hair and meets my gaze in the mirror.

  “You got this,” she says.

  “Huh?”

  She points to the notecards in my hands.

  “Oh,” I say. “Thanks.”

  She smiles reassuringly and finishes washing her hands.

  I shove the notecards in the small pocket of my backpack and storm out of the restroom. Beeline toward the classroom. I’m the first one in. Everyone is using the few minutes between classes to their advantage. I take the time to set up the presentation.

  I stare at the first slide.

  History of Diablo by Calla Jones and Luke Hale

  The pine trees in the cover photo are gorgeous. Thick and lively, white snow dusted across the tree tops.

  It hasn’t started snowing yet.

  I don’t even know if it’s going to snow here.

  I’ve never seen snow before. Never felt it. Or had the chance to make snow angels like other normal American children.

  I can’t even begin to imagine the places and the things Luke’s experienced. How mundane he must feel here.

  “Miss Jones?” I snap my neck up. Mr. Riley’s speaking to me. “Are you ready?”

  He hands me the clicker when I nod.

  “No Mr. Hale today?”

  I shake my head once.

  He hums in disapproval.

  I lick my lips and force my attention to my peers. This should be easy. Only one group has gone ahead of us and they finished with ease.

  I take in a deep breath and begin.

  The first slide goes off without a hitch.

  I’m confident in my presentation and it shows. The first half are my slides, and I know them like the back of my hand.

  I look around the room. Maintain eye contact. Remember to breathe.

  And then my eyes fall on the empty chair at the back of the room.

  I stumble over my words.

  Luke’s sitting in his usual seat. His eyes home in on me.

  They’re completely red. Not a sliver of white left in them.

  He smiles, his teeth filed to sharp points.

  His mouth opens to say something, but I can’t make it out.

  The students are looking at him. I’m looking at him.

  Tick.

  I think he says my name.

  Tick tick.

  His tongue snakes out of his mouth, and my eyes follow the movement.

  Tick tick tick.

  He’s wearing a pair of Devil horns.

  Tick tick tick tick.

  Blood seeps out of the corner of his mouth.

  Tickticktickticktick—

  Someone touches my arm.

  He mouths to me.

  Camilla.

  Tock.

  “The myth about the Devil living in Diablo originated when a horrible winter passed through the town and not a single person died. All of the surrounding counties had deaths in the hundreds. Rumor has it that the governing figures at the time made sacrifices to the Devil to keep everyone safe. When natural disaster after natural disaster came through and still the town was protected, it only seemed to further strengthen the rumor.”

  I fly through the rest of the presentation, not pausing once for air and never stumbling over my words. They came out of my mouth perfectly, as if I wrote them myself.

  I don’t stick around for questions.

  I take my seat. The hallucination of Luke long gone.

  The remaining minutes of the class pass by excruciatingly slow.

  I’m afraid to blink. Every time I do, all I see is red.

  Red hair. Red eyes. Red blood.

  All I want to do is live in gray.

  Safe, non-homicidal gray.

  I’m the first one out of my seat when the bell rings. I’m halfway to the door when Mr. Riley calls out my name, asking me to hang back.

/>   He makes me wait until all of the other students have filed out.

  “Great job today, Miss Jones,” he says. “I wasn’t sure how this was going to go without Mr. Hale accompanying you, but you did exceptionally well. Once you got your train of thought back, you sped through the rest of the presentation with confidence and accuracy.”

  I nod numbly in thanks.

  It was accurate because Luke wrote the script for the entire presentation, and I based my paper off of it. And I wouldn’t be surprised if he was there to bear witness to it all.

  “Have a great time at the game, Calla,” Mr. Riley says. “You deserve it.”

  I was supposed to take a nap like everyone else when I got home.

  But I couldn’t.

  Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the same thing over and over again and I’m tired of living through something I didn’t cause. Something I never asked to happen. If my actual nightmares are a manifestation of the guilt I had over my grandmother’s death, I have nothing to feel guilty over for Sasha’s murder.

  I didn’t ask Lily to hurt her.

  To dismember her so crudely, so horrifically.

  I have nothing to be ashamed of.

  Yet I can’t get it out of my head.

  Aunt Polly found me sitting on the edge of my bed with my bag packed and staring into the Hale mirror.

  She said I frightened her, that I looked like a ghost.

  For all I know, I’d been staring at one all night.

  She made me a cup of coffee and put it in a thermos, informing me I look like death.

  I certainly felt it.

  When she drops me off at school ten minutes before the bus is going to pull off, I’m shaking with exhaustion. My eyes burn from how tired I am.

  “Be safe, okay?” Aunt Polly says. “And have fun.”

  She reaches over the center console and brings me into a bear hug. The warmth of her embrace has me sagging in my seat, the need to sleep overwhelming.

  The air is crisp and cool, just enough of a jolt to wake me up a little longer.

  I shuffle over to my friends. They all greet me with enthusiasm that’s a little too loud for me.

  “What’s up with you?” Becca asks.

  I take a long draw from the thermos. Grimace at the strong taste. I’ve never had coffee before.

  “Still catching up on sleep.”

  Freddie laughs.

  “I just wish I could have been there to see those Greenfield assholes faces when they woke up to our surprise.”

  “Speaking of,” Daisy says, “where did you go? After we split up, we didn’t hear from you or Lily again.”

  I take another draw of coffee to hide my shaking lip.

  Luckily, Becca intrudes with some more gossip.

  “Did you guys hear about what happened to Sasha Warren?”

  I choke on the coffee.

  Everyone else shakes their heads.

  “Well,” Becca continues, “apparently one of the Greenfield players’ older brother was home from community college for the week and one thing led to another and she skipped town with him.”

  Daisy shrugs her shoulders. “It wouldn’t be the first time she’s done it.”

  “She’ll come running back when he gets tired of her. Just like that last time.”

  Someone coughs and mutters, “Daddy issues.”

  “Did you see him?” My shoulders jerk. “Earth to Calla. Did you see him? Was he cute?”

  I think I’m going to be sick.

  I breathe through my nose. Shake my head.

  “You’ll have to ask Lily.”

  They drop it. And I’m desperate to change the conversation.

  “So, what’s the plan?”

  “We’ll do a group dinner with the jailers and then the teachers are usually out by like ten. Cornwall is a pretty wealthy area so those kids know how to party. There will be a house party somewhere tonight.”

  “And how do we know where we’re supposed to go?”

  “There’s usually a couple cars that’ll usher kids to and from the hotel to the house.”

  Just then, one of the teachers calls out for roll call and we walk toward the horde of students waiting to board the bus. We all climb onto the bus, rowdy kids in the back, the quieter ones up front near the teachers. We’re somewhere in the middle.

  I’m sitting next to the window, relaxing my head back against the worn leather seat. Daisy is sitting next to me though she’s talking over the aisle to one of the other soccer players.

  “Here, let’s switch.”

  Daisy gets up and Tyler takes her spot next to me.

  The bench shakes a little when he sits down, his energy too much for me.

  “Hey,” he says, “excited?”

  “Huh?” I lift my head off of the seat, rapidly blinking. “What’d you say?”

  Tyler smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

  “Everything okay?”

  His blue eyes try to draw the truth from me. But, I lie with a nod.

  “Is it about your grandmother?”

  I’m floored by the question. “What?”

  He runs his finger down the wrinkles on my forehead.

  “You get this look when you’re deep in thought. I can practically see the shadows dancing behind your eyes.”

  My laugh is forced. “Leave it to the Pastor’s son to see right through me.”

  “Nah.” He shrugs. “I just recognize the look. But you know what?”

  “What?” I say but it comes out as a whisper.

  “James was right when he said all gifts come from above… And I promise you, Calla Jones, no matter what you’re thinking about right now, you’ll always be a gift. To someone. Don’t sweat the little stuff.”

  James 1:17

  His words are beautiful, but I wish he hadn’t said them out loud. Grandmother would have approved of his quoting in everyday life, and I try not to think of her anymore.

  Plus, what I know isn’t exactly little stuff, is it?

  “You look like you need a nap,” he says softly.

  “I do.” I sigh. “I really do.”

  He pats his shoulder, inviting me to lean on him. I shake my head. He scoots over on the seat, bumping his shoulder into mine.

  “Come on,” he says. “It’s comfortable.”

  It’s a lie. I’ve seen how muscular and hard his shoulders are. But, underneath the thick Diablo High sweatshirt, it just might be comfortable enough.

  I put the thermos between my thighs and lean my head down onto Tyler’s shoulder. Allow my eyes to close, begin to shiver when I see red. Tyler leans down and places his head on top of mine.

  His hand reaches over to give mine a squeeze. It stops shaking. And I never even knew it started.

  Though the nap was short, it gave me enough of a boost to make it through the dinner we had at a chain restaurant.

  Becca got word from Freddie, who got word through one of Cornwall’s players, that the party was going to happen at the team captain’s house. Who would have thought in my short time in Diablo, I would attend two house parties? Not I.

  “All right, bitches,” Becca says as she bounces on the hotel room bed, “what are we thinking?”

  I sit on the edge of the bed. “About what?”

  “You know, sometimes you make me feel like I’m raising a child.”

  I ignore Becca’s comment and look to Daisy, who’s pulled some clothes out of her bag.

  “Does this outfit say, ‘we’re going to beat your ass tomorrow but you can score tonight?’” The dress Daisy holds up to her body looks like it’s going to be skin tight and is completely backless.

  My eyes widen at the ensemble. “Isn’t it going to be cold tonight?”

  “Oh, Calla,” Daisy says. “Hoes don’t get cold. Remember that one.”

  I didn’t think Daisy was a hoe.

  Becca pulls out a silver, spaghetti-strapped dress with a low neckline. “I think Freddie would like this, don’t you?”

/>   “Oh, yeah,” Daisy replies, “he’s going to eat you alive.”

  Becca shrugs innocently. “Well, I am his lucky charm.”

  Both of the girls squeal while I’m still trying to figure out why hoes don’t get cold. Physiologically we’re all the same, so I don’t see why they would be cold blooded and not get cold…

  “Calla, what about you?” one of them asks me. “What did you bring?”

  I snap out of my daze. “Oh, uh, just some jeans I think.”

  Becca looks at me with disappointment. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

  “Why would I lie about that?” I laugh.

  “Don’t worry, don’t worry,” Daisy says, “I prepared for this.”

  I watch in horror as she pulls out another equally skintight dress, this time with cutouts on the ribs in the form of diamonds. “Thank you, but I think I’m going to stick with what I brought.”

  Becca makes an alarmed sound in protest. “Yeah, I think not. This is your chance to start over.”

  “I already did.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Let me rephrase: This is your chance to be as sinful as you want and never have to worry about seeing any of these people every again.”

  I want to stay as far away from sin as I can.

  “But won’t other Diablo High kids be there too?” I ask the obvious. “They’ll remember what I did.”

  “Everyone going is going to be too shit faced to remember. Plus”—she lowers her voice to a whisper—“no one will know what you do behind closed doors.”

  My brows furrow. “What would I be doing behind… Oh.”

  “Oh, is right.” She winks at me.

  “No, oh, no.” I shake my head. “No way.”

  “Don’t be such a prude,” she says. “I’m not saying you have to pop your cherry, just do whatever you’re comfortable with. Making out is fun enough and really gets the juices flowing, if you know what I mean.”

  I do not in fact know what she means, but I don’t want her to go into further details.

  “Oh, come on, Calla,” Daisy says, “you had fun at the Hales’ party, right?”

  A night I was trying to actively forget.

  My eyes flutter closed and I try to gather myself again.

  “A onetime occurrence, I assure you.”