The Devil's Heir

by Leilani Lopez

  Under the hot water, I sigh. My body feels ten times heavier. I reach out and brace myself against the wall to keep upright.

  I watch dirt and moss run down my body and into the drain.

  The overhead shower head pours down on me, the droplets splashing against the marble floors. I hear the faint echo of the boy screaming as his flesh was ripped apart by the demonic creature Luke conjured. Its gravelly growl rings in my head.

  I try to hold everything in, just for another second. Just for another day. Another month. Another year. Just one more…

  My knees buckle and I crumble onto the floor of the shower. I rock back and lean up against the wall, curling myself into as tight of a ball as I possibly can.

  The running water drowns out my silent sobs, the warm water keeping from having the shakes.

  My head hangs between my knees. The steam in the air makes it almost hard to catch a full breath.

  I put my hand out against the glass to support myself. Look up when there’s a vibration against it. Through my strands of hair, I see Luke sitting on the floor outside of the door. He placed his hand on the other side of mine, his fingers flexing.

  Through the fog, his eyes fix on mine. I want to look away but don’t want to break the contact. Afraid to confirm that he’s the glue keeping me together at this point. That those soulless eyes are the only thing that can keep my mind from wandering back into the darkness it was born from.

  He stays seated on the cold floor until I’m ready to get out.

  Whether it has been minutes or hours later, I have no idea.

  All I know is when the water turns cold and the fog has dissipated from the glass, Luke looks away when he holds out a terrycloth robe for me to step into.

  He sits me on the toilet and kneels in front of me. Reaches up and tucks my hair behind my ears.

  My eyes flutter when his warm palm cups my cheek.

  “How did you find me?” My voice cracks.

  “I heard you.”

  “You were there?” I ask with false hope. “At the party.”

  His facial expression tells me all I need to know.

  “I always listen out for you, Calla.”

  I nod slowly, tighten the robe around my waist at the sudden vulnerability.

  “What does that mean?”

  “I can hear you when you call out for me. No matter where you are. If you need me, I’ll always hear you.”

  I lick my lips nervously, my throat tightening again.

  “That boy…did you kill him?”

  “Did you want me to?”

  He asks the question so seriously I have to look at him twice.

  The truth slips out before I want it to. “Yes.”

  The corners of Luke’s lips lift in a reassuring smile.

  “His fate is worse than death, trust me.”

  The creature’s snarl runs through my mind.

  “What did you do to him?”

  “Malum tore his soul from his body. It’s incredibly excruciating, I hear. The psychological damage quite extensive.”

  “But he’ll live?”

  “If you can call having a damaged soul living.”

  “Doesn’t that make him a demon?”

  He snorts.

  “Demons don’t have souls anymore. Malum made sure he’ll spend the rest of his life looking for a part of him he’ll never find.”

  Exactly how I’ve felt my entire life.

  He must read me because he reaches out and squeezes my hand.

  “It’s not the same with you.”

  I wipe away a fallen tear.

  “Why not? You keep telling me I’m damaged. Or tainted. Whatever.”

  He’s not quick to reply and that makes me not want to know his answer.

  “Your soul wasn’t torn from your body. It’s complicated to explain. It’s like your soul was never whole to begin with. Even when I met you, I could feel it.”

  “What’s it supposed to feel like?”

  He smiles sadly and I know his next words are going to be a lie.

  “Like my kind of girl.”

  I nod, not ready to have this conversation again, and try to stand up but a sharp pain explodes behind my temple. I hiss and quickly sit back down.

  Luke reaches forward to steady me.

  “Careful. Your body’s healed but you still have angelic power running through you.”

  “Angelic power?”

  His laugh is shallow.

  “People tend to forget that my father’s an angel, after all.”

  I stop rubbing my pounding temple.

  “So, what does that make you?”

  His features turn to stone, almost emotionless.

  “Whatever people fear most.”

  I’ve heard of people being angry at God or being frustrated with God, therefore his children, but never fear.

  But if He’s the one who puts everyone on this planet for a reason—all the murderers, and thieves, and sinners—then maybe He should be feared. Because why would anyone want to bring such suffering to those who don’t deserve it?

  I suppose no one really knows.

  A burning ache in my shoulder wakes me.

  I toss onto my other side but stop fidgeting when I see Luke on the other end of the bed, facing me. The twinkling lights from the outside patio cast a soft glow into the bedroom. Luke’s thick eyelashes rest on his upper cheeks, his lips plump and soft in his sleep. But even though he’s supposed to be at rest, there’s still a hardness to him.

  Not wanting to disturb him, I roll onto my back and look up at the high ceiling.

  The enormous bed is way too big for just the two of us, and I’m grateful that Luke gave me space. Not once did he try to reach out and touch me, even when he tucked me into bed.

  He mentioned needing to take a call and stepped out of the room. As soon as the door shut behind him, I fell asleep. And have been asleep until just now.

  Though short lived, it was the best night of sleep I’ve ever had.

  But now, I have to take my hand out from underneath the cover to rub at the stinging in my shoulder.

  I rub deep circles in my shoulder in tune with Luke’s breathing.

  I try counting sheep.

  Trying anything to go back to sleep and ignore the burn. But nothing helps.

  Until Luke snorts in his sleep. The sound so sharp and loud that I laugh.

  I bring my hand to my mouth to keep from waking him, but groan when the ache moves to my wrist.

  I sit up in bed, carefully pull off the duvet, and try to scoot toward the edge of the bed. It takes me two scoots until I can slowly swing my legs over the edge, though they dangle.

  I take my wrist in my other hand, digging my thumb into my joints to ease it.

  “Calla?”

  I look over my shoulder to see Luke sitting up in the center of the bed. His hair is sticking up and he rubs a hand over his face. The blanket is pooled around his waist and I notice he’s wearing different clothes than he was when he left the room.

  “Are you okay?”

  I nod, speaking quietly. “Go back to sleep.”

  His eyes go to my lap, where I’m still massaging out the ache.

  Before I can say anything else, he’s off the bed and crouching on the floor in front of me. He flicks a switch and the bedside lamp turns on, casting a glow around us.

  “Let me help you.”

  He holds his hands out, waiting for me to accept his touch, his help.

  I nod and he reaches out, gingerly takes my injured hand in his own. The warmth of his hands immediately puts me at ease. The pain dulls but it’s still present.

  His eyes are on mine the entire time, assessing me, making sure I’m okay.

  “What did you do to me last night?”

  “I healed your wounds.”

  His words sink in, unimaginable, unbelievable.

  From the minute he picked me up off of the forest floor, I felt the power of his soothing touch. If that boy had kept
going for a little longer, squeezing a little tighter, he could have broken my trachea. And I don’t know if Luke can bring back the dead.

  “And right now?”

  A darkness falls over his face. A hardness that wasn’t there before.

  “These are old wounds.”

  “Old wounds?” I ask hesitantly.

  He nods stiffly.

  “Injuries that never healed properly.”

  I look at the hand he’s holding onto. Grandmother used to yank me around as a child. Twice it felt like she dislocated my shoulder but never took me to the hospital. Never massaged it. Never even apologized when I told her that she hurt me.

  It got to the point where I stopped telling her when she hurt me.

  “And how exactly did you do that?”

  “I told you,” he says, “I’m part angel.”

  “Like your father.”

  He grimaces.

  “And that’s all he’ll ever be.”

  I frown, knowing speaking about his family is a touchy subject.

  I decide to push.

  “And you’re…?”

  His jaw tightens, a telltale sign of his growing irritation.

  “Born a demon. Something he’ll never be.”

  He says it with pride, with his head held high.

  I’m in what feels like thousand-dollar sheets, sitting in front of a man who tucked me into bed, and sat on the cold bathroom floor with me.

  “I don’t think you’re just a demon.”

  Luke clears his throat, looks away.

  “And what do you think I am?”

  A loaded question if any. There are a million different ways I can answer this question: evil incarnate, the subject of my fantasies, and probably the reason I won’t be allowed into Heaven. But I don’t say any of those things. Instead, I go for something safe.

  “I think you’re the person who’s going to take me home safely. I’m sure there are people looking for me.”

  “I took care of it.”

  I meet his eyes.

  “Meaning?”

  He reads me too well.

  “They’re fine, if that’s what you’re concerned about. I promise to never hurt your friends.”

  It doesn’t answer my question.

  And he knows that. Because he continues, “I told them you’re a little sick. That you won’t be able to make it to the game but I’ll have you ready for the bus when it’s over.”

  “And did they question why you’re here?”

  I meet his eyes, wanting to see his face if he’s going to lie to me.

  “I told them the truth.”

  My eyes narrow at this ambiguity of his answer.

  “And that is?”

  I’m afraid of the way he looks at me now. Like I just might be all that he says I am.

  Like he believes it. Even if I don’t.

  “That I decided to chase after something worth my time.”

  There’s a flutter in my stomach I’ve never felt before. Like I’m woozy and the only way to make me feel better is to stare at him.

  I clear my throat.

  “You should go back to sleep.”

  He blinks, obviously disappointed.

  “I’m awake. How’s your arm?”

  I remove it from his grasp, put it back in my lap.

  “Better, thank you.”

  He sighs, looks over at the glass wall.

  “Want to go for a walk?”

  The clock on the bedside table reads almost 3 a.m., the witching hour as I’m told, but I can clearly see outside from the lights. Everything beyond the patio is pitch black.

  I nod, wanting the fresh air.

  I’m comfortable enough in the clothes Luke brought for me. He pulls out a jacket and a pair of outdoor slippers from the closet for me to wear as well. When I slip into the jacket, I smile, noticing that Luke’s outfit is identical to mine.

  As we walk through the cabin, lights automatically flicker on, giving me a chance to observe.

  Unlike the manor, the cabin is quite cozy.

  This is probably one of the places that Luke comes to get away from whatever it is he needs to get away from. In the center of the room is a floor-to-ceiling, brick fireplace with a fluffy rug on the floor in front of it. The enormous sofa looks warm and inviting.

  The front door is as large as the rest of the house. Two tall glass panels on either side of the wood dare people to look inside.

  Luke leads us out the front door, not bothering to lock it behind us.

  Like the manor, this cabin is in the center of the forest, completely isolated.

  “Where are we?”

  He reaches out and puts my arm through his, the heat of his body next to mine warm enough to keep me from being cold.

  “We’re close to Seattle.”

  There’s a defined path going deeper into the forest, away from the lights. My eyes struggle to see in front of me but Luke’s hold on me is firm, making sure I stay upright.

  “Is this one of your houses? Or are we trespassing?”

  “I have homes all over the world.”

  “And they just poof out of thin air whenever you want them?”

  “I’m not a genie, amour.” He laughs. “Anyone who’s alive long enough knows how to save money. Demons, vampires, witches, the whole lot of us.”

  My eyes widen, and I’m thankful that it’s too dark for him to see my surprise. Though he could have night vision for all I know. I guess that answers my question about the possibility of other creatures in the world.

  “So, Grandmother was right to fear the night.”

  Luke snorts.

  “If she were alive, I’d show her what it means to really fear someone.”

  He says it so casually, so matter of fact.

  “You don’t mean that,” I say quietly, not even sure if I mean it.

  I can feel his eyes shift down to me but we continue walking.

  “I never say anything I don’t mean.”

  The scariest part is I know.

  He meant it when he said get off his property the first time we met, and I know part of him believed he wanted me to stay away from his family.

  But now that he’s decided he wants me here, I know that’s exactly where I’m going to be.

  “Do you think she’s in Hell?”

  Luke seems as surprised as I am at the question.

  I don’t know where it came from, but I’m more shocked at the fact that I want him to say yes.

  “Do you want me to find out?”

  I don’t respond for some time. The sound of the rocks crunching under our feet louder than the leaves rustling in the trees.

  “No,” I say. “I don’t need to know.”

  He takes in a chest full of air, as if he’s preparing for a big response.

  “Even if she isn’t, I can bring her down if you want.”

  My spine straightens in shock.

  “What do you mean—get her? From Heaven?”

  “Sure,” he says.

  “Isn’t that…illegal?”

  I realize how stupid it sounds but it’s all I can think of.

  Luke laughs, the sound echoing throughout the trees.

  “We’re always at war, amour. We’re the longest lasting rivalry there is.”

  I frown.

  “Do you often steal souls from each other?”

  “No. That would cause a full-blown war.”

  “Well,” I say slowly, “I definitely don’t need a war to start over me.”

  He shrugs, his shoulder brushing against me as he does. “It would give the Fallen something to look forward to.”

  At the sound of a branch snapping, Luke stops in his tracks and I

  almost trip forward. I look up at him but he’s spun us around, his legs hustling to get us back in the other direction.

  There’s an electricity in the air, similar to when he summoned that creature from what’s probably the pit of Hell. Hair stands up on the back of my neck and I l
ook over my shoulder at the sound of two voices.

  “What is that?” I gasp.

  An unfamiliar voice answers me and I jump in surprise.

  “Who’s there?”

  There’s a third voice, and now I’m eyeing Luke, completely bewildered he’s not as shocked as I am.

  The third person seems more surprised about our arrival than Luke and me combined.

  “Lucie Jr, is that you?”

  I blink at the nickname, one that I don’t even think Lily would go as far as saying.

  Instead of growling like an alpha animal, Luke simply sucks his teeth.

  But his demeanor is anything but calm.

  With my arm still tucked between our bodies, I’m forced toward the two men suddenly standing in the middle of the forest.

  As we approach, I notice a small orange flame on the ground between them, casting enough light to see.

  I’ve definitely never seen them before.

  One man looks like he’s on his last bit of luck. His face is pale and pasty, the skin around his eyes dark. He’s as desperate a man as I’ve ever seen.

  The other, well, looks like a complete snob.

  Who wears a suit and a large wristwatch in the woods?

  The suit-wearing man’s face lights up when we come into the light.

  “It is you!” he yells in surprise. “Man, no one’s seen you around in ages.”

  Luke eyes the hand on his shoulder.

  Suit man hastily pulls back and pockets both of his hands. “Seen your dad around? No one’s heard much about Him either.”

  The pale man is looking between the three of us like we’re crazy—which is a fair assessment—but doesn’t say anything.

  So, I think to myself, this is a demon.

  He’s a lot different than what I expected.

  Neither Lily nor Luke sport a tail and horns—as far as I know of—so I don’t know why I assumed a regular demon would. Not that I really know what I was expecting.

  Perhaps with burnt flesh or covered in scales. Or at least have some sort of flies around them? Something that makes them the opposite of angels: pure, clean, and angelic.

  But this man just looks like some regular rich, jerk.

  Who must have a lot of guts to speak to Luke this way.

  The demon’s eyes move to me before once again widening with surprise.

  “Hey, isn’t that—”

  He doesn’t have a chance to finish.