The Devil's Heir

by Leilani Lopez

  “I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him.”

  I press my face into her t-shirt, squeeze my eyes closed, relish her warmth.

  She holds onto me until I stop shaking. Hours later.

  Aunt Polly almost doesn’t let me out of the apartment. And I almost don’t want her to.

  But I need answers. So, I have to beg her, assure her that I trust my peers.

  She doesn’t give in until Daisy is outside honking.

  “Be safe, Calla!” she calls after me as I hurry down the stairs. “I’m serious.”

  I make sure to give her a big wave when I get to Mrs. Winthrop’s truck.

  “Everything okay?” Daisy asks when I get into the car.

  “Yeah,” I tell her as I buckle my seat belt. “She wasn’t ready to let go of me yet.”

  “Moms,” Daisy says with an eye roll. “Am I right?”

  It’s the first time someone’s mislabeled her as my mother and I don’t feel the need to automatically correct them.

  “Right,” I tell her. “Are we going to pick up Becca?”

  Usually I’m the last one to be picked up because they live closer together.

  “No, she’s there with Freddie.”

  Makes sense to me.

  Daisy retells me the tale of her adventures at the house party, and I pretend that it’s new to me. She’s obviously still excited about making out with that boy, so who am I to stop her excitement?

  The clearing leading up to the Barn is filled with cars.

  More than I’ve ever seen in the student parking lot.

  “It must have been a good game.”

  “A helluva game. Sorry you missed it.”

  “I’m not,” I say before thinking.

  Daisy puts the car in park and laughs.

  “Yeah, I guess soccer is kind of boring if you didn’t grow up watching it. Plus, it seemed like Doctor Hale had you preoccupied.”

  She’s wagging her eyebrows again.

  “No, it wasn’t like that.”

  “That’s cool if you’re not ready to tell me yet. Just know that I’m always here if you need an ear.”

  “I appreciate it.”

  We get out and the music is already blaring through the wood doors.

  We zigzag through the cars and Daisy yanks open the heavy doors.

  Inside, it seems like the entire student body is in attendance. Kids I’ve only ever seen in passing are crowded around the little bonfires, drinking from red plastic cups.

  Daisy beelines through the crowd and I’m close behind her. She makes a pit stop at large round coolers set up on one side of the building. One of the sophomore boys on the soccer team hold up two fingers and I shake my head.

  As Daisy reaches out to take the beer, a familiar tingle goes up my spine. I turn around and the crowd conveniently parts, revealing my friends standing around a fire. Luke says something to Tyler and they both laugh, the shadow dancing across Luke’s sharp features.

  He clasps Tyler’s shoulder and even Freddie joins in on the laughter.

  It’s the first time I’ve seen him relaxed amongst a crowd.

  By the time my gaze lands on Luke, he’s already staring at me.

  His lips are still pulled in an easy smile.

  And for just a second, I revel in the fact that it just might be for me.

  Daisy drags me toward the group.

  I stand on the other side of the flames, away from his touch. He notices but doesn’t push me.

  Becca and Daisy take over the conversation, leaving the rest of us to pitch in when appropriate. I enjoy watching them banter with each other. Like they’ve been friends for their whole lives and sometimes forget that they’re in a crowd.

  I’ve borne witness to many of their conversations in the back seat of Mrs. Winthrop’s car. Just listening in on their gossip.

  No one questions why Luke doesn’t have a drink but everyone comments on my lack of red cup. When Daisy and Becca are ready for a refill, Luke decides it’s time to go. He nods toward the door and I reluctantly turn.

  My friends hoot and holler when the two of us leave, making me shake my head again.

  Luke slides open the door for me and when he shuts it, a small redhead appears in front of me.

  I tense at the sight of her.

  Lily calls out my name and throws herself into my arms, pressing herself firmly against me.

  “I’m so glad you’re okay,” she says. “When my brother told me what happened to you, I nearly went to go kill that boy myself.”

  She releases me and takes a step back.

  Though her face is as radiant as always, I keep picturing it covered in blood. Her white teeth smeared red.

  “Hi, Lily.”

  She frowns, her whole face falling.

  “Is something wrong? Luke said he healed you but...”

  I lick my dry lips, try to gather enough saliva in my mouth to speak again.

  “Hi, Lily.”

  “You already said that.”

  She crosses her warms over her chest, looks to her brother.

  “What’d you do to her?”

  Luke mimics his sister’s stance.

  “I’m not the one who killed someone in front of her.”

  “Well, I’m not the one killing collectors because I was dumb enough to let him find out my girlfriend’s human.”

  “I wasn’t ready to share her,” he tells his sister.

  Now I’m the one crossing my arms over my chest.

  “Share me? What are you talking about?”

  “Demons are nosy creatures,” Lily says. “Especially when it comes to my family.”

  “Because you’re royalty?”

  “Because we’re powerful,” she deadpans. “There are creatures of every caliber trying to take over Hell. You’re the perfect pawn they’ve been waiting for.”

  “Lily,” her brother snaps.

  “No,” she responds. “She deserves to know what’s coming her way if she wants to stick around. Every monster you’ve ever heard about are real. The whole lot of them. And all of them would love the power to control demons.”

  “How can demons be controlled?”

  “There are different type of demons,” she explains. “The ones created from damned souls and the ones straight out of the morning fire. Creatures that are made from the deepest pits of the Earth. Creatures that never had a soul to begin with. They’re controlled by a master, by who created them.”

  My chest feels tight, a heavy weight upon my shoulders. I envision those red eyes.

  “And are there a lot of those…creatures?”

  “In Hell, yes. But they’ve never touched the Earth’s surface.”

  “Why not?”

  “They’re more like guards. Just to keep the souls and the demons in check.”

  “And there are different levels of demons?”

  “Of course. For example,” she continues, “any entry-level demon just kind of exists. We start them off in Torturing 101. A real fun class. Then there are the collectors, ones employed like bookkeepers, oh, then there’s the ones who like to participate in possessions, haunt abandon buildings for fun, that type of stuff. Then there are—”

  “I think that’s quite enough, Lily,” Luke says.

  That’s more information than I ever needed.

  “Thank you, for that,” I tell her.

  She reaches out and touches my arm.

  “Listen, I can see that there’s a tension between us and I want to apologize for that. I never meant for you to see me that way.”

  Her brother’s eyes widen at her apology, something I’m sure is a first for her.

  “It’s okay, Lily. Your brother sent a demonic creature to steal someone’s soul, so, really you’re even.”

  Her face pales, eyes dart to her brother.

  “She saw Malum?”

  He nods once.

  “What’s a Malum?”

  “I’ll tell you later,” Luke says.

  “Right,” Li
ly says. “Well, I’ll see you later, Calla.”

  “Maybe,” I say softly.

  She nods but the smile doesn’t leave her face, as if she doesn’t believe my rebuttal.

  We wait until she gets safely inside the doors before we continue our way to his car.

  When we’re in the car, I ask, “So, if you weren’t going to give me the breakdown of how demons work, what is it you need to show me?”

  “I’ll show you.”

  Minutes later, we pull up to the manor.

  When he takes me out of the car, he doesn’t try to hold my hand or wrap his arm around my waist. Instead, he places an open palm in the center of my back and leads me through the quiet house.

  When we approach the hall where the bedrooms are, I stiffen.

  The memory of the last time I was here is an unpleasant one.

  He pushes open his bedroom door.

  The room is empty, the same as I remember it.

  My eyes dart to the closet door.

  “Why did you bring me here?”

  He clears his throat.

  “I thought this would be the best way to explain this to you.”

  “Explain what?” My voice is tight.

  “I want to tell you about Camilla.”

  My fingertips start tingling. The hair on the back of my neck stands up.

  “Why now?”

  “You keep asking me why you. What makes you so special. I’m not very good with words, so I want to show you.”

  I grind my teeth but nod. Whether I like his answer or not, I do want to know.

  He opens the closet door.

  There’s another painting in the closet. Except this one’s larger and on an easel.

  I take a step closer, stand in the doorway.

  It’s me. There’s no doubt about it this time.

  My hair is parted and lying over both of my shoulders. The walls are colorful and it looks like I’m sitting in a booth. There are people in the background but I’m the focal point of the painting.

  I’m smiling and it actually reaches my eyes.

  There’s a milkshake sitting on the table in front of me, the whipped cream spilling out over the brim. My hands must be cupping the lip of the bench because it looks like I’m leaning forward.

  It’s the day he took me to lunch.

  And the next day is when he told me that he didn’t want my reputation affecting his family.

  I retreat, turn away from the portrait.

  “Why did you show me this?”

  Luke removes the painting from the closet and sets up both portraits in the center of the room.

  One is a regal girl and one modern.

  The eyes are still the biggest difference. All I see is them staring back at me.

  Her eyes are warm, friendly, and inviting. Mine pretend to be light.

  “So, we’re not exactly identical.” I peek over my shoulder to see Luke carefully watching me, his own expression tight.

  “It was the first thing I noticed.”

  “Did it scare you when you saw me for the first time?”

  Luke barks out a nervous laugh. “What scared me was hearing my sister scream out my name. We had just moved back to the manor and I’ve never heard Lily sound so urgent before.”

  I have a flashback to the night I broke into the property and physically ran into Luke. Seeing him shut off when I told him I wasn’t this Camilla person was one of the scariest moments of my life.

  “Had you been anyone else, I would have killed you.”

  He says it so surely, with no hint of sarcasm or embarrassment. It’s a fact. and I knew it then just as much as I know it now.

  “Why didn’t you? Out of fear?”

  “Because I thought it was a cruel joke from my father as punishment for leaving. But Lily insisted we pursue you. And when I discovered you were real…well, I decided I couldn’t leave just yet.”

  I think back to all of the times he was cruel towards me.

  “Well, you certainly fought Lily tooth and nail over it.”

  “What do you mean?” he asks, genuinely confused.

  “I felt it. I could feel your hatred toward me, I just didn’t understand why.” I laugh awkwardly, suddenly uncomfortable. “The look in your eyes was the scariest thing I’ve ever had pointed at me.”

  He frowns. “I apologize. I’m usually good at masking my emotions.”

  “I don’t think you’ve ever hidden any type of emotion from me.”

  “Yes, well, I’m generally not my best when I’m with you.”

  I cock my head to the side. “And what’s that supposed to look like? What do you consider to be the best you?”

  He doesn’t respond for quite some time. “I don’t know if I’m referring to who I am or what I am.”

  “And what’s that?” I ask him. “A demon?”

  “The demon. I’m the demon people talk about. The demon people fear…my father’s just the face of Hell.”

  His face is haunted as he speaks, seeming both proud and burdened at the same time.

  “The fact you’re not even sure which version of yourself you think is the best tells me you’re more than just the demon that priests and nuns talk about.”

  He smirks and the tension slowly eases out. “Are you afraid of me? Do all of your Sunday school lessons make you want to run out of here?”

  I’m honest with him.

  “Yes.”

  “Well, you’re smart.” He looks back to the portraits. “I wish I was as smart as you.”

  “Is that what happened to her? You stayed in her life?” I ask quietly.

  He nods.

  “I should have left her. If I did, she might have lived a beautiful life.”

  I never knew that my heart could travel up, enter my throat and threaten to cut off oxygen. I hold the emotions in, refusing to fight.

  “But you loved her?”

  He’s quiet for a long time, his gaze completely focused on the portrait of Camilla. Something flickers behind his eyes and his jaw moves in tune, almost like he’s reliving a memory. Eventually, he frowns.

  “No,” he says.

  My breath hitches. “What changed?”

  Luke holds my eyes and confidently says, “I met you.”

  I inhale sharply and my chest tightens. “I’m no one.”

  He reaches out and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, his knuckles grazing my cheek. The fingers that ripped a heart out of a chest yesterday. “You’re everything. Spending time with you made me realize I didn’t know Camilla as well as I thought. I know that you only wear black because you don’t want to stand out. I know you make a little hum every time you eat because you were stuck eating the same food for almost seventeen years. I know your friends make you uncomfortable because they want you to be something you’re not sure if you’re ready for. And I know you don’t hate me because every moment, every thought you hid away from your grandmother in fear of retaliation, are parts of you that I would never turn you away for.

  “I would never—I could never—know her the way I’ve grown to know you. And I would really like to continue getting to know you.”

  “You’re wrong,” I say hastily.

  “No, I’m not.”

  I don’t know if he’s right. About any of it.

  I’ve accepted myself. I have accepted myself. Any sins I thought of committing are nothing in the grand scheme of life and were only that: thoughts. I’m not the sinner my grandmother tried to make me out to be.

  “What happened to her?” I ask instead.

  “We lived in a time where illness, famines and war were common and often. The upper class were disgustingly rich while the poor were quite literally eating the scraps out of the streets. Sin was constant and plenty. And with death comes opportunity. This was one of the rare times my father opened the gates to Hell and allowed demons to give the dying an alternative. Die and go to Heaven. Or sell your soul and have the possibility of living forever.”

  I frow
n.

  “And what do these…demons have to do with her?”

  “I was in France at the time to make sure that the demons were behaving. If left unchecked, demons can tend to get a little out of hand. I was in the middle of an…interrogation when she saw me send a demon back to Hell. She was frightened and backed into the street. And she didn’t see the oncoming carriage…”

  His voice trails off, his eyes remaining on her painting.

  “And what made her special?” I ask.

  He smiles at the memory.

  “She tried to save me from a mugging.”

  I frown, unsure what that means.

  “And that was…?”

  “Incredibly un-lady like.” He laughs. “But she was tough. Gave food to the poor. Was always ready to pull up her skirts to fight on someone’s behalf. But incredibly well educated. A rarity of the time.”

  “And were nursemaids high in society?” I ask, referring to the luxurious wardrobe in the painting.

  He barks out a laugh.

  “No. But it’s how I try to remember her.”

  “So, what was it? Love at first sight?”

  “Camilla was a nursemaid for a very wealthy family. So, I suppose you can say we ran into each other often enough for my interest in her to be piqued.”

  “So, what? You spent your time partying with French nobility?”

  “No.” He snorts. “The wealthy tend to have some of the weakest minds. Demons can practically smell their desperation, so when it came time to look for hunt for the rebellious demons, Versailles was a place I often lurked around.”

  A vision of Luke Hale, undoubtedly gorgeous, and well-sought after in high society comes to mind. I can’t even begin to imagine what he looked like. In a suit, tailored to perfection. His luscious hair was probably longer, or perhaps pulled back. Wandering the golden halls during the day, and banishing demons at night.

  All while pursuing my look-alike. Someone fascinating enough to catch his gleaming eyes.

  My stomach turns again, with a feeling I’ve come to despise.

  I look toward the painting of me.

  “So, you’re saying it’s just a coincidence that we’re identical? Doppelgängers of some sort?”

  He blows out a sharp breath and I know I’m not going to like his answer.

  “Camilla was the first human I had ever taken interest in, and it didn’t go unnoticed. When she died, I tried to take her soul but could only grab a part of it.”