Acca

by Christina Bauer

  “You’ve a mind like a steel trap.”

  Lincoln smiles and tosses me the coin, which I catch in midair. So glad we got this.

  Walker’s voice echoes through the closed door. “Your mothers would like you to join them at the Chapel. I’m to take you there.”

  I slip out of bed and throw on my Scala robes. There’s no point trying to get ready in this place. All my shampoo and stuff is back in my real chambers, which are connected to Lincoln’s. I huff out a breath against my palm. Man, I desperately need to brush my teeth. Good thing my toothbrush is back there, too.

  “Myla? There’s something else you should know.” Walker has that “I’m about to give you a lecture” tone to his voice.

  Ugh.

  I mostly finish slipping on my robes, but not before grabbing Lucifer’s coin and setting it against my breastbone. One of these days, I have to get pockets for this thing. Even so, there’s no way I’m leaving this magical trinket behind. Lucifer’s coin is going the same place as Lucifer’s Orb. My father will lock it up. That’s another one of Dad’s supernatural skills—knowing how to secure dangerous magic like Lucifer’s coin.

  You may be here now, oh dangerous coin. Not for much longer, though.

  Walker’s still stammering as I whip open the door and launch into my speech. “Not so fast, buddy. Let’s talk about portal etiquette first. You do not go zapping around into people’s bedrooms when they’re naked and—” The words die in my throat. Mostly because the hallway is crammed with people.

  Unholy Hell.

  My eyes almost bug out of my head. Thrax, angels, and quasis all line the outer corridor, which is decorated in more pink stuff. My stomach turns queasy. I know these people. They’re all top dignitaries from Antrum and Purgatory. Suddenly, I’m super-aware of my scrunched-up robes and hair that seems styled by the Salon of I Just Got Le Fucked.

  Shoot me now.

  Lincoln moves stand beside me, his demeanor one of total calm. For the record, I have never loved my guy more than I do in this particular moment.

  “Greetings, Walker.”

  “My Prince.”

  “I see that some of our guests are here. I wonder who let them in.” The look on Lincoln’s face says he knows exactly who was behind it. “Could it have been the King?”

  Walker exhales one of his long-suffering sighs. “Your father is very excited for today, My Prince. He’s allowing certain unusual leniencies.”

  Typical.

  Lincoln scans the hallway and nods regally. “How kind of you to greet us.”

  My tail waves frantically over my shoulder in a way that says, Attention? Yes, please. My face burns about twelve shades of red. “Walker says we have to go,” I stammer. “So we should leave. I guess.” Lincoln’s speech to the crowd was smooth. Mine? Not so much.

  Lincoln sets his hand at the base of my spine. His touch is reassuring and awesome in general. “Quite right.” My guy addresses the crowd again. “We look forward to seeing you tomorrow at the wedding.”

  Of all people, Mrs. Pomplemousse steps out from the shadows to wrap me in a big hug. She looks just as she did in Purgatory: a plump grandmotherly type who’s all smiles. She still wears her tight grey suit with a matching pillbox hat and veil. The scent of potpourri slams into my face as she keeps on hugging. “Thank you so much for inviting me to the wedding!”

  I shoot Lincoln a confused look. We invited her?

  He shrugs. In other words, he has no idea how she got here.

  Oh, well. What we both don’t know about our wedding is a lot. I’m guessing this kind of thing will happen often over the next few days.

  “You’re totally welcome.” I scooch away from her because that potpourri stink is worse than my breath. “We have to go now.”

  “But you’re coming to the party tonight, yes? I’m counting on seeing you at the ball.”

  All the air leaves my body. “There’s a ball tonight?” I’m not a fan of social events in general, but balls are my personal nemesis. My back teeth lock in frustration. A surprise ball? This whole thing screams of Octavia. She holds a formal ball when the butler buys a new goldfish. I turn to Lincoln. “I thought we discussed there would be no parties other than the reception?”

  “We did.” Lincoln stares at Mrs. Pomplemousse in a way that says “I’m the prince and you better back off.” “If you’ll excuse us, my future wife and I have many duties to attend to.”

  Mrs. Pomplemousse holds her ground. “But what about the ball?”

  “Excuse us.” Lincoln frowns, and you can almost see the thought bubble over Mrs. Pomplemousse’s head, complete with the words “yipe, yipe, yipe” written inside.

  In other words, she backs off and how.

  With Mrs. Pomplemousse out of the way, Lincoln and I march past what feels like a never-ending hallway of people staring at my le-fucked hair and mostly straight Scala robes. There’s only one way to deal with situations like this one.

  Work it like a pro.

  I stroll by, waving and smiling. Beside me, Lincoln still looks regal and calm. For his part, Walker follows us quietly.

  At last, we pass the never-ending gauntlet of onlookers and enter the warren of hidden passageways that connect different parts of Arx Hall. Unlike the huge public hallways, these spaces are cramped stone passages. Normally, I get claustrophobic in here. But right now? I’m loving the fact that there’s no one else around. I really can’t handle any more smiling and waving for a while.

  The moment we’re out of earshot, Walker stops us all in our tracks. “I must apologize. I portalled into the room to warn Myla about the crowd. However, then you were…And I got…”

  I shrug. “It’s cool, Walker.”

  “But it’s not.” Walker rubs his hands over his pale face. “That was terrible. You’re like my little sister and—”

  “I’ve got an idea.” I raise my pointer finger. “Let’s change the subject.”

  “Agreed.” Lincoln gestures to the far end of the passage. “We’re expected in the Chapel, right?”

  Poor Walker still looks a little shell-shocked. “Yes, your mothers await you there.”

  “I know the quickest paths to that spot,” offers Lincoln.

  “But I’m supposed to lead you.”

  Lincoln sets his hand on Walker’s shoulder. “Will you do something else for me instead?”

  “Anything.”

  “Why don’t you check on the Pulpitum at Transfer Central? There have been strange reports of demon alarms going off. It could be nothing more than our unusual wedding guests, but I’d rather not take the chance.”

  Walker sighs. The relief is plain on his face. “Yes, My Prince. I’ll report back whatever I discover.”

  “Thank you.”

  Walker’s gone so quickly you’d think the man was a sprinter instead of a ghoul. I feel a little guilty. I’m sure his life is crazed today, and it’s all about helping us.

  “Don’t worry about Walker,” says Lincoln.

  “Who said I was?”

  Lincoln gives me a sly look that says, I know you, Myla.

  And he does.

  Lincoln weaves his fingers with mine. “Let’s show you the Chapel.”

  “Right.” I shake my head, trying to get my thoughts back into wedding stuff. “We’re getting married there tomorrow, and I haven’t even seen it.” In my mind, I picture a cute little chapel with carved wooden benches and stained glass windows. “Do you have ceremonies there a lot?”

  “Not often.”

  With that, we head off into the tunnels. Lincoln starts explaining thrax traditions that relate to the Chapel. It’s super-sweet. Lincoln’s gets all excited when he talks about thrax history. It’s charming. Even so, he goes so fast, it’s hard to take in everything. That said, who cares? And as long as no one ever asks me to repeat every little thing he just said, I’m solid.

  Eventually, we leave the secret stone passageways and return to the main corridors. Out here, it’s all golden walls, H
ouse pennants, and suits of armor as decoration. Finally, we reach a small golden door and pause.

  “Is this it?” I ask. “It’s kind of dinky.”

  “It’s a side entrance.” He rubs his palms together. “Well, are you ready to see the Chapel?”

  “Sure.” That’s what I say, but to be honest, Lincoln’s palm-rubbing puts me off a little. My guy only does that when it’s a super-big deal. I frown. What could be so huge about some chapel? I’m starting to wonder if I should have paid closer attention to the walk over when Lincoln opens the door.

  I step inside and gasp. Damn, this place is huge. Like, truly unbelievably massive. And I know large places. After all, I fought in Purgatory’s Arena. Yet this Chapel could eat four of Purgatory’s Arenas and still have room for dessert.

  “This isn’t a chapel. It’s an indoor stadium.”

  The place is all grey marble threaded through with veins of white stone. The space is oval, like Purgatory’s Arena, and has tiered stone seats that stretch off into forever. The floor is flat and covered with more folding wooden chairs than I ever knew existed. Candelabras and pennant poles dot the floor.

  Wow.

  All the veins of white rock wind into a single spot on the opposite floor of the Chapel, where a raised stage has been set against the first tier of seats.

  “This wasn’t what I expected. At all.” My voice echoes through the huge space, so my last words are “at all, at all, at all.” I decide to whisper-talk from now on. That echo stuff is a little creepy.

  Lincoln purses his lips. “You didn’t catch half of what I said on the way over, did you?”

  “Who me?” My tail taps my chest for extra innocence.

  “You.”

  “No, not really. You talk super-fast sometimes.”

  Lincoln winks. “I’ll work on that.”

  From across the massive floor, a small group of people wave and cheer in our direction. It’s both of our parents as well as Cissy and her boyfriend, Zeke. The place is so massive it takes forever for us to meet up at the center of the main aisle.

  Octavia looks radiant in her black gown. “Isn’t this exciting? Tomorrow, the Chapel will be filled to capacity.”

  I try not to wince. “What’s capacity here?”

  “Sixty thousand.”

  A pang of worry moves up my rib cage. “That’s a lot of people.”

  Lincoln steps in to chat with Octavia, while Connor hangs back and talks with Mom. That’s fine with me. Lincoln’s father is on my Jerk List.

  Meanwhile, Dad rushes to wrap me up in a big hug. “My lovely Myla-la.” He steps back and eyes me from head to toe. “You seem a little out of it. Are you feeling well?”

  Oh, crap, I forgot about the fact that I didn’t get read-ready. Plus, my hair is a post-sexed-up mess, which is doubly embarrassing.

  “There’s a long and totally believable story about how I ended up this way. I’ll tell you once I think of it.”

  Dad chuckles. “Nothing to worry about. I’m just so happy I can be here to share all this with you.”

  Warmth and happiness spread through me. “I’m so glad, too.”

  Dad leans in conspiratorially. “By the by, that was some excellent work at the Wheeler Institute.”

  “You’ve been following it?”

  “My daughter and her warrior excursion on Earth? I was thrilled when the call came in for Lincoln’s private demon patrol to clean things up.”

  “So what happened after we left?”

  “The thrax cleaned up everything. Officially, Prescott had a heart attack.”

  “And the Acca warriors?”

  “The live ones are in custody.”

  “In Antrum?” My upper lip curls. I can only imagine how quickly Connor will authorize their release.

  “Hells, no. I had them shipped off to a secret facility of mine on Earth. I’ll disclose the location once Acca gets dismantled.”

  Interesting. Dad’s been alive since the dawn of time, so he has all these little pockets of cool stuff lying around. It’s not a superpower exactly, but I’m still putting that in my journal. A secret prison on Earth. Who’d have thunk it?

  Talking about keeping things secure makes me remember Lucifer’s coin. “Hey, I need to ask you something.”

  Dad’s face gets all serious. “What is it?”

  I pull my father aside while everyone else talks in small groups about the excitement of the day. With so much chattering going on, I can speak confidentially with Dad, so long as I keep a quiet voice. “Remember when we were talking about finding Lucifer’s coin at the Wheeler Institute?”

  “Of course.”

  “Well, Lincoln and I found it.” I bob my head from side to side, thinking. “Actually, the human Prescott found it, and we took it from him. In any case, I’m wondering if you can stow it somewhere safe? Maybe up in the Heavenly vault where you put Lucifer’s Orb? The coin is simply too dangerous to leave around.”

  “Of course. Where is it?”

  I reach into my robes to pull the coin out. It isn’t there. I frown. I could have sworn it put it there, but then again, Lincoln also had it in the backpack. Plus, my brain is a little muddled, what with finding out that I’m getting married in front of sixty thousand people tomorrow. I’m sensitive like that. “Lincoln has it.” I think.

  “Don’t worry about a thing. I’ll get it from him right away.”

  It feels like boulders of worry roll off my back. Dad took care of Lucifer’s Orb. He’ll do the same with the coin, easy peasy. Just as my father heads off in Lincoln’s direction, Cissy and Zeke approach me. My BFF is still wearing her purple senatorial robes, which are super-flattering on her willowy figure. Damn. If I wore something like that, I’d look like a heifer. Cis air-kisses both my cheeks. “I’m so excited for tomorrow.”

  Zeke lurks behind her, posing in his purple armor. That outfit has way too much padding for my taste. That said, I’m not the one running Purgatory’s national guard—Zeke is. Captain Lustboy rakes his hand through his blond hair and winks. “Hey, Myla.”

  “Zeke.” I glare at him. He hasn’t said anything insulting yet. However, when it comes to Cissy’s guy, it’s simply a matter of time. Zeke is part lust demon and can’t imagine anyone not adoring his lame ass.

  “So, it seems you’ve moved on from your infatuation with me.” The look on Zeke’s face can only be described as smug.

  “Zeke!” Cissy steps back to elbow him in the ribs. “Don’t say things like that.”

  Now, I can’t miss how Cissy isn’t calling him a lying liar. Unfortunately, they’re both back under the delusion that I once had a crush on Zeke. Whatever. It isn’t worth explaining for the hundredth time.

  “What?” Zeke shrugs. “I’m only happy she moved on, that’s all.”

  Cissy offers me a sympathetic glance as Mom approaches our group, pulling me into one of her über-clingy hugs. I know this particular kind of embrace, and it’s a warning sign. At this moment, my mother may be all decked out like the President of Purgatory, but inside? She’s all weepy Mom.

  And weepy Mom soon becomes embarrassing Mom.

  “My baby is growing up,” she says with a sigh. “I can’t believe you’re getting married tomorrow. And then, once you have sex for the first time, I know you’ll become pregnant right away with my grandchild.”

  And there she is. Embarrassing Mom. I step back from her hug.

  Zeke does a totally-on-purpose shitty job of hiding a chuckle behind his hand while Cissy looks even more sympathetic. I stifle the desire to run.

  Mom pats under her eyes, clearing away a few tears. “Tell me you’re going to the ball tonight. I can’t wait to introduce you to everyone and tell them I’m about to be a grandmother.”

  “That’s not a good idea. At this point, I’m adjusting to getting married in front of, you know, sixty thousand people.”

  Mom shakes her head. “Sex is nothing to be ashamed of, baby. I’ve been working with Purgatory’s inner city youth. T
hey talk about such matters all the time.” Her tail straightens the lapels on her sleek purple suit. “For example, it’s no big deal to say that your father and I got pregnant right after we banged uglies for the first time.”

  Oh, no. Mom’s trying to act “inner city” in front of my friends. Is there anything worse that a parent can do? If there is, I can’t think of it right now. I put on my most authoritative voice. It’s the one I use before moving souls. “Mom.”

  “What? I told you. He wrapped up his junk and everything. I still got knocked up.”

  Cissy sighs. Zeke all-out laughs.

  I raise my voice. “Mom!”

  “It’s the igni that do it. I think they nibble little holes in the condoms, personally. Not that it makes a difference in getting me a grandchild.”

  “MOM!”

  Cissy steps in to break up the awfulness, which is one of the main reasons why I love her. “Oh my goodness, President Lewis. I just remembered something about the ball.”

  “What?”

  “I’m so sorry, but I already have Myla committed for tonight.”

  “You do?”

  “Oh, yes.” I slap on my most my super-sincere face. “Cissy and I made these plans, oh…”

  Why can’t I think of more stuff to say?

  “Six weeks ago,” finishes Cissy. “You see, all these gifts have come in from across the after-realms. With so many attendees, that’s a lot of stuff. Myla needs to go through the most important things and tell me where to put them.” Cissy’s eyes gleam. “Some people have even sent live animals.”

  Nice one, Cis. Mom is a sucker for stuff like that.

  My mother straightens her shoulders. She’s going back into Presidential mode, and that’s not good for me. “But what about all my donors and supporters? I’d love for you to meet them.”

  When it really counts, I can lie my ass off, especially with my Mom. “And I want to meet them, truly. But dang it all, I already made this commitment to Cissy to help with the gifts.”

  This isn’t bullshit, by the way. We have tons of gifts we’re supposed to sort through.

  Cissy steps up. She looks even more sincere. “Myla has to come right away. Like I said, people have been giving animals as gifts. Trouble is, there are all these small, furry, sweet little animals that need Myla’s help.”