1 Straight to Hell (29 page)

“I’m dreaming,” he said, sounding panicked.

“No,” I said.

“Then it’s an illusion!  It has to be.”

I shook my head.  “You’ve seen the evidence of my death yourself.  And now that I’ve been dead, I can cross between worlds.  Tommy, I’m sorry, but this is the afterlife.”

When I felt that he was at his most vulnerable, I let the emptiness part a bit so that he could see his sister.  Stacy, as despondent as before, looked up in surprise when she saw us.  “Tommy?”

“Stacy!”  He ran towards her.

“I was wrong about all of it,” she said.  Her voice shook.  “There’s nothing waiting for us on the other side, Tommy.  Nothing at all.  It’s all a lie.”

Those were my words, of course, and they worked a dark miracle on Tommy.  I swore that I could see his faith shatter.  He reached out a hand to touch his sister, but she disappeared like smoke.  “Take me home,” he begged.

Grabbing his arm, I dragged him back to my apartment.  Our rapid reentry made him huff as if he’d been socked in the gut.  Which, considering what he’d seen, I suppose he had.

He looked dazed.  “Was that real?”

“Horrible, isn’t it?”  I didn’t say anything more, afraid that if I did, he’d start to question the illusion.  Right now, I didn’t want him thinking.  I wanted him feeling.

“But it can’t be.  It can’t be!”  He got off the couch and stalked up and down the room.  “Religion is a part of every culture in the world!  And there are miracles, and people who swear they’ve seen God!”

I nodded.  “I know.  It was a horrible shock for me, too.”

He’d begun to cry.  “So it’s all a lie.”

It’s a terrible thing to watch hope die.  Tommy raged a while longer, but at last fell back onto the couch.  His eyes were empty, reflections of his crushed spirit.

I’d thought I’d done as much as I could to hurt him, but my demon nudged me again.  There was more.  I was beyond resisting it.  I’d come this far, and there was no sense turning back now.

I didn’t need my succubus to whisper the next part of the plan.  I knew what I had to do without being told.  I took Tommy’s face in my hands and gently turned it towards me.  “I can’t tell you how sorry I am,” I said.  “But you don’t have to go through this alone.  I’m here for you.”  I kissed him.  He resisted, but only for a moment.  The horror of what he’d seen combined with my demon’s charms had worn him down.  When I led him upstairs to my bedroom, he followed.

I’m too ashamed of my actions to give any details about the sex.  What I did was dirty enough without exploiting it further.

But I will say this: it was a completely joyless coupling.  I, or rather my demon, feigned passion quite well, but there was no pleasure, no release, no comfort.  Like the hell I had created, there was nothing.

When I lay next to him, my head on his shoulder, my demon went to work to fan the spark of his puppy-dog affection for me into something stronger and hotter until Tommy was passionately in love with me.

He never noticed when Jasmine had opened the bedroom door.  But I watched with cold-eyed indifference as my stepsister’s expression went from confusion to shock to grief.  I swear I could hear the sound as her heart broke.  To my demon ears, it was like a chorus of angels singing.  She never said a word, but only shut the door.  A few minutes later, I heard her lugging heavy objects from the basement followed by the slam the back door.

When Tommy fell asleep, I went down to the kitchen.  As I expected, Miss Spry was waiting.  “Well done, my dear.”

Fuck you, I thought, but kept my mouth shut.   Instead, I made a pot of coffee.

“Destroying young Tommy’s confidence in the otherworld was good,” she continued, “but breaking his vow of celibacy and destroying your sister…well, that was genius.  Sarah Goodswain herself would have been very proud.”

Well then, fuck her, too, I thought.

“I know you’re upset, but it will pass, I promise.”  Now that she’d gotten what she’d wanted, Miss Spry was all hearts and flowers.  “And to help you, I’ve brought a gift.”  She placed an envelope on the table.

I glared at her.  “Just bring Grace back.”

Miss Spry smiled cunningly. “I already did.”

At that moment, I heard Ari and Grace shouting over who got the bathroom first.  Never in my life had I heard anything more beautiful.  I pressed my hand against my trembling lower lip.  “Now get the hell out of my house.”

She did, and at that moment, both girls ran into the kitchen demanding breakfast.  “I want pancakes,” Ari said.

“No, French toast,” Grace whined.

I went to the table and picked up the envelop Miss Spry had left.  The insurance company’s logo was on the front.  With shaking hands, I opened it and removed the check.  It was a thousand times more than what I’d been expecting.  With it, I could not only restore my old house, I could also pay off all of my bills and still have enough left over to make a trip around the world.

“Let’s go out for breakfast,” I told them.  I couldn’t bear to be in that kitchen a moment longer.

Grace clapped her hands.  “Cool!  Should I tell Jas?”

I couldn’t draw my eyes away from those numbers on the check.  “Don’t bother.  Jas has decided to move out.”

There was a stunned moment of silence as the girls worked through this.  Then Ari said, “Can I have her room in the basement?”

I waited until Ariel had moved her things into the basement before I confronted her about the man with the white hair who’d been following her.  The basement was the perfect place to talk since there was only one exit, and I could easily block it and keep her from escaping.

She seemed to sense my tactical advantage the moment I closed the door behind me.  She sat on her bed, giving me her best I-don’t-care-what-you-say-I’m-not-talking look.

“About the other day,” I said.  “I’ve talked to Mr. Matthias at your school, and told him you will go to the library every lunch hour since you can’t be trusted to stay on the playground without running away.”  It was a clever solution, if I did say so myself.  It would keep Ari under the watchful eye of the librarian who ate her lunch in her office.

I’d thought Ariel be furious with me, but she met her fate with a nod of resignation.  “Okay.  It’s better than the playground, I guess.  At least it will be quiet.”

“Really?”  I was amazed.  Ari scorns books unless they can teach her something useful like how to build a bomb out of a bag of fertilizer.

“I hate the playground just like I hate school.  It’s so noisy and crowded and there’s always kids in your face.”  She gave an adult sigh.  “I need to be alone for a while, that’s all.  It takes the edge off.”

I suppressed a smile.  “So that’s why you went for a walk every day?”

She nodded.  “Sometimes I can’t
deal
with the stress, you know?”

“I know.”  I sat next to her on the bed.  “But I really wish you would have said something about that man who was following you.  If not to me, then to some other safe adult.”

Her back stiffened, and she remained silent.  And then I understood.  To Ariel’s way of thinking, there were no safe adults.

“You can’t do everything on your own, Ari.  It’s okay to accept help.  That doesn’t make you weak.”

Her eyes were swimming with tears that she angrily scrubbed away.

“You may not believe me, but I love you.  I really, truly do.  And it scared me so much when I saw that man trying to hurt you.”  I put my arm around her, expecting her to pull away.  But to my relief, she didn’t.  In fact, she moved in closer.

“I hated that fucking bastard,” she said.

“Me, too.”  I’d called the police on him, of course.  Alan had also promised to warn every parent at the school about the danger.  I had a strong feeling, however, that the white-haired man in the battered car would sense that he was being watched and disappear.  And I also suspected that it would only be a matter of time before he reappeared somewhere else.

“So,” I said, “do we have a deal?  You’ll tell me when you need help.”

She glowered.  But a moment later, sighed and nodded.  “Yeah.  Whatever.”

I kissed Ari’s head and went to the door.

“Auntie Lil?”

I turned around.  My niece was keeping her head down, pretending to study her chipped, black nail polish.  “Thanks.  For everything.”

Ari might have thanked me, but she was wrong.  I hadn’t given her everything.  Not yet.  Also, I still owed DuShawn.  But although I had an idea that would help them both, I knew that I couldn’t do it alone.  After all,  DuShawn’s monster seemed pretty big for one person to deal with.  Even a someone with a demon inside her.

So I took my own advice and asked for help.

When Mr. Clerk came over for some tea and Real Housewives, I showed him two things I’d never hoped to see again, but couldn’t bear to part with just the same: Ari’s voodoo doll, which I’d rescued from the trash, and DuShawn’s drawing of the horrible demon that I’d liberated from Alan’s desk.

They both repulsed and fascinated me.  If anything could describe how I’d been feeling over the past few weeks, it was the despair and helplessness evident in these childish artworks.  But I’d also used them as inspiration to form a plan so perfect that it made me smile whenever I thought of it.

Mr. Clerk picked up the picture of DuShawn’s monster and made a face.  “I’ve seen this thing before.”

“Is it really that big,” I asked, worried.

“At least this big,” he said.  “And probably twice as fierce.  Some demons are smarter than humans, but a good many of them are like this one: animal-like in their needs and appetites.  And this one feeds on terror.”

“And would it terrify an adult?”

“Absolutely,” he said.

“What about you?”

He sniffed.  “Of course not.  It’s only another demon, after all.”

“Good.  Because I need your help.”  I told him my plan.

His eyes widened, and he dropped his cup, spilling tea into his lap.  “You want me to
what
?”

I ran to fetch him a towel.  “But don’t you think it’s a good idea,” I asked.

He blinked nervously as he dabbed at his white pants.  “I think it’s a wonderful idea.”

“What about Miss Spry?  Would she approve?”

“I don’t think she’d mind, no.  But I also don’t think I’m the right person to help you out.  Ask William,” he suggested.

“I don’t want to,” I said.  I was still furious with William, and wasn’t about to ask him for any favors.  Although it seemed impossible to keep William out of my thoughts, I could at least make sure I stayed away from him physically.  “Please, Mr. Clerk, Patrick.”  I touched his shoulder.  “I would consider it a personal favor.”  I smiled.

“Don’t try your charms on me,” he said, glowering.  “They won’t work.”

I always knew he was more of an incubus man.  I sank against the couch, nearly defeated.  But the next moment, I sat up again.  “How about for my mother?  Would you do it as a final favor for Carrie?”