Beelzebub Girl (18 page)

I smiled. "Are you feeling better?"

"Maybe a little." He caught my lips in a fleeting kiss. "Your dad asked how the campaign's coming along. He said it'd be nice if he didn't have to wait for all eternity. Isn't he funny?"

I smirked. "Hilarious."

"He also said you couldn't visit your aunts before he saw some progress."

Groaning, I pulled the covers aside and jumped out of bed right into my fluffy, pink slippers. "Let's get to work then."

Dallas placed his hand on my arm, stopping me. "He said something else."

"Really?" Irritated, I stared at the blooming pink tulips on my dresser that weren't there a day ago.

"He asked me to invite Amber and Aidan for dinner. We're having—" Dallas cringed as he finished his sentence "—beef steak."

"Again?" Crap! Dad was onto me. My heart skipped a beat. I turned away from Dallas so he wouldn’t see my shocked expression.

Did Dad know about the vampires hiding in Hell? He couldn't possibly when he never frequented Distros. And yet something made me lose my cool.

"I think it's a good idea, but maybe talk to the chef and see if he can burn the meat to a crisp this time. Amber's not a fan of blood and gore." Dallas would eat raw meat to prove a point to Dad, but he wouldn't make his poor sister suffer the same fate too. Boy, did he coddle her.

"Maybe another time." I bit my lip to keep me from making a sarcastic comment. He sure did go out on a limb for his baby sis. What was she on? VIP status? I might as well roll out the red carpet and bow down at her feet. Oh, wait. I was already doing that. The girl had it made; everyone at her beck and call. Aidan on her arm, Dallas at her side and me at her feet even though she couldn't wait to ruin my relationship with Dallas. She was just lucky she happened to be the love of my life's sister. Like it or not, she was family...or soon to be, so I decided to suck it up a little longer.

Irritated, I tossed the tulips into the wastepaper basket and went to take a shower, then slipped into a pair of skinny jeans and a tank top in my walk-in closet, leaving my curly hair to dry naturally.

Dallas was still lying on the bed, waiting.

"Ready to go?" I asked.

He stood and followed, stopping in front of my office. "You know what's strange? Even though someone knocked me down, I have no bruises."

Yet another detail escaping my mind. Dad would call it sloppy.

Smiling, I turned. "He didn't kick us. It was more of a shove and then we fell, hitting our heads in the process." Dallas nodded, unconvinced.

I pulled him into the bright room and shut the door. "Can we get to work, please?"

He nodded and dropped into his chair. I rummaged through the sheets until I found the one with the previous brainstorming session's notes. In my distorted memory, there were countless bullet points. In reality, there were less than a half dozen.

"Still nothing, huh?" Dallas said. Reminding me of that tiny detail wasn't exactly going to help kick-start my motivation. Dallas grabbed the paper out of my hand and started reading. "I told Amber about the campaign, and she said she'd be happy to help."

My heart pounded. "You spoke to your sister?"

"Yeah, I called her."

"What did she say about the mugger and everything that happened?" If Dallas spilled the beans, I was screwed. Amber would drag him out of Hell in a heartbeat, and I'd lose him and end up cursed to Hell for eternity.

"Don't worry. I didn't say a word. I wasn't in the mood for a long sisterly lecture. She's quite fond of those." I let out a long sigh. "So can she help us with our project?" he asked.

"What could she possibly do?"

He eyed me carefully, hesitation crossing his face. An instant later, it disappeared again, and I knew he wasn't ready to spill the beans yet. "She suggested an event."

For the sake of my sanity, I hoped he'd stop advocating bringing people down here or trying to scare them to death. "Did she mention what kind of event she had in mind?"

"Yes, and it's a good one too. Promise you'll give it a chance."

I looked up at his smiling face. His gorgeous, speckled eyes shimmered, but there was a tight line around his mouth that wasn't there before. Aidan asked Amber not to get involved in our relationship so she found another way to push her controlling presence into our lives whether we wanted it or not. If I declined her help, Dallas would end up thinking I was rude. I couldn't let him think badly of me when I hadn't even dropped the bomb about my true identity yet. On the other hand, I wasn't keen on making a promise I had no intention to keep either.

"I promise I'll run it past Dad. How about that?"

"Good enough," Dallas said. "We were thinking about a ghost theme with psychics. Visitors could pay to talk to the dead." His hand closed around mine. "I know it's a lot of work, but we're all here to help."

"It's great. I love it. Let's see what Dad thinks though." He seemed so enthusiastic and confident about his idea, how could I shatter his hopes?

"Amber's a great actress. She'll be happy to play the psychic role."

I nodded, smiling. She was a necromancer; talking to the dead came with the job description. Of course she'd nail the part.

"Thanks for letting her be part of this. She's gone through a lot recently," Dallas said.

"Dad's having the last word."

His fingers started drawing circles in my palm, sending small jolts up my arm. "You know how much I adore you, right?" His voice was soft, promising. Nodding, I raised my fingers and trailed them down his cheek. He was so beautiful, it broke my heart because I knew he wasn't like me. His existence had a shelf life. I'd been trying to ignore this fact ever since Dad mentioned it.

I was lost in his golden gaze, peering right into his soul. We kept so many secrets from one another, and yet I doubted I'd ever felt closer to anyone in my entire life. We were connected by a silver thread we couldn't see, and that scared me because I feared it might rip any minute. How can you protect something you can't see?

"I don't ever want to lose you," Dallas said. His voice came even lower than before. Melancholy filled the air, like a thin, dark veil concealing the future ahead.

"Prove it. My birthday's in a few weeks."

"Cass, you know I can't buy you fancy diamonds and what else you women like. Heck, I can't even give you a house like this." He motioned around. "But I can give you my undying love. I want us to get married when you turn eighteen or as soon as your dad's okay with it."

"Why wait?" I couldn't stop the goofy grin forming on my face. I'd never been so happy. "It's the perfect birthday present ever. Nothing would make me happier than being your wife...before I turn eighteen."

If he was surprised by the sudden hurry, he didn't say so. Maybe he felt the urgency in my tone.

"I'd like that." Dallas smiled. A tiny dimple I didn't notice before appeared on his right cheek.

This is even worse than the newly wed shows on TV
, Kinky said.

They're in love
, Pinky said, wiping away a tear.
Isn't it cute?

Did he just say television? That was the idea I'd been waiting for. Why bring people down here when we could deliver Hell into their living rooms? "We're doing a TV show," I whispered. Ignoring Dallas's questioning look, I grabbed a sheet of paper and started scribbling.

"I see your muse has just arrived." Dallas stood and pointed at the door, amused. "See you later, babe."

"Thanks." I barely raised my gaze from my notes, lest my idea miraculously evaporate into thin air and I was forced to start from scratch.

An hour later, my proposal was ready for Dad. My heart hammered in my chest as I made my way to his office, hoping he was in there for a change because I'd rather not leave the comfort of air-conditioning to chase him around Hell. I pushed the mahogany door open and peered into the empty room. Of course I could wait until he got home for dinner, but I'd be wasting another couple of hours, which I didn't have. Sorting out Dad's campaign so I could move on to my wedding issues was my top priority.

I couldn't call him on the phone because he didn't like being disturbed at work. Face to face I stood a greater chance of appeasing him enough with my campaign plan to tell me the whereabouts of my aunts. Why he insisted on making Hell the next top travel destination was beyond me. Let's face it, with its reputation of being home to mass murderers and the likes, who in their right mind would want to spend a week down here, let alone all eternity?

The entrance door downstairs opened and Dad's heavy footsteps thudded up the stairs. Seeing me, he stopped and smiled.

"Finished for the day already?" I asked.

He sighed. "I might be if my lovely daughter gave me a helping hand."

"My campaign proposal's ready."

He cocked a brow, impressed. "You didn't waste time then."

Guess that's what happens when you're fighting against the clock to beat a curse that'll chain you to the pits of Hell forever. "You know me, Dad. I'm a go-getter kind of gal."

"That's the spirit." He held the door to his office open. I walked past and spread my sheets across his desk. "What did you have in mind?" Dad asked, taking a seat opposite from me.

Even though I knew anyone in their right mind would consider my idea as beyond creative, my heart hammered harder. "You never really told me why you want this. Why is it so important to you?"

"If you really want to know—" he averted my gaze, gathering his thoughts "—I want your mother to come back."

I stared at him, unsure whether I'd heard him right. "Mum hasn't set foot here in thirteen years."

He nodded. "About time she did."

"Why would you even want that? The last time you met for lunch the earth shook and swallowed up half of a continent."

"That was one little earthquake, Cass."

I snorted. "Little? Smashed buildings and cracked roads stretched for hundreds of miles. It rated a 8.9-magnitude on the Richter scale. It was a miracle no one was killed."

He heaved a sigh. "I lost control. I'm sorry."

"Maybe you're sorry, but my point is, you two don't even get along."

"That's not true, Cass." He smirked. "Her heart ached from the suffering down here, and her teasing friends weren't helping. She was slowly dying inside. You don't know what it's like for a seraph to see her burning core slowly fading. If I could prove this place isn't as awful as everyone makes it out to be, she might give it another chance."

"I know what it's like Dad. You forget I'm half seraph." I set my jaw, fighting against the anger rising inside me. The truth was Mum left us because she couldn't deal with the reproach coming from the other seraphim who couldn't accept Mum's love affair with Dad. Their disapproval might've stopped one day if she chose to hold on for a little longer.

Dad walked around the desk and wrapped his arm around me, pulling me closer. I pressed my face against his chest and breathed in his aftershave, wondering why he'd still hang on to someone who left him so many years ago.

"Don't be angry," Dad whispered. "Not everyone's the same. Your mother will never be as strong as you are."

"Is that why she chose you?"

"It wasn't a choice."

I watched him return to his seat, pondering his cryptic reply. His expression was guarded again. He cleared his throat. "The campaign—"

"Right." I started flicking through my notes, suddenly insecure. "I hope you like it."

"I'm sure I will," Dad said.

"Judging from my research, mortals seem to have a distorted view of what Hell's really about. They seem to think all we do is coax innocents into giving up their souls so we can torture them forever.

That's not what Hell's about. We're just as honourable and important as Heaven. Innocents have nothing to fear." I paused to make sure I hadn't lost Dad's attention yet. He nodded encouragingly, so I continued, "As you know, we can't invite people over to see for themselves how important this place is, but there are other means to reach them."

I stood, my voice no longer shaking. "We'll talk to people right where they're most open and willing to listen: in the comfort of their homes."

"How could we possibly do that?" Dad asked.

"I’m thinking about hosting a reality show." Smiling, I held out a sheet of paper with countless bullet points. He started reading as I continued. "We have so many souls down here; people who regret their transgressions; people who would love to get a brief moment with a loved one in order to communicate a last message or say goodbye."

Dad shook his head lightly. "Cass, most of our
visitors
aren't nice people."

"You're talking about the lower planes. We'd never even consider them. But what about Distros?" I squeezed his hand to make sure he was listening. "There's this girl, Theo. I know she isn't a bad person just because she hurt someone who wanted to harm her. It was self defence."

"How do you know her?" Dad's gaze narrowed.

I waved my hand. "It's not important. Let's just say what matters here is that she doesn't hate this place. She understands why it's necessary to be here, and she wants a last chance to talk to her sister and warn her. If you only got to know her, I'm sure she'd even consider saying something nice about you."

He shook his head again.

"Dad," I drew a deep breath, "isn't it what you wanted? That people start saying nice things about you? This is your chance. Grab it!"

"No, Cass." Dad's frown told me he was about to play stubborn again. "I won't let you go on national TV and shout out into the world who you are. What will Dallas say?"

His words caught me off guard. I never thought of that. I peered at the purple tulips in the vase on Dad's desk, taking in the perfect shape of their petals, as I tried to imagine Dallas's reaction. He wouldn't be pleased. He might even be mortified, embarrassed to be seen with me. I couldn't have that, and yet I saw this campaign as something other than a means to raise Dad's popularity. I could ease people's suffering so they may find closure, both the deceased and the living. Basically, this might just be my new purpose in life.