Beelzebub Girl (20 page)

I smiled at the naïve, little angel sitting on my shoulder. One day I'd be running this place, making my own rules. I might as well start now.

Aunt Patricia lived in a picturesque village situated in the snow covered Swiss Alps. I wished I could just beam ourselves up there instead of freezing in the gondola riding up at the speed of a snail.

Dallas's arms were wrapped around my waist, pulling me against him, making my body tingle at being so close to him. He leaned forward and brushed my cheek, his breath building mist clouds as he spoke. "I'm so glad we get to do this together. It's so romantic."

"Me too, babe." I rolled my eyes, thankful he couldn't see me since my back was pressed against his chest. Who in their right mind would find running around in the cold with a red, runny nose and purple fingers romantic? Why couldn't Patricia inherit a cocktail bar in Hawaii, or a five-star luxury hotel in the Caribbean instead of a bakery in a place that wasn't even on
Google Maps
? The only thing I wanted to do with him in this cold was snuggling together under the covers and feeding each other chocolate. We hadn't had a private moment ever since arriving in Hell. But with Dad around, I wasn't even sure I wanted one.

Sighing, I turned to face Dallas. "Patricia's a nice girl, but she's a little strange."

"In what way?"

I stared at the golden speckles in his eyes. He glanced at me attentively, as though he truly listened, and brushed a stray lock out of my eyes. Something, like electromagnetic waves, pulsated between us. "Well." I moistened my lips. "She doesn't leave the house very often."

"So she isn't into socialising." Dallas shrugged. "Big deal. Not everyone's a party animal."

I could live with his explanation, except that it was time to stop creating more secrets between us. He'd have to know the truth eventually, so I might as well start tossing little morsels his way. "It's not just that."

He leaned into me and kissed my lips gently. "Don't worry, babe.

We all have one or two eccentric family members. I won't judge."

How could I possibly explain I had a whole bunch of them?

Patricia was the least of my worries. I couldn't wait until he met Aunt Krista.

"Just remember that when you meet the rest of my family," I muttered.

The sun hid behind heavy, grey clouds. The gondola finally came to a halt and we stepped out, sinking into a thick blanket of snow that reached up to my hip. We were surrounded by white. Even the whitewashed walls blended in with the snow-covered mountains in the distance.

Groaning, I trudged forward, my arms shovelling the snow aside, as we moved forward to reach the tiny village stretching against the darkening sky. It'd be easier if I just melted my way through, but that'd probably freak Dallas out big time, so I had no choice than to keep torturing my aching muscles until we reached what looked like a paved street. I thought fighting our way through the snow was the worst that could happen, until I slipped on the thick ice, almost landing on my butt.

"What a great workout, huh?" Dallas laughed. How could he be so high-spirited when I was getting grumpier by the minute?

"I'm loving every minute of it," I mumbled.

How can Patricia stand this teeth-clattering, brain-numbing
cold?
Kinky said, shivering in his black robe. Staring up at the impenetrable structure with four towers and all natural stone, reminding me of a miniature of a medieval church or castle, I wondered about the same thing. Let's just say I was thankful she inherited the darn place and not I. If I were bound to this part of the world I doubted I'd ever leave the warmth of my bed, let alone prepare hot buns for hungry folks at five o'clock in the morning.

"Is that it?" Dallas pointed at a high chimney with white fumes snaking in the wind.

I nodded and quickened my pace, eager to slip my numb feet into a pair of fluffy slippers, preferably the ones you can warm up in a microwave oven. The slippery path led us right to Patricia's red painted front door. The windowpanes hung open. White curtains with tiny red hearts peeked from behind. A large wooden pane above the door advertised 'Magic Cupcakes'. I hoped they were magic indeed because I was starving.

I grabbed the brass knock shaped in the form of a doughnut and knocked as Dallas rubbed his gloved hands, probably looking forward to a mug of hot chocolate just as much as I was.

"Coming," Patricia called from inside a moment before the door burst open and she stood in the doorway, clad in a long medieval dress with a golden cord wrapped around her chubby waist. The dark green colour complemented her red hair and emerald eyes.

"Looks like the house isn't the only thing trapped in the Middle Ages." I smiled and stepped in.

Patricia wrapped her arms around me, pulling me into a tight hug. "I've missed you, Grumpy."

"Patty, this is my fiancé, Dallas." I pointed behind me. For a moment, Patricia stood frozen to the spot, eyes wide. The milky skin on her smooth forehead creased into a thin line.

"Nice to meet you," Dallas said, holding out his hand.

"So that's why you're here. For a moment I was inclined to believe you'd brace the snow outside to see
me.
" Cupping his hand, she turned to face me. A wide grin replaced her frown. "You need our blessing."

I rolled my eyes, playfully. "Don't be ridiculous. Obviously, I'm old enough to do what I want. So Dad told you."

She shook her head. "Nope. He said revealing the big secret would take away the surprise factor, and where's the fun in that?"

I bet he was watching us through his third eye or phone or whatever he used to spy on others nowadays, laughing his head off.

Once my mission was over he'd see I was capable of as much manipulation as he. Maybe even more so since I was about to trick my own family who was probably expecting it already.

"You look so much alike, it's uncanny," Dallas said.

"We did before I inherited this place." Patricia pointed at her round hips and growing bust. "You're probably wondering whether I fell into a bag of chocolate croissants and had to eat my way out."

"I couldn't blame your comfort eating. You're probably just stressed. What with all the baking." I shivered at the thought of all the washing up at the crack of dawn.

"It's not just the baking." She rolled her eyes. "It gets kind of lonely in here with Prince Rasputin as my only company."

"Who’s Prince Rasputin?" Dallas whispered.

Grinning, I pointed at the black Persian cat behind Patricia. He was lying on the rug in front of the hearth, tummy up, legs and arms spread to the side.

Dallas nodded and returned my smile.

"You look great," I said. "I'd kill for your curves."

She winked. "No need to do something that drastic. I'll just bake you a mean batch of chocolate truffle cupcakes. Come on in. Your luggage's just—"

"Arrived with the courier service. They're fast, aren't they?" I shot her a meaningful glance, lest she give away one of Dad's demons brought over our travel bags.

"Yep." She smiled. "And they're so cheap. A real bargain."

I motioned Dallas to take off his jacket, then closed the door behind him.

"This is nice," he said, peering around.

"I guess, if one's into bricks and medieval towers," Patricia said.

"Actually, it's not that bad, or so I thought until I realised I can't ever leave."

"There's no one else to feed the village," I explained to Dallas.

He nodded sympathetically.

"Surely, people can cook for themselves at home," Dallas said.

I inclined my head. "You'd be surprised."

"Please, have a seat. I'll get you something to eat." Patricia pointed at a velvet sofa in the colour of rusty leaves, then disappeared into the adjoining kitchen. I peered at the thick carpets covering most of the wall and the heavy, dark furniture. This stuff must be worth a fortune on
eBay
.

"I'll be right back," I said before hurrying after Patty. I found her leaning over a kitchen counter, arranging warm muffins on a silver tray. The aroma of cinnamon and cardamom invaded my nostrils. My stomach made an unladylike sound.

"He's mortal, isn't he?" Patricia asked. "I can smell his scent from a mile away."

I nodded. "He's also the one."

"How do you know?" She didn't look up, but her voice dripped with doubt.

"I can feel it."

"It's that easy to recognise the bond then?" She walked over to the stone ovens stretching from the floor almost to the ceiling and peered inside at the leaping flames mumbling, "Almost ready."

Following her line of vision, I noticed large baking trays with cupcakes, cookies and what else not peering from between the flames. "When did you learn to do all of this? Last time I remember you didn't even know how to boil an egg."

She smiled. "Honestly, most of the time I've no idea what I'm doing." She pointed at the large, leather bound book covering half of a counter. "I just toss all ingredients a bowl, pour the dough into a tray and slip it into the oven. After half an hour, I take it out and everything tastes marvellous. This is my new caramel covered hot bun with raisins. Try it." She tossed a large brown thing with white sprinkling my way. I took a tentative bite. It was surprisingly good, and then the slightest aroma of chilli tickled my taste buds.

"Are there chocolate chips in here?" I asked.

She nodded, amused. "With a soft chilli cranberry filling. Don't ask me how I did it."

I took another bite, bobbing my head appreciatively, then put the muffin aside. "Are you happy?"

For a brief second, I saw sadness in her eyes. "As happy as one can be."

"Have you ever tried running?"

"Once." She shook her head. "And never again, that's for sure."

"What happened?"

Patty moistened her lips, her gaze a million miles away. "I was fed up with this place so I packed a suitcase and walked out the door with Prince Rasputin in a kitty-cat carrier. When I entered town something strange happened."

My eyes widened. "What?"

"People glared and their voices throttled into deep, menacing growls, like they were possessed or something. A woman lurched at me with a butcher knife. Some guy tried to take down Prince Rasputin and me with a hammer. I was scared to death."

Inching forward, I squeezed her hand sympathetically. "Patty, that's horrible."

She nodded. "Yeah, you could say that. The entire town was after me!"

"But you're immortal. How can a human kill you?" I asked.

"Like you, I’m not eighteen yet. Without any powers, any mortal can behead me."

That was one wicked curse. "How did you escape?"

"I knew what I had to do. Come back here to
my sanctuary,
my prison. I jumped in my car when people piled on my hood and banged on my windows. It was like
Night of the Living Dead
up-close and personal. I barely escaped with my life." She swallowed. "If I or Prince Rasputin take one step out that door, any human outside becomes possessed and wants to kill us."

I grabbed her hand, forcing her to look at me as I whispered, "I'll break this curse. I swear I'll find your destined love for you, but for that you'll have to give me your blessing."

"I'll give you my blessing anyway, Cass. You know that. Just promise you'll stay a bit longer. I've had enough of talking to a cat all day."

"Prince Rasputin's a demon."

She smirked. "A cat's more talkative." One of the ovens beeped.

Clearing her throat, she walked over and opened the door. The flames retreated, revealing a thin layer of grey ash and four perfectly round tiers in various sizes.

"A wedding cake? I'm impressed."

"People from all over the world have been ordering here for centuries. I'm working my butt off fourteen hours a day, seven days a week. And for what?" A dangerous glint shimmered in her eyes. "So the last spark of hope in me doesn't die like a burned out candle."

"You should've told me. I could've helped," I said, softly.

She shook her head. "No. This is my battle to fight. You'll get to fight yours soon enough."

Not if I managed to avoid it. We returned with the tray, plates and hot chocolate to the living room. Patricia and Dallas engaged in small talk about the world outside as I tuned out with Dallas's fingers tracing circles in my palm. The cakes were even better than I anticipated. No wonder Patricia was so busy, which gave me an idea.

I pulled out a scroll and started scribbling my terms because in our family, nothing's fixed unless it's written down, preferably with one's signature chiselled in stone.

"So, I sort of stalked her, and the next day we moved in together." Dallas shot me a smile.

"I would've been freaked out," Patricia said. "Actually, anyone else would've been. She must've seen something special in you."

"You bet I did." I pushed the scroll and a pen toward her. "I know you agreed already, but I'd rather have it in writing if you don't mind."

She started to read, bobbing her head as she moved from one point to the next. "A TV show? I'd rather not, Cass. I'm busy already without the extra advertising."

I leaned back, regarding her coolly. "If you want to find him, you'd better get your picture out there."

"Find who?" Dallas asked. Patricia put the scroll aside and took another bite of her muffin.

I peered at her, amused. "Someone who'd better hurry come knocking on her door before she turns into a chocolate cupcake herself."

"That's mean." Grinning, she dropped the muffing onto her plate. "I see your point. You'll have my written agreement by tomorrow."

I'd rather have it tonight, but rushing anyone in my family would get me nowhere, so I shrugged. "Sure. Take your time." Obviously, I didn't mean that part.

Outside, a full moon rose against the canvass of a starry night.

We spent another hour chatting, then retreated to the privacy of our bedrooms with their flowery wallpapers and comfortable bedding. We didn't get to share a room, which was probably Dad's doing, but that didn't stop us from engaging in some serious smooching before we said goodnight. I went to bed lightheaded, my skin still tingling from Dallas's soft kisses.