Unholy Hell, is that my stomach? Am I hungry? As I lift my arm to rub my stomach, I catch a whiff of myself and groan. Brimstone’s got nothing on the way I smell right now. That’s some serious stink. Not likely to impress Frannie’s parents. Being human is turning out to be extremely inconvenient-and a little gross.
Before dusk, once I’ve confirmed that Gabriel is here, I take off and swing by the McDonald’s drive-thru on my way back to my apartment for a shower. Turns out Big Macs aren’t all that bad. Who knew?
It also turns out that there are more downsides to being human than I’d hoped. The list of stuff I’m going to need, just in the personal hygiene department, is staggering. I’m thinking about everything I need to take care of before my magic’s completely gone-lots of big bank accounts and investments, lots of alternative identities for both Frannie and me in case we need to run, maybe an academic scholarship to UCLA-when I step through the door to my apartment and the pungent smell of brimstone hits me like a baseball bat to the face. I feel my face involuntarily pinch against the stench. So, okay, maybe I really don’t smell that bad after all. How did I ever think the smell of brimstone was pleasant?
I look up through watering eyes at Beherit-my boss. Even though I can’t sense the presence of demon or deity anymore, I should have expected this. He’s here in all his Hellish glory: steaming, leathery, black-flecked crimson skin; short, twisted black horns that nearly scrape the ceiling; and his tail wrapped around his pelted satyr’s waist. Though he’ll never admit which sin he’s born of, the fact that he’s always draped in a short red robe and wearing his golden crown makes it obvious. He belongs to pride. His back is to me, admiring the Dore print near the kitchen. I think about backing out and closing the door-I was never here-but a twitch of his pointed ear lets me know it’s too late for that.
I step through the door and close it behind me. “Is this a social call, Beherit, or is there something you need?”
He turns slowly, his hoof scraping across the linoleum, leaving a smoldering black gash through the daises there. There’s no humor in his flaming red eyes, and his fangs flash as a grimace contorts his flat, pinched face.
His voice is a low raspish hiss as he says, “What I needed was for you to do your job, Lucifer. Do it without stabbing me in the back. Did you really think you were worthy of my position? Well, now we all know better, don’t we? You’ve demonstrated your ineptitude quite spectacularly, especially to King Lucifer.”
The smell of dog breath and rotting meat permeates the brimstone. I smell it before I hear the snarls. Hellhounds. Perfect.
“This apartment complex doesn’t allow pets, Beherit. I’m sorry, but you’ll have to take your pooch. ” I look toward the bathroom door as three immense black dogs, one with three heads and all with the glowing red eyes that demark all infernal creatures, come slinking out, “oh. excuse me, pooches, and leave.”
“A shame. I thought you’d enjoy the company. You’ve been here for so long I figured you may be feeling a bit homesick.”
“No. I’m really doing just fine, thanks.”
In a smoking red flash he’s across the room, and I’m choking as his burning fist clamps around my throat, nearly lifting me off the ground. And for the first time, I realize I truly am human, because my lungs are screaming for air as he holds me here, suspended and oxygen deprived.
“You’re doing far from fine!” he rages and throws me across the room. I thud hard into the wall, face-first, and drop to the floor at the paws of the hounds, struggling to catch my breath. Turning human is really working to my disadvantage at the moment, and the blood trickling down my forehead and into my eye is definitely not going to help with the hound situation.
I sit up, brushing the back of my arm casually across my forehead, ignoring the throb in my head and the growl of the hounds. “Was that really necessary?”
Beherit’s red eyes flare, and his face stretches into a heinous grin. “Blood? Oh, this is getting better by the minute,” he says, stepping over and drawing a talon quickly across my chest, slicing through my T-shirt and the flesh under it like warm butter. As more blood seeps from the wound on my chest, he raises his head, sniffs the air, and scrunches his face. “I knew you didn’t smell right. Thought I might be coming down with a cold.” His bloody eyes shoot to the hounds. “This will save me having to drag you back to the Fiery Pit. So much easier than Belias and Avaira.” He shakes his head slowly, a forlorn frown on his leathery lips. “Three of my best-what a waste. ” Then his eyes flash. “Though, that’s what happens to traitors. King Lucifer will see the error in his judgment when it’s
Belias and Avaira, thrown into the Fiery Pit. I should be ecstatic, but instead my stomach turns. No second chances in the Underworld.
He sighs and his frown pulls into a grin. “They say if you want a job done right you have to do it yourself. But I don’t understand, Lucifer. This should have been an easy one. She’s such a tiny, helpless thing.”
Frannie’s face, so kissable, floats in front of my eyes. Tiny, yes-but far from helpless.
He looks to the hounds. “Cerberus, Barghest, Gwyllgi, I’ll leave you to your job. I have mine,” his eyes shift to me, “or, more accurately,
I swallow back my fear with the lump in my throat. “Really, I don’t think we’re going to be able to pull off the twins thing, Beherit. After all, we’re trying to be inconspicuous. Twins draw too much attention,” I say, pulling myself off the floor.
I watch as my face snarls back at me. “No worries. There won’t be two of us for long,” he says, and my face grins at me. He snaps his fingers, and the hounds are on me as he walks out the door.
What I wouldn’t give for a box of Milk-Bones right now.
Frannie
When the lightning hits my brain, it shocks me awake. I roll to the side and dry heave into the trash can next to my bed as the image of Luc, laying in a heap on the floor and covered in blood, floats behind my eyelids.
“
The next thing I know, my mom is at the side of the bed, panicked. “Frannie, are you sick? What’s wrong?”
Through my stupor, “No. ” is all I can say. over and over. It’s like every brain cell has short-circuited. I can’t function-or think.
She starts to lift me to sitting. “Come on, honey. We’re going to the doctor.”
I find my voice. “No! I need Luc.” My heart is beating impossibly fast, and I’m inching toward hyperventilation as stars dance in front of my eyes. “I need to find him.”
And just then, there’s a honk from the driveway. I spring from the bed and fly to the window. Luc is parked there in the Shelby. He smiles up at me and sticks his arm out the window, waving me down.
“Oh God!” I feel my blood start to flow again. He’s not dead. “I have to go, Mom,” I say, tugging my jeans on under my baggy T-shirt and running for the door on shaky legs.
“Frannie! What’s this about?” she says as she chases me down the stairs.
“Nothing. Just give me a minute.” I step through the door and slam it behind me. I run to his car and jump in, throwing myself around him.
“I’m happy to see you too,” he says, a wicked gleam in his eye.
I pull back and look at him. He’s alive-for now. “Something’s going to happen. I saw you. ”
“What, Frannie? What did you see?” He doesn’t look frightened or concerned. If he looks anything, it would be eager-hungry.
“There was blood. you were. ”
“Dead?” he finishes for me with a grin.
I just nod.
“Do I look dead, Frannie?”
“Not now. But it’s going to happen.”
“What? What’s going to happen?”
“I don’t know. maybe Belias. ”
He interrupts me, shaking his head. “I’ve taken care of Belias. No need to worry about him anymore.”
“What do you mean? Is he gone?”
