I shake my head. “I know what a damn scythe looks like, and that thing wasn’t a scythe. It was just a damn fancy lookin’ stick!” I argue a little hysterically.
“It changed,” Flint says with a careless shrug.
Who the hell shrugs carelessly at a time like this? A demon, that’s who.
“It changed? What the hell do you mean?”
“During your episode,” he answers smoothly. “Blades popped out and everything, just like with Delta. That’s when Alder and I knew for sure that you were like her.”
I gape at them, tryin’ to picture an image of me wieldin’ that stick as it magically turned into a scythe. “Did I hurt anybody with it? I mean, besides Mickey?”
“No,” they both answer quickly.
I hiss in a breath. “For the love of peaches, I did! Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because we figured you’d respond like this,” Alder declares, gesturin’ to me and the freak out etched in my features as it simmers in my blood. “Besides, it’s okay. The others were just imps.”
“I don’t know what imps are!” I snap.
“Imps are punished souls who did very bad things while they were alive and have to make up for it by serving,” Alder tells me calmly.
My mind chews on that. “Like murderers and rapists? That sort of thing?”
“Yes, exactly.”
“Oh. Well...alright then.”
Flint snorts. “I love how on board you are with all of this. Way better than Delta. From what Jerif said, she was a hot mess. Up top!” he says, holdin’ up a fist for me to bump.
I tap my fist at him, lip twitchin’. I shouldn’t feel smug at the expense of demon Delta, but I do. Clearly, I’m made of much sterner stuff.
“Where is your scythe, anyway?” Flints asks.
I scrunch up my face in thought. “I don’t know. Didn’t I leave it here?”
They look at me, horrified. “No, you most certainly did not leave it here,” Flint says, lookin’ at me like I’m crazy. “Please don’t tell me you lost an incredibly powerful Hell weapon,” he grumbles.
“Hey, I thought it was a damn broken fancy broom handle!” I counter. Then a lightbulb goes off. “Oh, I remember, it’s at home. It was…” I trail off, recallin’ that I woke up the next mornin’ with it in bed next to me. “It’s in my room,” I finish lamely. They don’t need to hear about me damn near cuddlin’ the thing.
“You need to keep that with you,” Flint admonishes.
I scoff. “Oh sure, I’ll just take it with me to the corner store or the next time I go to the club. I’m sure the bouncers won’t even bat an eye,” I say sarcastically.
“Peaches, you need to take this a bit more seriously—”
“I need to take this more seriously?” I demand, repeatin’ his accusation—which is never a good thing for a woman to do in a conversation. “Just exactly what would you have me do differently? Control the uncontrollable and not black out? Wake up just knowin’ what I am and how this all works? I didn’t know it was a demon Hell scythe!”
Flint goes to open his mouth again, but I barrel on. He ain’t just gonna sit there and put this on me. I can’t make informed decisions if I don’t have all the information, dammit.
“Should I have asked the nice snake-haired demon not to try and do whatever it was he was plannin’ to do to me last night? Throw in a few more pleases and thank yous and maybe he would’ve seen the error of his ways? What kind of crap is that? I need to take this more seriously,” I scoff. “You need to pull that pretty head from your marble ass, if you ask me,” I say, a tic in my jaw.
“Excuse—” Flint starts.
Alder cuts off whatever he was about to spew. “Alright, I think that’s enough for now,” he says, givin’ his friend a hard look. “Let’s take Medley home so she can get some rest and we can make sure the scythe is safe.”
Flint stares at Alder a moment and then deflates. He scrubs a hand over his face and turns to me. “Sorry,” he mumbles to me, losin’ the attitude.
“It’s fine,” I say with a sigh. I’m probably overreactin’ because I haven’t slept all night, and I keep gettin’ truth bombs tossed my way. It’s exhaustin’. “A ride home would be great,” I tell them, and then I point at Flint. “But go put on a shirt. It’s distractin’.”
He chuckles out a yes, ma’am before swaggerin’ away, and I watch his ass in those jeans as he goes before I let out a little sigh.
I’m about to be driven home by two demons when my parents think I’m at AnnaMae’s house, and I know for a fact they’ll be awake by the time we roll up.
Let’s hope Daddy doesn’t have time to grab the shotgun.
15
The ride over to the trailer park is actually nice. Flint and Alder keep up a steady stream of friendly conversation all about their lives as Guardians. I realize that part of the reason they’re doin’ it is to acclimate me to the Guardian life, but I don’t mind. In fact, I’m grateful, because like they explained earlier, this ain’t somethin’ I can run from or ignore. That’s just not realistic. So the bein’ a demon part, well, I have to face that. The Guardian part, well...one thing at a time.
I listen with rapt attention to all of their stories about how they escort demons in and out of the Hellgate. Apparently, there are only certain ones who are allowed to be here, and everyone else who breaks through does so without permission. It’s Alder and Flint’s job to make sure that doesn’t happen.
Every single story they tell is fascinatin’ to me because, well, Sweetgreen is a town with barely five thousand people in it. Talk of demons passin’ through right under our noses is
