Authors: Alycia Linwood
"I need you to stop putting fake memories in Italia Marlowe's mind," I said, hoping he knew who I was talking about. "I won't tell her anything, but I don't want you inside of her head."
"Why?" He didn't look happy about it. I wasn't sure could he read minds or just parts that included him. If I asked him, he probably wouldn't tell me the truth.
"She's my best friend." The look on Devin's face told me he had no clue what I was talking about.
"You're in love with her?" he finally said, and I stared at him in disbelief, gaping like a fish.
"No! It's not like that!" I was blushing. Ah, lovely. Devin cocked his head and eyed me carefully, rubbing his wrist under his black sweater.
"I care a lot about her, but it's a different kind of love." I was fumbling with words, unsure how I was supposed to explain it. "Don't you have friends?"
"I..." He seemed to consider it. "Maybe."
"Oh. Well, you don't have to mess with anyone's mind anymore, right?" I said hopefully. He just gave me a plain look that told me nothing. I sighed. Talking to a demon was even harder than talking to an angel. A smile tugged at the corners of my lips as I thought how ridiculous it was that I could actually make a comparison of creatures I hadn't believed existed.
"You can tell your
friend
whatever you want, but any mention of me or what I am will be gone from her mind." He pressed his finger to his temple and closed his eyes like he was trying to fight off a bad migraine.
"Ok, but tell me why we are here." I went to get myself a chair and placed it closer to Devin. He reached for something in his pocket and threw it on the desk. A black cell phone bounced off the smooth wooden surface and nearly ended up in my lap.
"Hey, you can't throw things like that. You're going to break it," I said, placing the cell phone back on the desk.
"Show me how to use it." He leaned forward, his cerulean eyes boring into mine. I averted my look and took the cell phone, touching the screen lightly to get to the menu. My eyes widened in surprise when I saw a cute little white puppy as the background picture. Either Devin had a soft side I knew nothing about or the cell phone wasn't his.
"It's not yours, is it?" My fingers slid away from the cell phone. There was no way I was going to touch something stolen again. The last thing I needed was for someone to report the cell phone missing and then me be the one to get blamed for the theft.
"Some girl
lent
it to me." He smiled and pushed the cell phone towards me with his long fingers. Lent? Yeah, right. Maybe I should be happy that he didn't want to take mine. I sighed and started explaining the basics to him, thinking how funny it would be to actually receive a call from Hell. Cell phone service providers would have a lot of trouble figuring out how to charge that one, or they'd simply slap the highest price possible.
"Give me your number," he said after I had explained in detail how to add contacts to the phonebook.
"No way." I stood up, gripping the chair tightly in my hand, ready to lift it up and swing it at him. I didn't know of what help would that be, but I was willing to risk it. He just looked up at me, smiling, and his eyes went black.
"Do you have a death wish? You know I can make everyone forget you ever existed," he said, getting up and walking over to me. I did my best not to flinch when he reached for a lock of my hair.
"If you kill me," I said, "whoever sent you here will find out about it and about me. How are you going to explain you lied to them?" That was pure speculation based on what he'd said earlier about risking his life to keep my ability to see demons hidden from the others. I knew nothing about the demon world, but it seemed like he had superiors he had to answer to in Hell. Was I of any value to them? It was hard to tell.
"Maybe I should simply contact them and tell them everything. Let them take you to Hell and torture you." He trailed a finger gently down my face. I swallowed. Now was a perfect time for a vision or memory stealing, so I squeezed his arm as hard as I could. My mind didn't get caught up in some dreamlike story, but Devin hissed in pain, pulling away from me. Did I really have a grip that strong?
"Don't touch me," he sneered. His eyes were sky blue again and there was something in them that I couldn't quite identify. Hurt? Sadness? No, there was absolutely no way for me to tell for sure.
"Funny, I was just about to say the same," I said, feeling brave. If all demons were so easily hurt, then I didn't have to worry. Somehow I doubted it was like that. Had getting from Hell to here and excessive use of magic weaken him? If so, then I might be able to do something.
"Just give me your number, or I'll have to find a different way to contact you. I'm sure you won't like it." He ran a hand through his black hair, trying to get a few unruly strands out of his eyes. Could he pop up out of nowhere during a family lunch or interrupt my sleep? Nope, I didn't want to find out.
"Ok, I'll give you my number." I let the tone of my voice show him how unhappy and reluctant I was about doing it. He nearly dropped the device twice but managed to get my number into his phonebook; I actually checked. I thought about warning him to delete my number if he returned the cell phone, but decided against it. The poor owner of the cell wasn't going to see her baby ever again.
A soft click of the door told me I was free to go, so I took my backpack and got out of the classroom before Devin changed his mind. I had a good plan how to solve the demon problem, but I needed to act fast.
I knocked once on the door of my sister's room, waiting for her to yell it was ok for me to come inside. She'd just gotten home from school, and I didn't want to barge in while she was changing. Silence was the only thing I got in response. I knocked again, much harder this time. No response. I opened the door, feeling my throat tighten and my pulse speed up.
Christina was sitting on the bed, her back turned to me. Her long brown hair was neatly lifted up in a ponytail, fastened with a beautiful velvet ribbon.
"Hey," I said softly and walked over to her. There were tears in her green eyes as she looked up at me.
"What is wrong with me?" She hiccuped, lifting her left hand towards me and opening her empty palm. I had absolutely no idea what she was talking about or trying to show me. Then I saw a pair of scissors lying on the bed next to her, still glistening with blood. Oh my God, it was her blood! I panicked, taking her hands and inspecting her for wounds. But there was nothing, not even a tear in her pink sweater or in her blue jeans.
"What happened?" I inquired. "Are you ok?"
She nodded, wiping away her tears with her sleeve. Then she threw herself into my arms, and I just held her tightly, unsure what to think.
"Christina, hey," I whispered into her ear, caressing her soft hair that smelled like lilies, "it's ok. Everything will be fine. I promise."
"I cut myself," she choked out. "I know I did. But it's gone. The cut is gone, Ariel! How can it be?"
"It doesn't matter. You're ok, and that's the only thing that counts." I slowly moved away from her so we could sit down on the bed and talk. She calmed a bit and I picked up the scissors, inspecting them carefully. I ran my finger lightly across the clean sharp edge and felt a sting of pain. Blood instantly welled up and Christina offered me a Kleenex she had gotten out of her drawer. She started cleaning the scissors as I took care of my cut. Bleeding stopped soon enough, but the cut was still there. Ok, so the scissors didn't have any magic on them.
"I wanted to make that dress shorter," Christina suddenly said, pointing at the dark green heap pooled on the floor in the corner. I hadn't even noticed it was there.
"But that material is hard to cut, and somehow my finger got in the way," she continued, sniffling a few times. "It was a deep cut. At least it looked like a deep cut." Her voice hitched up, shock evident on her beautiful face. "There was so much blood, and then the cut closed in front of my eyes! Ariel, you've got to believe me! It was... it was... I don't know."
"I believe you," I said, lifting the dress off the floor. The part Christina had managed to cut was dangling awkwardly from the rest of the dress, stained with blood. It was a pretty uneven cut, and I wondered why my sister would even try to do this all by herself. Then again, mom would have probably objected to making the dress even shorter than it already was. But this wasn't the time to wonder what for Christina needed a dress short enough to make sitting down uncomfortable.
"You do?" She threw the used Kleenex in the trash can and looked at me, surprise written all over her face. Then her surprise turned into suspicion.
"Yeah, I do," I said, neatly folding the dress and placing it on Christina's nightstand, determined to take it later with me and try to fix the damage. I couldn't exactly give it to our mother because there would be too many questions, and I certainly wasn't going to let Christina to fumble with it any more.
"Is your..." She came over to me, taking my hand and looking disappointed when she saw the reddish line on my finger. "You see? You can't understand." She let go of my hand and turned around on her heels, going towards her dresser. I wondered how to break the 'happy' news to her. She stood in front of the mirror, pulling the ribbon out of her hair, which fell in unruly waves down her back. It was weird how she managed to keep her hair so neat when it was tied.
"You're an angel," I said as she tried to straighten her hair with a brush. A smile appeared on her pink lips, and she looked at me in the mirror.
"Thanks," she said. "I suppose that's a compliment."
"No, I don't mean that you look like an angel," I said, bracing myself for her reaction. "You really might be an angel."
"Where did you get that insane idea?" She turned around to look at me directly, a scowl on her face.
"There's something you need to know... about me and..." I started retelling her everything that had happened to me, leaving out most of the details. I couldn't tell her anything about Devin because he might find out about it and try to change my sister's memories. That way he might also be able to tell what she was, and I couldn't let that happen. I left out the part about the demons looking for her because any mention of demons might trigger something and alert Devin.
Christina listened patiently to everything I had to say, but I could see the skepticism in her bright eyes. That was understandable, considering what I was saying to her was something that only existed on TV and in stories.
"So, what you are trying to say is that I'm not your sister," she said, clearly hurt. I sighed.
"How do you explain the cut then?"
She frowned. "I don't know."
"Exactly," I said, taking her warm hand into mine. Even in the middle of the summer, my skin was never as warm as hers to the touch. I didn't think that had anything to do with the supernatural, only with my bad circulation. Should I touch Amadeo to check? It would be a good excuse.
"Why are you grinning?" Christina asked, and I looked at her in surprise. Grinning? Who? Me? Nah, impossible.
"Nothing," I said, trying to change the topic. "But I want you to know that you are my sister no matter what. I don't care if the angels put you here. I'm glad they did."
I hadn't told her that the angels might have done something with the real child. Maybe angels could do it without having to replace anyone; they were angels after all.
"So you are having these visions and you think you need to protect me?" she said thoughtfully. "But I'm not in danger, am I?"
"No, not at all," I lied. "And didn't I just save you from thinking there was something wrong with you?"
"Yeah, I guess," she said, and I could tell she still didn't believe me completely. I got up and pulled her with me towards the mirror.
"You should be able to change your eye color to violet," I said, even though I was sure that took more than just a simple color change.
"I don't think I can do that." She bit down on her lip nervously. "And what if I can't switch it back later? I can't just tell mom and dad I got contacts in color."
"Amadeo could help in that case. He can do it without a problem." The only reason I had mentioned Amadeo to her was that she needed someone like her so she wouldn't feel like a freak.
"Then I should go talk to him!" she said excitedly.
"Maybe, but not yet. You shouldn't tell anyone about this." I locked my gaze with hers. "Promise me."
"Do you know something that I don't?" She raised an eyebrow at me.
"Didn't you watch any of those angel TV shows? There's always someone who wants to harm you, and you don't even know it!"
"But that's not real!" she complained. "Besides, I don't have wings or some freaky eyes!"
"So you don't believe me?"
"Yeah, I do," she said, "but you've got to admit it's a bit weird. And you're asking me not to talk to the only person who is supposed to be the same thing as I am."
"Ok, you can talk to Amadeo," I said, defeated. "But don't let him make you believe every word he says."
"You don't trust anyone, do you?" She laughed.
"Well, if you are so trusting, then trust me on this."
"Fine." She seemed to agree with that, but I could see it on her face that ideas were going through her head. I could only hope that it wasn't anything dangerous. I went to the nightstand to take Christina's ruined dress.
"Just be careful, please," I said as I made my way towards the door. Christina simply nodded and focused her attention back on the mirror, probably trying to see some unusual angelic feature on her face.
I practically ran down the stairs and found my mom sitting on the couch and watching some lame TV show in the living room. Her green eyes regarded me suspiciously as I stopped in front of her, blocking her view of the TV.
"Mom, I need to talk to you." My voice sounded a bit shaky and nervous.