Personal Demons 2 - Original Sin (8 page)

“I was about to ask you the same question.”

In a nanosecond, his fist is crackling in my face again. “Don't play games with me, cherub.”

I roll my eyes. “We could do this all day,” I say, pushing his fist out of my face, “or we can figure out how to help each other.”

He's silent for a long second, then says, “First tell me if you did it.”

“Did what?”

“Turned him and tagged him.”

I snort out a laugh. “I'm assuming you mean the demon.”

“Lucifer,” he confirms.

“First of all, the fact that he's tagged for Heaven is making me want to hurl—if I had a stomach, that is. And second, I don't have the power to turn a demon mortal.”

“Then who does?”

This is tricky. I have a feeling Frannie might be in danger if I tell him the truth, but I can't lie. Even to a demon. “Why do you care? What's it to you that the demon is mortal now?”

His eyes narrow as he sizes me up. “I have orders. I'm supposed to bring him back.”

“For trial?” I can't hide the hope in my voice.

He continues to glare at me, but doesn't answer.

I shift in my seat and cross my ankle over my knee. “I think we may be on the same side, strangely enough.”

“Meaning…?”

“Meaning, it wouldn't break my heart if the demon disappeared.”

A malefic smile curls his lips, turning his face into something significantly more demonic. I've captured his interest.

“He's a demon. Just as stupid as any other demon,” I say, gesturing at the moronic pair of bookends.

He growls at me and his eyes flare red, but he doesn't move.

“So, how hard can it be to get him to sin? Reverse his tag?” I continue.

The big demon leans against the seat. “I'm listening.”

“You need him in demon form to bring him back for trial, right?”

“That'd be preferred.” Rhenorian's face pulls into a predatory leer, like a cat eyeing a mouse. “But dragging his mortal soul back to Hell is a close second.”

“Fine. So if he could be convinced—” I stop abruptly when I realize I almost gave Frannie's secret away. “I think I know a way to turn him demon again.”

Rhenorian's eyes flash red. “How?”

“I'll take care of it. You just be ready. When it's time, you'll need to be quick, before she—” I stop again. “Just be ready. It'll be obvious.”

His hand darts out and grabs a fistful of my T-shirt. “I need more than that, cherub. Details.”

The Tweedle brother sitting next to me in the backseat tries to grab my arm, and I zap him with a crackle of white lightning. Just enough to back him off.

“No,” I say plainly, leaning forward and getting into Rhenorian's face to show him I'm not intimidated.

He cracks a grin, watching Tweedledumb smolder, and when Tweedledumber turns to retaliate with a raised red fist, Rhenorian drops my T-shirt and punches him across the jaw. He turns back to me and grimaces. “So, I'm just supposed to trust you? How stupid do you think I am?”

I can't keep the smirk off my face. “Pretty much as stupid as the rest of your kind.”

His fist is hot in my face in a heartbeat. I raise my hands, my face a mask of feigned innocence. “Hey, you asked, and angels can't lie.”

His fist glows brighter for a moment; then he lowers it with a scowl.

“Just be ready,” I say, then phase back to the quarry with Frannie. All I have to do is convince Luc she's better off without him. He leaves, she gets over him, and voilà, he's either dead or a demon again. Either works for me. And if he turns demon, Rhenorian taking him to Hell will ensure that he doesn't change his mind and come back.

I watch Frannie and Taylor splash each other in the face and almost feel guilty. But the truth is, Luc will inevitably let her down. In his true essence; he's a demon. And who knows how much damage he could do in the meantime.

Better for her it never gets to that point. I'm doing the right thing.

Luc

I pull into my parking lot and cut the engine. In my rearview mirror, I watch Rhenorian pull into a parking spot in the corner of the lot. I can't see him through the tinted windows, but as the amber dusk swirls closer to black, I catch the glow of red eyes peering at me from the darkness inside the car.

He's on a mission, just as I was. Failure means dismemberment and the Fiery Pit, because I'm pretty sure no one is going to turn him mortal and tag his soul for Heaven. Which means he isn't going to quit.

I sit, watching him watch me, and wonder how this is going to go. How do I get rid of him? As long as I have this shadow, I need to stay away from Frannie. I was selfish earlier, going to the quarry. I can't put her in danger.

Lili's truck pulls up next to me just as I'm getting out of my car.

“Hey, Luc,” Lili says, holding up a flat white box. “I ordered a pizza even though I really can't afford it. I was craving pepperoni. You want to go halves?”

“Sounds good.” I hold the door to the stairs for her.

She slips under my arm, and when we get to the second floor, she turns, an embarrassed cringe on her face. “Your apartment okay? Mine's kind of a mess.”

“Sure.” I take the box from her hand and swing the door wide. I drop the pizza on the kitchen table and head to the cupboard for some plates. “What do you want to drink?”

“Whatever you're having is good.”

I slide into my chair with plates and two bottles of water.

“What do I owe you for the pie?” I ask, twisting the top off her water and handing it to her.

She tugs a wedge of pizza out of the box and breaks the trailing strings of cheese with her finger. “Ten. I figured with a large there'd be leftovers, but then I thought maybe, if you hadn't eaten, you might want…” She trails off and her eyes flick in my direction. “Some,” she finishes.

Her eyes connect with mine, and something raw rolls through me, tugging to my bones. With some effort, I break her gaze and pull a slice from the box. “Thanks.”

We eat in silence and I have to fight to keep my focus on the pizza. But despite my best effort, I catch them wandering to Lili, trying to decipher what it was I saw in that glance. Finally, I shake my head. It was nothing. Just my overactive imagination. Rhenorian has me all on edge—that's it.

Bracing myself internally, I allow my eyes to meet hers again. “So, any luck finding a job?”

She shrugs. “Working on it. There were some summer jobs on the board at the community center, but I'm kind of late looking, so most of them are already gone.”

“I'm sure something will turn up. I'll keep my ears open.” I feel my clenched muscles relax as I answer. It was definitely my imagination. There's nothing out of the ordinary—other than those eerie green eyes.

“So, you're working at the library. What about Frannie? Does she have a job?”

I flick the lid of the pizza box with my finger. “Frannie started at Ricco's right after school got out.”

She smirks at me. “Ricco's is a little seedy. You let your girlfriend work there?”

I bark out a laugh and tip my chair onto the back legs. “You don't know Frannie very well. I don't ‘let' her do anything. She's the boss.”

“Really…? You seem like a take-charge kind of guy.” An almost smile barely curves the corners of her mouth.

I tear my eyes away from hers and grab for the table just in time to keep my chair from toppling over backward. Because when she smiled, just for a second, what flashed through my mind…

I'm on my feet and across the kitchen in a heartbeat. “So you said ten for the pizza?” My hand trembles as I slide it into my pocket.

“Yeah, thanks.”

I breathe deep and turn slowly back to her. “Take the last few pieces back with you,” I say. “I already ate my half.” I venture a smile, but it feels like guilt is plastered all over my face.

She folds the pizza box closed and lifts it from the table. I head toward the door and open it, handing her the ten as she slips into the hall. She spins back and smiles as she reaches her door. “See ya.”

What the hell is wrong with me?
I thought I had these human teenage hormones figured out.

I'm still standing in the hall, staring after her, when she disappears into her apartment.

Which is why I don't notice Rhenorian until his voice comes from just over my shoulder. “My, my, Lucifer—all the pretty young things. Philandering is a sin, in case you've forgotten. All this time I've been racking my brain, trying to figure out how to reverse your tag, but you're going to make my job easy.”

I turn to find him leaning against the wall next to my door. His smile glints like the edge of a blade.

I breathe deep and clear the last vestiges of fog from my head. “You're just jealous.”

He cocks half a smile and pushes away from the wall. “I am, actually.” His smile pulls into a grimace. “But at the moment, I have bigger problems.”

In a flash, his hand shoots out and grabs the collar of my T-shirt, slamming me against the wall. “Who did it?”

I stare him down. “I don't know.”

His eyes flare red heat. He leans in, his nose an inch from mine. “Liar.”

“That's what I do. It's in my blood.” I twist out of his grasp and back into the door of my apartment. “Why does it matter to you?”

He glares a hot dagger. “Because I need them to undo it so I can bring you back.”

“So, then, it probably wouldn't be in my best interest to help you with that.”

His roar echoes down the hall as I slam the door in his face.

Frannie

The party at the quarry dies, and Riley and Trevor drop Taylor and me off at my house. We run into Maggie and Delanie on the way upstairs to my room.

“Hey, Delanie,” Taylor says, catching her elbow. “Do you have Marc's number? That guy from your band?”

She shakes her head. “Reefer might. He does all the organizing.”

Taylor plants a fist on her hip and gives Delanie a cynical smirk. “Well, can you get it?”

“Right now?” Delanie asks in a
you've got to be joking
tone.

“C'mon, Delanie.” Maggie's hand is on the doorknob and she's staring impatiently up the stairs.

Delanie skirts past Taylor. “I'll tell Ryan to call you.” She escapes out the door with Maggie.

I roll my eyes and turn to head up the stairs. “Why don't you just tackle her?”

“I would if it'd get me that damn number,” Taylor mutters. She closes the door behind her then picks up my iPod and sticks it onto the speakers. She tosses me a bottle of aloe vera from her bag and sprawls next to me on the bed.

“Put that on my back,” she says, pulling her shirt gingerly over her head and exposing glowing red skin. She lies on her stomach and unties her bikini top.

“Jesus, Tay. Did you ever hear of sunscreen?”

She glares up at me. “Are you gonna put that on my back or what?”

I squirt a big glob of it between her shoulder blades and smile when she screeches.

“Shit, that's cold!”

“Sorry,” I say, not really meaning it.

“Bitch,” she says, totally meaning it.

I rub it around her back, making a point to dig my fingers a little deeper than necessary into the reddest spots. Once I've done sufficient damage, I lean off the bed and wipe my hands on her beach towel, which is in a heap on the floor.

“So, what'd Brendan say, anyway?” I say, pulling myself back onto the bed.

“You should have heard him. Holy shit.” She sits up and tosses her shirt onto her towel. She starts to tie her bikini top, but winces and slides it off, throwing it to the floor on top of her shirt. “He's all, like, ‘Baby, I missed you so much,' and I'm thinking, Does anybody ever really buy this crap? And then he says, ‘You know I love you.' And I couldn't help it, I pushed him off the cliff.” Her eyes spark and a grin splits her face. “Did you hear him scream? Oh my god!”

I laugh with the memory. “That
was
pretty pathetic.” I grab one of Kate's
Elle
magazines and thumb through it. “Are you up for shopping on Thursday?”

“I'm always up for shopping.”

“There's a new girl in Luc's building who's gonna come with us.”

She looks at me and winces. “Are you taking in strays again, Fee? Remember what happened with Riley….”

I smile as I cut out a picture of Angelina Jolie's lips—life-sized. No, in the case of her lips, larger than life. “She doesn't know anybody. Oh—and she's going to State too.”

“Whatever.” Taylor rips the magazine clipping out of my hand and holds it up to her mouth. She gets up and inspects herself in the mirror. “Do you think my lips are too thin?”

I bite mine to keep from laughing and toss the bottle of glue onto the dresser in front of her. “Yeah. Just go ahead and glue those puppies right on.”

“Ha, ha. That's a good one.” She looks around at my walls, which are covered in magazine clippings we've pasted up over the past year. “You're running out of wall space. You sure you don't want to repaint before you leave?”

“I can't think of anything more depressing than coming home from college and having to start all over.”

“I guess. Looks like a few spots up near the ceiling still.” She points to the corner over my door.

“Yeah. That'll work.”

Her eyes catch mine as I start to pull myself off the bed.

“What was that at Gallaghers' last night? You guys just took off.”

“There was a guy that Luc knows from before—where he used to live. It's some kind of feud or something.”

Her eyes spark and a smile turns up the corners of her mouth. “Like gangs?”

“Sort of, I guess. But Luc was never really in a gang. Not like
that
, anyway.”

Her expression turns wistful, her eyes clouding over a little. “I always knew there was something dangerous about him.”

If you only knew.
“Taken, Tay.”

Her eyes clear and snap back to mine. “Yeah. You bite, you know that?”

“No. Thanks for telling me—again. I missed it the first hundred times you said it.”

“You bite.”

“Got it.”

“So, if that guy is from where Luc used to live, it must not be too far away.”

“I guess,” I say, not knowing where she's going with this, but sure it's somewhere.

“So, where is it?”

I spread glue on the back of Angelina's lips. “South.”

“Like Southie? Really? I thought everyone in South Boston was Irish. No way in hell Luc's Irish.”

“No way in hell,” I repeat. “I don't think he's from Southie.” I pull my chair over to the door and reach up to stick the lips near the ceiling.

Taylor pulls a red Sharpie out of her bag and shoves me off the chair. She climbs up and scribbles
Angelina Blomie
in big loopy letters under the lips, then turns and looks at me with a grin.

I look around at all the clippings on my walls with captions authored by either Riley or Taylor. “Why can't you ever write something that's not about sex?”

She grins at me again as she jumps down from the chair. “What else is there?”

Breaking Benjamin blasts from Taylor's bag on the floor. She pulls her phone from the front pocket and sprawls on the bed. Her eyes glint when she looks at the screen.

“Speaking of sex…,” she says with a lascivious grin. She lifts the phone to her ear. “Hey, Reef. You got a number for me?”