Grandpa was still enjoying himself at my expense so it took him a moment to gather his cute little self. My jaw clenched and I pressed my hands firmly down on the kitchen table. I had the urge to grab and squeeze him, but I knew I could control it.
“Dixie, Dixie.” He sighed the way one does after a good hearty laugh. “Rules don’t apply to me.”
He giggled and squeezed himself. Holy Hell, he’d better not do that. I wasn’t sure I could curb my hugging impulses if he was going to rub my face in it by loving on himself.
“Grandpa.” I turned away from him. I was seconds away from smothering him with kisses. “Does Dad know you’re here?”
“Not exactly, but Cole and the generals do. Those bastards are everywhere.” He got serious. “Your father suspects. He wants me here, but he can’t say that since he already laid down the law. Sooo he simply turned his head and pretended he had no idea what my plans were. Furthermore.” He grinned evilly. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but it’s quite difficult to say no to me.”
“I’ve noticed.” Amusement colored my voice and I gently touched his face. “Why are you really here?”
“I miss you." It was all I could do not to tackle him and cuddle.
“Is that all?”
He tended to save the best for last.
“Um, no.” He smiled sheepishly and took another swig of milk. “You have to drink from me again. It takes two times to ensure the Black Magic has taken and I need to implant several random messages into your head.”
“Like that wasn’t random enough?” I swallowed and attempted to tamp down my gag reflex. Blood after Rice Krispie treats did not sound good to me right now. . .actually ever.
“I understand how drinking from me doesn’t appeal. Hades knows it freaks me out, but you’re too important to the world for me not to do this. Not to mention I love you more than all of your sisters put together. You have never broken one bone in my body!”
As immature as it was, I loved knowing I was his favorite. “Grandpa, it’s just that blood tastes so. . .” I shut my mouth. It filled with water and I knew I was close to hurling. I refused to vomit. If I vomited, he’d vomit and I’d still have to drink his blood. Oh, Uncle God, please help me.
“What if I put chocolate syrup in my mouth and then drink your blood? Will that screw anything up?” I asked, praying to Satan that my mouth would stop watering.
He wrung his hands and considered my suggestion. “I don’t see why not. It certainly makes me happier to know that you’re happy.”
I quickly grabbed the Hershey’s Syrup from the fridge while Grandpa slit his throat. I squirted a gob of liquid chocolate into my mouth and latched onto my beloved grandpa’s bloody neck.
It really was much better this way. The chocolate-blood mix tasted a bit rank, but it was greatly improved from the first blood suck-a-thon.
A burning heat rushed through my body, but instead of being scared this time I went with it. I held tightly to Grandpa as I started to convulse. I shook violently for about two minutes, then it subsided. The burning and churning was alarming, but doable because I knew it would end. I felt floaty and springy. The magic whooshed through me.
The sound of wind chimes bounced around inside my head and a feeling of absolute power consumed and unnerved me. I pulled back and searched my grandpa’s face. He was weaker and I was stronger.
“Am I killing you?” I gasped as I cuddled him carefully.
“No, my love.” His smile broadened with love and approval. “You are becoming stronger than me.”
“No,” I cried out. This was all wrong.
“Yes.” His mood was thoughtful. “This is the way it is meant to be. It should have been years from now before we had to do all this, but. . .” He faded off.
“But what?” I shook him gently. My life and future were spinning out of control.
“But so much is happening, you are the only one to solve it. . .end it.” His smile was sad.
I touched his neck and closed the knife wound. My body automatically knew how to do things that my brain had no idea I could.
“What else do I need to know?”
“Absolute power can corrupt absolutely. People aren’t always who you think they are and the old ones have wisdom. . .most of the time.”
“Is that all?”
“For now,” he added cryptically.
“Oookay.” I shook my head in frustration. “And what am I supposed to do until I understand all your messages and try not to get killed?”
"Oh, you know,” he said as he giggled. “Go to community college, make friends, visit your cousin Astrid, practice Black Magic, have fun. The usual.”
"Wait. Did you say community college? I've already graduated from a college that rivals most Ivy League institutions."
"You look young and that is where you need to be."
“Holy crap, you’re serious?”
“As a heart attack,” he replied, tucking my hair behind my ears. “You are so darn pretty, my little one.”
Compliments didn't help at the moment. I paced the room and my ire rose to my throat. An utter lack of control consumed me and I turned away from my grandpa's concerned gaze.
Frustration was eating me, and instead of yelling at the little man who had only come to help I slammed my hands down on the table. . .and it exploded.
"Shit," I screeched. Frantically I ran for the fire extinguisher and in my haste blew up the fridge. "Son of a bitch, help me," I begged before I took down the house.
"Breathe, Dixie," Grandpa demanded in a voice that calmed me. "Control your anger. Don't let it control you."
"I can handle this," I said with more confidence than I felt. Shithellfirebuttholes , I was going with the theory that if I said something aloud enough it would be true. Again, shithellfirebuttholes.
"You can and you will," he replied with an ancient confidence that calmed me some.
“Anger is my trigger?” I asked.
"Somewhat, but the main trigger is imbalance."
"I'm imbalanced?" I snapped. That would have been a lovely thing to have known before I'd left Hell.
"No, no dear." He chuckled. "Your Grandma Gigi is imbalanced, but she has a wonderful bosom. Imbalance in the world is your trigger."
"Could you be more specific?" I asked, ignoring the part about Mother Nature's boobs.
"Lack of balance, injustice, unfairness."
"That seems a bit do-goody for a Demon," I muttered.
"Yes, well, you can blame that on your mother."
"Ahhh, the elusive mother figure that seems to have caused some of the shitstorm up here."
"Correct. Keep your eyes open, child."
"If I didn't adore you so damned much I would incinerate you too," I muttered, hating the rules of being a Demon.
"I love you," he said.
"I love you too." I leaned in to kiss him but paused. “How will I know who the Rogue Demons and Angels are?”
“Trust me, you’ll know.”
Chapter 19
There was no way she could be that stupid. Community college was bad enough without this. We’d only been going to classes with humans for three days—how could she do this to me? I ran down the smelly hallway toward the crowd that had gathered. I was conscious of my speed. I had to hold back or explain a whole lot of stuff that no one would believe anyway. Grandpa stayed for four days and had left this morning. He made it abundantly clear to me that I needed to behave like a human. He told me to dance more. WTH? Carl was delighted and added ballroom dancing to our fight training sessions. Myrtle thought we should twerk. Holding back my speed was literally painful. Not many mortals could run so fast that they disappeared. There were simply too many things to remember.
The fluorescent lighting made the paint on the walls appear puke green. The colorful bulletin boards with lime green sorority rush notices couldn’t hide the fact that the college was over eighty years old and hadn’t been remodeled since the 1970’s.
I tried in vain to make my way through a group of the popular sorority girls sporting Uggs, t-shirts with Greek letters on them and super short minis. They had no intention of letting me by. I could disintegrate them with a single flick of my fingers, but that would be a bad thing and almost impossible to explain to my dad. None of the girls liked me because apparently all the boys did. The college was tiny and all who went here seemed to either be related or buddies since kindergarten. Very
Deliverance.
I made a huge point of not even looking at the guys once I figured out what was going on. Not only that, but the classes were far too easy for me. I was trying to dumb it down, but it was difficult when I knew I was smarter than my teachers.
The Ugg brigade gave me no choice. I shoved my way through the overly made up mean girls to see what I knew was awaiting me but prayed to Satan was not.
Damn Myrtle, she was that stupid. Of all the dumb things she could have done, she had to do this. Was this payback for the vomit party? I’d apologized for that one repeatedly. It wasn't like she and Janet and Carl weren’t trying to kick my ass too. However, it was pointed out to me that getting your ass kicked and being spun till you puked were two different things entirely.
Myrtle was up to no good and was reliving one of the pranks she liked to play in Hell—playing dead. She lay prone on the bluish-greenish-grayish linoleum floor of the hallway between the math and science labs. The horrid lighting pouring out of the science room made her already pale skin even paler . To top it all off she didn’t appear to be breathing. Demons could go hours without breathing. I stared at my dear little fake
cousin
on the floor and began to brainstorm the ways I would kill her dead later.
"Oh God, she's dead," one vapid girl shrieked and others followed suit.
Students sobbed and held each other. One had fainted and I was fairly sure one was about to get sick. Myrtle was getting a much better reaction here on Earth than she ever got in Hell. A super-cute guy had begun CPR and I could swear she smirked.
That was about all I could take.
“Excuse me,” I said as I pushed my way past the last mean girl.
“Watch it,” Blondie hissed. “Can’t you see there’s a dead girl? Show some respect, for God’s sake.”
“Like He’s ever shown me any,” I mumbled.
“What is wrong with you? Are you slow or something?” she asked, completely confused. She was as nasty as some of the ickier Demons in Hell.
“Aren’t you a sweetie.” I rolled my eyes and confused her even more. Hell’s Bells, I wanted to shut Blondie’s mouth so badly I felt my fingers tingle. I quickly clapped my hands. “She’s my cousin,” I informed the bitchy blonde. “And she’s not dead.”
“Yeah, right.” She and her attractive minions looked at me like I had three heads.
Myrtle wasn’t the only one I was going to deal with later. Blondie needed to learn some manners. I turned my back on the Meanies and gingerly pulled Cute Guy off of Myrtle. He seemed to be enjoying himself a little too much. I wasn’t sure if he was a necrophiliac or if he was simply a good Samaritan.
“She has narcolepsy.” They all stared at me blankly. For real? Hades, these mortals were slow. “You know, when you fall asleep without warning,” I enlightened the grieving crowd as I yanked the first explanation I could think of out of my ass. I have to say as far as lies went it was pretty good. The group of about thirty gasped and began to cheer. Where were the professors? Hell forbid one had called an ambulance. I was grateful no one with authority was in the vicinity. The students were still crying, but now they were high fiving, hugging and chest bumping as well. These humans were the weirdest and creepiest species ever.
Cute Guy shoved me out of the way and clasped Myrtle to his chest as crocodile tears of joy rolled down his unblemished cheeks.
“Wake up,” he yelled. “Wake up, Sleeping Beauty.” He shook her and glanced over at me suspiciously. “I think she’s dead.” He gulped hard and bit back the hysteria that was mighty close to the surface.
The crowd was no longer with me. They were torn between hoping she was alive and hoping she was dead. A death in the math-science hallway would mean no school for at least a week and automatic A's on finals for everyone. Actually, I couldn’t blame them. If I were in their shoes I’m not sure which way I’d go. Nevertheless, she wasn’t dead and Cute Guy was riding my very last nerve.
My lips thinned in irritation and it was everything I could do to keep my eyes from going red. Myrtle was going to pay. “Give her to me.” My stare drilled into Cute Guy and he reluctantly handed her over. She might not be dead now, but she was going to be so dead after I killed her so bad when we got home.
I pressed my lips to her ear. To the crowd of doubting co-eds, it looked as if I was whispering gentle endearments. They were very wrong.
“If you don’t open your eyes right now I will kill you myself,” I told her with a loving smile on my face for the benefit of our audience. “I will see to it that you end up in the Basement of Hell burning for eternity. I will visit you weekly and pour alcohol all over your open wounds and I will finish that off by dipping you in salt. And if that’s not enough, I’ll make sure you’re placed right next to our skanky hag therapist till the end of time.”
That did it.
Myrtle eyes shot open so fast I dropped her. Actually, I dropped her on purpose. Just for fun.
The crowd went wild and Cute Guy grabbed her and laid a big wet one right on her lips. She squealed, turned bright red, leaned in and gave Cute Guy another smackaroo. The cat calls and whistles came fast and furious. The good will and happiness amongst the jaded and over-it co-eds was contagious. Some of the girls even smiled at me. Maybe I wouldn’t kill Myrtle.
As quickly as it started it was over. We all scattered like mice when we heard it. Not the bell to change classes. . .the ambulance in the distance to retrieve the dead girl.
Chapter 20
"I'm a freakin' college graduate. This is ridiculous," I muttered.
"I like college. You just need to try harder."
"If Grandpa hadn't insisted I be there I'd be cutting classes like my dad wanted me to in Hell."
"Such a good little Demon," Myrtle said as she ransacked my closet for clothes.