Hell in a Handbasket Read online

  Dorian exchanges a dark glance with Cain, but they don’t say a word, and that worries me. Do they know something about my shadow that I don’t?

  I lick my dry lips and grab one of the small cushions to hug against my chest.

  Cain watches me intently, while Elias scratches his head and Dorian presses an ice pack to his shoulder. The skin along his face and neck are still an angry pink color, but it looks much better than it was. He’s healing pretty quick, considering.

  “Is that how you tracked down the relics?” he asks me. “With your shadow?”

  “Hmm.” I shrug. “Not really. That’s…” I pause, wondering how much to reveal. “That’s something else.” I glance down at my lap. Maybe it is time to just spit it all out. All of it. What do I really have to lose if they know the real me? They own my soul, and I’m not going anywhere. Would it really be so bad?

  “Aria,” Cain starts. “The secrets and the lies need to stop. How can we protect you if we don’t know what dangers are coming for you?”

  The mention of wanting to protect me catches me off guard. Sure, Cain had said something similar while washing my hair in the bath, but I didn’t think much of it beyond the need for them to keep control of their property, which includes me. There were these brief moments, though, like now, where he almost sounded… sincere.

  “Stealing the orb was a dangerous move,” Elias adds in.

  “Yeah, but like I told Dorian before, I did it for money,” I tell them. “I had no idea what the Orb of Chaos was. Hell, I still don’t know.”

  To my surprise, Dorian bursts out laughing, his head thrown back and his shoulders bouncing. “Orb of what, now?”

  I hesitate. “The Orb… of Chaos? At least that’s what Sir Surchion called it. Something about it containing the waters of the River Styx?”

  “Well, part of that is right. The eye does contain the waters of the Styx,” Cain explains.

  The eye? Eye of what? I cringe at the thought that I’ve possibly been carrying around a real eye all this time. It definitely wasn’t as detailed-looking as the heart relic was, appearing more like a Christmas ornament filled with liquid than an eyeball.

  “Wait,” Dorian cuts in and leans forward slightly, his eyebrows pulling together. “How did you find the heart and the hair?”

  Hair? This was getting weirder by the second. Did he mean the cord? “For some reason, I’ve always been drawn to magical objects. The darker the stuff, the more pull it has to me. It might sound flashy, but really, it’s stupid. It feels like I was given these gifts with no instructions on how to use them. I had to figure it out by myself.”

  Like everything else in my life, pretty much.

  “Elaborate,” Cain says.

  I exhale loudly. “I don’t really know… When I’m close to something that’s been touched by dark magic, my toe starts to buzz.” I hug the pillow tighter, waiting for them to howl with laughter. But it doesn’t come, only confused expressions.

  “Your toe?” Elias repeats. “Why your toe?”

  “How should I know? Does it matter if it’s my toe, my ear, or even my hand? It directs me toward magic. Cursed objects. Protective runes. All kinds of things. I found out on a school trip to a museum of all places, so you can imagine my shock when my pinky toe went berserk on me.”

  Only Dorian smirks at my attempt to lighten the mood, while the other two seem stuck on the idea.

  “You wanted the truth, so that’s it. Yes, I can sense relics with my toe. Yes, my shadow has a life of her own. And I found your string-thingy and heart piece by accident. They sang and played music to me. The orb seems to warn me when danger approaches. When they’re all together, they produce music. It’s freaky.”

  Wow, that was a lot. But it feels incredible to finally get that off my chest. The demons’ silence is a bit unnerving, but at least I don’t need to dance around the subject anymore.

  When a few more tense moments pass by without a word, my worry doubles. If my ability shocks demons, then it has to be bad…

  “That’s a powerful ability.” Elias is the first to break the wall of silence. “Do you think your shadow and toe thing are related? Feels like they might be.”

  “If you know anything about what I am, feel free to share. I’m opening up here because I want answers just as bad as you do.” I turn in my seat and look at Cain. If any of these three will know, it’ll be him. “What’s up with those relics anyway? I’ve never come across anything as powerful as them before. And I’ve never seen a relic influence anyone other than me, but it was clear you were affected, too.”

  His eyes widen, as if my words surprise him.

  “Wait… Didn’t you know?” I glance at Dorian, who’s looking just as anxious, then back at Cain. Okay, I guess they didn’t. “I wasn’t around when you found the hair or cord piece, but the heart definitely changed you. You…”

  I pause. How do I say ‘You couldn’t keep your hands to yourself’ nicely?

  “You weren’t exactly yourself,” I settle with instead.

  A shudder runs through me at the memory of what happened when I first touched the heart. The images in my head of all three demons having their way with me at the same time… They had been so vivid, too, like a quick flash into the future.

  More like my wet dreams.

  “She’s right,” Dorian speaks up. “After we collected it from the ice, you started acting off.”

  Cain’s expression morphs into a scowl.

  “You were pretty jittery yourself,” Elias says to Dorian. “I noticed it right away. So I wouldn’t be so quick to point a finger at him.”

  Dorian’s mouth flops open to argue, but then clamps shut, knowing he can’t.

  Hopefully I don’t get shit for saying this, but… “I think it brought out your true thoughts and desires.”

  Cain’s gaze drops back to the fire, and I know he’s thinking the same thing I am. About our close encounter on top of the dining room table. He’d been influenced by the heart’s magic then. It had been forcing him to show his true feelings for me.

  My throat suddenly feels tight, so I decide it might be better to change the subject. “So, since the heart’s effects clearly have worn off by now, can any of you tell me what I really am?”

  Another wave of silence stretches over the room, and anxiety crawls up my spine.

  “Anyone? I’ll settle for a hunch...”

  Rubbing his jaw in deep thought, Cain’s gaze remains glued to the fire. “You truly don’t know.” It’s a statement. Not a question.

  “Not the foggiest idea.”

  More uneasy quiet, and my legs begin to bounce with apprehension.

  Finally, Cain looks up again and replies carefully, “We have never come across anyone with your… skills before. They’re new to us.”

  Oh, that doesn’t sound good.

  “But now that we know what you can do, we can try to find out your heritage.”

  The idea of them tracking down my past sounds fantastic, seeing as I’ve had zero luck. So I ask more questions. “Why are you collecting the relics anyway? Dorian mentioned that they’re crucial for your future. What does that mean?” I shuffle on the couch, turning to face all three of them and tucking a bent leg under me.

  Cain shoots Dorian a glare.

  “You said no more secrets,” I remind Cain.

  Dorian reclines, watching Cain with amusement. “She’s got you there,” he says.

  Leaning against the bookshelf wall, Elias has his legs crossed at the ankles, arms folded over his chest, ready to roll his eyes.

  “The short answer,” Cain starts, “is that, as you already know, the three of us were banished from Hell. The relics are our only chance of returning home.”

  I push my feet to the floor and inch to the edge of the couch. “You told me you were banished but not why.”

  Cain stands tall, but the torture that flashes in his eyes tells me this topic is painful for him. I can’t imagine what it would be like to be kic
ked out of your home… Hmmm, actually, maybe I can, seeing Murray did something similar to me. But still.

  “We tried to usurp my father.”

  “You planned a coup?” I don’t know jack about the underworld, but, I mean, hello, he’s Lucifer. The evilest bastard around. That seems like an unwise move.

  “He’s a fucking monster,” Elias adds.

  Dorian snorts. “Understatement of the century.”

  Cain stiffens, his shoulders squaring. The fight in his expression paints the image of someone scorned. It’s clear whatever they had planned failed disastrously. And suddenly, the way I look at these three demons changes completely.

  Here I assumed they were untouchable, able to do whatever the heck they wanted. Except, that’s not it at all… They are just as messed up as me.

  We have no true home.

  Our families don’t want us.

  We’re trying to find our way through this shit-hole of a place.

  “But if you’re banished, why are you trying so hard to get back there?” Just as the words leave my mouth, I feel stupid. Family, right? Always family. Why am I always trying to find out about my past and holding onto the hospital receipt I found in Murray’s house?

  Because I’m desperate to belong somewhere.

  I glance up at Cain, and for the first time see a vulnerable side to him. My chest clenches.

  “We have unfinished business,” he finally answers.

  “And what will happen to me?” The question spills free before I can rein it in.

  “We’re not going to leave you behind,” Dorian says, reaching across the couch and pushing a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

  “That’s what worries me. What if I don’t want to go to Hell? Don’t I have to be dead to go there? Will you kill me so I can join you? I mean, you’re going there to fight the actual devil, and that’s not the war I signed up for.” Suddenly, I’m hyperventilating, sweat dampening the back of my neck. I hadn’t intended to blurt all that out, but my panic took over.

  Elias laughs, and I glare at him. “It’s not funny,” I say.

  “If we are going to Hell, we’re not going to leave you here all alone.”

  “So, what, you get the relics back from Sir Surchion and then you plan on heading back home?” My breath catches in my throat.

  “Not quite that simple. We’ve been searching for them for a long time and have never been as close as we are now.” Finally, Cain meets my gaze, and I know immediately what he’s implying. They’ve never been close until I came along. Because of my gift to sniff dark magic out.

  That means they’re planning on using me as their personal relic-finder. But tracking down all of them will send me straight to Hell with them.

  Shit.

  Dorian eyes me, and sensing my dismay, he mutters Cain’s way, “Maybe we’re done with the questions for today? Hm?”

  Cain nods, agreeing. “Your breakfast is waiting for you in the dining room.” Then he gestures toward the parlor’s doorway.

  It takes me a second to realize he’s telling me to go. I jolt to my feet, unsure what to say. Right now I want alone-time more than anything, anyway. Without a moment’s hesitation, I head out of the room.

  Panic bubbles in my gut. Somehow, I feel like I’ve just been handed my death sentence.

  Chapter Eight

  Elias

  The only shred of normalcy is every morning, when I open my eyes, Aria is there either shaking me awake, threatening me, or whacking me in the head with a pillow. After learning about her strange sixth sense to detect magical objects and her parasitic shadow creature, waking up in her bed isn’t the smartest idea.

  Of course, if I could stop myself, I would, but as soon as she re-entered the house, the dreams about Serena started again. As did the sleepwalking.

  Looks like Cain was right all along not to trust her fully. I’m still not sure if I’m buying her truly not knowing what she is or how to control that shadow entity of hers, but having a way to track down the rest of Azrael’s harp is beneficial to us. And, as Cain put it after Aria left our interrogation, worth the risk of keeping her alive and with us. It just means keeping an extra close eye on her from now on and looking out for any shadows that move when they aren’t supposed to.

  In the meantime, Dorian and I make our way to the antique shop where we know Sir Surchion will return eventually, if he hasn’t already. I don’t know much about dragons, but I’m sure now that he knows we’ve found his stash of treasures, he’ll want to relocate them. Dragons are notoriously possessive. Hoarders.

  Dorian’s driving his Ferrari again. The skin on his face, shoulder, and back has healed, but even with all the feeding we’ve been doing, there’s still traces of scarring along the side of his face and down his neck. He’s obsessed with it, wearing turtleneck shirts or lifting the collar of his jacket to hide them. They’re barely noticeable, but he’s always been such a pretty boy. It drives him crazy, so naturally, I enjoy torturing him about it.

  “I don’t know why you’re so hung up on that scar. It’s not even that noticeable…” I flick his ear, and he jerks the car as he waves me away.

  “Don’t fucking touch me,” he snaps and lifts his turtleneck higher. “It’s bad enough Cain’s making us both go on this little adventure. I could’ve done it perfectly fine alone.”

  “Believe me, there are a million other things I’d rather be doing right now than being stuck in this metal death trap with you.”

  His hands clench on the steering wheel. “Then get out. You can run behind the car instead.”

  “Behind? I could beat you there.” It was an idea. One I might need to seriously consider. In my hellhound form, I could probably keep up.

  He snorts a laugh. “You poor, deluded creature. Not this car.” As if to prove his point, he steps on the gas and rears us up to a higher speed. It’s the dead of night, so of course, the roar of the engine echoes throughout the quiet city streets. But since there isn’t much straight road to use here, he quickly has to slam on the brakes to whip us around a corner.

  My stomach lurches, and I suddenly feel sick. I hate the city and I hate being confined in small places, like cars, where I have no control over myself or the space around me. It’s unnerving.

  Dorian takes another corner fast, and I grip the door’s handle tight enough to crush the plastic. “Fuck, man. Who the fuck are you racing here?”

  “You’re the last person who should be commenting on my driving,” he replies. “You refuse to even try it.”

  Between Dorian going too fast and Cain driving slower than a hundred-year-old tortoise, nah, I’m good.

  As we come to a stoplight, bright red, white, and blue lights flash from the next street over. The one we have to go down.

  Dorian and I exchange knowing looks. That’s where the collector’s store and warehouse are.

  Something’s up.

  The sharp smell of smoke and fire invades my nostrils immediately. Even with the windows rolled tightly shut, it still fills my lungs.

  Instead of waiting for the stoplight to turn green, Dorian glances at the opposing streets and drives us right through the red. Then he pulls the car over and throws it into park.

  We both get out and stride into the adjoining street, which has been blocked off by barriers and cones. The smell of fire and smoke is harsher outside, making my eyes water. Sometimes having a super sniffer sucks.

  “Oh shit…” Dorian says.

  I look up. Three firetrucks fill the lane. Men in full protective garb hold hoses to the crumbling remains of a building with flames licking up the sides. It’s obvious they’re struggling to keep the fire under control, despite the three trucks and all the manpower at their disposal.

  It’s clear what’s happened here, but I say it out loud just for the hell of it. “The bastard torched his place.”

  As expected, Dorian isn’t impressed and rolls his eyes. “Clearly. But why?”

  “How the fuck should I know? The ol
d guy was crazy.”

  Dorian pauses, thinking. “Couldn’t be to deter us or scare us…”

  “What do we care if he burns his stuff?”

  “Exactly my point.” He lets out an exasperated sigh. “He could’ve been destroying some kind of evidence? Or trying to get us off his tail before he moves to another nest location.”

  I don’t like the sound of that. The flying range of a full-grown dragon? He could cross continents in days. We could lose track of him and the harp’s pieces forever.

  Dorian must be thinking the same thing because he slaps my arm and nods toward the Ferrari. We hop back inside, and he speeds dangerously fast through Glenside’s city streets, straight toward home. This time, I don’t complain.

  Oh man. Cain isn’t going to like this.

  ARIA

  I lie in bed with nothing to do but stare at the ceiling. There’s no clock in my room, but I know it’s late by the full moon’s light spilling through the window and the way my eyes burn from keeping them open for so long. But sleep isn’t coming easily tonight, especially knowing the demons are thinking of using me and Sayah to find more of those relics.

  The idea of releasing Sayah scares the shit out of me right now. After what happened in Sir Surchion’s warehouse—seeing her with those evil, glowing red eyes and how she almost killed me to become more solid—I don’t want to risk it.

  Until I figure out a way to protect myself, she’s staying put.

  That just means that for once in my life, I am truly, truly alone. Well, besides Cassiel, but I’m not sure how much he counts as an actual friend, being an animal and all.

  You’d think I’d be used to it by now, but whenever things got hairy, I at least had Sayah there. She’s saved my ass so many times. Now I couldn’t even trust her. I don’t understand.

  “What are you really?” I ask her for the thousandth time since getting back to the mansion. And like the thousands of times before, she doesn’t answer, making sure to stay far in the dark recesses of my mind, only a faint flutter against my consciousness instead of the strong presence she used to be. Maybe she’s afraid to come out, too. Or ashamed…