I spend the whole drive home checking over my shoulder to make sure I’m not being followed, while still somehow balancing the scythe-walking stick in my lap. When I nearly jab it into a passing car, I debate just throwing it on the side of the road. I mean, yeah, I don’t want to be a Hellgate Guardian, but that doesn’t mean I want some hitchhiking millennial losing a toe because this temperamental stick scythed out at the wrong moment. So here I am, driving like a lunatic on a moped with an overgrown stick in my lap. Awesome.
I make it home in record time, tail free, thank fuck. I shakily abandon my moped under the carport and make my way inside my house. My door gives a long creaky hello, and I’m finally able to let out a small relieved sigh when the lock snicks into place.
I shove the walking stick from Hell—literally—into the rack that houses the umbrella and baseball bat by my door. I run through the house, checking every nook and cranny, and give all the shadows in my house the side-eye, but I’m alone as far as I can tell. I turn on all the lights though, just in case Echo tries to drop in. I don’t know how his shadow powers work, but I’m not taking any chances.
I shakily settle on the couch, and my mind reels. Tonight has been the most fucked up night I’ve ever had, and that’s saying something, because I once accidentally ate hallucinogenic mushrooms when a fuckboy sprinkled them on my pizza. And then there’s also that night where the police knocked on my door, carrying the news of my parents’ death. An ache ripples out from my heart, and I jump kick my thoughts in the gut and try to focus on shallower, less painful things.
Still, as fucked up asthisnight has been, I came out of it alive and in one piece, so I guess that’s saying something. The guys spewed a lot of fucked up shit, but they didn’t hurt me, and for that, at least, I can be grateful. Hell, I wasn’t even scared of them. Freaked out? Fuck yes. But not scared. I don’t know what that says about me. I rub the back of my neck. Shit, what does any of this say about me? Then again, if they’re right and Iama demon, it might all be just par for the course.
I eye the lightbulb overhead, wondering if maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad thing for Echo to slip into one of my shadows after all. But then my eyes widen as soon as I think that because whoa, that thought just went X-ratedquick. Excitement flutters deep into my belly, but I roll my eyes at myself. Bad body. That is not what I meant.
No more demons for me...ever. I clearly can’t be trusted, and Hell is not on my travel bucket list. There’s no way I’d be coming back from that trip unscathed, even if what they say about me being powerful is true. And it can’t be true. I’m not a demon. I’m Delta Gates, daughter of Tanya and Ray Gates, and I am human.
I hope.
7
Igrumble to myself as I peek through the blinds of my front window and scan the empty street for the fiftieth time this morning. It’s been a week since I ran my happy ass out of a well-paying job to potentially guard a Hellgate, and notoneof those hot demons has bothered to track me down. I’m not sure if I’m relieved or insulted.
I activated my hermit mode this past week, which hasn’t been much of a struggle since I’m unemployed and have no life, but it’s Sunday, and Sundays are for family, potential demon threats or not.
I pace from my living room back to my kitchen and boredly open the refrigerator door to stare at the abysmal contents. Looks like I’ve avoided grocery shopping for about as long as I can. I’ll have to restock on my way home.
I return my stare to the front window, as if I’m expecting that someone’s going to break down the door and demand I accept my fate as a Hellgate Guardian, but there’s no one there. Just the same old quiet street as always, the same lines of dilapidated houses bordering each side of the cracked and cratered pavement.
I shake my head. Clearly, no one is coming for me. I couldn’t have beenthatimportant if they haven’t even attempted to find me. I just wish I could figure out why that seems to bother me so much.
I mean, maybe I was hoping that they’d at least email and offer me back the job that IthoughtI signed up for. I’m sure the graveyard itself should be watched over while they find someone else to do that whole Hellgate Guardian thing, but I haven’t heard a peep.
Now, I find myself looking at every new job position that comes up like it’s a trick. Maybe that one job listing for the phlebotomist was actually for vampires, or the dog groomer one was for werewolves. There’s just no telling what the hell is going on in this world anymore. Now that everything I thought I knew has been burned to the ground, I’m reaching epic levels of paranoia.
I back away from the window with irritation and then swipe my keys off the counter. Enough. No one is coming for me, so it’s time I stop hiding.
I eye the weird scythe-stick still chillin’ in my umbrella holder by the door before walking out of my house for the first time in a week. I high five Fern as I leave, and then I strap my helmet on while watching the empty street and shadows around my house. I quickly rev up the ol’ moped, and despite the fact that all is quiet around me—aside from the sputtering and growly two wheeler beneath me—I can’t shake the feeling that I’m being watched.
I don’t know if it’s because I’ve been living off granola bars for the last two days and the lack of calories is taking its toll, or if I’mreallybeing spied on somehow, but I doubt it’s the latter. I don’t see anything out of the ordinary as I make the familiar drive to visit my parents, so I chalk up this round of heebie-jeebies to low blood sugar and paranoia.
I drive around the outskirts of Sandpiper City until I reach a set of tall, barred, iron gates that are wide open and welcoming. Driving through them, I take a right, a left, another right, and then park off to the side of the main road and glance around at the quiet land. I get off my moped, grab the tarp and the blanket that are always tucked under the seat, and step onto the crisp bright green grass that leads the way through Sandpiper’s Cemetery.
Cooled dewdrops that the rain from the night before delivered to the ground, kiss my black boots as I walk. I try not to think too hard about the panic attack I had last night until the storm finally stopped in the early hours of the morning. I need to get a TV for my bedroom so I can blare rock music in there when a storm hits at night, but money is tighter than that pair of jeans I’ve saved since I was a high school senior. Still, there’s only so much sleep a girl can get on the threadbare couch that I own.
After walking for a couple of minutes, I reach my parents’ headstones and smile, noting that the tops of them are still damp and smell like last night’s storm. I wipe away a couple of leaves that are stuck to the front of my dad’s headstone and then spread out my tarp and my blanket before stepping between each of their final resting places.
“You guys will never guess how crazy this last week has been,” I tell them as I lean against the side of my dad’s headstone and trace one of the edges of my mom’s. “Good news is, I bought everything I need to finally refinish the floors. Bad news is, I lost that sweet job I was telling you about last week, so I might have to return everything.”
I snap off a blade of grass and swivel it between my fingers.
“Now, before you start in on the lecture,” I go on. “This is one hundred percentnotmy fault. My bosses turned out to be demons, and I don’t mean that they were shitty to work for, I meanlegitimatedemons, horns and all. Well...not all of them have horns, but you know what I mean,” I say, my chuckle morphing into a weary sigh.
I place a hand over the carved letters of my mom’s name before closing my eyes and dropping my head. “Doyou guys know what I mean?” I ask quietly, uncertainty quivering in my tone. “Were you demons and just forgot to mention it? Because these guys say I am one too, and as much as I’m thinking they’re fucking crazy, there’s this other part of me that thinks...maybe they’re not wrong.”
I run my fingers through my purple hair and press my cheek against the cold damp stone standing guard over my dad. “You used to joke that I was evil spawn on my extra sassy days. Was there truth in the teasing?” I ask him, wishing there was some way he could answer me. I fall silent, feeling the wounds they left behind when they died break open inside of me, and I have no choice but to sit here and just breathe through the sadness that hammers at me.
It’s been a while since I felt this small and lost, and I hate coming here and being this way. I wish I had good news to share with them, or questions about which project in the house I should work on next, but everything feels deep, biting, and existential today. I just feel so...alone.
“I think I got my hopes up just a little too much,” I finally admit when I’m able to swallow down the tears I refuse to shed and can talk again. “Mom, I know you would’ve said it was all too good to be true, and I hate that you would’ve been right, but I just thought for once that things were going to work out for me, you know? That all the hard work and struggling amounted to this awesome new start, and things would fall into place.”
I rub my face, suddenly feelingin my bonestired. “Anyway, don’t worry about me. I’ll figure it out. I always do,” I reassure them. “I guess if this whole demon thing turns out to be legit, then I’ll know why my guardian angels have been dropping the ball so much. Demons probably don’t have any,” I tease. “Think guardian demons exist?” I ask, though my laugh sounds hollow, even to my own ears.
