“Oh shit,” Dimitri breathes, then poofs out of existence, leaving the tang of sulfur behind.
“Well, that solves that,” I mutter.
I want to ask him why he's acting like he caught his friend and me making out. I won't because I'm a fucking coward. If I'm being honest, I'm afraid of his answer. He didn't even want to say Dimitri's name before, much less have me know they're friends. My mind runs over my conversation with the other demon. Random words stick out: feisty, Omen's skin, push back. None of it matters anyway.
“Go, Clara,” Omen says, stepping aside. Weariness lines his voice and he pinches the bridge of his nose.
I open my mouth to snap at him or maybe to apologize. Slowly, I press my lips together and slink past him. Tonight hasn't gone the way I thought it would. Actually, I imagined wallowing in my pain, then forcing myself to get up tomorrowand shower. It's hard to think when your insides feel like they've grown spikes and are shredding your organs.
I turn at the bottom of the stairs and find him in the same position. “Thank you for bringing me all that stuff. And I'm sorry about Dimitri.”
He doesn't move, doesn't even look at me. I swallow down all the things I want to say and all the questions I want to ask. If he's not going to say anything, then so be it.
I turn and walk up the stairs. He doesn't follow, because of course he doesn't. I wander back to my bedroom, wondering if I could actually fall asleep again. My gaze catches on the crumpled sheets and I sigh.
My knees crack as I drop in front of the plastic bags. I don't know how much time passes while I separate everything, but eventually I get to the ice cream. Tears fill my eyes as I take in the massacre. When I lift the sack, a sticky mess spreads across the hardwoods.
“What the fuck,” I breathe.
I can't be mad at Omen for not knowing ice cream melts if it’s left out. The demon didn't know what fries were. Except now I don't have any and the last thing I want to do is go into town to get more. My cramps may be gone, but I just feel gross now. I'll clean myself up after I deal with this. I drop the bag, then push to my feet.
Every time I swipe my hand across my cheeks, they come away wet. I shouldn't be crying, but I can't seem to stop. If I keep moving, eventually it'll end and I'll forget why I'm blubbering. I end up using an entire roll of paper towels in my quest to clean everything. I'm still scrubbing the dark floor when a meow echoes from behind me.
A heavy sigh leaves me. “Hey, Handsome. I'll feed you in a little bit. Just give me a minute.”
A teardrop hits the floor and I wipe it away. Another one drips off my nose and I wipe that one away, too. The more I try to push Omen from my mind, the more he fills it. I thought things between us were changing last night. I didn't think I was an obligation to fulfill. Looking back, that's exactly what I am to him. I shouldn't be surprised he told me to get rid of the summoning circle.
Handsome butts his head against my hip, and I drop the sopping wet towel. It's not doing any good anyway. I gather the cat in my arms and bury my face in his fluffiness. My muscles relax while my chin quivers. His purrs reverberate through my chest. A choked sob leaves me. Not for Omen. Not only for Omen. Despair fills me at the direction my life has taken. I thought I was content before Omen showed up, and I blamed him for my turmoil. It's not his fault, though. It's mine.
I forgot what it's like to be alone. Once I moved away from my hometown, I didn't know anyone. Sure, I could still call home, but eventually that stopped. Dad passed, then Mom. Friends got me through since I didn't have anyone else. Then I lost my job and ended up isolated in my house, trying to figure out what I wanted out of life. My friends started dropping off, one by one. I keep coming back to them moving on when I feel like I'm stuck. Then I feel guilty for thinking they should put their lives on hold merely to include me.
“It'll be okay, Kitty Cat,” I wheeze. “Everything will be?—”
The cat disappears in a puff of smoke, leaving my arms empty. Shock spreads through me and dries up my tears. I'm not even surprised. Of course the cat would leave when Omen does. It's his fucking pet. Except now I have a shit ton of cat food, toys, and a bed without anything to show for it. I'll have to donate everything to the shelter, which means I'll have to drive an hour to the nearest one. I swear I spent hundreds of dollars on random things and now I have to purge my house.
I swallow hard and concentrate on my breathing. Anything to keep me from spiraling. I need to get my shit together and figure out my future. Wallowing isn't my style and I don't know why I've been stuck in this hole for so long. I could blame my hormones, or my friends, or Omen, but really it's me and I'm tired. I'm exhausted with myself, honestly. Being a whiny bitch isn't fun.
Whatever happens, I'll be fine. My days will settle into a routine and everything will go back to normal—a different normal, but that's fine. My family is gone. My friends are gone. My cat is gone. Omen is…he's gone.
And I'll be perfectly fine.
My feet slam into the obsidian floor in the main hall of Hell. Shards fling into the wall, the chairs, the others gathered around. Demons scatter as I stalk across the large room and smoke rolls through the sky of the open ceiling. Fire drips from my fingertips and I relish the heat searing through my body.
Normally, I'd quash the need to explode, knowing how dangerous it is for those around me, not to mention myself. This time, I fan the flames, letting them consume whatever logical ideas my mind throws at me.
The crowd parts, leaving only Dimitri in my path. When he turns, he only has time to widen his eyes before my hand latches onto his throat and I slam him into the pillar behind him. He struggles for a minute, then sags in my grasp. He knows he won't be able to get away from me. Not without hurting himself. He'd have to call down lightning to even come close, and he won't do that. He understands this.
“Get on with it,” he wheezes and his skin cracks, revealing deep purple underneath. Sparks crackle along the grooves, and I snarl at him.
“You touched her,” I snarl.
“Barely.”
I lean closer as I attempt not to suffocate him with my flames. I may be pissed at him, but I don't want to kill him. He's still my oldest friend. One of myonlyfriends. Which is why I'm so pissed at him.
I told him about Clara in confidence. I didn't think he'd use the information against me. The betrayal cuts deep. My throat aches as fire creeps upward. My stomach rolls, a tug like the one I've felt so often recently hitting me hard. If she summons me right now, she won't like who she meets.
“Omen,” he gasps, and I growl, launching us into the void.
