“Do you want to try it?”
“No,” I interjected quickly. “I tried peanut butter last night and almost hurled.”
“Well, I have my therapy group coming later this afternoon and I want to go to the grocery and buy some snacks. Would you like to join me?”
“Hell has grocery stores?”
“Yep, we even have malls,” she said with great pride.
“But you’re a princess—can’t you have your stuff delivered?”
“I can.” She nodded her head. “But I want to live like a normal person and I enjoy getting out. I do take a bodyguard, but I drive myself.”
I gave her the thumbs up and she giggled. I had no desire to go to the grocery and I wanted to find my little ones. “Have you seen my Baby Demons?”
“No, but I’m sure they’re fine,” she said, grabbing her purse and keys. “If you want to walk the property make sure you take a bodyguard. They say there was a mild Hellquake during the night and I don’t want you to get lost or hurt.”
“Are those common this time of year?”
“Hellquakes are never common. The first time I felt one was yesterday with you. Word is that it wasn’t a Hellquake at all. It was some kind of unnatural phenomenon. Something bad.”
“Well, that’s great and especially since it coincides with my arrival.”
“Yeah, unfortunately that’s the word around town too,” she shrugged and gave me an apologetic smile. “You take a guard if you want to wander the grounds. Okay?”
“You got it.” Not.
Chapter 11
Making peace with my Demon side was difficult—mainly because I had no freakin’ clue how to do it. The book was of no help whatsoever. It was just history and gobbledygook. Although it did have a detailed picture of The Sword of Death—one of the most impressive pieces of deadly art I’d ever seen. If I was to find it, I definitely didn’t want to touch that sucker . . . way too evil for me. In my gut I knew this was the book the Sins were talking about. It was probably significant that I could read it, but that was the least of my problems at the moment. After Dixie left I paced her house trying to pick up on the energy Grandpa left behind. I felt things, but I wasn’t sure which energy belonged to which Demon. Shitshitshit. I was worried about my little Demons. I needed to find Ross, Rachel, Beyonce and Abe and I was hoping to be able to use that nifty little energy trick to find my babies.
“Hell’s bells,” I muttered. I hopped around, hoping to release some tension and become one with my inner fucking Demon. “How hard can this be?”
Hard.
I tried walking and talking and yelling and meditating. Nothing. I couldn’t make the black glitter gloves show up at will and my Vampyre powers were still MIA. Ten more minutes. I’d give myself ten more minutes to try and get this shit and then I was going out anyway. There was no telling what kind of trouble my tiny monsters could get into in Hell.
Peeking out of the window, I sized up the bodyguards. They looked more like gun-toting, bodybuilding male models than they did bodyguards. I was certain they knew their job. Satan wouldn’t leave just any old guards with his daughter. The one on the far left looked the weakest. He was who I wanted to be my escort. Ten minutes . . .
What were some of the things Grandpa said? Come on . . . think. Mother Nature was a colossal bitch . . . my dad had made his own evil bed . . . seven True Immortals . . . mind over matter. Wait. That was it. Mind over matter. Could it really be that simple? I laughed at the possibility.
“I choose to accept both my Vampyre and Demon heritage,” I mumbled. “I choose to accept my Vampyre and Demon heritage,” I said a bit louder.
A tingling started low in my spine and travelled up to the base of my neck. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was unfamiliar. I moved faster around the room wondering if this would be as debilitating as when I became a Vampyre.
“I choose to accept my Vampyre and Demon heritage,” I shouted, uncaring if all the guards outside could hear my lunacy. It was working. And I felt fine and my . . . shit. I jack knifed over in pain as wave after wave of nausea ripped through my body. Everything appeared blurry and red and I grasped for purchase on the carpet. Fuck, why did everything immortal have to hurt?
“I promise to be good or evil or vapid or anything,” I screamed, praying to every deity I think of . . . Just stop. Please stop. The burning was branding my soul and I planned to rip my cute little son of a bitch grandpa to shreds with my bare hands if this turned me into a full Demon. Wait. Why in the fuck did I even listen to him? Was it because he was cuddly? I was an idiot of epic proportions.
Crawling across the floor, I gasped for air. The burning slowly subsided, but the tingling in my spine remained. Please God, Satan, Jesus, Moses, Steven Perry and all the rest of Journey, don’t let there be a Round Two of fire consuming my body. Sitting still I waited. And waited. Nothing. Why the guards hadn’t stormed the house was odd. I knew I’d been screaming, but the duration was fairly short. Was screaming in pain a common occurrence at Dixie’s house? I certainly hoped not.
Time to test the new me.
I closed Dixie’s shades to be on the safe side, shut my eyes and took a flying leap. Thankfully I could fly, but I learned a valuable lesson. Flying with your eyes closed is a no-no. Bashing into a wall hurts and causes damage. I moved one of Dixie’s paintings to cover the busted plaster and moved on.
I was still breathing and my reflection was still there, but when I cloaked myself my image disappeared. Positive that Steven Perry had been the lucky charm in my prayer, I silently thanked him and forgave him for quitting the band.