Loving Her Read online

  They’re just dreams, wishes that have to remain wishes. After witnessing Eisheth, one of Lucifer’s own, betray him like Judas betrayed Jesus, none of us dare go against Lucifer ever again.

  I’ll never forget that night when Lucifer discovered Eisheth’s betrayal, the image of Eisheth’s body incinerating under the raging inferno of Lucifer’s flames, his eyeballs melting down his face. One minute he was there, and the next, a pile of ashes. It lasted minutes, in reality, but it felt as though hours had passed, and we were all scared.

  But what good is dream telepathy, anyway? Hop into the dreams of my family, apologize for being a dick and leaving them all behind? I’m sure they’ll all love that. I’m sure that would make up for the fact that I’m here, and they’re not. As much as I hate my step-father, I wish I have the power that Asmodeus does. One evil stare, and the person he’s looking at vanishes into nothingness, as though they were never there to begin with.

  The rain is coming down hard and fast now, and I wonder how the humans deal with the constant wetness of their world, the cold that bites right into your very soul. Where I’m from, I know only heat. Hot and dry. That’s it. I’ve been down there for so long that I barely remember what fresh air feels like. It’s not the cleanest smell, but it’s refreshing compared to the stench of death and decay that’s suffocated me for longer than I dare admit.

  I look down at my hands, like pools of the night sky giving form. All I can think about is that if I ever get my original skin back, I’m never complaining about being pale ever again.

  I pull up the collar of the yellow coat and lower my head, pulling the umbrella down low so I can keep my face as hidden from others’ view as much as possible. Given the strength of the rain, I’ll be surprised if anyone can see my face well enough to notice the color of my skin, but I don’t want to risk it, either.

  “Howdy!” Suddenly, a man calls out to me in a jovial tone.

  I automatically turn my head in his direction, twitching the collar again to ensure that the lower half of my face is covered by the yellow coat. The man is wearing a coat just like mine, and he carries the same purple umbrella. He waves at me with a smile, his round belly jiggling as he hurries along the path.

  “It’s really coming down out here! Best be heading home; don’t want to get blown away now, do you?” He laughs to himself, and all I can do is roll my eyes.

  “Yeah, sure.” I force a chuckle from my throat, glancing back at the pavement rather than looking at him.

  “My wife warned me about coming out on a day like this, but I couldn’t help but run to the store for a six pack. You get it, us men and our needs.” He chuckles, continuing to talk despite my clear disinterest.

  If these humans didn’t have weapons, their constant chatter and grating voices would be the death of me.

  “You seem like you can use some cheering up, my friend. Care for a beer? I can survive on five for one night!” The man laughs again, his cackle beginning to make my brain bleed.

  I finally look up at him and see that he’s holding out a bottle with a strange yellow liquid inside. I catch his smile, so wholesome, so innocent, that for a moment, I almost forget that these humans are killers. I shake my head at him, rejecting his offer, but the smile remains on his face.

  I don’t want to be here. Not without my family.

  I’m not here to make friends; I’m here for revenge.

  “Suit yourself!” he replies in a sing-song voice. “But if you change your mind about that beer or get hungry, there’s a great pub just a street down. I go there all the time.” My eyes follow where the man points down the road toward the direction he’d just come from, and I look over my shoulder out of courtesy, trying not to draw attention to myself.

  “Thanks,” I mutter, watching the jolly plump man skip away.

  My stomach begins to growl, and I silently curse him for mentioning food. In the Underworld, the demons eat — they eat my kind, humans turned into monsters, who look more threatening than we really are. The reality is, we can’t really defend ourselves, not really. It’s why they pick us off, feeding their greedy, hungry bellies out of spite more than necessity, keeping us afraid so we remember our place.

  The rest of us are left with the colorless gruel they serve the animals down there, twisted creatures that would just as readily eat us as the demons would. Thick gray gruel that looks and tastes like concrete — hard enough to kill someone if thrown at them. I don’t even dare imagine what it’s made from; I’ve never been brave enough to ask. I found the bone of a finger in it once, but I don’t like to think about it for too long, or else it makes me feel sick.

  Maybe eating something isn’t a bad idea after all. I’m weak and lightheaded, and I’m alone in this world without the strength and support of my friends and family. I need to regain what little strength I have remaining. If they do attack, I don’t have enough in me to fight back, and I have to stay alive. I have to stay safe for the sake of my family.

  I have to make this right, and to do that, I have to find the Chosen One.

  I turn around and stroll back down the way the man had pointed, keeping my head down to shield myself from the rain and keep my face hidden from all the other humans in yellow coats who glance in my direction. I don’t know whether it’s just paranoia, or whether they are all staring at me.

  What the hell is so fascinating, anyway? I look just like everybody else in this godforsaken town — yellow and purple, my most hated colors in the whole universe. They’re lucky I’m not my step-father. One look from him, and they’ll all be gone. For good.

  My stomach growls angrily at me the further down the road I get, so much so that I’m sure the people around me can hear it. The last thing I need is my stomach drawing attention to my presence. It’s difficult enough to hide in plain sight as it is.

  I clutch at my stomach as I continue down the road, searching for this infamous pub the man had been yammering about. I don’t know what a beer is, but I’ll happily take a bowl of barley and a glass of warm cow’s milk. It’s simple, and most would refer to it as “peasant” food, but to me, it would be the best meal in the whole world right now. Anything has to be better than the gray gruel I’ve been eating for the last thousand years.

  I have no idea what this pub looks like. It’s not a word I understand, but after a moment or two longer, a fragrant aroma wafts my way across the damp wind, and my stomach immediately answers with another, much louder, rumble. I stop, bending over slightly as I attempt to ignore the cramping in my belly, looking up at the sign above the door.

  “Ge… Gera?” I try to make it out. “Whatever.” What does it even matter? I don’t even care; I just need food.

  I don’t want to hesitate. I don’t want to show any sign of weakness, but at the same time, I’m afraid I’ll be spotted and ambushed. As my stomach screams at me to fill it, I know I can’t put it off anymore. I need to fill it, or I’ll collapse from hunger, and then what will happen when they find me unconscious on the floor? Easy pickings for the enemy.

  Driven inside by my need to stuff my face, the smell hits me hard. The delicious aroma mixes with something reminiscent of century-old wheat that’s been left out to dry… and then rot in the sun. It reminds me of before, of home. It might not be the most pleasant smell, or the most pleasant memory, but it’s more familiar than anything else in this world so far, and I cling to that.

  “What can I get for you?” The man who speaks to me is scruffy, with wide blue eyes and a nose large enough that it feels like if he turned around too quickly, he would knock someone out with it. He nods his head at me as he wipes his pudgy, hairy hands on the dirty fabric around his waist, pulling a cloth from the pocket of the garment as he begins wiping down the surface in front of me. He then picks up the silver domes on the side and brushes away the crumbs from underneath them.

  “Uh…” I hesitate, unsure of what to say, let alone what to ask for. I’m reminded of how different things are now since the last time my kind managed to reach the surface. I know nothing of this world. Keeping myself hidden is going to be difficult at the best of times, but it feels almost impossible right now.

  “What? You gotta speak up, buddy. It’s way too loud in here to be murmuring, and I’m hard of hearing.” The man grunts at me, tapping at his ear.

  “Ca-Can I get some food?” I ask stiffly, still keeping my voice low as though I expect the whole place to turn and stare at me if they hear me speak too loudly.

  “Yeah, well, we got plenty of that here. What do you want? Burger? Cheesesteak? Fries? What?” he asks.

  Burger? Cheesesteak? Fries? I don’t recognize any of these words, but they don’t sound like food to me. Before our incarceration, back when I was still a full human, I’d gotten used to the simple meals of barley, wheat, and what little I could manage to hunt with my own bare hands. I have no idea what a burger is. I have no idea if it’s even alive or a plant. It’s all completely new to me.

  “Can I get a bowl of barley, please? And a glass of warm milk?” I ask, keeping my head low as I sit at the counter. My shoulders are slouched, and the hood of the yellow coat is pulled up over my head.

  “Dude, what the hell are you talkin’ about? This is a pub, not a farm. We ain’t got none of that shit here. You want a burger or not?” the man asks angrily.

  “Is… it is alive?”

  The man laughs, patting his huge belly with a hand. “Ha! I hope not. Otherwise, I might have a lawsuit on my hands!” Suddenly, his smile turns into a scowl, and his eyebrows furrow as he stares at me. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those fucking vegans. All these Angelenos, always coming into my bar on their way to some dumbass festival or other lame event, asking for fucking tofu cheesesteaks and po-po bowls, or whatever is trending down there. Sick to death of it! Nothing wrong with a good bit of meat!”

  I shake my head quickly, not wanting to draw any more attention to myself. I don’t understand a word the man is saying, but as his cheeks turn red, I recognize human anger and realize it’s best just to agree with him rather than make him angrier. If I ask any more questions, I’m only going to attract the attention of everyone else inside this stinky place, and I have to stay hidden for as long as I can.

  “Good. Burger, then?” The man smiles again, his anger forgotten, and I’m just grateful that whatever response I’d given him is the right one.

  I nod, hoping that this “burger” is going to be enough to fill my aching stomach. I need to figure this new world out quickly so that I can fit in and hide until I can bring my family to me.

  “One heart attack burger comin’ right up! I swear, you haven’t had a real burger until you’ve had a Geraldy’s famous heart attack burger.” The man leans in closer. “The secret is ten strips of the fattiest bacon you can find.” He chuckles. “Little advice, buddy. Lay off the sunbeds. I don’t know what kinda crazy voodoo pigment you got goin’ on there, but I ain’t ever seen that color on a man before.” He laughs heartily.

  I scowl slightly, shrinking under his gaze and pulling the coat tighter around me. Congratulations, Draven, as if this stupid yellow coat is ever going to be enough to hide me from the humans’ sight. Nothing is ever going to be enough to conceal the monster that I am. Though, he hasn’t immediately reached for a carving knife, so I should be glad of that small stroke of luck, I suppose.

  My stomach continues to growl as he leaves me, and I take the opportunity to look around the room. It’s noisy, despite there only being four to five humans in here, along with myself and the scruffy man. They don’t look like the humans I remember, the ones who attacked and killed my father on sight. They had murder in their eyes, stern and evil; they were ready to kill us.

  But these humans? These ones are insane; they’re loopier than Asmodeus when he’s had one chalice of blood too many. These humans, laughing and drinking something I don’t recognize in excess, they’re disconnected from reality in a way I don’t understand. I wonder if these humans would even be able to destroy us demons; they’re not at all like I remember them.

  “Here you go, buddy. Your burger.” The scruffy man returns and puts a fragrant round monstrosity down in front of me, pulling my attention away from these clowns I’m meant to be afraid of.

  I turn my attention to the soft, spherical object, its delicious smell enticing me toward it, filling my brain with my hunger as I stare at this unusual thing in front of me. I reach out a finger and poke the top of it, smiling as it squishes down under the pressure of my finger.

  “Heh. Squishy,” I mutter. “Of course, it is. I’d break my teeth otherwise.” I roll my eyes at myself, wondering how I even manage to function some days.

  The scruffy man snorts in amusement, raising an eyebrow at me as he watches me interact with my burger. “What’s the matter? Never seen a burger before?” he asks me.

  I shake my head, suddenly feeling very conscious of that fact. Clearly, it’s an odd thing not to have had, which only makes me stick out like a sore thumb.

  “You know, you’re a very, very peculiar man. Skin dark as ash, walkin’ around in a daze, asking for barley and milk. You’re definitely not from around here, but I like it, and I’ve decided that I like you.” He chuckles, pointing to the burger still squished underneath my finger. “Try it. You’ll love it; trust me.”

  I reach down to take the burger in my hands, watching as its juices drip down onto the plate below, the smell making my mouth water. Licking my lips, I take a large bite out of the soft thing, flavor flooding my tongue as my saliva fills my mouth at the delectable taste. I swallow and let out a soft moan of pleasure as I smile at the man.

  “Like it?” he asks, though I can tell by his face that he already knows the answer.

  “This is the best thing I have ever tasted in my life,” I reply with a nod.

  “Knew you’d like it; everyone always does. Unless they’re one of those stupid vegans.” He snorts. “Don’t got no business being in my life if you don’t like burgers.” He adds with a nod. “Tell ya what, seein’ as this is the first time you’ve had one, it’s on the house.”

  “On the house?” I ask, not understanding why the burger would be on the house.

  He laughs and claps a hand on his belly. “You really are something, you know that? On the house! Free of charge! You just enjoy that, and don’t worry about havin’ to pay me.” He smiles.

  My face feels hot as my cheeks flush red. I feel like such an idiot, though I’m grateful the man finds my clear naivety amusing rather than irritating. I know absolutely nothing of what the world is now, and it’s evident to this man, as well as to me.

  These people are idiots, all of them. I can’t believe my luck; I’d expected to spend my time running and hiding, fighting for my life, but these people are oblivious to what I really am. They don’t see me as a threat at all, and that’s going to work out in my favor.

  I can’t let my true colors show, not just yet, but at least it’s doubtful that these fools will even realize who or what I am, too dumb to realize what they’re looking at or why I don’t understand their simple phrases. I can’t forget my mission, either. There’s too much at stake, and my family needs me.

  I stay at the pub for an hour or so, letting the scruffy man chat me up while he’s still happy to do so, and while he’s content to feed me free food, having discovered that I know very little of their cuisine. It took a little stretching of the truth for him to understand that “where I came from,” we ate very plain foods, and that such exotic meals are foreign to me.

  He seems nice enough, but I’m also not naïve enough to believe that he won’t turn on me the moment he realizes what I am. For the brief moment that he’s useful, he’s fueling me and helping me regain my strength. He’s also teaching me a little more about this world, but beyond that, he’ll still end up dying by my hands when the time comes.

  After leaving the pub, I spend several hours wandering around the streets, looking for signs of something I’m not even sure exists anymore. I’m drained and ready to give up, the strain of being alone weighing heavily upon me as I walk these unfamiliar streets alone. My family has always been my backbone, my support system, and without them, I feel utterly lost.

  Knowing that they’re trapped down there, that they couldn’t get out when I did, tears at my heart, and I feel nauseous. The food I had just eaten churns in my stomach at the thought of my family clawing at the ground above their heads, trying to join me here on the surface.

  Everywhere I go, I’m surrounded by yellow coats and purple umbrellas, each person passing me by with either a smile or a look of disgust, but none of the hatred I expected to find when I pulled myself free from the Underworld. I’m not sure which look I prefer from these humans, the disgust or the absurd smile.

  I look up at the sky as I stand on a gross knoll beneath the trees, the rain splattering across my face. It’s growing dark now, the day finally turning to night, a chance for me to blend in, thanks to my dark skin. The moon and stars shine above me, glowing brightly in a way I’d almost forgotten, so used to the cavernous hell of molten lava that had been home for the last few millennia.

  The cold wind beats the rain down hard on me, and I shiver as it grips my skin with its icy fingers. I haven’t felt cold in so long that I’d forgotten what it feels like. It feels so peaceful out here, beautiful in its own way, making me feel as though my life is a little less chaotic…

  Chapter 3

  “Draven! Draven!” I wake up to the sound of my sister’s voice screaming my name, dragging me from the deep slumber I’d finally managed to get into.

  “Huh?” I whisper as I stir, blinking and looking around myself, still on the grassy knoll beneath the trees where I had stopped to look at the night sky above me. It’s still dark, and I look around frantically, finding nothing but the tree branches blowing in the wind, and the large drops of rain still falling from the sky.