Any demon trouble?
No. I prayed he didn’t hear the lie in my voice. I felt guilty for lying, but telling him the truth would only make things worse for him.
Where’s the scroll?
It’s somewhere safe.
Dammit, Heven.
You know I can’t tell you. If I tell you, he’ll come get it. Then he’ll have no reason to leave you alive.
He wants me alive because he knows you’ll come back for me.
I felt the anger and the frustration in his words but didn’t know how to expel any of his worry. He was right. Beelzebub wasn’t keeping Sam alive for the scroll. He was keeping him alive for revenge.
Revenge against me.
Any sign of him yet?
No.
Right before Hecate imprisoned Sam, I tricked Beelzebub and pushed him into a scorching pit of flames. I thought that would be the end of him, but Hecate cackled and told me she couldn’t wait to see what my punishment would be for doing that to him. Apparently, the Prince of Demons was immortal. And powerful. And he wanted me to rule in hell with him.
I shuddered.
How’s Logan doing? Sam asked.
He seemed good this morning—better than usual.
Maybe he’s turning the corner.
Maybe.
We sat in silence for a few moments while I pondered what it would do to Sam if Logan didn’t recover from this.
Is it almost nighttime there yet?
My heart constricted as it always did when he asked me such questions. I can’t imagine how he’s been keeping sane these past days, shut up in a tiny cell without food, barely any water and no concept of time.
You keep me sane, he answered.
I wanted to kick myself for thinking such thoughts when he was close enough to my mind to hear them. I didn’t want him to know how sick all of this made me. I didn’t want him to worry about me at all.
It won’t be nighttime for a few hours, I said apologetically. I lived for the night too. Somehow being driven apart strengthened our Mindbond even more, well, that and when he went into my mind to break the thread that Beelzebub put there to get into my dreams. Somehow, our connection strengthened. On day three we figured out that we could link our minds as we were drifting off to sleep and it almost felt as if he was lying next to me.
I felt his disappointment and thought about taking a nap just so we could be close. I opened my eyes and sat forward in my chair, looking at the curtain that was pulled back around Mom’s bed. It concealed the other side of the room from view. I knew there was another bed there and I got up, telling myself that maybe a short nap wouldn’t take up too much time. I pulled the curtain back and went toward the bed, taking the sheet and blanket in my hand to pull back.
It took everything I had not to scream loudly when I looked down. There was a demon lying in the bed beneath the covers. He was flat… like a pancake. It’s the reason the covers hadn’t looked lumpy. His skin was as white as the sheets, but his eyes were coal black and looked like big round saucers in his flat head. I jumped back as his body began to fill with air… He looked like a balloon being filled at a helium tank.
I stumbled backward, grabbing onto the curtain that separated the room and I tripped, pulling part of the curtain off the track as I fell backward onto the floor.
The demon, fully inflated now, sprung up off the bed and towered over me. It had fingernails that looked like claws and I was alarmed that its eyes didn’t look any smaller now that its head was bigger. If anything, they looked wider and more empty than before.
He reached for me and I made a sound, yanking the curtain off the track even more and bringing it down over his head. He flailed around, making some grunting sounds as he tried to pull the sheet off. I looked around frantically for something to use as a weapon and saw something made of metal under the bed. I grabbed it as he flung the sheet away.
I sprang to my feet and swung, hitting him hard upside the head with the metal bedpan. The demon fell sideways onto the bed, and I took the opportunity to hit him again. He grabbed my arm when I tried to move away and pulled me closer. His nasty claws dug into my wrist, but I resisted the urge to cry out. The last thing I needed was to try to explain this to a nurse.
I yanked my arm, trying to get free, but it was no use. Looks like I was going to have to beat this guy’s inflated butt with one hand.
I grabbed the rolling table beside my mother’s bed and glided it across the floor, ramming it into the demon’s middle. The force of the hit caused him to release my arm. I grabbed a fork from the untouched tray, shoved the cart aside and threw myself at the demon. I landed on top of him, pinning him to the bed. Before he could do anything, I shoved the fork into his chest.
He disintegrated beneath me and I was left on a pile of fine dust.
I looked at the fork still clutched in my hand. It made a pretty good weapon. I stuck it in my back pocket—a girl in my situation never knew when she might need a fork.
I glanced over my shoulder at my mother. The commotion failed to wake her. I climbed off the bed and did my best to spread the demon dust around the room. Hopefully, someone would just think the room needed a good cleaning. There wasn’t much I could do about the curtain I ripped from the track in the ceiling, so I just folded it up and put it on the bed (which I remade).
What’s happening? Sam asked.
I tripped and fell and pulled the curtain out of the ceiling. I’m wondering what the nurses are going to think.
You tripped and fell? He asked. I could hear the skepticism in his voice.
Well, it was a little more involved than that, but it’s nothing to worry about.
Heven… Sam growled.
I thought about reassuring him that I was fine. But I don’t think he would be happy to hear I was using a fork as a weapon. I have to go before the nurse comes in here and wants to know what happened to her curtain.
I’ll be here if you want to talk.
Me too. I told him before spending a few more moments making sure the room was as close to the way it originally was, then kissed Mom’s cheek and grabbed my bag. This hospital room was closing in on me and I was putting her in danger by being here. Down at the information desk, a security guard stood flirting with the lady behind the desk. It was funny because he was old enough to be her father. When he saw me step off the elevator, he straightened and smiled. I smiled back and together we walked out into the sunshine. His patrol car was at the curb. It was some generic model that looked a lot like a police car except the words HOSPITAL SECURITY were emblazoned on the sides.
“How’s your mom doing, kid?” He always referred to me as ‘kid’ even though I told him my name several times. I thought this was funny, too, because the girl he was just flirting with was closer to my age than his. I bet he never called her kid.