Demonica (23 page)

“That’s her?”

“That’s all the Demon energy locked up inside of her,” said the Devil. “A little bit of an eye-sore, honestly. Don’t get me wrong though. I consider her quite the catch. Perhaps I’ll create a display case just for her. What do you think?”

I didn’t even bother to respond to this. I already knew what I needed to know now. Stepping on my own heels, I kicked off both of my shoes. I peeled my socks off

“Not so fast, Dante,” my father raised a cautionary stub. “There’s something you still ought to know.”

“Like what?” I said, biting back my own impatience.

“That’s no ordinary water. I like to call it liquid death. Demon or not, it will suck you dry. I’d give you about…a minute, perhaps? Give or take. And then it will devour your soul just like it’s devouring theirs. You’ll experience your worst memories and nightmares on an endless loop for the rest of eternity. I can only
imagine
what your warped little mind will produce.”

“I’m still going.”

“Oh, I know you are. The only reason I showed you this place is that I knew you’d be stupid enough to try and save her. And because I know you won’t make it out of there alive.”

I ignored him. Backed up for a running dive. Bolted forward.

I leapt and dove headfirst.

There was no tranquility in this moment. The moans and screams of damnation grew louder. Landing in the water was almost a relief, snuffing out their ghastly wailing.

Then the pain started. It was like something pricking at every pore of my body. Crawling under my skin.

I swam. Desperately. There was no time to spare.

There were just as many tormented souls underwater as there were floating on the surface. Their empty eyes stared past me, faces distorted in anguish. The way their red energy permeated through the water, it felt like swimming in blood. The bodies floating around me certainly didn’t help, spirit or not.

Monica’s blue energy was still just a mild drop in the distance. It was impossible to tell how far I still had to go. With all of these souls polluting the water, I could rarely see more than five feet in front of me. As I passed through one, yet another would be floating along, blocking the way.

I noticed my hands. They had discolored to an unhealthy shade of gray. Black veins spider-webbed out from my wrists to my fingers.

Not only my hands. My skin was on fire. But not like it was free-falling through the Hell Gate. This was the slow burn that went under the skin. It seeped through my flesh, and gripped my organs, and whispered to my heart: YOU ARE MINE.

Monica…
I conjured her image in my head. Her name was my driving force. I swam with something that transcended desperation and love. I swam because everything in the universe and existence depended on it.
Monica, Monica, Monica…

Dante?

The simple word entered my head—as if Monica spoke it with her own voice. I fumbled. But only for a second. I pushed myself back to speed, but kept my mind clear.

Dante, is that you?
Her voice entered my head again.

Monica!
I projected my thoughts.
Oh my God, Monica, yes, it’s me! You can hear me?

I can hear you…but I can’t see anything. It’s so dark here. So empty. Where am I? What’s happening to me?

I didn’t get it. How could I hear her thoughts?

No sooner did I ask myself the question, I knew the answer. It was because she had part of me inside of her. Seven parts of me. Seven parts that completed each other. Hell, she probably had more of me inside her soul than I did.

Where are you?
Monica asked.

I’m coming.
I promise.

My strength faltered. I glanced back to my hands. They were now withered and emaciated. Monica’s blue glow burned brighter than ever, but already I felt on the verge of unconsciousness. The red souls around me became a blur. My limbs lost their coordination, floating hopelessly at my side.

No. This wasn’t unconsciousness. I was about to die. Dammit. I frantically pushed myself with everything my dying body could muster.

Monica, talk to me,
I thought.
I need you talk to me.

About what?

Anything.

Monica discerned my desperation. She spoke with that calm urgency reserved only for those moments when something is about to end forever. I didn’t even know what she was saying. I couldn’t make sense of her words. My body was in the denouement—playing out its tragic Grand Finale before the curtains closed. It didn’t really matter. Her voice alone—even if it was just a thought in my head—was enough to keep me going.

I brushed past one final tormented soul. That’s when I saw her. Her blue lifeforce was a cloudless sky around her—somehow warded off every spirit within ten yards. Her lonely spirit floated by itself with unconscious elegance, bathed in sapphire. Her weightless hair opened around her face like rose petals in the sun. I was in such awe, I stopped swimming. Hell. As if I had any strength left. Instead, my sluggish momentum slowly carried me to her. I reached out to touch her. My dying hands made gentle contact with her transparent face rather than passing through. It took every last ounce of Demon power in me just to do that.

It was worth it.

My father was right. Thinking that I could save her and make it out of here alive was stupid. I barely had enough life to make it to her.

And yet…that was enough. I hadn’t saved her, but I sure as hell did everything I could. Dying alongside her didn’t seem bad at all. In fact…I could think of no other place I would rather die.

I kissed Monica one last time, hoping somehow, deep down, she could feel it.

***

I woke up.

That, in and of itself, was the biggest Goddamn shock of my life.

So when I realized I was somehow lying on water like a tangible surface, I found it relatively easy to accept. Of course! Why the hell not? Why wouldn’t I be lying on water?

With my face against the wet surface, I casually watched a school of goldfish swim beneath me.

It was a strange sensation pressing my hands firmly against the water and pushing myself upright. I glanced down at myself. Not only was my suit not wet from the water, but it was in mint condition. I glanced at my hands, front and back. Not a scratch.

Only now did I finally take in my scenery. Not that there was much to take in. Water stretched for as far I could see. Beyond the horizon stretched a cloudless sky. I had never seen so much blue in my life.

“You’re awake.”

I whipped around. There stood an all-too-familiar face staring back at me—a face that should have been dead. He had the same curly brown hair and stupid smile as ever. The only thing missing were the glasses.

It was a damn shame, because I really wanted to break them in one glorious punch to the face.

“Leviathan,” I growled.

“No, not Leviathan,” he said. “You can just call me Levi.”

“Levi? You…you’re not a Demon?”

“My spirit was set free the moment Monica killed Leviathan. You have no idea how good it feels to not be sitting backseat while a Demon makes all of my decisions for me.”

“Yeah…” I mumbled faintly. “So…where are we? Is this…?”

“Just follow me,” said Levi, still smiling. “I’ll take you to someone who will explain everything.”

Levi turned and started across the water before I could object. I reluctantly followed. The water rippled gently beneath our footsteps. Wherever he was taking me, it didn’t appear to be anywhere close. The water stretched on seemingly forever.

At least until a mahogany desk mysteriously appeared in our path. Only a second or two later, a figure was seated behind it. As we approached him, I noticed he was wearing a white suit and tie. He was broad shouldered, square-jawed, and with hair buzzed into a crew cut. I knew him from somewhere.

Amon’s party at Hexham Manor? Wasn’t he one of the jocks?

“Dante!” he said. He stood up from behind his desk. “Our man of the hour.” He nodded appreciatively to my guide. “Thank you, Levi.”

Levi nodded back. In that very moment, he vanished. Apparently appearing and disappearing was a thing here.

“What is this place?” I said. “And why’s it so…” I glanced down at the rippling surface beneath my feet, “…wet?”

I already had my hunch. In fact, it was obvious. Without even giving him a chance to respond, I blurted out my suspicion.

“This isn’t Heaven, is it?”

The figure in white smiled. “Heaven is such a contrived term. Let’s just say that
this
is a good place. And believe it or not, your mind is actually helping to shape it. I guess all that swimming might’ve gotten to your head, eh?”

He knew about that? This was way too weird.

“Who are you?”

Walking around his desk, he extended his hand and embraced me in a friendly handshake. “My name is Eli.”

“You were one of Monica’s classmates,” I said, almost accusingly. “
What
are you?”

Eli beamed at my reaction, clearly unaffected. “I’m a Seraphim. Although that’s a somewhat ambiguous title. It might be more helpful to think of me as…a guardian angel of sorts.”

“Guardian angel?” I said. It felt like I was reciting the punchline to a bad joke. “You just sat there in that quarantined school while everyone died!”

“Well that’s not entirely true. I had a fling with Zoey.”

“What?” Was this bastard mocking me? I was seconds from smashing his smug head through the desk. “What the hell does that have to do with anything?”

“Everything! For starters, it put me in Zoey’s circle of trust. Of course, I had to pretend to be in love with Monica too. That was essential. Who better to trust trying to save your best friend? I was able to help her hide Monica while she was in her coma after killing Sloth. Together, we were able to mask her presence from five other Demons in that very same building. No human could have done that alone, I can promise you that. Not even a witch like Zoey. But with just the right amount of divine intervention—”

“But she’s dead now,” I said. Every breath I took was fire in my throat. “You saved her just so she could die? Is that what you’re telling me?”

My fury was suddenly drowned in despair. She was dead. I had done everything to try and save her. And despite all of my efforts, she was gone. I couldn’t bring her back.

“You couldn’t have done anything to save her?” I said.

“Of course I
could
have saved her,” said Eli. “But that wouldn’t have given you the opportunity to try and save her yourself, now would it?”

“What does that matter? I
couldn’t
save her. I tried, and I couldn’t. You bastard! You’re the goddamn guardian angel here, aren’t you?”

Eli shook his head, amused. He leaned back, resting on the edge of his desk. “You really don’t get it, do you?”

“Get what?”

“I’m not
her
guardian angel,” said Eli. “I’m yours.”

Well shit. Now I’d heard everything.

“Huh?” I said. Because, like, what the hell else was I supposed to say?

“Yep.”

“W-w-w-what?”

“I know, right?”

“But…you saved her that one time! You said it yourself!”

“Being a guardian angel for someone also means protecting the people they love when they are unable to. In a sense, it is the greatest protection we can provide.”

“But…that’s ridiculous! I’m a Demon!”

“No, Dante, you
were
a Demon. But sixteen years ago, all the Demon was ripped out of you. Demons don’t risk their lives to save the people they love. Honestly, we don’t know what you are. But whatever you are, you’re good.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Not a Demon? And this asshole was my guardian angel?

“What’s all this about anyway?” I said. “You didn’t bring me here just to blow your stupid guardian angel cover, did you?”

Eli chuckled. “That’s what I like about you, Dante. Always cutting straight to the chase.” Walking back around the desk, he seated himself. He then slid a drawer open, removed a folder, and laid it on the desk. “I have an offer for you.”

He slid the folder across the desk.

“An offer?”

“Like a job.”

“A job offer?” I eyed the folder skeptically. “For what?”

“We would like to employ you as a Seraphim,” said Eli.

“Not interested.”

“I think you would change your mind if you were to look into this particular position,” said Eli. He interlocked his fingers and nodded at the folder. “In fact, I can guarantee it.”

Eli and I held each other’s gazes for a long time. His calm expression was unflinching. Finally, I relented and opened the folder. The paperwork was instantly invisible to me. I instead found myself glued to the large photograph of Monica paper-clipped to the inside cover.

“We can bring her back,” said Eli. “In fact, we want to. She doesn’t belong in Hell. Her presence has caused quite the disturbance in the Ninth Circle. Ever since you reached Monica there, it’s caused…something of a chemical reaction, I guess you could say. Lucifer has all but lost control of the souls there. For the first time ever, he actually begged us to remove souls from Hell—namely, you two.”

“You mean…Monica’s alive?” I said.

This was that moment—when the next breath fills your lungs with life, when your eyes sponge every immaculate detail and yet they don’t see anything, when the whole world stops and stares at this small infinite miracle in the cosmos.

I felt dizzy.

“We don’t usually do this,” said Eli. “But in this particular case, we feel that it might be beneficial. We can reverse everything…except for those seven Remnants inside Monica. Those are there to stay. Even Hell couldn’t purge those out of her. However, with you as her guardian, that might be just the medicine she needs. They are, after all, fragments of
you
inside her.”

I couldn’t believe it. He said it, my brain processed it, there it was, right in front of me, and I couldn’t believe it.

“Yes,” I said. I blinked and breathed, and I think there was a tear running down my cheek, and Goddammit, I didn’t even care. “God, yes. YES! I’ll do it! When do I start?”