I awoke to Mikayla shaking me, muttering nervously about Father.
He wanted to see me in his study.
I groggily dressed into a red gown and rubbed the sleep from my eyes. I grew more alert when I saw the look on my sister's face. She was playing with her hair and her eyes never lingered too long on any object. She hadn't looked that anxious in centuries.
"He's furious, Melanie. You better have a good reason as to why you were gone so long." She whispered, hands on my shoulders as we went down the stairs.
I didn't say anything, my stomach twisting itself into a knot with disquiet. Father's temper was volatile and unpredictable. I was likely not to get out of this unscathed.
Mikayla grabbed my hand, squeezed it once, and swiftly retreated back upstairs. I walked down the hallway to the right of the staircase, which only had one door.
Father's study was large and immaculate, everything perfectly in place. His papers were stacked neatly on his desk, books organized in alphabetical order. His oak door was closed and I placed my hand on the brass knob. I felt my fear rise, certain he could probably smell it by now. I lifted my other hand to knock, steeling myself.
"Enter." He didn't sound any angrier than usual, though that meant little.
With a deep breath, I turned the knob and slipped inside his study. I closed the door and leaned against it, my hands behind my back.
"You wished to see me, Father?" I queried, my voice soft.
He was seated at his desk, signing his name on a sheet of paper. He didn't look up right away, but I saw the way his left hand clenched itself around the quill. With an impatient gesture, he beckoned me closer. My back leaving the safety of the door, I stepped forward, my arms coming round to hug my midsection.
"Yes. I was wondering where my truant daughter ran off to yesterday. Someone else was curious as well. Would you like to know who?" He was speaking in a monotonous staccato, each word carefully enunciated.
"Who?" Before I had even fully gotten the word out, Father was in front of me, his hands gripping my shoulders painfully. I bit my lip from crying out in pain when he shook me once.
"The King. He was very curious as to where his bride-to-be was, to the point he had some guards look for you. Where were you?" Despite his aggressive body language and tone, he wasn't yelling yet, but I could tell he longed to.
"T-the Human World; I-I-I had a c-contract!" I said quickly.
Father's face went blank and he freed my arms. I opened my mouth to continue and he slapped me soundly across the face. I bit down on my tongue, blood filling my mouth as my head snapped to the side. Tears pricked my eyes and I placed my hand on my stinging cheek. My shaking fingers came away bloody.
"Don't lie to me! What were you really doing?!" He screamed, his large frame towering over me.
I cowered, backing up until the door stopped my retreat. "I-I'm not lying, it was a d-difficult contract!"
He lifted his hand up to strike me again and I flinched, shutting my eyes. The blow didn't come and I dared to open one eye. Father was glaring daggers at me, his eyes alight with rage. I stared at my feet.
"You're such a coward. Everything about you is craven; the way you walk, the way you fight. I can't believe you're even a demon! You can't even complete a contract in a timely fashion!" He whirled away from me.
I breathed heavily, my hand fondling for the knob. I squeezed the knob once my hand found it. My heart was pounding like I had run for miles and the urge to flee was powerful.
"What the King sees in you I've no idea, but no matter. Get out of my sight; I don't want to see you for the remainder of the day." He spat over his shoulder.
I turned the knob and sprinted out of his study. I didn't stop until I was outside, leaning against Hound's kennel. I slumped to the ground, panting and tears stinging my eyes. My face felt sore and my tongue throbbed. Hound was whining softly, sensing my distress, and I felt his damp nose press against the back of my neck. I laid down, resting my aching cheek against the cool grass as I willed my body to stop shaking.
For the first time in a long while I wished Mother was there. She would comfort me when Father got angry with me, sometimes even taking the brunt of his fury. If I closed my eyes I could feel her soft hand against my cheek. The cut didn't hurt as much when I imagined it.
"My lovely child, my poor Melly." I could almost hear her coo, her calming lavender scent wafting into my nose.
"Mama..." I mumbled sleepily.
"Didn't go well, huh?" Her scent and hand disappeared and my eyes snapped open. I flinched and sat up swiftly, gazing up at Zane, who was staring at me indifferently. My face burned when I realized he might have heard me say Mother's name.
"Come to gloat?" I looked away from him.
He sat beside me and inveigled my head into his lap. "No. I take it he wasn't pleased with your answer."
I placed my hand on his thigh beside my head and curled up best I could. In my head, Father's furious face flashed and I shivered. "He called me an excuse for a demon, saying I should have completed my contract in a timely fashion."
"You certainly are an enigma." He agreed. I refrained from snorting: that was the closest thing to a compliment my brother had ever graced me with. He leaned back on his hands for a moment to stare at me.
"Let me see your face."
Reluctantly, I sat up and faced my brother. His face and eyes gave no indication to what he was thinking as he grabbed my chin, turning my head this way and that.
"It's swollen. He got you with his ring, I see. Better hope the King isn't going to pop by; he probably won't like seeing you sporting that." He released me and I settled my head back in his lap.
"Maybe he'll lose interest in me that way." It hurt to move my tongue to pronounce words. It was healing slowly.
Zane's hand came down on my head. I was pleasantly surprised when he began to stroke my hair, running his fingers through the strands slowly and gently. "I wouldn't count on it. It's a shame Father didn't think it through and hit you with his other hand."
Father's ring contained silver, the one metal demons could not heal quickly from. I'd be walking around with this cut for the next couple weeks.
While it wasn't rare for him to strike us, it certainly was uncommon for him to hit us with his ring hand. Especially when it was me or Mikayla. He didn't want to ruin our "pretty faces," he once said. Zane, on the other hand, had several little scars on his face and body from the ring. He could afford a few scars: it made him all the more handsome to the ladies. Not that he could court anyone other than Mikayla now. I was the only one of my siblings allowed a "choice" in who I would marry, but now even that was gone.
"...I wish Mother was here." I whispered sadly, thinking of my illusion from earlier.
Zane's hand paused before it resumed its gentle stroking. He didn't say anything for a bit, then grumbled rather bitterly, "What does it matter? He whacked her around more than us. She wouldn't be able to protect you."
I thought of Joel then, though it disquieted me to do so. Was he the reason why she was killed? Certainly, if I was married to a man like Father, he would drive me into the arms of another. I wondered if Zane knew about the reason why Mother was executed. "Zane? Do you know why Lucifer killed Mother?"
"We aren't supposed to talk about it. Father will beat you worse if he heard you." He said after a heartbeat. He stopped stroking my hair altogether.
"Do you?" I urged, rolling onto my back so I could stare at him. He looked uncomfortable, his hand reaching to rub the back of his neck.
He sighed, "No. It had to have been something bad. Why are you talking about her all of a sudden?"
Again, I was hit with this urge to be honest with my brother and tell him about our bastard sibling. I thought better of it, though.
"...No reason." I lied.
He remained by my side for a little while longer before getting up, knocking my head out of his lap. "I need to get going; I have Royal Guard training to do."
I nodded wordlessly, watching as he walked off. He walked like Father: stiff arms, shoulders back. I stayed there for about five minutes after he left before getting up myself. I went back into the house, ignoring the horrified looks the servants gave me when they saw my face, and locked myself in my room.
I took a quick bath, changing into my most comfortable clothes; a red and white frock. My reflection caught my eye and I slowly turned my head to study the wound, almost smashing the mirror when I saw the state of my face.
The left side of my face was inflamed, Father's ring having left an imprint on the skin. The skin beneath my eye was beginning to bruise and I had no doubt I would have a black eye by tomorrow morning. My tongue had healed, but that gave little relief to the pain of moving my face. When I prodded the flesh, it felt warm. I would need to clean it to prevent infection. I clenched my fist, glaring heatedly at my reflection, wishing I could burn a hole through it. My eyes flashed red. I decided it would be best not to look at my reflection for the duration of this wound.
I sat on my bed and looked around. Aside from my bookcase, I had no furniture and the walls were sparse with only a single portrait.
It was of my family, about a couple hundred years before Mother's death. Father and Mother are seated in large velvet chairs, their faces somber. Zane, who was a little more than three thousand years older than me and my sister, looked to be in his late twenties. He was standing beside Father's chair, his hands behind his back and his hair slicked back from his face. Mikayla and I were about three hundred years in the portrait, physically looking like toddlers. She was seated in Father's lap, thumb in her mouth, and I was leaning against Mother, playing with her hair.
I imagined Joel had long since been born and wondered just how old he was. I couldn't recall a time where Mother disappeared for a suspiciously long time, so I could assume he was much older than me. I wondered if Zane remembered anything, but found myself unable to ask him. He would get too leery.
Staring at Mother's face in the portrait was beginning to hurt me. Mikayla and I looked like her, Mikayla more so than I. All I had of her was her hair, but with Father's texture, and her lips. I swallowed thickly and blinked fast, looking away from the portrait. There was a knock on my door. I got up and opened my door a crack, ready to tell whoever it was to go away.
It was one of the servant girls, a mousy Human-Turned-Demon. She stood there, holding a plate of souls, and clumsily curtsied. Her voice, heavy with an accent, said, "Miss, I was told to bring your supper to you."
"I'm not hungry." I mumbled, closing the door again.
I heard her shy protest, but she didn't dare knock again. A few moments later, her footsteps walked down the hall. I had just been about to return to my bed when the familiar tugging and echoing words came.
Rayi, I summon thee to do my bidding.
I groaned at the same time Rayi did. What a time to have a contract. Begrudgingly, I said, "Open," and entered the Human World.
I was fully prepared to go through the motions and instead got the shock of a lifetime when I saw Will standing there, grinning idiotically. He was dressed in a black tunic with the sleeves rolled up, revealing draconic tattoos snaking up his arms. On his legs he had brown trousers and leather boots. His hair was in a messy braid, similar to the way it was when I saw him the night before, stubborn strands jutting out.
"Will? How did-"
"Neat, huh? Turns out Angels can summon demons!" He saw my face and his fell, replaced with a stern expression.
"Melanie, what happened to your face? It wasn't like that when I saw you last night..." He came over, fingers tenderly brushing against it.
I recoiled from the pain and he yanked his hand back, looking at me apologetically. "...My absence was noticed. I explained to Father it was a long contract, but he was furious because I kept the King waiting."
Will snarled, cupping my unhurt cheek. "Bastard; raising a hand to his own child. What does it matter to the king if you were or weren't there?"
I bit my lip and looked down, forgetting that he didn't know of Lin's desire to marry me. "The King wants to wed me."
I felt him stiffen and I peeked up at him. He looked livid and he shook his head. "No. No, absolutely not. You are not marrying him."
I stepped back from him, asking, "What can you do about it? It's either him or my brother and I'd rather not be stuck with Zane any longer than I have to."
"Nice to see you don't even consider me an option." Will stated dryly, crossing his arms.
I gaped at him, incredulous. "You don't honestly want to marry me."
"How do you know?" He retorted, closing the distance between us. "I care about you and I despise the thought of you being with anyone other than me."
I shook my head. "We don't love each other! I'd feel like I trapped you; what if you meet an angel and fall in love with her? And that's not even considering the fact that we're enemies!"
I saw him set his jaw, his eyes hardening with determination. He wasn't about to change his mind anytime soon. I sighed and rubbed my temples, feeling the beginning of a headache coming on.
"Look, nothing is happening anytime soon, so let's both think about it...okay?"
He smirked cockily, obviously writing off my resignation as a victory in his book, and complied. I looked past him and saw he had summoned me in front of his house. It looked even prettier in the summer with vines creeping along its wooden skin.
"C'mon; I think I have some medicine for your face." I let Will take my hand and pull me toward the house.
I closed the door with my foot before following him upstairs to the bathroom, which I hadn't seen yet. It had white tiles with a dark red lining around each square. The tub was made of porcelain, with golden claw feet. It was in the middle of the room and looked rather large. The counter was made of mahogany with an elegant mirror with a wooden dragon circling it. Under the counter were a couple drawers, most likely holding medicine and soap. The walls were cream colored and there was a large stained glass window across from the door.
Will patted the counter top, encouraging me to sit on it. I obediently hopped up, swinging my feet a little as he bent down and opened one of the drawers.
"I don't know much about medicine, but this should help." He grunted as he stood, one of his knees cracking as he did so, and held up a small jar filled with a white salve.
He coated his index and middle fingers with the medicine and carefully applied it to my wound. I winced at first, but the salve was cool and soothing on my poor skin.
"How come this didn't heal anyway?" He asked, his eyes intent on the task at hand.
"My father struck me with his ring hand and his ring is made out of silver. That's the only metal that inhibits a demon's natural healing abilities." I answered softly.
"Does your fiancé know?" I made a face at "fiancé." Will shot me a pointed look.
"No, but I imagine he wouldn't be too happy about it. If I'm lucky, it might scar. Then maybe Lin will leave me alone."
Will snorted, looking mildly amused. "As if a little scar would make you any less attractive."
My face flushed a light pink and I smiled shyly, my face hurting from the motion. He smiled back and screwed the lid back on the jar. He grabbed a towel and wiped his fingers clean before putting the jar back in the drawer.
"There; that should keep it from getting infected." He held his hand out for me to take as I jumped down from the counter.
"Thank you." I said, turning to briefly look at my reflection in the mirror. It certainly didn't look as angry as it did just a few minutes ago. The risk of infection was gone, too.
"It's a special herb that grows only in God's garden. Your cheek won't heal immediately, but it's better than nothing." He explained.
I nodded and grabbed his hand, kissing his palm. His crimson eyes softened as I released his hand.
"I should send you back; don't want your father to notice you missing again." He murmured.
I sighed, but agreed. "You know the saying?"
"Yeah: Rayi, I send thee back to the depths of Hell." He faded out of sight as I was surrounded by the familiar blackness.
My room emerged and I staggered slightly when my feet hit the floor. I closed my eyes as I regained my bearings, feeling a little nauseous from being transported. Normally, I had contracts every few months; never two within a span of two days. I was beginning to feel the effects, my body feeling taxed.
"Another contract?" I whirled around at the sound of Father's voice, my heart hammering.
He was sitting at my desk, an unimpressed look on his face. "Really, you didn't sense me? You must be tired. Out of Zane and Mikayla, you have the best sensing abilities."
I looked away from him, focusing on my bare feet. "I-is there something you wanted, Father?"
I heard him stand and found myself tensing my shoulders. I clasped my hands tightly together to keep them from trembling. Father's black boots stopped just in my line of sight. I withheld a whimper when he grabbed my chin, forcing me to look up at him. I didn't look him in the eyes, focusing on the space to the left of his face. He turned my head, observing his handiwork.
"...I will tell Lin you have fallen ill and will not be able to see him for the next two weeks." He said remorselessly.
I didn't say anything, biting my lip to keep it from quivering. He released my chin and I ducked my head down again. He commented, "You're trembling. Are you truly that scared of me, girl?"
"No." I muttered almost inaudibly.
I cried out in alarm when he smacked his open palm against the wall directly beside my head, my head flying up to stare wide-eyed at him. His face was blank but his eyes were burning.
"I do hate it when you mumble. Anyone could see you are scared; your fear is pungent. You are so cowardly. If I had known you would be this way, I would have begged Lucifer to kill you in your mother's place." He said callously, walking past me to the door.
When he left, I fell to my knees, wrapping my arms around my torso. I ignored the first tear as it dripped from my chin.
Hey. I sniffed and angrily wiped at my eyes as Rayi's voice echoed inside my head. It was the first time I had heard her since yesterday.
"What?" I asked aloud.
Let me out; your face will heal twice as fast if I'm in control of our body. You'll get to rest. She sounded sympathetic, something that was unusual coming from her.
I was tempted to decline, but the idea of "sleeping" for two weeks sounded too good to pass up on.
"Alright." I whispered before I felt my consciousness fade.
ns 15.158.61.52da2
