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Authors: E. Van Lowe
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Satan’s tricks. There had been so many.
He appeared tired. He seemed smaller than I remembered. His jet black hair was disheveled in a way that made him seem sexier than I remembered, his eyes dreamier than I recalled. He smiled his smile. “I’m back,” he said and began moving toward me. There was a slowness to his gait.
He reached me and drew me into his arms. I closed my eyes, breathed him in, and was instantly transported to our stairwell, our kissing stairwell where we’d spent so much of our wayward time. This was not a trick. I knew it was Guy. Guy was holding me in his arms. I knew it. I wasn’t being fooled again. Guy had actually returned to me.
“Oh, Guy,” I said, my head buried in his chest, my fingers digging into his shoulders.
“Whatever it is, it’s okay,” he said softly. “I’m back now.”
I wagged my head slowly against his chest. “You’re too late,” I replied, as relentless tears fell from my eyes.
*
We didn’t go back inside the hospital. How could I? Once I’d regained my faculties, we drove to a small diner nearby. We sat in a booth in the back, Harrison seated across from Guy and me. I hadn’t seen Guy in so long, I wanted to sit across from him and look into his eyes. But that would have seemed strange.
The diner smelled of coffee and hamburgers and French fries. I was reminded of Erin and my favorite curly fries from the food court at the mall. Erin. I was wrong to think that she could have been behind Aunt Jaz’s illness.
“I feel like this is all my fault,” said Harrison.
On the ride over, I’d told them much of what had happened since I woke up Tuesday morning. Harrison banged his fists against the steering wheel. He felt he’d let me down again. He, too, had been fooled by Satan with the demon uprising that took him away to Australia last summer. The uprising was a ploy to get him out of the way since Harrison was a demon tracker. No way could the demon Orthon have fooled me for so long if Harrison had been around. He felt like an idiot for falling for it.
“This is no one’s fault,” said Guy, seated next to me in the booth, his leg brushing against mine. “Satan is a master strategist.” He looked into my eyes and smiled. “But he won’t get you. You’re my girl. Right?” His smile widened.
A few days ago I would have reveled in his words. Yet, how could I now, knowing that Satan had just manipulated me? I was growing closer to Satan by the minute. My hand had been resting atop Guy’s on the table. I gave his a gentle squeeze. That was the best he could get from me. I wanted to be Guy’s girl, but I was Satan’s girl now.
“This is a bad idea,” I said. I removed my hand from Guy’s.
“What?” he asked.
“This!” I said, gesturing toward him and Harrison. “If only it had actually been you who rescued me last summer and not Orthon. My life would be so different now.”
I looked into Guy’s eyes. They flashed anger. “That demon needs to be destroyed.”
“Agreed,” said Harrison in his sexy, Australian lilt.
I stood up. “I can’t do this right now.”
“What?” Guy asked again, and I could see anguish replacing the anger that had loomed in his eyes. He reached for my hand and I pulled it away. “Megan!”
“I can’t love you anymore, Guy. The die has been cast and loving you will only make it harder when I have to go.”
He looked at Harrison, confused, and then back at me. “What do you mean go ?”
“Don’t you get it? I tried to kill Aunt Jaz, Guy. Yesterday I nearly hurt a roomful of my classmates. Who’ll be next—Maudrina? My mother? You?” The words were dust on my tongue.
“Guy is an angel,” Harrison said, raising his voice in appeal. “Angels have ways of fixing things mortals can’t.”
“Can he fix that Satan’s power is growing inside me? Can he stop it?”
Harrison looked to Guy who shook his head, a slight, woeful tic.
“That doesn’t mean all is lost,” said Harrison.
I gazed
He appeared tired. He seemed smaller than I remembered. His jet black hair was disheveled in a way that made him seem sexier than I remembered, his eyes dreamier than I recalled. He smiled his smile. “I’m back,” he said and began moving toward me. There was a slowness to his gait.
He reached me and drew me into his arms. I closed my eyes, breathed him in, and was instantly transported to our stairwell, our kissing stairwell where we’d spent so much of our wayward time. This was not a trick. I knew it was Guy. Guy was holding me in his arms. I knew it. I wasn’t being fooled again. Guy had actually returned to me.
“Oh, Guy,” I said, my head buried in his chest, my fingers digging into his shoulders.
“Whatever it is, it’s okay,” he said softly. “I’m back now.”
I wagged my head slowly against his chest. “You’re too late,” I replied, as relentless tears fell from my eyes.
*
We didn’t go back inside the hospital. How could I? Once I’d regained my faculties, we drove to a small diner nearby. We sat in a booth in the back, Harrison seated across from Guy and me. I hadn’t seen Guy in so long, I wanted to sit across from him and look into his eyes. But that would have seemed strange.
The diner smelled of coffee and hamburgers and French fries. I was reminded of Erin and my favorite curly fries from the food court at the mall. Erin. I was wrong to think that she could have been behind Aunt Jaz’s illness.
“I feel like this is all my fault,” said Harrison.
On the ride over, I’d told them much of what had happened since I woke up Tuesday morning. Harrison banged his fists against the steering wheel. He felt he’d let me down again. He, too, had been fooled by Satan with the demon uprising that took him away to Australia last summer. The uprising was a ploy to get him out of the way since Harrison was a demon tracker. No way could the demon Orthon have fooled me for so long if Harrison had been around. He felt like an idiot for falling for it.
“This is no one’s fault,” said Guy, seated next to me in the booth, his leg brushing against mine. “Satan is a master strategist.” He looked into my eyes and smiled. “But he won’t get you. You’re my girl. Right?” His smile widened.
A few days ago I would have reveled in his words. Yet, how could I now, knowing that Satan had just manipulated me? I was growing closer to Satan by the minute. My hand had been resting atop Guy’s on the table. I gave his a gentle squeeze. That was the best he could get from me. I wanted to be Guy’s girl, but I was Satan’s girl now.
“This is a bad idea,” I said. I removed my hand from Guy’s.
“What?” he asked.
“This!” I said, gesturing toward him and Harrison. “If only it had actually been you who rescued me last summer and not Orthon. My life would be so different now.”
I looked into Guy’s eyes. They flashed anger. “That demon needs to be destroyed.”
“Agreed,” said Harrison in his sexy, Australian lilt.
I stood up. “I can’t do this right now.”
“What?” Guy asked again, and I could see anguish replacing the anger that had loomed in his eyes. He reached for my hand and I pulled it away. “Megan!”
“I can’t love you anymore, Guy. The die has been cast and loving you will only make it harder when I have to go.”
He looked at Harrison, confused, and then back at me. “What do you mean go ?”
“Don’t you get it? I tried to kill Aunt Jaz, Guy. Yesterday I nearly hurt a roomful of my classmates. Who’ll be next—Maudrina? My mother? You?” The words were dust on my tongue.
“Guy is an angel,” Harrison said, raising his voice in appeal. “Angels have ways of fixing things mortals can’t.”
“Can he fix that Satan’s power is growing inside me? Can he stop it?”
Harrison looked to Guy who shook his head, a slight, woeful tic.
“That doesn’t mean all is lost,” said Harrison.
I gazed
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