Death's Daughter Part 21

And besides that, I had experienced the whole weird "b.u.t.terfly and unicorn" euphoria once once before . . . when Runt and I had gone to Sea Verge through the random doorway in h.e.l.l that Runt had "found" after Jarvis saved me from the crazy detective from the Psychical Bureau of Investigations. before . . . when Runt and I had gone to Sea Verge through the random doorway in h.e.l.l that Runt had "found" after Jarvis saved me from the crazy detective from the Psychical Bureau of Investigations.

Now I knew it wasn't just dumb luck that had returned us safely back to Sea Verge that day . . . It was my h.e.l.lhound puppy, Runt. It was my h.e.l.lhound puppy, Runt.

It only stood to reason that after our day of fruitless wandering in the Devil's dominion, Runt, who was probably trying to kill two birds with one stone, had opened a wormhole in the middle of nowhere to put a kibosh on my whining and save us at the same time.

Unhappiness was.h.i.+ng through me, I cursed Runt under my breath-dumb dog-as I appreciated exactly exactly where my- where my-dumb dog-h.e.l.lhound puppy had sent me: right back to where she'd opened the wormhole in the first place. I mean, I knew I could be annoying at times-and that had definitely been an annoying at times annoying at times kind of experience-but there was no reason for her to send me back to the never-ending deserts of h.e.l.l! kind of experience-but there was no reason for her to send me back to the never-ending deserts of h.e.l.l!

What a poor excuse for a supernatural being I'd turned out to be, I thought to myself sadly. I thought to myself sadly. My mother was right: I really My mother was right: I really was was just a good-for-nothing mortal wannabe! I was stuck in h.e.l.l and I didn't even have enough magical talent to get myself out again. just a good-for-nothing mortal wannabe! I was stuck in h.e.l.l and I didn't even have enough magical talent to get myself out again.

"G.o.d, I'm pathetic," I said out loud, and before I knew what was happening, I was crying. I felt like a big, fat baby as I let the tears run down my face, but I was helpless to stop them. If anyone had happened upon me at that moment, they would've seen a sniveling, snotty mess of a person curled up in a ball in the sand.

It was true. I really was was pretty pathetic. pretty pathetic.

Letting the depression I'd kept at bay until now finally settle over me-and regardless of the really gnarly sunburn I was totally condemning my skin to-I closed my eyes and let myself drift.

I decided I deserved it . . . pathetic or not, the human psyche can handle only so much. Then it needs a break.

I've found that when you deny your body sleep, it invariably gets you into situations where you can't help but but fall asleep-kind of like some weird sort of "body" payback. fall asleep-kind of like some weird sort of "body" payback.

Like you "somehow" find yourself invited to see a really long, really boring, black-and-white foreign film that has c.r.a.ppy subt.i.tles that've been superimposed over the bottom of the picture in a white white font instead of font instead of yellow yellow , so that there's no way you can read them even if you wanted to-which you probably don't, but that's beside the point. You can't help yourself. Sleep is just gonna happen whether you want it to or not. It's a given. , so that there's no way you can read them even if you wanted to-which you probably don't, but that's beside the point. You can't help yourself. Sleep is just gonna happen whether you want it to or not. It's a given.

I guess that was what my emotional outburst was all about: a way for my body to make me go to sleep so it could restore its energy without me feeling guilty about it.

I have no idea how long I was out, but when I woke up, my nose felt all warm and melty when I touched it, kind of like a quesadilla, and I had a thin layer of salt pasted to my upper lip where all the sweat had evaporated. I wiped off my "salt sweat" mustache and yawned, my mind a blank as I tried to remember where I was and why everything was covered in sand. Then everything came back to me, and instead of feeling refreshed and ready to tackle any obstacle, I just remembered how c.r.a.ppy my family had treated me, and all I wanted to do was stick my head in the sand and hide.

No, I wasn't a total total coward. coward.

Not.

I guess what I really wanted was something to deaden the empty feeling that had taken up residence in my heart while I slept.

What I wanted, I decided, was a drink drink.

Now, I'm no alcoholic, but I do enjoy a little frou-frou girly c.o.c.ktail every now and then like any other red-blooded American gal. And after all I'd been through recently, I didn't think it was wrong to want to drown my sorrows in a little grain-alcohol daze.

Even though I knew the likelihood of finding a bar in the middle of the desert section of h.e.l.l was nil, I couldn't get the image of something neon green and alcoholic out of my brain. I still don't know what possessed me, but I was suddenly struck with the urge to close my eyes and ask the universe to give me a little "pick-me-up."

So I did.

"I'd like one Midori Sour, please."

It was so quiet in the vast emptiness of h.e.l.l that hearing my own voice out loud kind of shocked me. What shocked me even more more was the ice-cold Midori Sour I suddenly found in my hand. was the ice-cold Midori Sour I suddenly found in my hand.

"Holy c.r.a.p!" I yelped as I nearly dropped the large, cut-crystal gla.s.s of neon green liquid into the sand.

Note that I said "nearly."

Once I was sure the drink was real-and not some weird h.e.l.l-born mirage-I drank that melon-flavored concoction down so fast it made my head ache. Needless to say, it took the edge off quite nicely.

Actually, it did a lot more than just just take the edge off. take the edge off.

Let me preface this by reiterating that I am not not a big drinker. It usually takes me about a c.o.c.ktail and a half to get all giddy and slightly wasted, and then I stop drinking so I can just enjoy the buzz. But I guess when the drink consumed is as strong as what I'd just gulped down, well, let's just say a single beverage a big drinker. It usually takes me about a c.o.c.ktail and a half to get all giddy and slightly wasted, and then I stop drinking so I can just enjoy the buzz. But I guess when the drink consumed is as strong as what I'd just gulped down, well, let's just say a single beverage more more than sufficed. than sufficed.

"Eeeerrp . . ." I burped loudly, a little of the Midori's melony goodness coming back up into my mouth. Luckily, I was able to keep the rest of my beverage of choice down, but it did take a supreme effort of will. My stomach was I burped loudly, a little of the Midori's melony goodness coming back up into my mouth. Luckily, I was able to keep the rest of my beverage of choice down, but it did take a supreme effort of will. My stomach was not not a happy camper-there was some a happy camper-there was some definite definite hostility coming from my digestive tract. hostility coming from my digestive tract.

"Eeeeeeeeeerrrp!"

Another burp hit me square in the solar plexus, this one lasting about ten seconds longer than the one before it-and kind of burning my esophagus as it clawed its way up my throat. Coughing, I lay down and closed my eyes, waiting for the waves of nausea to pa.s.s.

I had no intention of throwing up if I could help it. I mean, seriously, I'd been through about a dozen wormholes since Jarvis had fetched me from Manhattan, and if they hadn't made me hurl, then there was no way I was gonna let one one Midori Sour do me in. Midori Sour do me in.

It was the principle of the thing.

Besides, I hated throwing up, specifically because of a very visceral memory I had of my sister Thalia throwing up on me in the back of my mother's Volvo Station Wagon when I was ten.

My mother had taken us to a carnival in Providence-Clio and I had had a blast, riding all the rides and eating everything we could stuff in our faces-but Thalia, who was about fourteen at the time, had decided that she was too fat, and hadn't eaten anything the whole day. I think she'd maybe looked looked at a strawberry at breakfast. at a strawberry at breakfast.

Anyway, we'd only just just piled into the back of the station wagon after a pleasant day of family fun when Thalia leaned over and tapped me on the shoulder. As I turned to ask her what she wanted, she opened her mouth and, her braces glinting like diamond studs in the afternoon sunlight, threw up in my lap. piled into the back of the station wagon after a pleasant day of family fun when Thalia leaned over and tapped me on the shoulder. As I turned to ask her what she wanted, she opened her mouth and, her braces glinting like diamond studs in the afternoon sunlight, threw up in my lap.

Wanna talk about nasty? Thalia had absolutely Thalia had absolutely nothing nothing in her stomach-which you'd think would be in her stomach-which you'd think would be better better than, like, say a regurgitated Happy Meal-but this was somehow much, much than, like, say a regurgitated Happy Meal-but this was somehow much, much worse worse. The thing everyone likes to forget about throw-up is just how terrible it smells-and pure, undiluted stomach acid is in a category by itself. You can forget about maintaining any any sense of decorum when someone heaves sense of decorum when someone heaves that that stuff up in your lap. stuff up in your lap.

When that horrible regurgitated stomach juice smell hit my nostrils, well, there was nothing I could do to stop myself from joining in the fun. Pretty soon it was like an old-school Roman vomitorium right there in our backseat.

Needless to say, my mother was not thrilled. It was a long time before I was allowed back in her car without a plastic bag in my pocket. The weird thing was that everyone thought it was my fault, that I'd eaten too much candy and c.r.a.p and made myself sick. And no matter what I said to the contrary, no one believed me . . .

I'd forgotten about that part.

It's interesting. When you start counting up all the bad things in your life that you've tried to repress, you find that there are a lot more of them than you realized, and you also discover that they really don't like like to stay buried-especially the hideous ones. They love to pop back up into your brain when you least expect it, and wreak havoc on your psyche. to stay buried-especially the hideous ones. They love to pop back up into your brain when you least expect it, and wreak havoc on your psyche.

As I lay in the sand, my eyes closed firmly against the drunken nausea I'd inflicted on myself, I let my mind reflect on exactly exactly how my older sister had lied to my mother that day, letting her think that I'd been the bad kid, the one who couldn't do anything right. how my older sister had lied to my mother that day, letting her think that I'd been the bad kid, the one who couldn't do anything right.

Time and time again it had happened, but instead of remembering it, I'd shoved the bitter feelings so far down into my memory that they'd almost disappeared.

But they've never quite quite gone away, gone away, I thought to myself. I thought to myself. They're always there, just below the surface, waiting for an opportunity to be remembered again. They're always there, just below the surface, waiting for an opportunity to be remembered again.

For some unknown reason my zombified memories had decided that now now was the perfect time to return from the dead and give me a good memory thras.h.i.+ng. was the perfect time to return from the dead and give me a good memory thras.h.i.+ng.

"What a b.i.t.c.h," I said out loud, my lips moving without my brain telling them to. "My sister was such a-hiccup-b.i.t.c.h. Why didn't anyone-hiccup-else but Clio ever see that?"

It was like I'd released the memory mother lode, but the only things that wanted to come out were hiccups hiccups-and the pesky little things were unstoppable. I must've spent the next five minutes trying every trick in the book to make them stop. I held my breath until I almost pa.s.sed out; I counted from one to ten backward. Nothing worked.

Just as I was getting frustrated enough to stick my head in the sand and suffocate myself in a desperate bid to end my hiccup misery, I felt a hand on my shoulder.

"Argh!!" I screamed, leaping to my feet and thrusting my fists out blindly in front of me in self-defense.

"Hey there! Hold on a minute. I'm not gonna hurt you-"

When I saw who it was, I started punching even harder, hoping I'd knock a nose off or poke an eye out. I was like a wildcat, my hands two taloned weapons looking to rip something apart. My fists found their mark, and I could feel my fingers almost breaking as they tried to pound themselves deep inside my opponent's flesh.

"Ow! That hurts!"

The last person I wanted to see right then was the stupid Devil's protege, and yet there he was right in front of me, his handsome face close enough to kiss . . . or punch. And the way I was feeling at the moment, it was definitely gonna be closer to the "punch" end of the spectrum.

"You're a jerk!" I screamed, the words coming out much more "slurry" than I'd expected. "I'm gonna beat the c.r.a.p out of you!"

Okay, I was obviously drunker than I'd realized. Even though I knew it was really the Midori Sour egging me on, there was something very appealing about letting go and saying whatever the h.e.l.l came into my head. For the first time in a very long time, I felt like I was free. I lifted my fist to hit him in the chest again, but he was much more on his game this time and caught my wrist before my balled fist could do any damage.

"Let me go!" I wailed, the nausea returning with such force that my eyes almost crossed. I could feel my heart hammering like a drumroll in my chest, and for a minute there I really thought it was gonna burst through my chest wall and say, "Hi." I couldn't stop shaking; every part of my body felt like it was being boiled in oil.

"Are you okay?" Daniel asked, his countenance changing from anger to worry as he looked into my wild eyes, felt the tremors that were racing through my body as he held me by my wrists.

"It . . . hurts . . ." I was able to get out between tremors. I didn't know what the h.e.l.l was wrong with me, but I was getting really scared now. The burning had subsided as suddenly as it had begun, but now my whole body had started to go numb, and I was still shaking so hard I could barely think straight. I was able to get out between tremors. I didn't know what the h.e.l.l was wrong with me, but I was getting really scared now. The burning had subsided as suddenly as it had begun, but now my whole body had started to go numb, and I was still shaking so hard I could barely think straight.

Daniel's eye caught the faint glint of the crystal tumbler where it now lay moldering in the sand-which was kind of weird because the last time I'd looked at the gla.s.s, it was fresh and s.h.i.+ny, not old and moldy gray. Still holding me by the left wrist, he reached down and scooped up the gla.s.s, sniffing at it until the smell of what was inside made him recoil in horror.

"Did you drink this?" he said, shaking me. All I could do was nod. I had lost the ability to move my lips, or even swallow. I was slowly being swallowed up, my whole body inexplicably paralyzed.

"How stupid can you be?" he said, sort of under his breath but still loud enough for me to hear every word if I was interested.

Excuse me? I thought to myself. I thought to myself. Who're Who're you you calling stupid, calling stupid, stupid stupid? I didn't care who Daniel thought he was. I was I didn't care who Daniel thought he was. I was not not gonna sit by and let him disparage me like that. Even if I couldn't call him bad names out loud, I could still think them in my head. So, there! gonna sit by and let him disparage me like that. Even if I couldn't call him bad names out loud, I could still think them in my head. So, there!

"Look," he said as he laid me down in the sand, "I know you're gonna freak out when I do this, but there's no other way to counteract the poison."

The poison? Is he crazy?

"Just know that this is gonna be harder for me," he continued as he started to unb.u.t.ton the white cotton dress s.h.i.+rt he was wearing, "than it is for you."

Excuse me, but why are you taking off your s.h.i.+rt? I thought to myself as he reached for his brown leather belt and started tugging on it. I thought to myself as he reached for his brown leather belt and started tugging on it. Oh, Lord, are you gonna rape me? Oh, Lord, are you gonna rape me?

"This is not s.e.xual," he said as if he were reading my mind. "Believe me, you're the last woman I'd want to have s.e.x with right now." Then, he yanked out his belt and unzipped his pants, revealing his proclivity for boxers, not briefs.

The sad thing was that even though I was glad he wasn't into any kinky quadriplegic s.e.x stuff, it still kind of hurt-and when I say "kind of," I meant it hurt like my soul was being set on fire-that he didn't want to have s.e.x with me. Right here. In the sand. With sand up our b.u.t.ts and the likelihood of a third-degree, full-body sunburn.

"Okay, this is gonna hurt," he said as he lay down on top of me, only a pair of boxers-and all my clothes-between us. I stared up at him, his face only half an inch from mine, and all I could think about was how much it sucked to be me. Even when I was lying prostrate on the ground without the use of any of my limbs, it still wasn't enough to entice a guy to wanna get off with me.

"You are truly a sick and twisted individual, I must say. What a naughty mind you have, Calliope Reaper-Jones."

d.a.m.n it, the jerk is reading my mind!

Daniel gave me a devilish smile to let me know that I was right on the money, then he dropped his face even closer to mine, so that our lips were touching. His breath was as sweet as honey as his soft lips pressed firmly against mine. For one single moment my breath caught in my throat, and the world around us ceased to be. Daniel and I were alone in a vacuum that contained only him and me. Then his whole body slid into mine, and it was like I'd been transported bodily up to Paradise. This was the closest I'd ever been to another person-I'm totally totally counting s.e.x here-and it was pure heaven. Just knowing he was inside me, his life force commingling with mine, made me gaga with l.u.s.t. counting s.e.x here-and it was pure heaven. Just knowing he was inside me, his life force commingling with mine, made me gaga with l.u.s.t.

Daniel had said that there was nothing s.e.xual about what he was going to do, but this was definitely the most erotic experience I'd I'd ever had. ever had.

I could've stayed that way forever, Daniel's body magically intermeshed with mine, but it wasn't to be. Suddenly, a deep burning sensation consumed my body from head to toe, searing away all the pleasure I'd just experienced until there was nothing left of me but a writhing ball of pain. A pain that was so intense all I could do was scream.

And scream.

And scream.

twenty-one.

"You can stop screaming now."

I looked up to see Daniel, still naked as a jaybird wearing boxers, sitting astride me and grinning like an idiot.

"Stop looking at me like that," I said grumpily as I pushed him off my hips and sat up. The back of my head was caked with sand, and I could feel it leaking from the base of my hairline down into my s.h.i.+rt.

"What? No 'thank you' for saving your life?" Daniel said as he crawled over to where his clothes were lying in a pile on the ground and started to slide his pants on.

"You didn't save my life. You just prolonged the inevitable. G.o.d, I feel foul," I continued, lifting the back of my tank top out so the sand could escape. "It's like there's a jackhammer symphony being written in my head-ow, brain spasm."

He raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment. It was weird, but I was having a really hard time concentrating on the jackhammering in my brain because Daniel was so d.a.m.n yummy looking that it was distracting.

"What did you mean by 'prolonging the inevitable' . . . ?"

I sighed. "My life is worthless. There's no way I'll finish all the tasks; everyone thinks I'm the bad guy-you already know all all about that." I paused for effect-okay, I was being a bit melodramatic again, but I did feel like my situation about that." I paused for effect-okay, I was being a bit melodramatic again, but I did feel like my situation was was pretty darn hopeless-then I finished with, "And I don't even know what a pretty darn hopeless-then I finished with, "And I don't even know what a Jams.h.i.+d Jams.h.i.+d is, much less is, much less where where it is . . . My family is doomed." it is . . . My family is doomed."

Daniel froze, his s.h.i.+rt only half-b.u.t.toned, which again was very distracting for me. He had a totally ripped chest, smooth skin with just a little bit of curly chest hair that started around his nipples, then headed down south in a s.e.xy trail that disappeared into his pants. He was also in possession of the flattest stomach I'd come across in all my varied-I can count them on one hand, so they're not that that extensive-s.e.xual wanderings. A man should extensive-s.e.xual wanderings. A man should not not be that good-looking. It just wasn't fair. be that good-looking. It just wasn't fair.

"First of all," he began, "I have no idea what what you're talking about when you say that you're 'the bad guy.' I think it's pretty obvious you're the you're talking about when you say that you're 'the bad guy.' I think it's pretty obvious you're the good guy good guy in all this. Your family is lucky to have someone like you to lean on in a situation like this." in all this. Your family is lucky to have someone like you to lean on in a situation like this."

If I didn't know what a jerk he normally was, I would've almost almost been touched by what he was saying-it was weird, but I really felt like I was talking to a whole been touched by what he was saying-it was weird, but I really felt like I was talking to a whole other other person than the Daniel I'd known up until then. person than the Daniel I'd known up until then.

"Secondly," he continued, "the Cup of Jams.h.i.+d? That's That's your second task?" He gave me a hard stare that I your second task?" He gave me a hard stare that I suspected suspected was supposed to be "penetrating," but instead it kinda made him look constipated. was supposed to be "penetrating," but instead it kinda made him look constipated.

"Third."

"Huh?"

I smiled humbly at him even though it was a total sham; I was very very proud of what I'd accomplished. "The Cup of Jams.h.i.+d? It's my proud of what I'd accomplished. "The Cup of Jams.h.i.+d? It's my third third task. I already got the stupid Sea Foam." task. I already got the stupid Sea Foam."

Daniel swallowed hard, then proceeded to finish b.u.t.toning his s.h.i.+rt in silence. When he was done, he took a deep breath, then let it out in one long exhale.

"All right, then."

And that was all he said about the subject. I had expected more, so I was surprised, but not so so surprised that I stopped babbling at him. surprised that I stopped babbling at him.

"Look, when you said that what you were gonna do wasn't s.e.xual . . ." I began.

"It wasn't."

I started to roll my eyes, then stopped because it made my head ache more.