A Sanguinary Rose (Complete)
Bloodshot

When I came to, the sun was setting in a blinding sheet of orange dusk, covering the village and the old belfry tower in strokes of gold, and painting Belial Keep a bright hue of maroon due to the red sandstone it was made of. I must have slept about three or four hours of the journey’s time.

The coach slowed to a gentle halt near the moat of the castle. The motion rocked us on our seats. Still feeling lethargic, I swept my hair and tucked it inside my hoodie while Alan stepped outside to pay the fare in silvers. The coachman doffed his hat in farewell and wheeled the carriage into the village by the castle’s shadow.

Alan was fidgeting with the earpiece. “Mr. Royce isn’t answering.” He leaned on the wooden balustrade over the meandering, whispering creek. “Come on, pick up.”

I’d never seen Beliagard Keep from the outside. My stays had been confined to the first two floors and the basement. Its back against lush, green mountains, the sight of the Keep towering before its village stole my breath away, with its gleaming spire rising against the twilight, the buttresses slanting down against the wall of the forested mountain, and its large, arched windows reflecting off the sunset. A couple of guards armed with bolt-action rifles strode along the crenellated walls, looking down on the moat on one side and on the inner bailey on the other.

The drawbridge was kept down for most of the day and was drawn up after nightfall. Instead of a reinforced portcullis at its end, they had an iron-wrought gated security checkpoint with guards keeping tabs on who came in our out.

Alan tapped my shoulder and gave me an annoyed look.

“We’re on our own until tomorrow. It’s 1am back home. We’d be lucky if Oliver’s here. If not, well, we stand better chances at forcing our way inside with a battering ram than with their permission.”

At the gate we stopped before the dark-tinted glass, and a voice greeted us through the intercom: “State your business.” At that moment I felt like a complete stranger, as though I hadn’t spent the last four months coming here daily.

“We’re here to… see the prince,” Alan said.

“The heir prince isn’t expecting visitors at this moment.”

I stepped in before they turned us away. “Oliver is expecting us. We’re his friends.” Even if it wasn’t true on Alan’s part.

“There’s no ‘Oliver’ here. Only royal blood. What does a venerable prince of House Belial expect from an angel and a vampire?”

“What do you mean? Oliver is the son of the king.”

Alan turned to me. “That’s his human-given name. Don’t you know his devil’s name?”

I shook my head. Sometimes I wished Oliver were more open.

“The younger prince is expecting us,” I said after a few seconds.

The voice responded instantly. “Prince Cael lives abroad.”

“But he visits every day.”

“Not at this moment. When he asks for you, you shall pass.”

“Then Queen Moira will be happy to have us.” If that didn’t work, I had nothing under my sleeve.

There were a few chuckles behind the intercom. “My partner and I agree you’ve never met the Queen. If you seek asylum, the nearest inn will welcome you, for as long as you can pay.”

Alan pulled me aside and offered me his smartphone. “Call him. It’s tweaked to work between dimensions.”

But as I held the phone in my hands, the metal gates swung inward behind us.

The voice in the intercom sounded remorseful. “Sorry for keeping you. The prince awaits you in the main hall.”

I didn’t know what I expected when I took off, but I couldn’t wait to see my friends again. Alan fell behind as my feet carried me across the drawbridge, through the main atrium with its mermaid-shaped fountain and hauled me up the marble-polished steps to the great doors. The guards carrying bolt-action rifles pushed them in and I spilled inside the all too familiar hall.

A tall man stood on the mosaic of colors cascading down from the big rose window above. I couldn’t tell who he was from the glare of colors stinging my eyesight, but Oliver, he was not. There was the usual mop of flaxen hair on his head, but that’s where similarities ended.

I stood rooted to the spot, not knowing whether to walk past him or go back where I came from.

Alan brought up the rear from the atrium stairs. “Scarlett, what’s holding you up?”

The blond man stepped forward from the light. “The castellan informed me of your arrival. My brother’s friends are my friends.”

He was everything Oliver wasn’t and vice versa, and in some ways, more akin to Alan. Taller over the six feet, striking good looks with a refined jawline, dimpled cheeks covered in a light five o’clock shadow, and an orderly mane the color of honey. His quilted doublet and chained cape only accentuated his looks. He was the image of poise in his stance, and elegance in his posture and manners.

I curtsied as I’d done before in the Queen’s presence. Alan stood behind me like a sentry, but I didn’t see him make any attempt at a reverence, which caught the prince’s eye.

“Angels included, of course.”

“He’s not my friend,” came his sharp response. “I’m only her guardian angel.”

I swallowed.

“You needn’t worry. Angels don’t Fall for showing a devil his due respect.” He turned to me. “I’m Prince Callisthenes, otherwise known as Dexter whence you come. You may call me that if you will.” Oliver’s brother extended me a hand. He shook mine with the gentleness one would show a flower. “I fathom you are my brother’s friend, right?”

I hesitated for a second. “Y-Yes, friend. Just a friend.”

Dexter waved, and the guards pulled the doors to a close behind them. “You know, my parents never permitted me mixed friendships.” He turned around to the hallway, and I walked level with him along great pillars and armor racks. Alan became my shadow. “I didn’t visit your world until I was older. Cael—I mean, Oliver enjoys such great privileges. Don’t tell my parents I think that way though.”

“It is also a great privilege being here,” I said, at least to ward off the awkward silence I knew would come.

It came anyway. Until Dexter smashed it.

“Actually, your friends were talking a great deal about you earlier today. Oliver and Anja aren’t exactly quiet,” he said, chuckling. “They all had to go home, though. My Queen Mother saw to that.”

“I understand. Sometimes we overstay.”

“And you’re welcome to it.” The prince stopped before an arched entrance. “It’s dinner time. You must be famished from your journey. Why don’t you join us? We can order anything you want to be bled out just for you.”

I knew better than to refuse. “It’d be a great honor.”

“Don’t wait for me,” Alan said. He detached himself and leaned back against a pillar while pulling out his cellphone.

“I don’t think we’ve had an angel break bread with us, and I don’t expect we ever will,” Dexter said once Alan was out of earshot.

“You must forgive him. He’s just…” I trailed off.

“An angel. Were he to visit House Bael, I’d advise him to put on his best mask, for his sake.”

The prince stopped in his tracks before an ornate double-door made of lacquered wood. His warm and friendly tone took on a colder note as he looked down on me.

“Our King Father awaits inside. He wishes a word with you. You may address him as your Highness.”

The commanding tone in his voice chilled my blood. The heir prince pushed the door inward and a ruddy glow from the roaring hearth warmed my skin. No ‘good luck’ or words of reassurance came from his part. His stony look told me to step inside, and he shut the doors behind me.

Two people sat at the long dining table. One at the head, and the other next to him. As soon as she saw me, Queen Moira stood from her seat and swept from the room in her silk gown and headdress without so much a word. The thumping in my chest hurt as the doors clicked shut a second time behind me.

Save for a few candles on the white tablecloth and the crackling flames, the room was dim. Their light defined the king’s sharp features as he pressed knife and fork to a greasy steak. It was clear which son took more semblance to him. He seemed like Dexter, but much older, broader, more rugged, about fifty, but devils didn’t age like humans.

King Caedmon wore a white tunic under the black leather regalia. Two jewel-studded rings went around on his right index and middle fingers. He chewed in silence, not bothering a look at me as though I were beneath his attention.

I curtsied in his direction, and whether he took notice it made no difference. His gaze remained either on his emptying plate, or the dwindling hearth fire on the opposite side of me.

Every few moments a maid or two would scurry into the room to see whether something needed to be picked up or to check up on the king. In no time they took his empty plate and dirty utensils and rushed out before his patience frayed.

“Sit,” came his husky voice from the head of the table.

I took the nearest chair and hid my trembling hands under the tablecloth.

“You wanted to see me, your Highness?”

The embers glinted off his hard eyes. “A rabid dog was set loose. Evidence points to you with the leash.”

Mandala?

More than surprised, it made me afraid what he might know and what he might do with such knowledge. How did he find out? How much does he know? And what did it mean for me and all of us? What did he care?

“Your Highness, that’s not—”

“Silence.” His mere presence was enough to enforce it. His gaze had the power to submit anyone who dared look up. “Regardless of your intentions, you have kicked a hornet’s nest. You are the Warlock’s creature. My sources determined you’re the closest the Warlock has had to a human relationship in ages. Whether he subjugated you, deceived you or convinced you, it makes no matter to us.”

The king slammed a newspaper on the table, its most prominent article written in a non-human language. The words flowed elegantly in curving shorthand lettering. It was Enochian.

“From today. Third attack on ORPHEUS.” He pointed at Mandala’s wanted poster with a ringed finger. “His actions have created a rift among high-ruling families. Some support his drive to dismantle the ‘antiquated’ Almanac, to assert our superior kinship over humans and even some mystics. To the Belial household, he’s a tumor that must be shorn off. If left unchecked, he shall bring ruin to all I and our forefathers have built for this House. The secrecy of our existence which old ORPHEUS provides cannot be overruled.”

“Your Highness, we’re both on the same page.”

“Were it up to me, I’d invoke the wrath of our ancient Archdemon upon him. But my hands are tied behind my back. Nobody has thrown his crown in the ring yet. However, the moment someone openly commits to his cause or against, everything will snowball from there. Our meddling or someone else’s can become the determining factor between worn-out peace or full-out war among the families.”

The air escaped from my lungs. One part of me shrank back at what he was implying. The other part of me, the demon, perked up in curiosity.

“So no royalty can get involved.”

King Caedmon’s lips tugged upward. “You are the only one who knows him well. Vampires are the most unappreciated creatures of all. Their potential for power rivals that of a pureblood devil. Only theirs comes from time and effort, and not from birth.” The king turned to the sizzling embers. “Surely you have heard of the link between a vampire and a warlock or a witch. This we call Nexus Maleficarum in your tongue. Witches and warlocks are faraway descendants of devil families. Such grants them, human-born, the boon of our power. Thus, the link also works between devil and vampire. I shall lend you my willpower and you shall rid us of this menace.”

“He could kill me with a snap of his fingers. How do I know he will trust me?”

The king showed a glimpse of his teeth. “Or perhaps he’ll want you back.”

You cannot know that.

In my tired and dazed state, I had sworn to Alan I’d tear Mandala apart. That, however, had been purely fantasied in my enraged delirium, since I knew I didn’t stand a chance in all Hells. Nevertheless, the drive had been there. Now faced with the job and commitment to it, I wished things would solve themselves on their own. I was never fond of Mandala, but I didn’t dislike him either. If only he came to grips on his own. But it was stupid and naïve to think it would happen that way. The thought of me killing him made me want to retch.

“If you happen to succeed, and only if minimal damage comes to our House in the aftermath, you shall have a worthy reward. Anything you may desire that sits within my power, you shall have.”

I licked my lips. They were parched. “I want the Red Star of the Crawling Darkness.”

“For this task, I grant you the full might of Belial, Sovereign of Fire.” King Caedmon held his chin up. “You know what to do. Do not fail me. I have enough of that on my plate.”

The one night we spent at the castle, the maids separated Alan and me in two different guest rooms.

I lay awake, tossing and turning under the bed’s linen canopy. My legs got tangled up between the silken sheets, and I ended up flinging them to the floor at some point during my turbulent sleep. I clutched a feathered pillow to my face, but nothing calmed me to sleep. Somehow, I must have dozed off, only to bolt awake at the slightest creaking noise or howling outside, or at the image of a nightmare forming in my mind’s eye. Once I saw my brother Marcus, Mom, and Dad lying in pools of blood, only to rise from the dead as I did once. Then I saw a handgun pointed at my heart, and its cannon exploded with acrid smoke. I awoke time and time again from those bad dreams, only to come back to this world where they could become a reality.

Nighttime was my most active phase. Not only that, but the king’s task weighted heavily on my shoulders. At the same time, I felt much stronger, much faster, much… well, everything I’d wished to become, and I didn’t want it anymore. Perhaps I was strong enough to lift a car, and fast enough to surpass a speeding horse. The king’s boon worked wonders after all. If anything, all that additional strength and energy contributed to my restlessness.

Night seemed to drag on forever, until someone knocked at my door. I put on my previous day’s shirt and answered.

Alan avoided looking at me. “Pack your things. They’re waiting for us. Cover up well, ’cuz it’s 8am back home.”

The black sky was still blinking with stars not our own when we stepped on the Dimensional Gate out in the inner yard. There was a flash of light, wind whipping at my eyes and ears, and our feet came to meet the living room in the Armstrong Manor.

Barely a second after I stepped off the platform, a slender figure with a bob of blonde hair crushed me in her embrace. I had to remind myself werecats could be deceptively strong, even in human form.

“Thank goodness. Thank goodness you’re okay,” Anja said, tearing up with joy. I wrapped my arms around her, too. The scent of jasmine caressed my nose, and I wanted to close my eyes and stay there for a while… “Uh, are you sure you’re okay?” she asked, breaking the embrace. She had bags under her green eyes, and her hair was all mussed up. Her clothes had obvious wrinkles all over them. Even Morganne looked tidier, which said a lot. The witch smiled and waved at me with a hand hidden in her long lilac sleeve.

“I’m okay. It’s good to be back.” Only that was half a lie.

Oliver approached me with a flushed face and an unsure look. “That was… quite something we did back there… It’s good—” But I cut him off with a hug. He smelled strongly of fresh deodorant, and his jacket was snug enough to hug him harder.

“Your dad is kinda scary, you know?”

I shouldn’t have said anything though. Oliver recoiled, with a worried expression creasing his face.

“How do you mean? Like you saw him from a distance, or you bumped into him?”

“No such thing. Don’t fret about it, I’m fine. Really.”

Alan had snuck to the side of the room and leaned against the wall between bookshelves. “Is that so? You seemed pretty distant after that dinner Mr. Highborn invited you to.” Sᴇaʀch Thᴇ FɪndNovᴇl.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

I shot him a ‘shut the hell up’ look.

Oliver turned to me, and I feigned ignorance. “Who? My brother?”

“Yeah. You know, those cooks of yours really know their craft.” At his raised eyebrow, I added. “Seriously, it’s all fine. I’m just happy to be back.”

This was the kind of reunion I dreamed of when I was trapped inside the Starlit Almanac. I wanted only to come back, and nothing else mattered. As I saw their faces once again, the full extent of this dire reality sank in. Nothing would be the same as before. And a large, darkening shadow loomed ever greater over our lives. My gaze wandered around the living room and found no trace of the person I could fall back into when I felt most cornered.

“Where’s Mr. Royce?”

“At school. First period began moments ago,” Oliver said. “First thing he’ll do once he’s free is come see you. We stayed at the castle for as long as we could, but my mother wouldn’t have us.”

“I’m gonna go see him.”

“Eh, I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Morganne said, raising her eyebrows.

“She’s right. Things are bad. You can’t just walk into school as though nothing happened,” Anja said. She held my hands. “Your parents talked to my mom. Your mom pleaded to me for anything about you. I felt horrible not being able to say anything… and well, I was sick worried, too.”

Oliver nodded. “There are missing person posters of you across town, which also spread out to social media. There was an amber alert. Your parents really did everything in their power to search for you. So yeah… it’s messed up.”

I underestimated the extent of my troubles. What reasons could I possibly come up with to justify my vanishing and sudden reappearance?

The leather gave a little bounce when I sank on the couch. “So, what do I do now?”

“Well… you were inside ORPHEUS at the time of the ‘attack,’” Oliver said. “They wouldn’t allow you to tell your parents the truth. It’s likely they’ll do the explaining for you. Your sudden reappearance will definitely send shock waves.” He gave me a smile. “Good news is they’ve pinned all the blame on Mandala. Seems we’re off the hook, at least.”

It was such a cause for a celebration we partied all day long. No, in reality nobody moved a muscle. It became an uncomfortable silence in the living room until Morganne spoke her mind.

“So… I’m guessing you found no cure, huh?”

Anja gave me a sorry look. “Oh no. It doesn’t exist, does it?”

“It exists.” I took a deep breath to calm the flow of emotion. “What we did was crazy. No one can deny the fact. I don’t ever wanna put you out there in a situation like that again. It would be too much to bear if…”

If it had to be me the one to put a stop to Mandala, then it would be me alone. Or else watch all I held dear around me turn to ashes.

I hadn’t noticed I was sobbing until Anja wrapped her arms around my shoulders.

We could flee.

Somewhere.

Where?

Nowhere would be safe anymore.

“Don’t sweat it. At least for me, it’s been one hell of a year,” Morganne said, shrugging. “Only time I’ve ever looked forward to school days.”

“Yeah, our sophomore year was kind of dull,” Anja agreed.

Alan detached himself from the wall and took a step towards me. “You should go see your parents. Let me know when you want to do that.”

“It’s fine. You don’t have to stay if you don’t want.”

He smirked. “You’re gonna have to fire me.”

“If they see me with you, they’ll ask more questions.”

But he was insistent. “I’m your shadow. They won’t see me with you.”

When Mom saw me step onto our front porch, she rushed to me and fell on her knees in heartbreak and disbelief. And when she cried her tears out of happiness as she held me in her arms, those were the hardest moments in my life to behold. The unspeakable pain I inflicted on her was unforgivable.

Would she still love me once she found out what I truly was though? If I came out to her with the truth, what reaction could I expect?

Her eyes were red and puffy, but happy. “Your clothes stink.”

Marcus crashed into me with a wet, teary hug. “Where the hell were you?”

“I don’t know.”

Dad stood behind them, watching with me with a tired gaze.

He pulled me close into a mild-mannered and collected embrace, and the contrast with my mom and brother made me nervous.

“Are you angry with me?”

His hand moved gently along my scalp, caressing my dirty red hair. I felt his heartbeat as I pressed my head against him. It was calm. His breathing was measured, but barely so. His voice was near the cracking point. “How could I be?”

I allowed myself those few hours of blissful ignorance at home, or I wouldn’t live a happy moment ever again. The shower I took was a warm, soothing blanket swathing my body, scouring off the dirt, grime, and stains of blood that had sprinkled on my skin with soapy water. I watched the accumulated gunk from the harshest week of my life swirling around in the drain and flushing down for good. Despite that, the dirt I’d accumulated within me would never really scrub off.

Mom gave me a fresh change of clothes. She then sat me down to cuddle, and I curled up like a ball on her lap.

At noon, Marcus recounted me stories of how he and his friends biked around town handing out picture posters to neighbors and nailing them on storefronts. It was then when my daydream collapsed, and reality reared its ugly head once more. Marcus’ anecdotes at one point led Dad to ask the questions that slammed me back to my real problems. “Where did you go?” “Where did you end up?” “Did you get kidnapped?” “Why didn’t you take your cellphone with you? You’re a teenager, for God’s sake.” “This will be the most blessed day of our lives… but how…?”

Coincidence or not, two men claiming to be cops rang the door minutes later, saving me from potentially screwing up in my answers. I could tell from the badges on their shoulders they worked for ORPHEUS. But that’s not what they told Dad when they asked to speak with him in private. Whether he knew or noticed, I had no idea.

Later in the evening Dad shut himself up in his office without a word. That was the moment that grounded me in the stark reality—I’d come back to normalcy, but with something twisted and sinister lurking in the background. Something had changed, I could feel it, but found it impossible to pin it down. Within one morning and afternoon of my ‘reappearance,’ Dad became as distant as he’d always been, but somehow, more so now. Just what did those agents tell him?

My friends came by the next afternoon. Anja and Oliver feigned ignorance of having seen me earlier before my family did. Anja rushed me into a crushing embrace and Oliver also wrapped his arms gently around me.

He gave me a nervous smile and spoke softly. “Mr. Royce is waiting at my place. He’s eager to talk to you. I mean, like, really.”

So am I.

Mom looked uneasy when I asked her for permission to go out.

“It’s fine, Mrs. Rosenbaum. We’ll look over her and won’t leave her side until she’s back here,” Anja said, beaming.

Funny. I could better defend myself than the two of them together. They couldn’t know of the ever-present Nexus Maleficarum established between me and a King of Hell.

“I’m thinking I’d better drive the three of you,” Mom said, and there’d be no objections.

When the three of us entered the living room containing the Gate to Inferno, Mr. Royce hurried to put back an old book in the shelf. The bags under his eyes were worse than ever, and strands of his salt-and-pepper hair coiled and twirled around on his head like a cartoon mad scientist. Upon seeing me, he caught his breath and strode forward, only to hesitate feet away. It was as though he couldn’t believe his eyes.

Then he hugged me, just like Dad.

The three of us sat on the maroon velvet couches. Mr. Royce took the single seat at the head of the coffee table and next to the lamp, the one source of lighting in the living room. Outside, a light drizzle rapped gently on the windows. Oliver had drawn up all the shutters and curtains and locked the doors in case his aunt walked in unannounced.

Before starting, the teacher handed me a blood bag. “Thought you’d want this. I figured you wouldn’t have easy access at home.”

“Thank you. Inconspicuous, it is not.”

Having come out of the Starlit Almanac, I realized I was able to better control my impulses. Blood thirst didn’t strike often, and I could keep my temper and mood in check with ease. I had a nagging sensation throughout the day that it was feeding time, but it never distracted me enough.

An unexpected silence dropped as Mr. Royce waited for me to begin. I found myself staring at my lap, hesitating, and threw a glance at Anja and Oliver beside me, as though I didn’t trust them enough. I wasn’t sure I wanted them to listen. At least partly.

I had to start somewhere though.

“The Starlit Almanac doesn’t work as we thought. The limiting gazers do exactly that, and that’s an understatement. I didn’t find what the cure was or where it was because of it, but it gave me a revelation that’s just as important. Probably the biggest decision I’ve ever made.” I paused for breath and to keep the tears at bay. “I don’t want to go back to my old life. This is who I am now, and it is who I want to be.”

A smile crept up in Mr. Royce’s lips. “I’m happy for you.” He shot a look at the three of us. “Watching you develop, helping you grow, being witness to this… incredible friendship, it’s not surprising. And for me, it has been a great honor to help you along your journey.”

“I shouldn’t have involved anyone.” I fought harder to keep the tears from spilling. My nails dug into my legs. “Mandala played me right into his bag. All throughout he’d been using me to go inside it himself.”

Mr. Royce leaned forward on his knees. “How was he able to make it work for him?”

“He used a gazer that wouldn’t limit his scope. He called it Horus’ Sight.”

“The All-Seeing.”

“Where’s Melanie?”

“She hasn’t missed a day at school,” Mr. Royce said. He rubbed his forehead. “Please, Scarlett. Don’t. Let’s not point fingers, and much less about something as serious as what you’re suggesting.”

Anger surged from my very bowels. “Mandala somehow knew our whole plan down to a tee. I’m one hundred percent positive it wasn’t you, or you two, or Morganne, or Alan. Let’s not spend an entire subplot trying to figure out who’s double-crossing us, because we all damn know it was her.”

“That’s still too strong an accusation to make.”

I slumped back down on the couch, looking away from them, trying to soothe my breathing. The wind rattled the window frames, and silence settled over the living room.

After a pause I turned back to him.

“Mandala wants to destroy ORPHEUS from the inside. He says our existence must be revealed and our position as superior to humans acknowledged.” I swallowed. “He told me ‘to not be near my family when the hysteria hits.’”

Anja looked shaken. “How would he be able to do that?”

“I don’t know. He said something about a veil that ORPHEUS put in my place to hide us from untested human eyes. How it works or where it is, or how he plans to dismantle it, I have no clue.”

“He’d set off a worldwide modern Witch Hunt to get his point across,” Mr. Royce said, mirroring my grim look.

“I’m sure they’re working hard to stop him… right?” Anja asked. “They wouldn’t let him get away with it.”

“They already tried stopping him and failed, as far as I know. Alan and I were witness to that in Paris.”

“How long do you reckon it’d take him to finish the job?” Oliver asked, glancing at me beside Anja.

“No idea. Could be days, weeks, months. He’s not working alone anymore. He has allies.” At least that’s what I believed.

“Well… just know my home is your home, if you ever need it,” he said, smiling, then blushing a little. “All of you. Even if my parents give me crap about it.”

Anja was shaking up though. “But my mom. My grandparents, my little cousins. What if…? They couldn’t fend for themselves. No way…”

Anja’s mom was a she-tiger. She earned her living as a realtor and through a side hustle selling items online. Even if she could aptly defend herself in tiger form, there was no telling if she’d one day be beset by an angry mob, not to mention people carrying guns. Anja’s fears were more than justified. It reminded me of my uncle Frank, the fact that a kind and innocent vampire could face the stake just as much as the murderous one next to him for the sole reason of existing.

I turned to Mr. Royce. “What if they can’t stop him? What else is there? Stab him with a dose of SanguineX.”

“That drug doesn’t work like that. It affects only physical capabilities, not his inherent magical willpower. In the hypothetical case he succeeds? I don’t know. Lives will be changed; millions will be ruined. The first months will be the worst. But we’ll pull through. Remember when Isaac Terrentius Rowley first banded together with his fellow ‘depraved’ after surviving Salem. They founded the Orpheus Almanac. More than that, there isn’t much I can offer. What you want to hear, you won’t hear it from me.”

My chest felt heavy with emotion. “That can’t be our only option.”

Mr. Royce frowned. “Then what do you suggest? We do it ourselves, is that it? Come face to face with this… hulk? What did you want to hear, exactly?”

I sprang to my feet. “To hear you try to talk me out of doing it myself.”

Anja sucked in her breath.

The teacher eyed me, stunned. “How do you mean?”

My two friends shared confused glances with each other.

I clamped down on my mouth.

“Talk you out of doing what? Scarlett, what are you talking about?” Anja pressed me. Her eyes pleaded.

“Whatever happens, you know we’ve got your back, right?” Oliver said. “We’ve pulled through thick and thin together. Whatever it is, we’re here.”

“It’s not… it’s not that I don’t trust you. Not ever.” My throat was dry. I felt a sting in my eyes and the tears coming. “It’s the opposite. It’s that I do trust you, perhaps too much. It’s exactly because you’ll do right by me that I don’t want you involved. This is something I gotta do on my own.”

Mr. Royce raised his voice. “No, you don’t. It’s not your job or your problem. Let the government handle him. If they can’t and they fail so miserably, and it erupts into a Witch Hunt, then we’re talking about a one in a million chance. Now if the governments fail, what can you, a teenager, expect to accomplish?”

My demon rose from my core. “He may still trust me. I’ll stab him in the back. Rip out his throat.” Off their startled looks, I sat back down, elbows on my knees and hands pressed against my forehead. Once I felt the heat cool off, I went on. “I’m sorry. I don’t really feel that way. But it’s my fault he got the means to his ends. I cleared the way for him to enter the Starlit Almanac when he couldn’t on his own.” I turned to Oliver. “I met with your father. He fears for the sake of your family. He fears a war might break loose in Inferno.”

Oliver tensed like a wire. “You know nothing about my father. It’s not the family he cares about. Business and power are all that matters to him. And he’s not your king. I am not your prince. You’re under no obligation to obey what he says.”

“It was my decision. Once I get wind of Mandala’s location, I will track him down and put an end to this dread before it becomes a nightmare.”

Mr. Royce leaned back against his seat. “The governments of the world will handle him. Whole cadres, covens, and convocations of angels stand between him and his goals. Don’t worry about Mandala. Worry about your midterms.”

“Still, anything I can do, I want to help,” Anja said.

“My home is always yours. Though if you decide to go down that route, I’m here for you, too,” Oliver said, turning red towards the end of the sentence.

I reined the demon in before it got to me, before it turned my hair blood red, and before it distorted my temper. Through it all, I managed a weak smile. “That’s precisely why I didn’t want you two to listen.”

When Mr. Royce drove Anja and me home it was near midnight, and I was eager to return to bed, to have proper sleep for the first time in weeks.

I said goodbye and stepped out of the old Mustang. As I trudged up the steps after waving at them, I heard the doors of the car open and close. Anja caught up to me on my front porch.

Her face was a deep shade of red to rival Oliver’s. Wheezing and smiling, she looked like she didn’t know what she was doing.

I couldn’t help but smile, too. “What’s up?” I looked over her shoulder at Mr. Royce, who was pretending not to watch, but I could tell he had his lips turned up. “What’s happening?”

“Hey… so… you know how you told me to seize every moment… to be the change I want to see? When we lost comms with you, I seriously thought I’d never see you again. I guess… what it taught me is I don’t want to regret anything in the end… for the things I was too afraid to do or say.”

My heart was hammering in my rib cage. “I remember…”

Anja choked on her words, then managed to say: “Would you be my Valentine?”

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