Demon kissed: demon kissed

Chapter 8

Mental hoopla was slapping into the sides of my skull, giving me a headache, as I stared at the ceiling in my room. I was cast head first into the vat of chicken-fried crap, and I didn't know how to get out. Denying it wasn't really working out. I could say this whole thing didn't happen, but it wouldn't change anything. I'd still be hunted.

The more I thought about it, the angrier I got. I pulled my pillow over my face and screamed. When the air escaped my lungs, my anger fizzled a little. I rested the pillow on my belly, and stared blankly. I had no choice, but to accept everything that was thrust at me, and try to make something of it. The part that bothered me the most wasn't the Seeker stumbling on me in the middle of the night—it was that they thought I was evil.

Having someone call me evil to my face was weird—since I'm not. But it made me wonder if on some level, they were right. Maybe that was where I was headed. I'd done some dumb stuff over the past year, but I wouldn't have said any of it was evil. I partied, drank, and threw myself at random guys. Most teenagers did that anyway. It wasn't good, but I didn't think it gave me a Fastpass to Hell either.

I needed something. This felt too dream-like to be real. If I had something to touch and hold, this wouldn't feel so freaking weird. The plan formed in my mind without much conscious thought. And I waited.

When night fell, I felt a little better. My mom fed me birthday cake and I blew out seventeen candles. Next year there would be one more candle, but I'd still be seventeen. I'd be seventeen when I was seventy. How was I supposed to hide that? I'd have to deal with that later.

Staying alive was more pressing at the moment. It was odd, but I had no idea how much I wanted to live, until Jake tried to kill me. I was glad that I was still around to blow out candles. After too much birthday cake, I jumped on my bed forgetting the delicate box was still there. It bounced off the bed and crashed onto the floor.

I rolled over to grab it, but the wood didn't survive the impact. It lay on the floor, cracked. I closed my eyes, blinking back tears. My fingers picked up the box, and I held it delicately in my hands, trying to fix it. It wasn't that messed up. My fingers ran across the crack in the bottom of the box. I pulled out the velvet pillow to see how bad it was, but the inside of the box wasn't cracked. When I flipped it back over, the outside bottom of the box was cracked all the way through. I pressed my nail into the space to confirm what my eyes saw, and instantly regretted it. The box split in my hands.

"Oh no. No." I pushed the pieces back together, but it was too late. They were split clean through. Sighing heavily, I felt the tears well up. I ruined the last gift Apryl gave me.

I dropped half of the broken box on the bed, to wipe a tear from my eye when I saw it. A black chain slid out of the bottom. Looping the chain around my fingers, I pulled it out. It was a necklace with a small pendant, the size of a quarter. It was a solid black stone disc that held two tightly woven ivory peonies. I held it in my palm, looking at it, wondering if Apryl knew it was in the box. I undid the clasp and draped it around my neck. The pendant hung in the hollow of my throat, exactly where I would have worn a choker.

My fingers slid across the rough ivory. Breaking the box didn't seem so bitter now. I found a hidden treasure. And it matched everything. It wasn't too dressy or too plain. I could wear it all the time. I fumbled the cold disc in my fingers wondering why it was hidden in the bottom of the box.

I wasn't tired when I went to bed that night. Sleep was something I no longer needed. I flicked at the frayed edge of my blanket, waiting. Mom had to be asleep. So I waited, twitching my foot restlessly until the sounds of silence echoed through the house. Jerking my body upright, I padded across to my dresser. Looking in the mirror, I ran my slim fingers down my cheeks. I still looked like me, and that purple mark was still there, delicately strewn with lots of swirls. The mark was changing, becoming more elaborate. It changed my life faster and harder than anything I've ever encountered.