Southern Charms

Epilogue: Burn

Ash

Even though weeks had passed since Ash's return, the bedroom smelled stale. The open window let in an autumn scented breeze, but no matter how it stirred the curtains or ruffled the papers, it couldn't beat back the aroma of neglect.

He drew his knees up to his chest and raked his brown eyes over the walls, searching for any hint of the child who'd once lived there, but he was gone. The star speckled navy walls and movie posters were replaced with trendy neutral paint and pictures someone could find in any home goods store. The trophies and drawings exchanged for trinkets and decorative books. A room for a guest, not a son.

Besides his clothes, which were tossed haphazardly about the floor and furniture, there was only one item in the room that belonged to him. And he would do anything to get rid of it.

There on the desk sat a glass container filled with silver smoke that swirled without air or touch. To the casual observer, it was a thing of beauty- like bottled stars and mist, but Ash knew better. Evil emanated from the substance, spreading outwards like an oil leak, coating his skin in a thick membrane.

Malphas. Prince of Hell. The Great Deceiver.

Ash's future.

He rubbed his thumb over the prick in his pointer finger. The pain had long since faded, but he could feel the tether tying him to the demon. And even worse, to Rose. Just thinking of what she'd done drew a sob from his chest, and he forced it back, refusing to let Malphas see him cry. It didn't matter that he was an incorporeal being right now. He had no doubt the prince was aware of everything around him. Mostly because Ash could sense his thoughts almost as well as his own.

As if on cue, a skittering sensation went across his skin, and Ash glared at the container. Was Malphas laughing at him? Of course he was. He thought he was going to win this. He was so confident that he'd been willing to let Ash remain free until Rose's birthday drew closer. To keep the host in tip top shape he'd told Luis.

 At least, Luis looked a little ill at the thought of Ash becoming the demon's host, but whatever pain it caused, it wasn't enough to stop the man from sacrificing his son for power.

The prickling sensation intensified, turning to something dark and almost burning. An image rose up in Ash's mind. Of Rose. Her curves clothed in black lace, her lips red as dried blood, and her eyes- her beautiful coal black eyes- were silver.

"Stop it," he shouted, leaping to his feet and pulling his arm back. One strike. That's all it would take to send the glass crashing to the floor. With bitter satisfaction, he imagined the shards scattering across the hardwood floor while Malphas's essence dissipated into nothing, banishing the prince back to hell. And Ash with him.

Because that was the price of the bond. Whatever happened to Malphas would happen to Ash. It was the only way the demon would let him walk about freely, and if that had been the only price, Ash would have gladly shattered the container. But he knew Rose would suffer too, and he wouldn't let that happen.

"Ash? Are you okay?"

He threw himself on the bed and tucked his hands behind his head as the door swung open revealing his mother's concerned face. Reina Goodwin was a woman that inspired jealousy in other women. Tall and slim with high cheekbones and a slender nose, she oozed a level of refinement that could only come from being trained in the art of being a debutante from birth. Her caramel curls were pinned into submission, and she wore only enough makeup to enhance her delicate features.

But for all that her outer appearance screamed cold and snobbish, Ash knew the truth. His mami was lonely and kind. Years of being forced to stay separate from those her parents deemed not good enough had left her with an underdeveloped set of social skills so she retreated into the icy veneer of her wealth and good looks whenever in public.

"I thought I heard you speaking to someone." Her lips twitched. "Thought maybe you were sneaking a girl up here. I've heard you've been spending a lot of time with Rose Wych."

She sat on the edge of his bed and ran her hand through his curls. Leaning into her touch, he studied her for a few seconds before asking, "That wouldn't bother you?"

Thick lashes fluttered with confusion. "Why should it bother me?"

"Because she doesn't have magic."

"Oh, that." Mami chewed on her bottom lip. "Don't tell your father but no. I think Rose is a good girl, and that is all that matters to me."

He wondered again how much his mother knew. How could she have missed her husband's dangerous pursuits? And now that Jemina was involved? It would be ludicrous to think otherwise, and if these last few days had taught him anything, it was that there were very few people in Black Brier that he could trust.

"Good because I'd like to see more of her."

"Just be careful."

"Mami," he groaned when she waggled her eyebrows.

Kissing him on the cheek, she laughed. "Sorry, hijo. I couldn't resist. But really, do be careful. There are some that would not be so understanding, comprende?"

"Comprendo."

"Now, wash up. Dinner will be ready soon." She brushed invisible lint from her skirt and then froze, her eyes narrowing on the glass container on her son's desk. "What is this Ash? What have you done?"

"Nothing. It's just decorative," he insisted, but she moved it out of his reach. He blinked and grabbed his stomach, feeling unbalanced.

"Don't lie to me. I know what this is, and I thought you were better." Tears streamed down her face. "Oh, Ash-"

"That's enough, Reina." Papi's stern voice lashed through the room.

Mami blinked and set Malphas back on the desk. She swayed and spoke in a monotone voice. "Ash, dinner is ready. Go wash up."

When she was gone, Ash lunged at his father. "What did you do?"

Every syllable that fell from Papi's mouth was coated in frost. "Do not ever let me catch you being so careless again, do you understand me? Ward your room. Put that out of sight. Next time, I will negate the deal we made, and I'll go ahead and start the process for Malphas to take over your body. Do you want that?"

"No sir."

"Good. Then do what I told you and join us for dinner."

The walls rattled with the force of the door slamming behind his father's retreating back. With shaking hands, he lifted the glass, hissing at the bolt of pain that went through his arms, and he put it in his closet. Malphas's discontent was almost strong enough to convince Ash to ignore his father's commands, but it would ruin everything if he lost control of his body now.

Shutting the closet door, he pressed his head against the door and then looked at the calendar on the wall. A date, circled in red, jumped out at him. Fifty-one days.

Fifty-one days to save the world or to watch it burn.