Page 15 of Blaze of Our Lives

Yep, definitely a crappy B Horror movie. So much for the Stinky Whore being a team player. My eye roll was enormous. I knew full well who she was and what she could do, but she wasn’t exactly herself at the moment. “Listen to me,” I said with icy indifference coating each word.

My voice surprised me. The tone was pitched low and kind of scary. It was the voice I used when I’d played a cop with a vendetta on a six-episode arc of the hit show, Phoenix Police Academy, a few years ago. The lead actor had been a sweetheart with a bad BO issue. Playing his love interest had gotten tricky. My contract wasn’t renewed for more episodes when the dailies revealed I’d covertly pinched my nose shut every time he was close. Trying to cover it with my notebook or any prop I could get my hands on, including a coffee cup, a bald mannequin head and a cell phone, hadn’t worked out. However, the cop I’d played had been a hard-ass of the highest order who’d singlehandedly taken down a posse of gun-toting mimes who’d been hired by the cowpoke mafia to terrorize a small backwater town.

I was about to go method.

They couldn’t hear Pandora, but they could definitely hear me. Candy Vargo’s brows raised, and Tim took notes.

“You are not in charge. I am. If you want to be released, then I’d highly suggest you swallow the bile in your foul mouth and participate in a reasonably polite manner.”

“Or?” Pandora demanded.

Lying wasn’t my norm, but I was about to spew out a whopper. Didn’t matter. I was playing Lieutenant Dede Desiree Duke from Phoenix Police Academy. Whoever had named the character should have been fired. Whatever. Hell, being the Goddess of the Darkness felt like fiction to me—as if I was playing a role. The tools in my arsenal were many, but I only knew how to use a few. One thing I did know how to do was act… and I was damned good at it. “Or, I’ll simply close the metal door and leave you to rot for the rest of eternity. If I can’t hear your nasty voice, I’ll eventually forget that I’m your condo. You know… out of sight, out of mind.”

“You wouldn’t,” she hissed. The woman sounded like she wanted to rip my head off with her bare hands. The feeling was entirely mutual.

“You wanna try me?” I shot back as everyone in the room stared at me in horror.

Well, not everyone. Abaddon winked. My guy had my back. The Demon knew exactly what I was doing. A thought occurred to me—an unnecessary and irrelevant thought. Abaddon and I hadn’t had sex yet, and as long as Pandora was in my body, sex would be completely off the table. Damn it! If I died before we did the deed, I was going to be pissed. The man was hotter than asphalt in August. It was unorthodox to have the main goal of the mission be that I lived long enough to bang the man who made me breathless and my heart pound erratically. He was the only person I wanted inside of me. Regardless, nobody else needed to know my intentions except me. Having goals was important—even if they were orgasmic ones.

“You’re not in charge,” Pandora hissed. “I will not accept that.”

“Dude,” I snapped. “You don’t even have a freaking body at the moment. You are in no position to negotiate. I’ve locked you out once, and I can do it again. This time I’ll throw the key into the abyss. In other words, it’s my way or the highway.”

“I don’t understand that jargon,” she ground out.

“And I don’t care. You get the gist of it,” I told her. “Make your choice now. I won’t ask twice.”

The silence was palpable. The Immortals leaned forward. I held my breath. If the Stinky Whore called my bluff, I would be stuck with her. For eternity.

What the hell was I thinking? That was one shitty improv. Screw Lieutenant DeDe Desiree Duke. What the hell did a fictional cop know about evil Demon Goddesses? Nothing. DeDe Desiree Duke took down idiots who didn’t speak and pretended to be trapped in imaginary fucking glass boxes. Note to self: People who are not good at improv should not improv. That would be me.

“Fine,” she eventually snarled, ending my spiraling panic. “But when I get out, you shall pay dearly.”

“At least you’ll be out,” I said flatly.

I glanced over at Lilith. She had wanted Pandora to join us. Pandora had joined. She gave me a thumbs up. I gave her a weak one back.

“Tell Cecily what you know of the Higher Power,” my mother said.

“FUCK YOU, Lilith,” Pandora shouted.

“Umm…” I didn’t feel like repeating that one to my mom. “Strike one, Pandora. You have two more and the door closes.”

“I hate you,” she muttered.

“Back at ya,” I replied. “Answer my mother.”

She groaned. “Be more specific with the question.”

I could do that. “How do I get to the Higher Power?” And by I, I meant we. I wasn’t sure how she felt about It after the whole box thing, so I left that part out.

“In a dream state, you imbecile.” I could literally feel her eyes rolling. “You have to be asleep, passed out or knocked out. In fact, I’d suggest that you hit yourself in the head with a two-by-four. Hard.”

I ignored her suggestion to maim myself and spoke to the group. “She says, to get to the Higher Power, I have to be in a dream state.”

“Interesting,” Tim said. “Makes sense.”

“It does,” Lilith agreed, shaking her head in wonder. “I’d never thought of it like that.”

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