Page 27 of Blaze of Our Lives

“You’re rather good at this,” she acknowledged.

I was silent for a long beat. A compliment was a compliment even if it was from my enemy. It felt nice. And I was not one to hold back on returning a flattering remark when due. Life was too short. Well, maybe not anymore since I was immortal…

“As are you, Pandora.”

“I’d still very much enjoy killing you,” she admitted.

“Same,” I assured her. Neither one of us was permitted to end each other so it was safe to reveal how we really felt. That hadn’t stopped her from ending my mother, but she’d been aiming for me.

The insane woman sighed with content. “I’m quite please we’re on the same page.”

Shockingly, I agreed. Glancing around, I continued my walk through the lollipop forest. Everything looked the same. Until it didn’t.

Stopping so fast I almost stumbled, I crouched low. The green brick road disappeared from beneath me and was replaced with pristine white sand. The lollipop trees and the lemon drop bushes vanished. The pink sun was now bright red and the clouds were puffy and gold. Palm trees filled with monstrous, prehistoric-looking birds sporting horns and fangs swayed in an ominous wind. If we were following the Wizard of Oz plot, this wasn’t the capital of Snoz. It was more like the vacation lair of the Wicked Witch.

“What?” Pandora demanded. “Do you see the capital of Snoz?”

“If the capital of Snoz is a tropical island with flaming assholes, then yes,” I whispered.

Pandora swore. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sadly, neither do I,” I muttered, getting down on all fours. “But I’m about to crawl in and find out.”

“We are going to die,” Pandora shouted.

I really hoped she was wrong.

CHAPTER EIGHT

My anxiety had become an incessant white noise in my head that wouldn’t go away. I knew in my heart that if I ran from the fear and uneasiness, it would follow me. Pinching my weenus was useless. Inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly didn’t work. Reminding myself I couldn’t die for real in a dream state, didn’t help. Candy Vargo had said I was a badass. Right now, I wasn’t so sure.

I’d keep moving forward. There was no going back.

Concealing myself behind a tree filled with birds who could remove my upper body with one bite, I assessed the situation.

It did not look good. At all. Why in the world was I on a beach with deadly vicious Demons? I didn’t even like the beach all that much in real life.

A deep panic set in. I was on my own in a game where the rules were missing. There was a distinct possibility that I could get stuck with Pandora in a dream state for the rest of time. Abaddon wasn’t here to guide me. Fifi wasn’t with me to bang the enemy to death. Ophelia wasn’t around to give me crap and lop a few heads off. My mom wasn’t here to give me a hug and words of wisdom. The dread started low in my gut and spread through me like a wildfire. I couldn’t act my way out of this one.

All I wanted to do was go home. At this point, I didn’t care if Pandora was stuck inside me. I’d just close the metal door when I needed privacy. That would be cowardly and horribly unfair to her, but I was so close to a breakdown I could taste it. The lesser of two shitty evils would be living with Pandora in LA instead of in a warped dream state filled with nightmare-inducing creatures. I was tempted to click my heels together three times like Candy Vargo and Dorothy Gale to find out if I could get home that way. But it wasn’t just my life I was dealing with…

“Pandora,” I whispered. “How would you… umm… feel about living inside me permanently?”

My answer was dead silence.

“Right,” I amended quickly before she cursed a blue streak. I wasn’t sure if my ears could take much more outdoor voice. The conversations with the munchkins had been ear-splitting. “That’s what I thought.”

“You are a Demon Goddess,” Pandora snarled. “Behave like one.”

I kept my voice low. I was situated a good distance away from the action, but didn’t want to reveal myself until I chose to. The Demons were milling around and sizing each other up. “You wanna know something?”

“Probably not,” she replied. “However, I’m going to hazard a guess that I don’t have much of a choice.”

“Correct,” I said. “Here’s the thing. I don’t want to be a Demon Goddess.”

She groaned. “No one wants to be a fucking Demon Goddess, Cecily. It’s horrid. Do you think I chose this job? Do you think your mother did? Catastrophic shit like this gets thrust upon people. No one in their right mind would apply for the position of being in charge of violent assholes.”

That wasn’t the reply I was expecting. I’d been hoping for more of a pep talk.

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