Page 25 of The Daughter of the Devil

When Sierra shows us to separate rooms, it occurs to me how unusual it is for people to occupy the same room during a sleepover. Nonetheless, I wait for an hour to ensure everyone has fallen asleep before opening the door to the bedroom I was shown to. As I attempt to step, I notice the floorboards beneath my feet creak under my weight, so I hover just above until I reach the door to the room Morgana is sleeping in. I'm still worried she's hurt from the events of yesterday and this morning. I should have stopped myself. Humans can't handle being with demons. That's why there are stories about the themes that incubus are, and if only humans knew that the feature was something that many demons had to deal with. I don't want Morgana to feel alone, nor do I want her to fear me. I want to knock on the door and reassure her, but I'll happily just be near her.

The surface behind me disappears swiftly, and my head hits the floorboards promptly.

“Alistair,” she whispers, “what are you doing?”

I begin with no excuse ready. “I saw a rat?”

“And what? You were hungry?” She giggles at me – actually giggles. The truth is, her actions earlier today and yesterday could have been purely physical, and it's just my imagination that her personality is changing. Can a soul really change, though?

“What’s going on?” Sierra's voice pops out from the room she's in across the hall.

“Mind your business,” Morgana sighs, sending Sierra right back into her room and closing the door promptly. I suppose that answers the question of whether or not Morgana has changed. She's going through the motions, but it's not like she responded when I told her I was in love with her. “Anyway, I didn’t hurt you just then, did I?” she asks, her voice softening as she stands in the threshold, looking at me with curiosity in her eyes. I suppose, I could be wrong.

“No, my lady, I’m alright.”

“Back to that already?” I blink at her a few times.

“What do you mean?”

“I prefer it when you use my name. I like hearing it in your voice, all that deep and smooth. That half-cocky British accent you have doesn’t hurt either.”

“A habit I picked up from my father.”

“I’ll try to break the habit then, Morgana.” She smiles at my response.

“What are you doing awake?”

“I was coming to see you.”

“Is everything okay? What do you need?” She doesn’t answer me with words but instead lets herself fall forward, wrapping her arms around me. A sensation of relief washes over me as I hold her back. Even if she doesn’t love me, I know some part of her cares deeply for me. That’s all I ever hope for.

24

An Encounter with Death

Morgana

Sierra is still buzzing with excitement, feeling like a member of a secret group. She’s been talking about it all morning. Regardless, we specifically told her under no circumstances will we ever use our powers in front of others. Should she ever attempt to tell anyone, we would simply act like she’s crazy, which wouldn’t be a far stretch for her.

Guiding us through her neighborhood, she directs us through a nearby park, insisting that passing through is the fastest way to get to school. I’m not even sure how I managed to get myself up this morning, let alone let Sierra dress me in the darkest outfit she had—a purple sweater and black jeans. I feel like someone else is wearing my skin.

As we walk along the footpath that cuts through the park, I notice that the children aren’t playing on the playground at all. Instead, the mums who brought them here are sitting together and chatting under a nearby shelter with the bridge. However, there is one child sitting on their own on the swing set, a child I happen to recognize.

"I’ll be right back," I say to Alistair and Sierra. As I begin to walk off, I hear the start of Alistair’s explanation of where I am going and why. Sierra couldn’t see the child sitting on the swing set.

I take a seat on the swing beside the boy with the black silk hair. Like me, he is always wearing black, but the style always changes. Today he’s found himself wearing a long black sleeve T-shirt and torn pants, but as always, no shoes.

“What are you doing here, Death?” I question him.

The pale-skinned boy turns his head to me, his hollow eyes grey and full of emptiness. A wicked smile stretches across his face. “I go where souls will soon be lost. Special ones, of course.”

I roll my eyes at his antics, my concern falling mildly to the parents and their children a short distance from us. “Why can I see you? I’m human now.”

“Just because your powers aren’t as strong as they used to be doesn’t mean they vanish completely.”

Death can sense powers inside me? That means there is a chance to get them back, perhaps even without the dagger. “Good to know.” I let a slight smile hit my lips before it vanishes again. “So who’s dying?”

“You know I can’t tell you.”

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