They know.
Two words was all it took. Two words and her world changed. Those two words were a sucker punch.
Who knew a sticky note could be so devastating?
“Fuck.”
Sera ran a hand through her hair, glared at the note for a moment longer, then snatched it off her front door. Her temples pulsed and her head throbbed. She dropped the morning paper onto the porch and tried to get her racing thoughts in order.
Exercise in futility. She had only one option, and reading the paper over a cup of coffee was not on the list.
No, she needed clothes, her car, and Colin.
Colin.
The pounding in Sera’s head intensified, and she became aware of a growing ache in her chest. But she couldn’t let herself dwell. Not if they knew.
Ten minutes later, Sera had exchanged her pajamas for a T-shirt and jeans and was behind the wheel of her reliable Mustang.
They know.
God, she hated giving bad news.
Especially to her best friend.
And this news redefined bad. It took bad to previously unexplored levels of suckitude.
And it wasn’t even nine in the goddamned morning. Colin was going to flip his shit.
First that she was awake, then that she was at his house. Chances were he’d know something was wrong.
Bad news between best friends was best shared over a gallon of ice cream. Ice cream for breakfast would hit the spot. Or cotton candy. Colin had a thing for cotton candy, no matter how often she warned him that sugar was a dentist’s sworn enemy.
In the end, Sera decided to go with both. Her frazzled mind was too overwhelmed to worry with snack selection. The quick detour to the neighborhood market cost her less than five minutes and yielded all kinds of ice-breaking, life-changey goodness in the form of coffee, cotton candy, and ice cream—cotton-candy-flavored for good measure. It never hurt to be prepared.
Somehow she had made it from her front porch to his, her arms overflowing with her peace offerings, and her heart pounding so fast it was a wonder she didn’t keel over. Showing up at Colin’s house unannounced wasn’t in itself unusual, but he would know the second he opened the door that something was wrong, and the past twenty-five years would effectively be over.
Twenty-five years.
A blink in an otherwise endless existence, yet they had been the happiest twenty-five years in her long, long life.
Sera expelled a deep breath and forced herself forward. She studied the doorbell as though it were an explosive device, then nudged her elbow forward to press it.
The familiar singsong chime rang from inside, teasing the newly hatched ache in her head and making her stomach knot.
At first there was nothing. Not a call, not a scuffle, no sign that anyone was home. And, for that moment, Sera remained suspended between two worlds, hopeful of the possibility that she had more time and dreading it all the same. She didn’t want time to psych herself out, as the real panic had yet to hit.
On the other hand, composing her thoughts on this matter might help her sound like something other than a lunatic.
In truth, she could have a thousand years to prepare, and it wouldn’t be enough. Moreover, he wouldn’t believe her.
Not her extremely rational Colin.
Sera shifted her weight from foot-to-foot, fighting the urge to peek through the windows. She considered pressing the doorbell again, but if Colin were home, he would have heard the first time. His doorbell was one of those musically long chimes that woke the whole neighborhood. He’d received complaints.
So Colin wasn’t home.
Sera’s shoulders dropped. She didn’t know where to go. Her house was out of the question—it wasn’t really hers anymore. Nor was her cushy marketing job, her art studio, her things, or anything of the life she had made for herself. The life she had fooled herself into thinking might actually last.
She didn’t want to go there, knowing this conversation was still ahead. Knowing—
“Sera?”
Sera squeaked inelegantly and whirled around. Colin was standing in the doorway, his warm, brown eyes brimming with concern from behind the glasses that rested crookedly on his nose. His hair—a mess of dark, unmanageable curls that had been a source of constant torment in high school—reliably stood on end, looking even messier than usual. Bed-worn and finger-combed.
Today of all days, he’d slept in.
Great.
“You’re up before noon on a Saturday. Everything all right?” Colin stared at her for a moment before those all-seeing eyes of his dropped to the goodies she had clutched to her chest. “I’m guessing no. Did you rob Mr. Bulky’s?”
“Huh?”
“Here.” He snatched something out of her grasp—the cotton candy, of course—and indicated she should follow him. “Come in before you drip all over the driveway.”
Sera’s tongue had swollen to three times its usual size, her heart hammering faster than ever. “Huh?”
Colin smirked, the concern easing back from his gaze. He seized her elbow with his free hand. “You haven’t had coffee yet, have you? Do you think you might graduate to actual words, or do I have to guess what you’re doing here?”
She blinked and tried very hard not to trip over her feet. She really needed to establish contact with her brain again. “I…uhh…”
“Charades, maybe? Would that help?”
“Charades? What the hell are you talking about?”
“Ah, there she is. You had me worried for a second.” Colin closed the door behind him and released his grip on her. Then he turned his attention to the ice cream still gathered in her arms. “Uh oh.”
“Uh oh?”
“You brought food.”
“Yes, dumbass, as you so wisely observed with your Mr. Bulky’s comment.”
“It’s just…it’s never good when you bring food.”
Sera snickered. “Gee, thanks.”
He narrowed his eyes and glowered at her. “I’m serious.”
“Who says it’s for you?”
“You don’t eat ice cream.”
“I do so eat ice cream.”
“Not cotton-candy flavored, and not full-fat, all sugar.” He pried the carton away from her and held it up for inspection. “Which this is.”
Sera opened her mouth, closed it, then opened it again. “You know what you’re doing, right?”
“Wowing you with my power of observation?”
“You’re being an ass.”
Colin’s hands came up, one full of ice cream, the other cotton candy, as though he was auditioning as the poster child for an anti-diabetes campaign. “And here I thought I just opened the door.” He grinned at her and bobbed his annoyingly adorable head in indication she should follow him inside. His enduringly affable personality was one of the things she admired most about him, and likewise one of the things she hoped would help preserve their friendship.
Because how did one exactly break the news that Heaven and Hell weren’t just fodder for Sunday school stories? Colin had been raised in a fairly open-minded household, which Sera had always put in the plus category. Now, as she trailed him into the kitchen, she found herself reevaluating that theory.
After all, had Colin’s foster parents been of the overly religious variety, convincing him that his birth father was a ruler of the Underworld might not be the mountainous chore it seemed at the present. True, he would spend a good time wigging out, but that was a risk she figured she was running either way.
Sera sighed and parked her ass on one of the barstools by the island. And as she watched Colin fix himself a killer bowl of cotton-candy ice cream, the weight of the moment pressed upon her again. Once again, her tongue felt too large for her mouth, her usually impressive vocabulary reduced to a few grunts and prepositions. She nearly expected her alarm clock to go off at any second—the situation surreal for how real it was. Years of planning this conversation piled against her.
“You’re doing it again,” Colin said, leaning against the counter opposite her, his focus on his ice cream.
“What?”
“That whole ground control to Major Sera thing. Come on, talk to me.” He dipped a spoon into his sugary concoction, the corner of his mouth tilting upward just enough that he dimpled. “You know you want to.”
Sera stared at him, then swallowed. “There’s no easy way to say this.”
“There never is.”
“So I’m just gonna go for it.”
“Seems reasonable.”
She inhaled a deep breath and released it in a jumble of words. “YouareacrownprinceofHell.”
Colin paused, the spoon midway to his mouth. His eyes moved up until they were fixed on hers. “What was that?”
Sera steadied herself. “You are a crown prince of Hell.”
He studied her for a long, quiet moment, blinked, then turned his attention back to his ice cream. “Well, that's not very nice.
She frowned. “No, I mean literally.”
“Ah, that’s much better.” Colin looked away, his expression thoughtful. “It’d be a good angle, but I doubt Higgins would go for it.”
Sera rolled her eyes. Of all the possibilities she’d considered, she’d forgotten where his mind would most likely go. Colin was, in the loosest sense of the term, a reporter for a local tabloid. The sort that swore sideways the Lizard People were in charge and Bigfoot’s cousin was picking off livestock from local farmers. It was a lousy use of his writing ability, but he did get to exercise his love of words and creative muscles.
The role had also hardened his skepticism, because he didn’t take any of the paranormal seriously. And why would he, when the paper only occasionally came close to the truth?
Sera squared her shoulders. “This isn’t for All The Above.”
“Oh?”
“No. I’m being perfectly serious. Your father—your birth father—is a King of the Fifth Circle.”
Colin dipped his chin. “Ah huh. And you’re, what, my fairy godmother?”
She huffed and blew her bangs out of her eyes. “What? When have you ever heard of a demon having a fairy godmother? That’s insane.”
“Oh, so the line for insanity starts at fairy godmother. I’ll try to remember that.”
“I’m an angel. A Fallen Angel, to be more precise.”
Well, close enough. Fallen in every sense of the word, except the literal. Because the thought of Falling for real was fucking scary.
Not going there.
Colin snorted. “I liked it better when this was a story pitch.”
“It was never a story pitch.”
“Of course it was. You just dropped the ball.” He looked up, his eyes narrowed. “Is there anything else?”
“What do you mean, ‘is there anything else’? I just told you that you’re a demon.”
“Yeah, I was here for that part.”
A rush of heat pressed at her chest and climbed her throat. “And is that it?”
Colin took another bite of ice cream, looking thoroughly unimpressed. “Is what it?”
“That’s all the reaction I’m going to get. You’re a demon, and your reaction is to…to…eat ice cream?”
“Hey, you brought it over.”
She smacked her palm against the island. “To help ease the shock!”
“Of what?”
“Being a demon!”
He shrugged. “What can I say? It’s working.”
Sera stared at him blankly, having run headfirst into the largest mental wall she’d ever encountered. Resistance she’d expected. Doubt, laughter, and anger were all on the list. Somehow she’d forgotten that, as sweet and funny as Colin was, at times he was also a stubborn ass-face.
“I get the feeling,” she said, “that you’re not taking me seriously.”
Colin rolled his eyes and looked at her. “Am I supposed to?”
“In a word, yes.”
“Come on, Sera. This is ridiculous.” He pointed the spoon at her. “Even for you.”
A jolt of pure frustration raced down her spine. Humans. Fucking humans. They were the most bipolar race. Only a few short centuries had passed since demons had been the universal scapegoat. Witch burnings and magical thinking had gone the way of the dodo, and with the same smug superiority. Child acting up? Must be the devil. Now people scoffed whenever Jesus appeared in toast.
This stupid race…
Of which, granted, Colin was not a full-fledged member…but he was close enough to count at the moment.
Sera crossed her arms and leaned back. “Well, I’m sorry to say, you don’t have the luxury of doubt. And we should motor. Now.”
Colin arched an eyebrow, dipping the spoon back into his shrinking bowl of ice cream. “Go?”
“Yeah.”
“You just got here.”
“To get you. So we can leave.”
“If you wanted me to leave, you shouldn’t have brought snacks.”
“I’ll remember that the next time I have to shatter the illusion of your reality.”
Colin snickered. “Funny, my reality looks the same from where I’m standing.”
“Just wait.” Sera wet her lips. “Seriously, Colin, we can’t stay here. They know where you are. I’m sorry, but I don’t have time for you to believe me. You just need to come.”
“Mm-hmm,” he murmured, sounding bored. His eyes remained fixated on his ice cream. “And where is it we need to go?”
She inhaled deeply. Though she’d known to expect this question, she hated having to answer. While getting Colin to believe her wasn’t a prerequisite to keeping his ass safe, it would sure as hell make everything a lot easier. He wouldn’t move fast if he didn’t appreciate why, and the more time they spent here, the more opportunity those who would do him harm had to do just that.
Still, she wouldn’t lie to him. From this moment on, she would be nothing if not one-hundred-percent truthful. “Whistler’s World of Wondrous Wonders.”
He stopped dead and looked up again. “Am I missing something, or did you change the topic?”
“Topic’s the same.”
“A carnival. I have to go to a carnival because I’m a demon.”
“I know how it sounds, but yes.”
At last, the amused skepticism faded from his face, but what replaced it wasn’t anything better. It wasn’t often that Colin was pushed to anger—generally, he was one of the most laid-back people Sera had ever encountered, but she’d seen what could happen when his fuse blew. And she knew him well enough that she could identify the stops he’d made on the way to Crankyville. The game he thought she was playing hadn’t paid off in entertainment value, and since he couldn’t see the punch-line, his patience was nearing its end.
“All right,” he said, his tone dancing that precarious line between calm and losing it. “I’ll play. Why?”
Sera wet her lips. “You don’t believe any of this.”
“Gee, who’da thought?”
“And I know it’s coming from left field, but I am completely serious. I need you to gag your inner Scully for a moment, okay?”
She waited, watched as his jaw tightened, his stormy eyes set. Then he nodded shortly, just enough to encourage her to continue.
“First of all…I’m not human.”
“Right,” he said. “Fallen angel. I remember. Hysterical, by the way.”
“Scully, knock it.”
Colin set his ice cream bowl aside and expelled a deep breath. “Right. Proceed.”
She glared at him for a long moment. “My purpose has been to guard you.”
“Guard me? From what?”
“Other demons. Big evil. Your brothers and sisters.”
“I don’t have any brothers and sisters.”
“Not—” She broke off with a sigh, her head tipping back. “Your bio father—”
“Yeah, the devil?”
“King,” she corrected. “He’s the King of the Fifth Circle. You’re not the antichrist.”
“Thank god for small favors, huh?”
Sera scowled at him. “You know what you’re not doing?”
“Buying in to your crackpot theories?”
“No. You’re not gagging your inner Scully.”
“I’m sorry, Sera, but this is ridiculous. Even for you.” Colin tore a hand through his springy brown curls, nearly knocking his glasses off the bridge of his nose. “Are you doing a scene with me? Is that it? Trying out some new role-playing game?”
“I’m not acting, you asswipe. This is me. I’m not being other people, and I’m not feeding you bullshit. Your brothers and sisters want you dead.”
“These brothers and sisters I’ve never met who were born to a devil father?”
“It’s complicated.”
Colin cracked a grin, though the vestiges of anger remained. “I’ll say.”
A long sigh tore off Sera’s lips as she slid off the barstool. “Look,” she said, “I don’t expect you to believe me.”
He lifted a shoulder. “Good.”
“But you will soon.”
“Doubtful.”
A sliver of annoyance raced down her spine. “But for the moment, can you stop being an ass and just…trust me? Something is coming, and it’s coming now. Make fun of me all you want. Call me stupid. Call me crazy. Call me whatever you like, but do it in the car.”
At that, Colin frowned, and the shades of his own anger fell away. He looked at her askance. “I don’t think you’re stupid. I’d never think that.”
She grinned weakly. “That’s something, at least. Please don’t make this harder than it is. Just come with me. And when you’re ready, I’ll answer your questions. But for now, all I need is for you to trust me.”
There was nothing for a long moment. Colin held her eyes, the mirth and condensation slowly fading from his own. It was then—as he looked at her—that she allowed herself an instant of reprieve. For she knew she had him. As hardheaded as he was, as skeptical as he might be, he knew how to read her, and he always trusted that what he saw was true. He knew what she was thinking often before she’d had a chance to make sense of it. He knew what she needed when she needed it. He’d made a study of her over their friendship, and not once had his magical Sera-to-English powers failed him.
There had been only one secret between them, but it was out now. And in time, he would believe. He’d believe everything.
All she needed now was for him to believe in her.
And the longer he looked at her, the more she knew he did.
Finally, Colin released a breath and dipped his head. “Okay.”
Sera sighed, her tense muscles loosening. “Thank you,” she said.
“Yeah, yeah,” he replied. “But I tell you, you’re going to owe me big time.”
A retort sprang to her tongue, but she managed to swallow it. For now—for this last stretch—she’d let him believe it. There was nothing to be gained by arguing, and she’d already wasted enough time.
Before this was over, he’d have a better appreciation for who owed what to whom.