Chapter 15.1
"--and then, when I woke up, my claws were back and I'd ripped through my sheets!"
"I mean, kinda just sounds like a bad dream. Everyone has them."
"But why drunk driving? Why do I remember it so vividly?" Amara asked, absentmindedly pushing her hands into her pockets.
"Didn't you say you can't get drunk anymore? Maybe it's combining that with your feelings about the party?"
"That's a stretch, Nick, even by my standards."
"Hey, I'm an architect. If you seriously want someone to examine your dreams, go ask Tessa or something. I hear witches love that stuff." Nick shrugged as he pushed the crosswalk button, waiting for traffic to stop.
The two continued bickering, trying to guess if Tessa seemed like the type to read into dreams, as they continued their walk. It was early in the afternoon, and Amara's hair fluttered in the light autumn breeze. She wore black shorts, her legs visible through the many holes of the distressed denim, and a loose red shirt that hung off one shoulder. All the students they passed wore sweaters, jackets, and other appropriately warm items, but Amara's body was incapable of feeling cold. Her camera bag hung at her side, its weight comforting her as they turned the final corner, the Jade Palace now in sight.
At least, what remained of it.
The blackened skeleton of the house's frame still stood, for the most part. One wall had collapsed, and now lay in pieces amongst the ashes, but the others had managed to hold their place. Bits of plumbing were visible, resembling iron veins that had long ago stopped pumping, and Amara also saw hints of where the wiring had previously run. The lot was covered mostly by charred remains of the building, with some larger pieces that survived the fire still visible.
The debris wasn't completely undisturbed. She could see a few sets of tracks leading in and out of the ashes, likely from curious students eager for a thrill. There were also signs of people rummaging through the lot, though she doubted the Palace had held anything worth scavenging.
Amara paused, unknowingly holding her breath as she clutched the strap of her bag. She closed her eyes, trying to keep her memories at bay, and was thankfully interrupted by Nick's voice.
"Hey, we can still turn back. Chloé will understand if--"
"No." Amara said quickly. "I need to do this."
She swallowed nervously, then resumed walking towards the building. The lot had been taped off by the emergency services, but no one was here to enforce it. Over the last week, Amara had hyperfixated on the aftermath, desperate to know what was going to happen, but she'd only heard rumors. Some students said the insurance wasn't up to date, some thought the building didn't actually have an owner, but the only concrete fact was that cleanup had yet to begin.
That's why I'm here. Chloé needs these pictures to help with the fundraising.
Setting her bag down, Amara took a few minutes to set up her camera. She took her time, double and triple checking each step of the process. After a few test shots, she moved closer and ducked under the caution tape.
Looking over the lot, she realized she was standing by the back entrance. The door lay in pieces just past the frame, shattered from her panicked rush to escape. She could still see indentations in the grass, impressions of where she'd landed with Vee. The smell of iron filled her senses, mixing with the smoke drifting off the burning house. Sirens screeched in the distance, the noise mixing with the sickening sound of lumber snapping inside the house. She locked eyes with Vee, bloodied and bruised on the ground, her face--
Shut up! It's over!
Amara shook her head, the smoke and sirens vanishing as she grabbed her camera. She raised it higher, between herself and her memories, then snapped her first pictures.
*CLICK*
Once she'd gathered enough material, she began circling the house. Just past the frame, she could now see what had previously been the main room. She recognized the furniture, even after it had been warped by the fire, and the loft was clearly visible, though it was now half buried in the rubble. Its railing had been scattered, and she remembered kicking it apart herself, having just smothered the exits in hellfire. Heat began drifting off of the ashes, the fire spreading as she urged it to grow stronger. It was a part of her, a living, breathing weapon that longed to consume everything it--
*CLICK*
She took another deep breath, focusing on the pictures.
The fire's gone. Keep moving.
Moving towards the front of the house, she saw there was still litter from the party. Cigarettes, red plastic cups, a few discarded costume pieces. The excitement of the party returned, the joy of showing everyone her true form, of reveling in their adoration. Eager hands caressed her tail, her horns, a few trying to cop a feel elsewhere. She'd never felt so desired, though now she felt guilty thinking about such things.
*CLICK*
She raised the camera higher, looking into the kitchen. The breakfast bar was still standing, which was impressive given the destruction everywhere else. Hints of alcohol returned to her lips, every drink graciously donated by a horny college student eager for a dance, if not more. The more she drank, the more she realized it didn't affect her, which had only intensified her desire to feed.
*CLICK*
I'm more than that. I have to be.
Amara pushed onward, locking her memories away behind her pictures. She knew she was almost finished, and she quickly glanced back at Nick before continuing.
The last side of the building had fared well, all things considered. The bulk of the fire had been in the main room, as the flames hadn't spread until after they'd left the bedroom. Most of the drywall here had been destroyed, and she could see sections of the floor had collapsed. Through the gaps, she could see the room Vee had pulled her into.
She had replayed her conversation with Vee thousands of times. She'd learned so little, they'd barely spent any time talking, but there was so much wanted to know.
"Stop fucking lying to me!"
Amara winced, the pain from that moment returning. The pain from the magic, the Enochian assaulting her very essence, had paled in comparison to the look on Vee's face. She moved her hand to her cheek, lingering on that moment, the end of their last conversation.
When she pulled her hand away, it was unexpectedly wet.
*CLICK*
She rested her camera at her hip, held up by its straps, as she moved her hands to her face. She took a deep breath, then brushed away the rest of her tears.
I'm so sorry, Vee.
A hand appeared on her shoulder, pulling her back to her senses. She looked back at Nick, who was opening the camera bag for her. The look on her face was obvious, but he said nothing as he helped her put the camera away.
A few minutes passed in silence before Amara spoke up.
"Hellfire."
Nick gave her a questioning look.
"My flames, they're hellfire."
He paused, likely being careful with his words. "How do you figure?"
"I don't entirely know. Maybe Vee said something while we were... y'know, but it could've been something else. There's still so much I don't know about everything that's happening to me, maybe demons just know this shit innately."
She zipped up her bag, slinging it over her shoulder again before turning to leave the lot. Ducking under the caution tape, her and Nick began the walk back to campus.
"You ever practice with it?" Nick asked.
"Practice? After what happened?" She gestured back at the remains of the Palace, huffing as she picked up her pace. "I'm better off forgetting about it completely."
Nick jogged after her, matching stride before changing the topic to something else. Amara was more than happy to leave any talk of hellfire, as well as the Palace, behind her.
---
Amara did her best to catch up with all her classwork, but it was still difficult to focus on the mundanity of school. Her teachers had, for the most part, been willing to give her extensions on most of her work, but this was the second time she'd skipped a week of school, and it was taking its toll. If nothing else, it helped to have a distraction from her own thoughts.
She was currently doing her best to engage with a U.S. history lecture. They had recently started a multi-week unit entirely focused on World War II, and were exploring its origins towards the end of the 1930's.
"--and even though the Anschluss was a direct violation of international treaties that had been established after World War I, Germany faced no consequences. I mentioned earlier the idea of Appeasement, and this is a prime example. In their eagerness to avoid another great war, major players on the international stage--"
Amara yawned as the professor kept talking. She wasn't entirely uninterested in history, but she much preferred classes with more practical applications. She shifted in her seat, rolling her neck, and glanced around at the other students around her.
Interestingly, she noticed that quite a few of them were sweating. Most of the students with extra layers had removed them, and some were using notebooks to fan themselves. Now that she was looking, she noticed the professor had removed his blazer, and his sleeves had been rolled up.
As the lecture continued, it became clear that the heat was only getting worse. They even paused class momentarily so the professor could help open all the windows, which were old and stubborn. He also clarified that the school was aware of the problem but had no timeline on when it would be fixed. A thought popped into Amara's head, and she pulled out her phone.
Amara: You have any classes in Brandt today?
Tessa: nah, skipped em
Tessa: why?
Amara: Everyone here is sweating like crazy, and the teacher says the heats busted.
Tessa: so? im not a plumber
Amara: What if it's a circle? You said the one in Lysander made things really cold, so what if this is like that? But with heat?
Amara: Also plumbers aren't for heating
Tessa: dam, thats a good idea. count me in
Tessa: tonite? after dinner?
Tessa: electrician watever idc
Amara rolled her eyes, unsure if Tessa was joking or not. Thankfully the heat didn't affect her, and she stayed comfortable for the rest of class. Soon enough, the lecture ended, and she grabbed her things to leave. She was still texting Tessa, but also had a conversation going with Chloé about the charity. As she left the lecture hall, she accidentally walked into another student, knocking his books to the floor.
"Shit, sorry!" Amara said, shoving her phone in her pocket before kneeling to help clean up.
"Well, what are the odds? Second time now you haven't watched what you're stepping into, Amara."
She froze, finally looking up at who she'd bumped into. Brandon smiled back at her, his smirk bringing back painful memories. They locked eyes, the tension palpable as they paused momentarily. She pulled her hands back, no longer interested in helping him pick up his mess.
"What, here for payback?" She asked.
"I just want to talk, nothing more." He slowly picked up his books, keeping his voice down as he placed them in his backpack.
Amara fought to hold back her anger, fully aware that they were surrounded by other students. Standing up, she began walking to the exit before looking back at him. "Five minutes."
He picked up the pace, now matching her stride as they left the building. "I owe you an apology. What I did was wrong, and I accept that."
"Likely story. You're just upset I escaped."
"On the contrary, I'm glad you did. It made me reexamine myself, and I realized I didn't like who I was becoming."
"And all it took was enslaving a fellow student? Truly your empathy knows no bounds." Amara snapped. She turned off the main path, hoping to avoid accidental eavesdropping as they kept talking.
"Except you're not just a student, we both know that. You're so much more, yet you continue to waste your time with classes and schoolwork!"
Amara glared at him, realizing what he'd just admitted to. "So you're following me?"
"We go to the same college, and we happened to cross paths a few times. Not that weird." Brandon cleared his throat, pausing for a second. "Why bother with school? You've got power that most people can only dream of."
"Can we cut the bullshit? Tell me why you're here, we both know it's not just to get to know me."
"Alright, fine, I'm not just here to apologize. Though, for what it's worth, getting to know each other would be nice." Amara glared at him, refusing to acknowledge his statement. A moment passed before he finally started talking again. "I think we can help each other out."
"Please, what could you possibly do for me?"
"I can give you my soul."
Amara stopped in her tracks, shocked at his offer. The look in his eyes told her he was serious, and she grew sick to her stomach even thinking about it. "I don't do that."
"C'mon, we both know what you are. Without souls to feed on, you'll wither away. At the end of the day, you're a demon."
"What, you're an expert on demons now?"
"I've done my homework, and everything I've read says the same thing. Your body is wired differently, and there's no fighting biology; sooner or later, you'll give in to those instincts. Don't act like it hasn't already happened."
"You don't know anything about me!" Amara hissed.
"People show their true colors when they're backed into a corner. You're a succubus, right? You didn't hesitate to strip down when you needed an edge over me. I saw how easy it was for you to get on your knees, to beg for my--"
Amara grabbed his shirt, shoving him against a nearby building. Her eyes flared as she pinned him to the wall. "Finish that sentence and you'll regret it."
"I'm offering you a way out, a way to take control of what you are!"
In the corner of her vision, Amara realized that a couple students had slowed down, watching the hushed exchange between her and Brandon. She scared them off with a glare, then turned back to the matter at hand. "I don't know what sick fantasy you're dreaming up, but you can forget it. I'll make this easy; if you come near me or my friends again, you'll regret it. You have no idea what I'm capable of."
Without giving him a chance to respond, Amara released her grip and turned away. This time, thankfully, Brandon let her leave.
I just wish I did.