28. Pandora

My heart pounded in my chest as I stood inside Serpentine Stadium. I was right. The chamber filled with sands and mats was still as daunting as I remembered. The air was thick with magic, and the scent of brimstone clung to the cool air as I made my way over to where Reed was standing.

The murmurs of my classmates swirled around, a mix of excitement and nerves for today”s Demonic Feeding class. Apparently, word had gotten around that Daryl was coming, and everyone wanted to see what he was capable of. I mean, he was Death, and everyone had heard stories about him. From what Dreadful told me, other supernaturals had bedtime stories of soul eaters being a demon type that would come after you if you were bad. Daryl was evidently the reason for the depravity of a soul eater’s reputation.

“Hey!” Reed’s gaze lit up as he noticed me. “How was your day yesterday? I waited for you after class, but I couldn’t find you.”

“I’m sorry…I had an unwanted interaction,” I murmured, my gaze locking with the glares of Dex, Hemlock, and Skel. Their glowers seemed to cut through the space between us. I could feel the hatred from Hemlock’s, the intensity of Dex’s, and the regret in Skel’s. “I’m really sorry for leaving you after class, Reed. I just wanted to go talk to Nebula after everything.”

“I get that,” he murmured, violet eyes piercing mine as I gave him my full attention. “I had to have a chat with Gumdrop last night, too.”

The doors of the chambers burst open, and as we glanced over, I saw Daryl, known to everyone else as Death, striding in with his commanding presence. Long black hair, just like mine, swayed behind him, and his dark eyes found mine instantly. His footsteps crunched against the sand as the classroom fell into a heavy silence as he made his way to the front next to Ashenfell.

“Alright, class, as I’m sure you’re aware, Death is gifting us with his presence today. Not only is he a soul eater, but he’s the soul eater representative on the Demon Council,” Ashenfell informed us, his voice bouncing around the large, open area. “This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to watch him feed.”

“Don’t make it sound so grand,” Daryl snapped, his eyes rolling. “Today, you’ll be practicing the art of feeding like you usually do. As demons, it is our lifeblood, the core of our being. As soul eaters are rare, I’m here to help my daughter.” His lips curved into a smile as he made a spectacle of our father-daughter status. I wouldn’t lie, though. It warmed something inside of me.

“She’s going to learn to feed today without killing someone. Right now.” He turned to me, and I felt everyone’s eyes follow. “Come on, now.”

A collective gasp rippled through the class.

Reed bumped my elbow with his. “You’ve got this.”

I nodded, and with a hesitant step, I joined him at the front. “Daryl, I—” I began, but he held up a hand.

“To feed properly, one must embrace their demon form,” he instructed, his gaze piercing into me. “Show them, Pandora.”

My heart skipped, but I steadied my breathing. I tried, I really, really did. But as I closed my eyes, willing my demon form to come out, nothing happened. I couldn’t feel any magic. My cheeks warmed with embarrassment, and whispers snaked through the room.

“That’s just it, isn’t it?” Hemlock sneered loudly. “Even though she’s a noble and Death’s daughter, she’s weak. This is such a big deal because why? Because they’re nobles? You all make me sick.”

The words stung, and my face flushed hotter. But before I could muster a response, my father’s form blurred. In an instant, he was in front of Hemlock, his hand gripping his face and thumb slipping into Hemlock’s septum piercing’s hoop.

Skel stumbled back, falling back over his feet at my father being so close, while Dex’s grin widened as he watched in amusement.

Hemlock’s eyes widened in shock.

Daryl whispered, “We do not need to kill to feed, Pandora. Watch this.”

I watched, frozen, as my father siphoned a dark wisp of Hemlock’s soul, his black eyes glowing with an eldritch light as the soul went directly into his eyes.

Hemlock shuddered, his arrogance replaced with a vulnerability I didn’t know him to be capable of. “Fuck, I need a drink.”

“Ah, ah, ah.” Daryl tugged at Hemlock’s piercing. “Now, you try.” He turned back to me with an expectant gaze.

I twisted my ring, and it was oddly white at the moment—even with the chaos around us. “I—I can’t,” I stammered, my voice barely a whisper. “What if I kill him?”

“What loss would that be, really?” Daryl asked, his voice hard. “Unlike him, you are not weak, as he suggested.”

“Daryl,” I whispered harshly. “He’s just a drunk. Ignore him.”

Hemlock’s gaze bore into mine with more hatred, but they exploded with pain as Daryl yanked the piercing from his nose, a flap of skin hanging down a moment before healing back.

Daryl tossed the hoop at Hemlock’s face. “This isn’t as flattering as you think it is.”

Ashenfell took control again after that and made everyone else pair off.

Daryl and I had practiced activating my powers, but nothing happened. It was a conundrum, but he thought it was because I hadn’t ever used them before. He still didn’t understand how I survived without awakening. Honestly, I didn’t either.

“I could remove that chaos demon, Hemlock, for you,” he offered awkwardly, grim humor in his tone. “Council privileges have their perks, plus, all I have to do is outstretch a hand toward him, and he’d drop dead.”

I managed a weak smile but shook my head. “No, Daryl, that won’t be necessary. I can handle myself, believe it or not.”

“You’re my daughter. I’m allowed to be concerned,” he told me with a frown. “Right?”

“Of course,” I assured him. “And I appreciate the concern. I really do. But if anything, I feel sorry for Hemlock. He’s always drunk and miserable. Someone like that must’ve been through something to get that way.”

He pouted, rolling his eyes. “Fine, but if he messes with you again, just tell your dad.”

A giggle broke out of me, and I nodded. “Sure, Daryl. I’ll let you know.”

His lips quirked up in a victorious smirk.

Daryl had morecouncil duties that I was pretty sure had to do with dark magic, so he had to leave shortly after class ended. By the time I looked for Reed, he had left, too. I decided to head to the library to research activating my powers, but as I passed by Cryptic Altar, I saw Hemlock arguing fiercely with another demon I hadn’t seen before.

He had the same red eyes as Hemlock, but unlike Hemlock, the guy had red hair cut in a short style.

“I never asked you to come!” Hemlock snarled.

He looked desperate as he reached out and clutched Hemlock’s arm. “But I’m here. You can keep pushing me away all you want, but I’ll still be here, Bram.”

“You haven’t been here!” Hemlock growled as he yanked his arm away. His horns slipped from his skull as his tail whipped angrily behind him. “You’ve never fucking been there. Don’t start now.”

“That’s not fair, and you know it,” the guy whispered brokenly. “If I had known about you, I?—”

“You’d what?” Hemlock shouted, anger thick in his tone. “Take pity on the low-class demon because we share a shitty dad?”

“But I was a kid, too.” His voice dropped as he stepped close to Hemlock, who was the same height. Now that I looked closer, they looked like they were related. “Why do you blame me for that?”

Hemlock’s jaw clenched as he turned his head, spotting me. He snapped, “What? Come to gloat about Daddy taking up for you?”

“No, I—” I faltered, the words getting stuck in my throat.

His brother’s expression softened as he noticed me. “Be nice,” he scolded Bram before turning to me with an apologetic smile. “Don’t mind him. I’m his brother. You can call me Slater. We can skip pesky last names. Are you alright?”

I nodded, feeling a smile tug at my lips. “You can call me Pandora, then. You’re a lot more…welcoming than your brother.”

“He’s not my fucking brother. Don’t stick your nose where it doesn’t belong, brat,” Hemlock growled.

“That hurts my feelings,” Slater whispered.

The smile fell off my face as I glanced toward Hemlock. It seemed like he’d already re-pierced his septum. “Sorry about my dad.”

“Her dad?” Slater blinked, glancing at his brother…or not brother?

“Yeah, he fucking ate a piece of my soul in class. Now, I’m not drunk for some fucking reason, and I need to remedy that now.”

Realization dawned on Slater’s face. “You’re Death’s daughter. Fates. I should be the one apologizing.”

“Oh, no. You don’t have to.” I placed my hands up, palms facing outward. “Um, sorry for interrupting.”

I turned and fled, thankful to get away from the thick awkwardness around the two of them. Calming my nerves, I hoped the Demonic Archives would have some kind of advice for a demon that didn’t know how to bring forth any of her powers.