Chapter 17

17

A fter several minutes of me yelling at Gabe for using drugs and him yelling back that it was for work and our grandfather did it too, Stefan finally told me that Jesus also enjoyed getting high, and that shut me up. I spent the rest of the ride staring at the roof, wondering why my life had lost all sense of normality. Jesus Christ was a pothead.

The golf cart finally stopped, so I assumed we were at our destination. Gabe sighed when I didn't bother moving. "Will you stop being mad at me already? I promised to try to find another method if it'll make you happy."

"Also, he's already dead," Stefan reminded me. "He could smoke battery acid and it wouldn't do anything permanent to him."

"You're all insane," I said, but I finally righted myself and eyed the building we parked in front of. "It looks like a box. An enormous, striped box."

Stefan made a weird choking noise, and Tempest let out a bark that sounded like a laugh. Gabe, on the other hand, looked like I had personally offered to sacrifice kittens or something. "A box," he echoed.

"I mean..." I gestured at the enormous structure. "It's a big rectangular prism. With concrete stripes in between windows."

"It's a shining example of International Style architecture!"

"It's a big concrete box," Stefan told him, and I was happy to have someone agree with me. "But don't worry, show him the inside. Maybe he'll be more enthusiastic about that." He turned his attention to me, widened his eyes, and shook his head.

I laughed, making Gabe look so insulted you'd think he'd designed the place himself. He let out a huff and stomped off toward the building.

"Think he'll stay mad?" I asked, a little worried.

Stefan gave me a grin, flashing his pointy teeth at me. Was it weird that I was getting used to his fangs? "Nah," he assured me. "His sense of style is stuck on midcentury modern for some reason. The inside of the building is like his apartment times one hundred. It's not ugly or anything, but it's not my thing."

When we got into the building, I had to agree with his assessment. It was like going into an old building that also happened to be brand new. Instead of entering the building in our current timeline, we'd somehow time-traveled sixty years back when we'd walked through the doors. Maybe it was all the mirrored tile and chrome. Gabe started going on about the quality of the glass and stonework, and I took a 'nod and smile' approach and just let him talk. Better than having him look at me like I'd been kicking puppies.

We got onto an elevator, which was playing music that made me want to run screaming, and after a swipe of Gabe's security badge, we made our way up. And up. And still up.

"Just where is your office?" I asked.

"Top floor," he told me. "My desk is outside the elevator, so I can glare at people as they disembark. It's great."

"And you can even see his desk now," Stefan added. "Before he started, the area was full of documentation and reports that people kept dumping."

"Yeah, well, I fixed that," Gabe said, grinning so evilly as the doors opened that I was starting to understand why he'd opted to stay in Hell.

The reception area looked much like the lobby had, with a lot of stone and glass and the air of something from a bygone era. It also had a peculiarly egg-shaped desk chair, which I attributed to my brother's tastes.

"Honey, I'm home," Gabe called.

"But he's definitely not a workaholic or anything," Stefan whispered to me, his tone heavy with sarcasm.

I snickered.

"Back here," Stan yelled somewhere off in the distance. "Bring Zeke with you. I'd like to introduce him to the other attendees of my current meeting."

I assumed our grandparents must be in there, though telling me he'd introduce me to them seemed weird. I mean, we'd already met. I shrugged it off and followed Gabe and Stefan down a hallway.

The first thing I noticed was that Stan's office was just as bad as Gabe's apartment in terms of ambiance, and it was then that I realized they were soulmates. There could be no other explanation for all the mustard yellow and the oddly shaped wall clock. Then I noticed the room's occupants and was even more confused. I wasn't sure why Stan was holding a meeting with a multi-colored cat and what was either a giant rodent or a tiny dog, but there they were, sitting on the chairs across the desk from him.

Stan looked up and smiled. "It's fine, come in."

I was pretty sure the animal that wasn't a cat was indeed a tiny dog because it got up on its hind legs, rested its front paws on the chair's back, and wagged its tail as it panted at me. "Human!" the dog called out cheerfully. "Human human human! Pet me!"

The cat sighed. "And there goes the meeting."

I crossed the room and obediently petted the dog, whose tail would fly off if it wagged any faster. "Hi," I said softly. "Who are you?"

"They work here," Stan told me. I looked up at him, and the shock must have shown on my face because he raised an eyebrow in return. "What, you think animal abusers don't belong in Hell?"

"Oh, they definitely belong in Hell," I said quickly. "I just figured the hellhounds were for that sort of situation."

"Sometimes," the cat answered. "But you'd be surprised how terrified abusers are of the cute, helpless creatures down here. I'm Koi, by the way. The one you're petting is Oliver, but you can call him Butt. Mister Butt."

The dog looked at her and growled. "My name is not Mister Butt!"

"His human ended up nicknaming him Tiny Butt because he was so small, and it kind of evolved," Koi explained. "But considering she adopted him as a senior and gave him the best years of his life, she can be forgiven. Besides, my human would call me Shnoogie Boogie Koi Koi when they were in a mood, so me judging anyone else's nickname is kind of hypocritical. They even had a song for it." The cat shook her head, but I detected fondness behind their facade. "Humans are weird."

Oliver whimpered, and his previously energetic tail drooped. "I miss my human."

Koi reached out a paw and patted him on the head. "I know. Big sister Koi will take you to haunt her on our next day off. How does that sound? Maybe we can play with your new baby brothers and have them drive your human nuts when they keep staring at what she can't see."

Oliver perked a bit at that, and his tail started going again. "So, did you guys have the same owner or something?" I asked.

Koi laughed. "Oh, definitely not. I wouldn't have tolerated a house with dogs. But my human was a friend of the family. I got here first, and now we're working down here until our humans show up." The cat paused, tilting her head in thought. "Probably after they show up, too. The work is pretty rewarding."

"Your grandparents are downstairs, in case you're wondering," Stan said, smiling as Gabe and Stefan both gave out pats and scritches before Koi pulled herself into my arms with a demand that I snuggle her. Tempest went nose-to-nose with Oliver, licked his face, then sat down next to Gabe's feet. "I'll meet you down there once I'm done here."

"I think we've covered everything," Koi told him as she purred quietly in my arms, rubbing her face against my chin.

"You sure?" Stan asked. "I don't want to cut things short if there are still issues to address."

The cat gave me one more boop before wriggling from my arms, back onto the chair next to Oliver, and then onto the floor. "Nah, we're good. If anything else comes up, I'll email for another meeting." She looked up at me, her amber eyes holding a friendly look. "It was lovely to meet you," she said. Then she rubbed against my legs and strolled out the door.

Oliver continued to lean against the back of the chair, staring up at me. I stared down at him, wondering what was up. "Am I a good boy?" he finally asked, and I nearly died from the cuteness.

Instead, I reached out and ruffled the fur between his ears. "You are such a good boy," I assured him. "One of the best." He panted happily, jumped off the chair, and took off after Koi.

I watched him go, then turned to Stan. "I won't lie. I kind of needed that."

He grinned in response. "I kind of thought you might, given how chaotic it's been."

"So where are the grands?" Gabe asked as he took a seat on the edge of Stan's desk. Stan reached out and took his hand, and they stared at each other with metaphorical hearts in their eyes. I was going to get cavities just being near them.

I gave them a moment, then cleared my throat noisily. They both startled, and I heard Stefan snicker under his breath. It was obvious this was a common occurrence.

"Your grandparents," Stan said, his cheeks going pink. "Right. They're in the basement."

Gabe snorted. "What, they're so ready to go that they're just going to stand in front of the summoning circle and wait for us?"

"Nah, they're getting lunch." Stan looked up at him, brow wrinkled. "You guys did eat, right?"

"Breakfast," I said. "Before we started shopping."

"So it's been a while," Stan said, the furrows on his brow deepening. It had only been a couple of hours, but maybe meals were a frequent thing in Hell. This had to have been part of the whole demon metabolism thing.

My stomach growled, and this time, I was the one blushing.

"Yeah, that's the sound of needing something to eat. Hey, you can grab something to take to Abby so she has a souvenir," Gabe said with a grin. "I know the perfect thing, too. We were talking about it last night."

"You're a good brother," I said, and I meant it. I loved that he was thinking of Abby and what we could get her that would make her smile. Once again, I was struck by how fortunate Abby and I were to have him at our backs.

Gabe gave me a dismissive wave, but I saw his blush deepen before he stood. "Come on, let's show you the food court. You'll get a kick out of it, and I can get Stefan the crepe I owe him."

"I thought you said you weren't going to," I teased.

"Hey, you didn't have to remind him," Stefan protested with a laugh. He cuffed me playfully on the back of the head, then gently pushed me forward in front of him. "Come on, back to the elevator."

We took the very long journey downstairs again, passing the lobby to stop a floor below. The doors opened, and I was a little surprised. I'd been expecting a more....basement-looking basement, I supposed, but this just looked as polished as the rest of the building.

"Come on, this way," Stefan said, grabbing my hand and dragging me out of the elevator's car. Gabe, Stan, and Tempest followed at a more sedate pace, and for a moment, I wondered if we were going to lose them, but I supposed they knew where they were going. It was a food court. It couldn't be that big, could it?

I ate those words once we reached our destination. The place looked like it held every restaurant to have ever existed. A piece of paper was waved in my face, and I looked up to see Gabe grinning at me. When had they caught up? "Here," he told me. "It's a map."

I stared at the 11x17 sheet he'd handed me, my mind screaming at all the choices in front of me. How was I even supposed to choose when I had no idea what most of this was? A familiar hand landed on my shoulder, and I looked up to see that Gabe's grin had gentled to a soft smile. "Do you trust me?"

"Implicitly," I answered immediately.

His smile grew into a grin again, and he nodded toward something behind him. "Follow me."

I did as he said, noting as we walked that every shop we passed smelled heavenly, which was ironic considering where we were. How did anyone ever decide which of these to settle on? I posed the question to Stan, and he chuckled. "Well," he said, "you have to keep in mind I've been down here for thousands of years. A lot of us have. So we've actually had time to try everything."

Oh. That brought me up short. It was easy to forget how long my brother-in-law had been around. It must have been evident from my expression because he nodded. "I know," he said, almost consolingly. "It's a lot. Think of it this way: you'll get to try everything here at some point, too."

"Except maybe the balut place," Gabe chimed in.

"What's balut?" I asked.

"Not before you eat," Stefan said immediately. "I can guess what your reaction would probably be since your parents didn't raise you to partake in the food of other cultures. Look it up later. Much later. Just know that some people find it delicious, and they're allowed that opinion. We don't yuck other people's yum."

"We've used it in some restitution scenarios," Stan added.

Yeah, I was pretty sure I wasn't curious enough to find out. Maybe. Or at least not until I'd safely digested my lunch.

It felt like a fifteen-minute hike to our destination, and Gabe immediately walked up to the counter and placed a lengthy order. "Let's go find a seat," Stefan suggested. "I'll text your grandmother so she knows where we are. If I know them, they're due east of our current location, at the Italian place they frequent."

"What about you?" I asked him. "What's your favorite?"

Stefan laughed, and I noted not for the first time that it made him even more handsome. It made it hard to concentrate on what he was saying. "I have way too many favorites to list," he admitted as he led me to an area filled with tables and chairs, most of which looked occupied. "Want to try some with me sometime? I work here too, after all, so if you come to the office when your brother does, we can hang out."

I got the feeling Stefan did more hanging out than working. But I appreciated that at the moment because he was fun to spend time with, and okay, it didn't hurt that he was easy on the eyes. "Yeah," I said. "I'd like that."

"It's a date, then," the vampire said cheerfully. "Or, rather, several dates. We can't eat everyone all at once, even with the appetite you likely inherited."

My face went up in flames. A date? Had he been asking me out on a date? Or was he speaking metaphorically? Or was he just being a flirt like he'd said he always was? I was so confused. The butterflies in my stomach were lovely, though. I decided just to enjoy the sensation and try not to think too hard about it.

Stefan somehow managed to find us a large table, claiming it immediately and baring his fangs at anyone who looked like they might ask if they could join us.

"So," he said once it had been made clear to everyone around us that they could not join us or take one of our chairs to another table. "You've got about five minutes before your brother waddles over here carrying enough food for a small army. What do you want to know?"

I stared at him momentarily, pondering the question before finally asking, "Are any of the fictional vampire rules true? Sunlight, having to be invited in, that sort of thing? I already know garlic is a myth."

He blinked at me, looking surprised, then grinned. "I was expecting you to ask me to tell you embarrassing stories about Gabe, but you want to know more about me?"

I wondered if it was my imagination or if his cheeks were getting pink. I had to have been imagining it. "Sorry," I said immediately because apologizing seemed to be my default reaction to just about everything. I'd need to unlearn that at some point. "If you'd rather not talk about it?—"

"No no," Stefan interrupted quickly, shaking his head. "I'm flattered. To be honest, none of us are sure about the sunlight thing, but also none of us want to try it. It seems like a very...unwise...thing to experiment with if it's true."

I made a face and nodded in agreement. Turning into ash and ceasing to exist was about as permanent as you could get. Or was it? If the inhabitants of Hell healed quickly, wouldn't they just kind of naturally undo the desiccation process? I could see it going either way, so yeah. Better not to mess with that.

"And I'm positive there are people who wish we had to be invited in because I'm told how annoying I am all the time. But no, we're just as free to enter or exit a building as anyone else."

"I don't think you're annoying," I interjected immediately.

Stefan grinned another toothy grin at me, and no, I wasn't imagining it. His cheeks were getting pink. This, in turn, made my face heat up. "Well, thanks," he said. "I appreciate that."

"So," I said, returning to a safer topic, "what about the blood thing? I've seen you eat actual food."

Stefan pondered his answer a moment, making a face as he did. "Technically, we can drink it," he said. "I mean, we do it in restitution scenes and it does provide enough nutrients for us to live off of. Let's be real, though. Would you drink blood if you could have a burger instead?"

I laughed, probably a little awkwardly. "Well, the only burgers I've ever had were part of the school lunches, and they weren't great, so..."

I got a horrified look in response. "Okay, yeah, we'll be fixing that, too." He tilted his head to one side and stared at me. I was just about to ask what was wrong when he asked, "Is there anything you want to do now that you can? Now that you have some freedom, I mean. Gabe's told me some of it, and it sounded like your entire life was dictated to you."

"Pretty much," I agreed with a sigh. I studied my hands, embarrassed to admit to just how limited my life experiences were. "I'm not sure how to answer your question, honestly. I want to experience a lot of things, and probably some things I don't even know are a thing. I want to figure out what I'm doing and where I'm going from here because, honestly, having my world open up like it has is a little terrifying. I want to start therapy because seriously, I have so many issues to work through it isn't even funny."

"That's an excellent plan," Stefan assured me, reaching across the table to put a hand on mine. The butterflies in my stomach started knocking around again, and I tried to ignore them while I listened. I was only partially successful. "Seriously, I'm proud of you for recognizing that you'd benefit from seeing a therapist. Gabe's been worried about bringing it up because he didn't want you to think he believed anything was wrong with you." He grinned, and there was so much fondness behind that smile that it almost made me uncomfortable. "Your brother is terrified of doing something wrong," he told me. "Don't tell him I told you, but his biggest fear is doing or saying something to make you walk away. I won't get into his issues because if he wants to talk about them, that's on him, but know that he has them too."

"He's nuts," I snorted with no small amount of disbelief. "He's one of the best things that's ever happened to me. He'd have to turn out to be a mass murderer for me to stop talking to him, and even then, I'm not sure that would stop me."

"You know that, and I know that," Stefan agreed. "And I think he knows that, really. Deep down. But your mom..." The vampire sighed and leaned back, his hand leaving mine and making me think about reaching out and pulling it back. I never would have guessed someone who was undead could have such warm hands. "He may not have had to deal with her for quite as long, and she may not have been as bad then as she's gotten, but she screwed him up. Stan talked him into seeing a therapist, and it's been helping."

I nodded. "I'll bring up the topic," I promised. "In regards to me, not him, I mean. I won't pry."

"I didn't think you would," Stefan said, smiling before his attention moved somewhere over my left shoulder. "Here they come," he cautioned.

I turned to see Gabe and Stan carrying more containers than should have been physically possible. Tempest walked in front of them, apparently clearing people out of their way because the crowd parted around them as if the hellhound were channeling Moses. I went to jump up to help, but Stefan pulled me back down. "Don't do it," he said with a laugh. "I tried once, and all it accomplished was everything getting dropped because they're basically carrying Jenga towers. I have no idea how they manage it."

I shook my head in disbelief as I watched my brother and his boyfriend slowly make their way over and carefully set everything on the table. They immediately unstacked and sorted things into groups. "Steamed pork buns," Gabe said, pointing at one. He continued to point at the other piles, listing them off. "Scallion pancakes, fried tofu, garlic noodles, popcorn chicken, and garlic edamame." He grabbed one of a couple containers he'd set aside from the rest and handed it to Stefan. "Your crepe, sir. Custard, condensed milk, caramel sauce, bananas, coffee ice cream, and enough whipped cream to sink a ship."

"My hero," Stefan said reverently as he took the container. On the other hand, I was trying not to make a face. That sounded like more sugar than belonged in one dish. Unfortunately, I must have failed because Stefan just grinned at me. "It's not as sweet as it sounds," he promised. "I'll let you have a bite."

"I've told them what we want them to prepare once we're ready to leave," Gabe told me as he set down the drink carrier he'd hung on the end of his tail to carry back with everything else. "So you can take Abby a crepe and some boba milk tea."

He handed me a drink, and I stared at it. "Why is the ice brown?"

"That's not ice," he promised me with a chuckle. "That's tapioca pearls." He pulled an oversized straw out from where it was wedged into the drink carrier with various eating utensils and napkins. "I got you brown sugar milk tea because it tends to be popular, but you don't have to drink it if you hate it. And don't choke on the tapioca. You're meant to chew it while you drink. Just poke the straw through the cup's cover and try it."

I looked suspiciously at the pointed straw but did as my brother suggested. The tea was sweet and creamy, but the tapioca was a little odd and took some getting used to. After the third sip, I nodded. "It's weird," I said. "But I think I like it."

"People say that about Gabe all the time," Stefan said, earning him a laugh from Stan, which in turn earned Stan an elbow in the side.

"If you're done being assholes to me, I suggest eating," Gabe said, not looking anywhere near as grumpy about the attention as his words would suggest. "Grandma texted me to say they've almost finished eating, and they're heading over here in a few minutes. We probably have ten minutes of peace before they show up and start nagging."

It turned out to be closer to twenty, and it was just enough time for us to hoover down the food. I was still vaguely horrified at the amount I put away every meal, but everyone seemed to think it was expected, so I tried not to let it bother me too much. When in Rome, and all that. Plus, it really had been delicious food, so I was more sad that it was gone so quickly than anything.

I was half-asleep on the brink of a food coma when a hand landed on my shoulder, and a familiar voice said, "Well, are you ready?"

I opened my eyes—really, I'd just been resting them, definitely not dozing off—to look at my grandmother. "Are you even allowed to go with us? Aren't you dead?"

"Well, yeah," she agreed with a grin. "So I'm not going with you so much as walking to the summoning circle with everyone while your grandfather whisks you off to see your new home."

"Abby's already handed over her phone and the USB drive to Rose," Beelzebub added. "Do you have yours on you? She'll meet us there."

I patted my backpack. "Got it," I told him.

He nodded. "Good. Then let's go."

He had to wait until we'd picked up Abby's takeout, which had him grumbling, but I was well-acquainted with his bluster by that point and ignored him. Once I had everything, we headed out of the food court and to the other side of the basement.

I was a little underwhelmed by what I found. "A gym?" I asked Stan. "The summoning circle is in the company gym?"

"It saved space," Stan said with a sigh as Gabe cackled. If I had to guess, they'd probably had this conversation.

"Sure, and I'm all for economizing," I said, "but this seems wrong somehow."

"For now, set the poor planning decisions aside and get going," my grandfather said. "Abby should be summoning us any moment."

"Wait," I said. "You taught my sister how to summon demons?"

"Oh look, the circle's open," Beelzebub commented while ignoring my question.

Indeed, the intricate circle on the wall had started to glow. Before I could protest, my grandfather put a hand on my back and shoved me through.

I faceplanted, because of course I did. On the plus side, I ended up face-first in some soft grass and kept from squashing Abby's food or upending her drink.

"Geez, Grandpa, you could have been a little more gentle with him," I heard Abby tell Beelzebub with no small amount of irritation.

I felt a hand touch me, and I lifted the bag and cup as best I could. "Take these first," I said, though I had no idea how understandable my words were since my face was still touching grass. It must have been good enough because the bag and cup were taken from my tenuous grip. Then, hands far too big to belong to my sister grabbed my shoulders and hoisted me up.

"Thanks," I said to my grandfather, giving him stink-eye. "Except I wouldn't have to thank you for picking me up if you hadn't shoved me through in the first place."

"I figured you'd hesitate if I didn't," he said with a shrug.

He was probably right, but he was still kind of a jerk for doing it. I scowled at him again before looking around me. I was in an older neighborhood, and the yard I'd taken a swan dive onto was large for Southern California. There were trees near the front of the property, and I took in the blue sky and fluffy white clouds with a sigh of relief. I assumed I'd get used to Hell's black void sky at some point, but it was not yet said point in time. The sun felt marvelous.

I looked over at Abby and grinned. "Hi."

She grinned back as she lifted what I'd brought for her. "Thanks for the snacks," she said.

"It was Gabe's idea," I admitted as I stood and dusted myself off. "I'm just the courier."

"Well, I still appreciate it," Abby said. "Come on, Rose is waiting for you inside."

She grabbed my hand and yanked me toward the house. I hadn't looked at it when I'd stood, as I'd still been distracted by the beautiful blue sky, but I was pleased to see it was an old Victorian, obviously needing a little love. "Did you get a Victorian because of the dream house?" I asked my grandfather with a laugh. If so, that was kind of cute.

"This house came on a recommendation," my grandfather said. Then he nodded toward the house. "Go on."

Abby led me toward the front door and threw it open before stepping back so I could see inside. I looked in and stared in shock.

Inside was a timeworn living room, with walls that needed repainting and a floor that probably needed refinishing. There was a fireplace, and a macrame owl and a picture of my brother were hanging above the mantle. A novel, a plush dog, and a familiar-looking journal sat on the mantle as if they'd been waiting for me.

I turned my head to look at Abby and our grandfather, my eyes so wide they probably looked like they'd bug right out of my head. The two of them grinned and nodded.

"Holy shit," I whispered. It was the only phrase that could possibly sum up my feelings about the situation.