Chapter 18

18

I rudely ignored Rose's hello from the living room as I stepped into the house, looked around the living room, and darted down a familiar hallway. I threw open the door past the kitchen and was greeted by a wide expanse and a lot of dirty windows. The dry fountain in the middle of the space looked freshly scrubbed, and the floor's mosaic tile was nearly all clean. Cleaning equipment was leaning against the fountain, where I'd left them in my sleep.

I felt a hand on my shoulder and whipped around to see my grandfather, whose expression was somewhere between happiness at having surprised me and concern at my reaction. My eyes were probably still nearly bugged out of my skull. "How is this even possible?" I demanded.

Beelzebub sighed and handed me the journal. He'd obviously grabbed it from the mantle before following me. "Read it," he told me.

I grabbed it from his hands and immediately flipped open the cover.

Don't panic. Everything will be explained. I promise you're not losing your mind.

"Are you going to explain things to me?" I asked my grandfather.

He shook his head and pointed to the journal. "Not me. He will, and soon. It's one of the things you're here to discuss today."

I sighed in irritation and felt like stomping my feet like a toddler throwing a tantrum. "Great, so who is he ?"

"He's the guy who told me where to find this place," my grandfather said calmly.

"Zeke?"

I turned to look at Abby, who was peeking into the conservatory. She grinned at me before taking a sip of her boba milk tea. "Want to show us the rest of your house?"

" My house?"

"You're the one who was dreaming it," my grandfather pointed out. "All I did was facilitate the purchase. Besides, I already have a house. I bought this place for you and your sister."

"Besides, you really think I'm going to claim a place that was meant for you?" Abby added with a roll of her eyes. "Someday, I'll have my own place, thank you very much. But in the meantime, I'll be borrowing yours."

"You're welcome," I said with a snort.

Her grin deepened before she took another sip of tea, chewing on the tapioca pearls. "Gabe was right," she said after a moment.

"About what?"

She pointed at her cup. "This is amazing. Are you going to join us now that you're done freaking out? I want to eat the food Gabe sent before all the whipped cream melts. Panic after that if you feel it's necessary."

"You..." I started, then thought better of it. I shook my head. "Never mind. Come on, let's go feed you."

I wandered back to the living room, trailing behind Abby and flanked by our grandfather. Rose was seated on a sectional that was not the couch I'd placed in the house in my dreams. "I brought it up from my office," Beelzebub explained when I gestured toward it.

"My couch?" I asked.

"It wasn't here. Neither was that blanket Gabe mentioned you like to huddle under. It probably has to do with you creating them in your dreams and them not being physically here. Your brother brought that damn owl over, right?"

"Yeah, and..." I held up the journal. "The other things showed up after conversations with my secret pen pal."

My grandfather nodded as if it all made sense. I wished it made sense to me, and it was frankly pretty maddening that I was being kept in the dark. I stayed silent on the topic, though, and sat next to Rose. I pulled the phone I'd gotten in the living world out of my pocket and handed it to her. "Here you go," I said. "I'm pleased to say that I left it recording after we made our escape, and while I doubt any of the video is usable, considering I was holding the phone in my hand as I was running for my life, there's plenty of audio of my parents chasing after me, threatening to kill me, and otherwise screeching at me. It cuts off just before I called Gabe to get me." I had my suspicions about the video stopping right then not being a coincidence, but I kept that thought to myself.

"Thank you," Rose said, taking the phone. "I've already gotten your sister's phone and the drive to the appropriate people. I imagine your parents will have a visit from the FBI in the near future."

"Do we have to go back to them?" Abby asked as she dropped onto the couch next to me and opened the container I'd brought from the food court. The crepe inside looked almost as tooth-rotting as Stefan's had. Come to think of it, he'd offered me a bite, and I'd never gotten one. Well, it was probably for the best. I wasn't a fan of dentists. "I mean, I know you were looking into emergency custody and all that."

"You'll be staying here," Rose promised. "A judge I'm familiar with has signed off on it. It's temporary but should be long enough to do what we need." She eyed me. "You turn eighteen in..."

"Two weeks," I said. "Graduation is in four weeks."

"Any college plans?"

I shook my head. "Nothing concrete. I wasn't allowed to apply to universities because my parents refuse to pay for it, and I don't want to have student loans for the rest of my life. I'll go to a local community college for two years and transfer into a university after I figure out things like scholarships and grants."

She nodded. "That's a solid, sensible plan. Anyway, in two weeks no one can tell you to go back to your parents, even if you're still technically attending high school, so don't let it get to you. You'll be fine."

"Sure," I said, "but what about Abby? She only just turned seventeen last month. Can they force her to go back?"

"It'll be taken care of," Beelzebub assured me from the other end of the sectional. "I'll get permanent custody."

I gave him a suspicious look. "And you're so confident about that why?"

"Because Hell is full of lawyers, and I'm not afraid of getting my hands dirty to keep my grandkids safe," my grandfather said with a smirk. "At least, as far as the sane, decent ones are concerned. The others can and will go to Hell, and not in the pleasant way you and Gabe did."

I made a face. He hadn't thought that out before letting it leave his mouth. "Gabe got there because he was turned into roadkill. How is that pleasant?"

"I meant because neither of you is paying restitution, smartass." The words were said fondly, and Beelzebub reached around Abby to ruffle my hair. "The other two living in that house with your parents are lost causes. Your siblings that have moved out..." He paused and considered. "I don't have high hopes, but I wouldn't mind being proven wrong. Speaking of high hopes, though... Kid, seriously, you don't need to worry about paying for school. Your grandmother and I will put you and Abby through college."

I narrowed my eyes at him, crossing my arms over my chest. "Then why didn't you do the same for Gabe?"

My grandfather looked at me, perplexed, before speaking. "Why would you assume we didn't pay for him?"

"He lived in a miserable apartment in a horrible part of town," I said immediately. "He had a dead cockroach for a roommate and a job at the university that probably paid him far less than he was worth."

A metaphorical lightbulb went off over my grandfather's head, and he burst into laughter. "No, you misunderstand," he said between chuckles. "He sold the house he lived in with his grandmother because he couldn't stand to live there when she was gone. He moved into that shitty apartment because it was cheap and helped stretch out what he inherited from Gin so it would pay his way up to obtaining his PhD. Same with the job, it was just to stretch out funds. We paid for ninety percent of his living expenses from the time he was eighteen until the day he died."

"He...never mentioned that," I admitted after a moment of silence.

"I imagine it never came up, what with everything else going on. Rest assured, it's fine if you want to apply to universities for next year. Take a year off and do things you've never had a chance to do. We'd all be okay with that. If you want to go to the community college, though, I have nothing against that. Like Rose said, it's a solid plan."

I nodded. "I'll think about it," I promised. I'd probably talk to Gabe about it, too, since he was the one with multiple degrees and had a far better idea of how things regarding higher education worked than I did.

"Good," Beelzebub said before turning his attention to Abby. "I have a question for you."

She tilted her head, obviously curious. "What is it?"

"There is a very important meeting that you need to be a part of. Unfortunately, it can't be held here, in the living world. I know you don't want to see what the afterlife is like," he added quickly before Abby could do more than open her mouth to complain, "which is why we have a plan. Gabriel, being the obnoxious celestial entity that he is, can transport you directly to Stan's office. Stan will have the blinds shut so you can't see outside. His office is perfectly normal." He paused and made a face. "Well, mostly normal."

I was utterly unable to fight back my laughter at that.

"Anyway," Beelzebub said, ignoring me, "you won't see anything except Stan's office and some of the afterlife's inhabitants, and some of them you've already met." He gave Abby a little smile. "Besides, your grandmother wants to see you face-to-face. Without having to dream you."

Abby contemplated that a moment before asking the question I saw coming from a mile away. "Why is his office only mostly normal?"

"Because his sense of style is stuck somewhere around 1960," I said immediately.

Abby gave me a look of disbelief. "Why?"

I shrugged. "I mean, some people like that sort of thing. Gabe, for instance," I noted, gesturing at the macrame owl on the wall. "Grandfather isn't wrong. Stan's office is normal, aside from looking like it's stuck in the middle of the previous century. If the blinds are shut, you wouldn't even know you're in Hell."

"You promise?" Abby asked, directing the question at Beelzebub.

He grinned, and I noticed for the first time that, unlike Stefan, all his teeth were extremely pointy, and I couldn't completely contain the chill that crept down my spine. Sure, I knew my grandfather would never hurt me, but my instincts remained ignorant of that fact.

"No spoilers," he promised.

She stared at him, her expression still suspicious. "Fine," she said finally. "I guess I'm okay with that if it's really that important."

"It is," Beelzebub said. "Otherwise, I wouldn't ask it of you. I might be kind of a jerk, but that doesn't mean I won't respect your decisions as long as they aren't detrimental to you or others."

"It's hilarious how the best parts of our family are all residents of Hell," Abby told me.

I nodded. The irony of the whole situation had not been lost on me.

"Okay," our grandfather said, "now that we've gotten the serious matters out of the way, we need to go through the house room by room and figure out what needs to be fixed so we can have this place looking less like it was abandoned."

"Is that what it was?" I asked. "I mean, it's the only thing that makes sense, considering I've been dreaming about it for weeks and some of this stuff was actually here. And somehow I was cleaning the real conservatory, which makes absolutely no sense to me."

"It was a foreclosure," Beelzebub explained. "So, yes, it's been empty for a while now. Did you do much exploring in the house, or did you get distracted by the conservatory and not bother?"

I smirked at him. The question kind of hurt, though, because I'd nearly done that before remembering that I needed to know my surroundings. "Downstairs is one bedroom with an attached bathroom, a living room, dining room, kitchen, pantry, half-bath, and the conservatory. Upstairs are four bedrooms and a bathroom. And two staircases for some reason, but I'm betting the narrow set attached to the kitchen was meant for servants. My assumption is that the downstairs bedroom was also a servant's room. Or maybe it housed more than one servant. I don't know. Regardless, if no one minds, I think I'd like the downstairs room."

Abby nodded happily. "I'm good with that. I'd kind of had my heart set on the one upstairs at the front of the house."

We both looked at our grandfather. "Don't look at me," he told us. "I have a house, remember? But I suppose I have to set up a room as mine for show. We'll figure it out. Anyway, take whichever rooms you two want."

"I want to finish cleaning up the conservatory myself," I told him. "So whatever weird paranormal magic you plan on doing to get this place cleaned up..."

Beelzebub made a face. "'Weird paranormal magic' is not how I'd planned to get this house taken care of," he said. "Do you have any idea the amount of energy that would be involved? Also, that's not my wheelhouse. I do shit with dreams. No, I'll do the sane thing and hire contractors, thanks. This includes getting people to look at all the glass in the conservatory to make sure it's sound, but if possible, I'll keep them from cleaning it. Is that fair?"

I nodded. It was incredibly fair, considering it was probably a weird thing for me to be stubborn about. Maybe my grandfather got that it was the first space that I'd felt was truly mine, and I wanted to keep it that way. If he understood that, I was more than grateful for his consideration.

We ended up saying goodbye to Rose, who had to return to work, before walking through the entire house room by room with my grandfather wielding a notebook he kept scribbling in. "I don't expect any huge structural repairs," he confided in us. "Not considering who suggested this place to me. It should just be cosmetic stuff, so you might want to start thinking about paint colors and things like that. I've heard that's the fun part of all this home repair nonsense."

Abby got an eerily dreamy look at that, and I thought she whispered something about paint samples. I understood. This was the first time she was being allowed to make choices to suit herself instead of to suit our parents, too.

"Do your research online," our grandfather cautioned her. "Honestly, I don't feel good about you leaving the house right now. I don't trust either of your parents not to try something. I hate saying that about my own kid, but it is what it is."

That gave me pause. Our parents were deranged enough to do something like attempt a kidnapping. "What about school?" I asked. "I mean, at this point, all the exams are over, and I'd graduate whether I attended or not, so I don't see a point in going someplace I hate if I don't need to, but Abby..."

"Rose and I discussed that earlier," he said before looking at Abby. "How do you feel about homeschooling until we know your parents can't pull anything?"

"Can I go to public school after that?" my sister immediately asked, looking even more excited than she had about paint samples. "I know it's only for a year, but I'd always wished I could go to normal classes instead of having a so-called science class try to shove creationism down my throat when God could have just as easily been the one to invent evolution. I mean, if He created everything..."

"Pretty sure Stan created math," I interjected, only for my words to send Abby into a fit of giggles as she nodded fervently.

"We're getting off track," Beelzebub said. "Yes, Abby, you can go to public school once we're sure it's safe if that's what you want. In the meantime, I'll message Rose tonight and tell her you're good with homeschooling as a temporary measure." He turned his attention to me then, looking concerned. "As far as your graduation goes, though..."

"I don't want it," I said immediately. "I hated that place and had no friends besides Abby."

"And that's a recent thing," Abby said with a sigh. "Much to my deep regret."

"Yeah, mine too," I admitted. "But I don't care about the graduation ceremony. Have them mail me my diploma. We can have a party instead." I paused them, wincing. "Well, if we can. It's hard to remember that Gabe and Grandma are dead when I'm having conversations with them all the time. Is it even possible for them to come here since Abby doesn't want to go down there? Oh, but I suppose Stefan couldn't, given the whole not knowing if he'd turn to ash in sunlight thing."

"We could do it at night if he's comfortable with that idea," Beelzebub suggested. "The dead do occasionally make trips back to the living world, and I'm not talking about the way Gabe's last boyfriend did. I mean with permission. If we're limiting it to the house for a few hours, the powers that be should be okay with it. I'll talk to them.

"Who's Stefan?" Abby asked.

"A pain in my ass," our grandfather said immediately.

"He's Gabe's best friend," I told her after shooting Beelzebub a withering look. "I mean, after Stan. He's a vampire."

"Wait, vampires are real ?" Abby asked, once again sounding excited about something I hadn't expected her to be excited about. "That's so cool ."

"He's just a normal guy," I said with a shrug. "With sharp teeth. Gabe's hellhound can't stand him, but I think he's nice." I silently cursed my face for getting hot the moment the words left my mouth.

I tried to keep my expression neutral, but the sly look that crossed my sister's face told me I'd failed miserably. "Oh?" she asked. "Is he cute?"

I closed my eyes and let out a deep sigh.

"He is ," Abby said with a squeal, even though I hadn't confirmed anything. "You like him, don't you? Am I going to have a vampire for a brother-in-law?" Her eyes went wide. "If he bit me, would I turn into a vampire, too? That would be amazing. I want to be a vampire."

"Vampires are born, not created," Beelzebub sighed. "Sorry to burst your bubble. Also, you might want to stop teasing your brother before his face catches fire." He smirked at me, looking glad for an opportunity to join in the teasing. "We don't have an extinguisher in here yet."