Chapter 6

6

I t was only a week until I saw my brother again, and while that week had been a lot of the 'same old same old,' there were some changes. Some of those changes were in the house, making me nervous. For instance, my parents had started feeding Abigail and me properly, and as sad as that was to indicate that something was wrong, it made me wonder what had happened. They seemed nervous, which in turn made me anxious because it only made me wonder if they'd realized someone had been in their study. It was more likely that someone in their little pack of perverts was blackmailing them, but my upbringing had made me a little paranoid when it came to my own safety.

However, some of the changes were internal, and I was sure I was better off for them. When we'd all gone to Sunday services to listen to my father shout about fire and brimstone, I spent the entire time highly amused that I knew better than he did when it came to Hell and that if I ended up there, it wouldn't be to burn because I liked other boys. It gave me confidence, even if I couldn't tell anyone about it.

Other than that, my week proceeded as usual, and when Thursday rolled around, I fell asleep only to find a short message in the journal I shared.

You're about to have welcome guests.

A little smiley face was drawn at the end of the message, and I felt I knew who at least one of the guests was. Maybe the other was my grandfather again. Maybe he'd be less gruff this time.

I snorted. Yeah, maybe not. Beelzebub seemed the perpetually grumpy type.

Either way, I wouldn't be working on the conservatory that night, not if Gabe were arriving at some point. Instead, I made myself comfortable. As I was snuggled into the couch, continuing the novel I'd been left, a knock at the front door nearly startled me onto the floor. I'd expected him to come in from the empty bedroom again, not the front door, and honestly, I hadn't expected him to knock.

"It's just me," a familiar voice called from outside. "Can we come in?"

I grinned to myself as my heart leaped. Suddenly, my night had brightened significantly. "It's open," I called back to Gabe.

The door swung open, and I tried to peek out but could only see darkness outside as my brother and a stranger entered. Gabe's companion was quite tall and had to duck so his long horns didn't hit the door's jamb. His skin appeared absolutely colorless, and his horns, talons, and hair were black like Gabe's. He was also incredibly good-looking, and I could feel my face flush.

"Yeah, I know," Gabe told me consolingly as he patted my shoulder. "I'd like to say you get used to it in time, but that would be a lie."

"What are you talking about?" the stranger asked, confused.

"Nothing, dear," Gabe said immediately, giving me a wink. "Zeke, this is Stan, the artist formerly known as Satan. Despite what that weird book says about him, he's a pretty okay guy who routinely has cookies sent to the office for me and agrees that root beer floats are superior to lemonade in terms of summertime beverages."

"Well, you certainly can't go wrong with that," I acknowledged, nervously offering Stan a hand. "Despite what I was raised to believe, it's nice to meet you. Thanks for taking care of my brother."

"We take care of each other," Stan said with a smile as he shook my hand. It was a genuine expression with no hidden malice and only served to raise his attractiveness.

"So you learned to use the front door?" I asked Gabe, giving him a grin. It was probably a little wobbly since I wasn't sure how he'd take the teasing, but I was relieved when he laughed in response.

"Well, it's easier now that I know where to find you," he explained. "I can connect Limbo directly to the front door instead of some random door in the house. Also, I'm not as big an asshole as our grandfather and prefer not to just jump into someone's dream space like that." He looked around the room. "I wasn't paying attention last time I was here, but this place isn't nearly as run down as I thought it was, is it?"

"No, it's not," I said. "And don't ask me why it's like this. I didn't create it. It just is. There are even some things in here I can't change, which shouldn't happen in my own dream."

Gabe frowned in thought and looked around. "Wait, how do you have a picture of me? You didn't even know what I looked like, did you? Was that here last time?"

I nodded and got up from the couch to cross to the mantle. "It was," I said. "And it's one of the things I can't change." I started explaining the journal and the things showing up to him, then picked up the old book and flipped through the pages. He joined me and looked over my shoulder. When I reached that evening's entry, I burst into laughter and held it out for my brother to see what had been added to the previous message.

This isn't for your eyes, Gabe. Curiosity killed the cat, you know. Don't worry, I'm watching over him, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't try to help.

Gabe snorted and looked up at Stan, who'd walked over to peer over my other shoulder. "Who does that sound like to you?"

Stan let out an amused huff. "Nosy old man. He can't keep out of anyone's business, can he?" I turned my head to look at him, and he smiled. "If it's who we think it is, you don't need to worry. He's definitely your ally."

"Can you at least give me a hint who it is?" I was dying to know who was on the other end of this journal, especially if they were supposedly a friend.

"If he hasn't told you, we're not going to ruin it for him," Gabe said. "He'd sulk for a month." He put a hand on my head and ruffled my hair. "Seriously, it's safe. Is he the one who gave you the picture?"

"Along the novel and the stuffed dog, yeah," I admitted.

"Well, I brought something for you, too. It's nothing big, I just figured it might brighten the place up a little. Since I think it's a pretty good bet this place will be your dream self's home base for the foreseeable future, even better." He held out a hand, and a rolled-up item that looked like it was made of narrow rope or thick twine appeared.

"Oh no," Stan groaned. "You didn't make him an Ethel, did you?"

Gabe glared at him. "Do not start. Ethel is good luck." He unrolled the bundle, and I was face-to-face with a weirdly crafted owl made of knots and wooden beads. It held a stick or something in its claws as a perch.

"I can't believe you're giving your little brother a macrame owl," Stan said with a tired sigh. There was clearly a history there.

"I like it," I said, and I meant it. It was oddly cute, and even more adorable was that my demonic brother somehow managed to make it despite the talons on his fingers. I narrowed my eyes and stared above the fireplace until a hook appeared on the wall. "Can you hang it up for me?"

"Oh my god," Stan said quietly.

I turned and raised an eyebrow at him. "What do you have against owls?"

"It's not owls in general. It's macrame owls. They're creepy as hell, and Gabe named the one he's got hanging in his apartment Ethel. It's perched on part of a skull. And whenever I kiss him in his living room, he yells, 'Don't look, Ethel!' Ray Stevens should sue him. And he was popular long before Gabe's time so I'm not even sure why your brother references him."

Gabe rolled his eyes. "It's perched on a shed jackalope antler," he informed me. "One jumped out in front of my golf cart, and I nearly hit it. It dropped its antlers in fear and sprayed the cart before bolting. Melted the front of my cart, and I had to get it fixed. Also, Grandma loves Ray Stevens, who is still alive and can't sue me for what he doesn't know."

"Melted?" I asked, ignoring whatever that was about some guy I'd never heard of before. I could ask about it later. The whole 'melted' thing seemed more important anyway, and shock was probably written all over my face.

"Jackalopes pee acid. So whatever you do, stay out of a jackalope's splash zone. Anyway, after it ran off and I had to wait for someone to pick me up, I decided to keep the antlers. So while technically it did come from a creature's head, Ethel is not perched on part of a skull."

"That thing stares at me no matter where I am in the room, and I swear to god it's going to suck out my soul," Stan said.

"Honey, you're Satan. Do you even have a soul?"

Stan turned to Gabe, eyes wide, and pointed a finger at him. "Rude. You are rude . You can sleep on the couch tonight."

"I was kidding," Gabe said, trying not to laugh. "Also, you're already asleep, and we're in the same bed." He looked at me and shrugged. "I have to be awake to do this, weirdly enough. I've been told that'll change with practice. I've been training for the past week so that I could bring Stan with me this time."

Stan took a deep breath, held it, then let it out slowly. "You're lucky you're cute."

"I know," Gabe said. Having accomplished getting the owl hung up, he turned to kiss Stan on the cheek. "I know you have a soul. And two hearts."

Stan's brow wrinkled. "Two?"

"Well, you do own mine," Gabe said with a fond smile.

Stan's face began to turn red, and I cleared my throat in case they'd forgotten I was in the room.

"Right, sorry," Gabe said, returning his attention to me. "I wanted to talk to you about your parents. What do you want to do about them?"

"Get them thrown into jail," I said immediately. I told him what I'd found in the study and who I'd seen in the pictures. "So I'm not sure who I can tell," I concluded as Gabe tried to force the rage over what I'd told him out of his expression. "I need to get proof of what I saw if I even can. And then I need to figure out what to do."

"There's a national hotline," Gabe told me. "For exploited children. You could call them."

"They probably work with local law enforcement," I countered. "And then things would get very, very bad for me, considering who all was in those pictures."

Gabe made a face, likely realizing just how correct I was. "I'll find someone we can trust," he promised.

"We should get him a phone," Stan told Gabe, making him my new favorite person. Demon. Whatever. "That way, if he finds those pictures again, he can get a video and point out all the people he knows in them." He narrowed his eyes in thought, tapping a talon against his chin. "We could probably have Gabriel get one to him, but do you have any place to hide one?"

The last was directed to me, and I nodded. I told them about the carnival, how I'd met Madame Persephone, and everything that had happened that day. "I can just put it in my backpack. No one will see it."

My brother barked a laugh. "I should have known she'd have her fingers in this," he said. "You can trust her; she's a friend. But you really went to my old building?"

I nodded, then grimaced. "The pavement was still discolored."

Gabe made a face much like the one I was probably making. "Well, at least I didn't have to feel that. Far better than having my heart getting ripped out while I was awake." He immediately changed the subject, probably having crossed into the territory of things he'd rather forget. "If Gabriel delivers the phone, he'll be an incredibly buff androgynous person with dark skin and golden hair. Trust me, you'll know he's an angel. He glows. There's glitter involved. But I'm guessing it's more likely he'll have one of his assistants pop into your room while you're asleep and tuck the phone into your backpack for you."

"Will I be able to call you?" I asked hopefully. "Or message?"

Gabe sighed. "Calls won't go through. It's an entirely different sort of network. A messaging app of some sort might theoretically work, but time works differently in Hell, and I might not see your message for months. Or I might see it yesterday. We can try, but don't count on it." He looked at Stan. "Or would messages be against the rules?"

"If he were fully human, yes," Stan admitted. "But he's part demon, so that might change things. I'll ask."

"Thanks," I said, grateful there would at least be a chance.

"Let's sit and chat," Stan suggested with a smile as he gestured toward the couch. "Gabe hasn't stopped talking about you since he met you, so I'd love to get to know my brother-in-law."

My heart gave another little leap. "Really? He hasn't?"

Gabe let out a snort as he dropped onto the couch. "Of course I haven't. I always wished I had a younger sibling, and now I've got an amazing little brother. Obviously I'm going to brag about you to everyone I know."

He said it so matter-of-factually that I could only stare at him in shock. "But... I'm not..."

Gabe frowned. "Not what? Amazing?"

I nodded.

He snorted and gestured around the room. "What do you call this? Even if the nosy old man created the house, you're in control of the rest of it. You've been controlling dreams your whole life, and I'm lucky if I don't accidentally walk in on our grandmother dreaming about a menage a trois with our grandfather and a young Goldie Hawn." He shuddered. "Not only that, but you barely blinked when you found out you had a giant horned Smurf for a brother."

Stan burst into laughter. I frowned. "What's a Smurf?"

"Cartoon character," Stan said, still giggling. "Tiny. Very blue. We run the little 'la la la' song they sing on loop in some places in Hell."

That startled me out of my shock, and I started laughing too. "Okay, yeah, I can see the resemblance. The blue thing, not the singing."

Gabe thought about that for a moment. "No, actually, they could probably use my singing in Hell, too. It's pretty bad. Are you two going to come sit down or what?"

Stan laughed again and steered me over to the couch, urging me to sit in the middle. Gabe pulled a phone out of his pocket and looked at me. "Mind if I take a picture?"

I frowned. "Will that work here?"

"It should. I'm physically here, awake," he answered as he tapped at the screen. "This is my actual phone, not a dream version. If it doesn't then it doesn't. But if it does and we can get you a phone, I'll send you a copy."

My eyes went wide. "Really? Yes, please!"

Gabe grinned. Then he looked at Stan. "Should we...?" He waved a hand, gesturing at himself. "In case someone else happens to see the picture?"

Stan frowned. "I suppose he could always say you're an uncle or something if someone remarks on how much you look like a guy who's supposed to be dead."

"Hmmm." Gabe leaned back, resting his head to stare at the ceiling. "Second cousin. I can be our grandfather's sister's grandson." He turned his head to look at me. "Or, easier to remember, your great-aunt's grandson. Think you can remember that? Just in case?"

I frowned. "If anyone I know sees the phone, I'd be more worried about what my parents would do to me than explaining who's in the picture."

I regretted my words when worry crept back onto my brother's face. "Maybe I should bring you a copy to put on the mantle here instead, just in case. Are you sure you want to stay there?"

"Can you get my parents caught?" I asked, matter-of-factually.

Stan sighed and shook his head. "As much as we want to, I've been told we can't meddle in that. I did ask, though."

I nodded. I had assumed as much, or it would already be a done deal. "Then I'm staying. I can't, in good conscience, let them keep doing what they're doing." I smiled a little at Gabe. "Take the picture, oh newly-minted second cousin of mine."

One moment, I was sitting in between two demons; the next, I was sitting next to the guy I'd apparently been cloned from and his stupidly hot boyfriend. Gabe had obviously been practicing since he couldn't change his form without help the last time I saw him, but that wasn't the important thing right then. I narrowed my eyes at Stan. "That's not fair. How are you still that attractive even after you change your form?"

Stan snorted. "I'm not that good-looking, but thank you for the compliment."

I looked at Gabe, perplexed. "I know," he told me with a sigh. "Come on, everyone scootch in."

We leaned in as he held up his phone, and the result was a photo that turned out to be pretty darn adorable. I hoped I'd be able to get a copy. "Okay, yeah, I'm printing a copy of this and putting it on my desk at work," Gabe said with an evil grin. "Then every time someone brings me a report, I can demand that they tell me how cute my brother is before I sign off on what they give me."

"You wouldn't," I said, torn between amusement and horror.

"Oh, he will," Stan confirmed. "It'll be great. The way he tortures the executives who think they own the place is a thing of beauty."

"I hate to admit it, but Hell's a better fit for me than Heaven would have ever been," my brother said. "I'm just too much of an asshole to make nice with the angels. Well, except Gabriel. Him, I like."

"What's it like?" I asked eagerly. Gabe had told me a little when I saw him last, but I wanted details. "Heaven, I mean. Okay, and Hell. What are they actually like?"

Stan laughed, laugh lines wrinkling at the corner of his eyes, and he gave me a knowing smile. "If you think your Bible is right, you'll probably be disappointed," he warned me.

I nodded. "Yeah, I kind of got that impression, but I can't help being curious. I've been told what to believe all my life without proof. I want to know what things are really like."

"There's a Mark Twain quote that goes something along the lines of going to Heaven for the climate and Hell for the company," Gabe said. "That's probably the most accurate quote there is. Heaven is gorgeous. Thanks to certain guidelines that should have been updated much sooner, it's also a home for entitled Karens, with Adam and Eve being the worst of them."

I narrowed my eyes at him, trying to figure out if he was kidding, but Stan nodded in agreement. "He's telling the truth," Stan confirmed. "Thankfully, the people who were grandfathered in tend to stick to themselves in their exclusive little piece of the afterlife. We don't have to deal with them much."

"Hell has its own beauty if you know where to look," Gabe continued. "Like the landscaping in the places where restitution isn't currently going on is beautiful, despite the lack of sun there. There's light, and day is as bright as day in the living world, but the sky is...."

"A swirling black void?" Stan suggested.

Gabe pointed a finger at him. "That," he agreed. "It's unnerving until you get used to it. There are also things like the lava fields that glow and light up the night. Those show up by HQ occasionally, and we can see them from the office windows. Honestly, there are a lot of beautiful landscapes like that in Hell; you're just better off looking at them from a distance so the man-eating beasts don't get you.

I gave them a horrified look, and Stan grimaced. "I may have made him nervous about the oceans there," he admitted. "However, I think we need to get back on topic. I don't know how long those of us who are actually sleeping will remain that way, and we need to figure out what we're doing in regards to the horrific child abusers."

"Yeah," Gabe said slowly. "I kind of have an idea of who Zeke can go to, but we might want Gabriel to double-check my idea." He bit his lip and looked at Stan. "I was thinking he could get in touch with Rose."

Stan sucked in a surprised breath, and I looked on in confusion. "Who's Rose?" I asked.

My brother sighed heavily. "She's a social worker now, but...well, I locked her in a closet when we were in grade school."