Page 1 of Beneath My Skin

CHAPTER 1

Go buy presents. Now.

I jumped when the words appeared, pressing against the inside of my skin and looking a little like varicose veins until they exploded through to the surface. All accompanied by a sweet burn and hiss like a hot iron on flesh.

I was used to the agony. It hardly bothered me anymore.

My toothbrush clattered into the sink and I scratched my forearm once the burning stopped. “You don’t have to curse me whenever I forget to do something! I get it. I’m going shopping. Just make it stop.”

Please make the pain go away. It was a silent plea. She never listened.

The words disappeared with the hint of a chuckle in the air, the sound like a ghost’s whisper over a grave. Great. I’d feel the effects of this distinct pleasure for hours. What goes well with Christmas shopping? Demon curses? Scar tissue? I could take my pick.

The toothbrush lay forgotten while I scratched.

She could have used a better method for communication, my guardian demon. Instead, she chose one of the most painful ways possible if only to torture me. Except I wasn’t sure if she really did it to torture me. I’d asked before, but she didn’t care to answer.

My name is Mariella Revely and I wish I had a guardian angel. No matter how much I beg or plead or pray, I never get an answer from on high.

It would be easier to make good decisions if I had one. An angel, that is. Instead, I must have fallen through the cracks when they were being assigned. I was stuck with Cer, which rhymes with bear.

A comical name for a demon, right?

I’d never seen Cer. We’d never had an honest conversation. There were no clear answers. I had no clue what she looked like as I’d only heard her voice inside my head. I could be thankful it wasn’t like the movies. The whole demon possession thing, that is. There was no torture, trying to get me to give up my soul. No head spinning and pea soup puking. The power of Christ compels you!

Cer stayed by my side through good times and bad. More bad than good. At least the scars from her words only stayed for the day. Twenty-four hours later and I looked like a normal twenty-six-year-old woman living with a secret. I lived alone, and that was better for everyone involved. Cer may watch my ass, while alternately being a pain in it, but I didn’t need the rest of my community finding out about my anomalous situation.

Her messages wouldn’t stop until I’d done what she asked. Whatever it was. In this case, go buy presents. I pushed the curtains aside and stared out the tiny bathroom window at the December sky. It would be a rush job, getting to the store and back before the snow came. The thought made a wave of nausea rise.

I continued to scrape at my arm with stubby nails while searching through my closet for clothes. I’d have to pile on the layers unless I wanted everyone in the tri-state area to see the words on my skin. If I didn’t leave right away—jump up and do her bidding, I liked to say—she’d hound me until my body was littered with her words and I was half-mad from the agony.

And if I didn’t respond quickly enough? Not just a curse. There would be major ramifications, or so she liked to tell me. So far I had not tested the truth of that.

I spared a glance in the hallway mirror, tugging a fire-engine-red cap over my mop of dirty-blond hair. Then stared at myself for one second. Two. Thinking about my life and its lack of direction.

I was attractive enough in an average sort of way, falling short of hot while not academically-inclined enough to look scholarly sexy. Frowning a bit, I turned to give my reflection a better perusal and think how lucky I was my demon never decided to send any messages on my face. I tucked a lock of hair behind my ear and tried a smile. It came out dutiful, like I was at a birthday party I wanted desperately to leave and a photographer demanded I “say cheese!”

As in, the smile didn’t reach my eyes.

My face tapered down to a narrow chin, which would have been described as elfin if I did something to my face other than wash it. I had blue eyes and a heart-shaped face that made me look innocent. Too bad I was about as far from the adjective as one could get.

I stuck my tongue out at myself until a residual sting on my forearm reminded me to get my rear in the car.

The cold stung my cheeks and brought blood to the surface once I stepped outside. It was a bitter cold, the wet kind, known for sneaking beneath the skin until everything froze. Nothing wanted to work in those near-zero temperatures, and the car engine struggled to turn over.

“Come on, come on. I need to get going.”

I sat in the seat watching my breath form billowing clouds of condensation in front of my eyes. Hands rubbed together inside cotton and wool gloves while I tried to regain a bit of the warmth I’d lost. I didn’t even know what I needed to get in terms of presents. Not that I had an extensive list of people to buy for. There were only two names: my aunt and her son.

“I guess I’d better get out there before you decide to take more drastic measures, eh?” I waited for a reply from Cer and then shrugged.

Sometimes I forgot she wasn’t inclined to reply when I asked a question. Our conversations were drastically one-sided. She wasn’t a person. Hell, she wasn’t even alive.

I’d never seen her face to face, although I’m sure she would be terrifying in reality.

She’d turned up one night twenty years ago when my mother packed me into a car in a snowstorm and told me we were going far, far away. Starting a new life. Starting over somewhere different, somewhere better.

She’d turned up when the snow fell thick on the ground and visibility was down to nothing and the tires lost traction and skidded.

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