Page 76 of Not Today, Satan
“About twenty minutes on foot. We’ll be there soon.”
He still won’t look at me, and I bite my lip. I’ve walked with him for a year; I can make it through twenty more minutes. Even if it’s with a Nate I no longer recognize.
I wrap my arms around myself again and stare ahead. Nate may be beside me, but I’m as alone as I was back in Dominus. Maybe I should’ve stayed there. Sure, it was lonely, but it’s lonely here, too. I’m not sure what I’ll do if my mother rejects me as well.
We get a few second glances from passersby, but not as many as Nate predicted. I’m hardly the strangest thing on these sidewalks.
In two blocks, we pass some sort of demon clown with a red balloon, a fuzzy red character with an orange nose, and some guy with a mouse hood perched on his shoulder who blows acrid smoke from a white stick that makes me cough when it clouds around me.
“And what are you supposed to be?” A man stops in front of me. He’s maybe a few years older than Nate, and his eyes are a dark brown that resemble the mud from Lot Eight.
“What are you talking about?” I glower at him, tightening my arms over my chest. “I’m a regular human, like you.”
He eyes me from toes to hairline, then a grin spreads across his face. “Oh my God, you’re Ella! What a great costume. It’s so authentic.”
“I don’t know any Ellas.” I glance at Nate for help, but he’s a block ahead and still moving.
“FromDevil’s Heir!” The stranger circles me, the intensity of his gaze shrinking me into my own skin. “You did a pretty good job. Forgot the horns, though.”
I glare at him and pop my hip out. “This is not a costume. And the last thing I need or want are horns. Go away.”
“Ihaveto get a pic with you for my fan page. How much?” He slings an arm around my shoulder and holds up one of those rectangle devices everyone here seems to carry. Our images appear on the screen—him beaming, and me scowling as I try to wrench out of his grasp.
“Get off of me,” I growl.
“Come on, honey.” He holds the box higher and tightens his grip, his fingers digging into my shoulder. “Smile for me. I’ll even pay extra, since I’m guessing it’s the end of the day and that’s why you’re being such a bitch.”
“I willnotsmile for you.” I push his hand out of my face and shove him. Heat pulses through my body, smoke billowing from my fingertips. He’s lucky I’m not back at full power yet, or his photo device would be a melted pile of goo. “Buzz off. I’m warning you.”
He doesn’t take the hint. Instead, he trails a hand over my feathers. “How did you make these so realistic?” Pain shoots through my back as he plucks a feather from my wing.
What the home is wrong with this one?
Like Ferus, he needs a lesson in no meaning no.
I draw my hand back, clench my fist, and release it into his face. He staggers and falls to the ground, clutching his nose as it oozes blood. I lift my foot to kick him in the same place I’d struck Ferus.
“Devica!” Nate grabs me by the shoulders and drags me back. A crowd of people forms around us, and he steers me through them as the man screams garbled obscenities at me through the hands cradling his bloody nose.
I allow Nate to direct me around the corner, my face hot and my arms shaking. He stopped me from finishing the asshole off, but at least he remembered I exist. I’m not sure if I should be grateful or angry—or both.
When we’ve put enough distance between us and the gawkers, he stops and roughly shakes my shoulders. “What the hell, Devica? You can’t just punch people in the face.”
His fingers dig into my skin, and I wince. Nate drops his hands and mutters an apology under his breath.
“He grabbed me without asking,” I say. “Told me to smile, then plucked my feather.”
“So?” Nate throws up his arms. “You can’t hit someone when they piss you off. That’s not how things work here.”
I straighten my torched dress, my body tense beneath the fabric. “You and your Earth rules. I understand not taking that lady’s glasses, but I can’t stand up for myself when a guy touches me without permission? We have harsher punishments for people like him in Hell.”
Nate chews on his lip, then releases a sigh. “You know what? You’re right. When it comes to assholes like that, do what you need to do. I’m sorry I yelled at you. I panicked.”
“Thank you.” I give him a small smile. “And I accept your apology.”
“Let’s go.”
I rub my sore knuckles as we continue down the street, the crowds thinning as the buildings give way to more greenery. My heart thrums when I spot the same type of trees as in the photos of my mother.
