Page 12 of Not Today, Satan
I clear my throat again before placing my fingers back on the side of his face to steady him, then take another breath and press into his mind. The jolt through my body is as strong as lightning. I’d fall backward if I wasn’t gripping his skull so tightly. The room around me spins away, and everything turns white.
I’m connected to his soul instantly. It’s tethered to me like a rope, pulling me farther into his subconscious. I follow the cord, tugging myself forward, trying to make out anything in the shadows. But there’s nothing there.
Instead of the answers Mr. Bellum promised, all I find is an empty space before I’m flung from his mind.
I’m back in my room, surrounded by the familiar blue walls and gold-trimmed furniture.
Well,that’snever happened before.
Nathan Reynolds stares at me, concern clouding his features. “Anything?”
“I’m not sure.” I speak slowly, my body trembling with energy. “I went into your mind as far as I could, and it was empty.”
“That’s insulting,” he says. “I may not be the most cream-filled Oreo in the pack, but there has to be something in my head.”
“That’s not what I meant.” I side-eye him. “I was looking at your soul, not your brain. Although I’m not convinced the latter isn’t broken, too. Anyone with sense wouldn’t break out of their lot in Hell.”
He chuckles, then winces and grabs his ribs. “What does it mean? The empty soul thing.”
Pacing my room, I nibble at the polish on the tip of my thumb. “I have no clue. My teacher told me if I see nothing, that person hasn’t committed a sin big enough for them to be sent here. But I’m new at this. I may not be at full power yet.”
He sinks against the door. “Even if you’re learning, the fact you can’t see anything proves I’m innocent, right?”
I stop pacing and stare at him in the reflection of my bedroom mirror. How he can still be so good-looking under all that blood and bruising confuses me as much as his blank-slate soul. “It’s not that simple.”
“Why not? You said it yourself, you should be able to seesomething. Nothing means I didn’t do it.”
“Look.” I cross my room and stand in front of him, focusing over his shoulder on the woodgrain pattern of my door. “Even if I had doubts about you being here, I don’t get a say. My father makes the final judgment. I can’t overrule him.”
“Can’t you tell him what you saw?” He spreads his arms. “Or what you didn’t see, in this case?”
I let out a low laugh. “Sure. I’ll walk up to Father and say, ‘Hey, Dad, I know you’ve been running this place for millennia, but I think you might be wrong about this human who broke into my room tonight.’ He’ll love that.”
“Wait.” His face pales beneath the grime. “Your fatherrunsthis place? That means he’s… Which makes you…”
I meet his gaze. The trust that was once there has been replaced by fear, and my heart plummets to my feet.
I shouldn’t care what this human thinks of me. He’s a sinner—destined to spend eternity rotting with the others.
Except that, for one moment, he wasn’t afraid of me, and he didn’t run away like everyone else in my life. All it took was learning who I really am to make him react the same way as the rest of them.
I open my mouth to reply.
That’s when someone bangs on my door.
VI.
We freeze, our eyes glued to the door.
“Your Highness!” Attero’s voice is muffled through the wood. “Can you open the door? We’re tracking an escaped shadeling, and we think he came this way.”
I exhale slowly. It’s only Atty.
Nathan grabs my hand, eyes pleading. “Please, Devica. Don’t let them take me back there.”
I hesitate. Attero is my out. He won’t ask questions. I can hand Nathan Reynolds over and say he threatened me, and Father will make sure I never see him again.
But I analyze my time in his head, the minutes I’ve stared at his photograph. How connected I felt to him when we touched. And how his hand grips mine, no longer concerned about my paternity.
