Chapter 7

Chapter Seven:
By the time I reached the house I was soaked. I pictured myself walking in like a wet cat, with my make up on verge of smearing, my hair flat as a pancake, and my heavy clothes clinging to my chilled skin. It occurred to me that it would have been a good idea to bring an umbrella, but I enjoyed the rain too much, no matter the aftermath. I stepped inside, cringing when the rubber soles of my shoes squealed against the floor. Unsure of what to do at this point, I stood in the foyer and looked around. As far as I could tell, there was nobody home.
“Hello?” I called tentatively, but there was no answer. I stood there for another minute, but still no one appeared.
I didn't like this new development, and I felt too stubborn to give up now. I decided that I would wait for them to show up, and take advantage of the time to look around a little more.
I stepped under the bridge of the second floor, seeking the large mysterious room to explore. I was surprised when I noticed a hallway branching off to my right, one that had previously been obscured by the stairs. It wasn't easy to see in the dim light, but I did make out the form of a carousel horse resting against one wall of the hallway. It wasn't a cheap plastic one, but wooden, hand painted and decorated with bits of real glass that glittered in the darkness. It stared at me through beady black glass eyes, discomforting enough to draw me away. I continued forward and stepped down into a living room type area. I made out the back wall of the house now. The portion backing this particular room was dominated by a massive two story window invisible behind a heavy velvet drape. Most of the light in the room was the little that escaped around its edges. I tried to recall what was behind the house as far as I had been able to see from the street, but only came up with a large fenced off yard. Whatever was back there was hidden from view from the outside world, and there wasn't a back door within sight. I considered trying to peek behind the drapery, but there was an ornate couch that I would have to kneel on in order to reach it and I didn't dare get it wet.
There were two more chairs in the living area, ornate Victorian ones like the couch. They all had the same worn red velvet upholstery and carefully carved wooden frames. A rug underfoot carpeted the area, matching the furniture with an intricate design and surprisingly rich colors for its age. And opposite the couch in a corner all its own was a beautiful grand the likes of which I had never seen.
It was obviously an antique, covered in panels of ornate carved wood and stained to a rich dark brown. It looked like the sort of instrument that belonged in a king's palace, not an old, run down house like this. I couldn't resist at least listening to it. There was nothing better than a beautiful acoustic piano with a rich tone. I moved over to sit on the bench and gently lifted the lid from the keys, which, I observed, looked like real ivory. I tapped middle C a few times, then slowly and carefully went up and down a standard scale. Surprisingly, it sounded like it was in tune. The lid over the strings was propped up, so I watched in smitten awe as the hammers struck each respective string, emitting a clear, cool note. I let my fingers wander gently over each note on the keyboard, starting with the lowest and richest, and ending with the highest and the clearest. The sound was so beautiful, I didn't want to ever leave it alone. Next I started playing a slow, bitter song that I had written with Amelia in Seattle. It sounded so much better on this lord of instruments, I just couldn't resist adding the lyrics to the song. It was story about taking a walk in autumn, and two people in love as they shared a first kiss. However, as soon as I reached the chorus, I froze, my fingers hovering in mid air over the next notes. I felt an empty, gaping sadness as memories played in my head.
“Why have you stopped?” I wasn't surprised to hear the deep voice of the dark one. Where could he have been but here? Still, knowing that I wasn't alone brought the pain even closer to my heart.
“Because Amelia isn't here to sing the harmony.”
It took me a moment of sitting there with the pressing silence and my hands perched over the keys to realize that warm, salty tears had replaced the colder droplets of rain on my face. There wasn't much in Seattle that I missed, but Amelia was the worst of it all.
When I felt his warm arm wrap itself around my body from beside me on the bench, I realized how cold I was and pressed myself against his warmth. I didn't care that I hardly knew him, I buried my face into his chest and let the tears come. It was only a minute before the tears stopped and I managed to compose myself a little, but it still felt like far too long. There was a twinge of guilt in the back of my mind for putting someone through this who probably didn't care, but he had presented himself and I had accepted without question. When I finally pulled back, I tried to avoid eye contact.
“I'm sorry,” I said, trying to keep my voice under control. “I've had kind of a... sentimental day, and I guess the music just got to me.”
His free hand lifted up and his warm thumb smoothed itself over my cheek, wiping at the mixture of tears and black make up. He then patiently moved to the other cheek, repeating the procedure. “It is alright,” he finally replied. “I do not mind.”
I felt terribly embarrassed, but the tone of his voice sounded sincere. At last I ventured to look at his face, and I realized that I had never seen him so close before. I was near enough to take in the small details, like the pattern of his pores and the oil of his skin. Immediately I was drawn to his eyes; they were exotic in their shape, which was punctuated by the glittering, flecked gold of his irises. I was intrigued, and wanted to see more, but the scarf obscured the rest of his face.
“Is there something wrong?” he asked, and I noticed that I had furrowed my brow. Rather than reply, I simply pulled the scarf down from his face, and was pleased with what I saw. Despite his oddity, he was handsome.
For a moment he was surprised by my move, but then a hint of humor pulled at his lips. “Why have you returned, Cleo? I was certain that you would be too terrified of us to ever come back.”
“I...” I hesitated, not sure how to word everything that I wanted to say. “I just... I wanted to apologize. I know that I've been a lot of trouble lately for all of you, and I shouldn't have stuck my nose in your business. Last night especially... I sort of freaked out a lot more than I had the right to, and you guys didn't deserve my craziness.” I bit my lip and hoped that he would say something, but he was digesting my words, so I continued to explain. “Back in Seattle, a couple of years ago, I had this boyfriend. He was too old for me, and he did a lot of things he shouldn't have done. I did a pretty good job not getting dragged into it with him, but it had its price. He got angry at me a lot. Sometimes...” I stopped for a long moment, and decided to let the sentence hang. “Last night when I saw Reba on the floor, it brought back some memories that I didn't want to face. It brought back a lot of pain, and I was a little delirious from lack of sleep and the cut in my foot, and all the anger that I took out on you, well... you didn't deserve it.”
When I finished and met his gaze again, I was surprised to find sympathy waiting for me. His eyes carefully scanned my face, and it didn't take long for me to feel awkward.
“Please say something,” I said with a cringe.
“Cleo,” he said, brushing his hand along my face and tucking my wet hair behind my ear. “You have absolutely no need to apologize. Quite frankly, you are the most fun that any of us have had in years.”
I was stunned for a moment, but then a small, disbelieving laugh escaped my throat. “What? You... you don't think I'm annoying or... or crazy?”
His lips slowly parted to a grin and he shook his head. I noticed that his teeth were well taken care of, but it almost looked like he had a set of fangs growing. They were twice as long as the rest of the teeth, and particularly pointed. The grin faded quickly, however, and I knew that he must have noticed my glance.
“What's your name?”
“Djibaaji.”
“Jee-bah-jee.”
“Close enough.”
“Djibaaji,” I began, turning my body to face him on the piano bench. “Will you tell me the truth about something?”
He considered the question for a moment before giving me a gentle answer. “I would never lie to you, Cleo.”
“What are you?”
He paused, and I saw his gaze wander down my body and back up again. However, it wasn't the same smoldering, lustful look Dante had had in his eye when he'd looked me over. I didn't know the thoughts running through Djibaaji's head at that moment, but I got the feeling that it was more of an evaluating glance. “I am a demon.”
“A demon. Like, from hell.”
He cocked his head slightly, considering. “It is somewhat more complicated than that, but yes.”
“Complicated how?” I pressed.
He sighed and stared at me, and I knew that he didn't want to continue, but he did anyway. “Thousands of years ago, the war in heaven separated its inhabitants into two factions. One was the angels, and the other was the fallen angels that became demons. Things were clearly cut in those days. An angel was good, a demon was evil. But the passage of time and generations changes even the hearts of those that time should not be able to touch. In recent years, there are more and more angels cast out of heaven and demons cast out of hell. There are fallen angels and demons who seek to do good. I am one of those who have been cast out for betraying my blood.”
“That's complicated.” I took the liberty of summarizing for him.
“I would not want you to think that I could ever mean you any harm.”
I looked him over, the first bona fide demon that I had ever met. “Well, that explains why it looks like you haven't been shopping in a while. What about Felix and...?”
“Felix and Cain? Felix is of angelic descent, and Cain is human, like yourself. However, he is no ordinary human. He is a mage.”
“A mage.”
“He is capable of performing magic of a very powerful nature.”
“Sure. Right. Of course.” I furrowed my brow and stood up, stepping away from the piano bench. “If that's true, then why are you willing to tell me this?”
“You are particularly strong willed, Cleo. I am comfortable divulging this to you because in my opinion, even if I did not, you would find some way of learning it anyway.”
Strong willed. That was a good way to phrase numb-skulled. “Good thinking,” I said. I turned around with a grin, but was startled to find him closer behind me than I had expected. I was humbled by the sight of him standing directly in front of me- he was taller than I had thought before. As I fought the urge to shrink away from his imposing figure, he reached up and cupped my face in his hand. The long nails of his fingers rested softly against the flesh of my cheek, and he bent down to bring his face much closer to mine. I wasn't sure what he was going to do. And I never found out, because at the moment that his eyes had just begun to delve into mine, my phone went off in my pocket.
Startled, I jumped away from him and brought out the phone. It was Kennedy.
“Hey, my Biznatch. Reba filled me in on last night. You've got to be freaking kidding me. You guys burst into a house of hot creepers and you didn't tell me about it this morning? How dare you!”
“I... uh...” I put a hand to my head, trying to bring myself back to reality. “I was a little confused about it, and I don't think either of us really knew what to say.”
“Yeah, well, we're on our way to pick you up. Be ready to go in fifteen minutes.”
“Go where?”
“The house, duh. I wanna see this baby up close and personal!”
“I'm, ah, already there.”
“WHAT??” Kennedy's voice raised to such a decibel that I had to pull the phone away from my ear.
“Ow!”
“You went there without us?”
“I just wanted to figure some things out, and I didn't want to bother you guys with it.”
“Bother us? Chickadee, this is the most exciting thing that's happened in forever! We'll be over in five minutes.” Without giving me a chance to respond, she hung up, leaving me stunned.
“Do not let them come here,” Djibaaji said with a warning tone in their voice.
“Why not? If it's safe for me, then it's safe for them.”
“No, you are wrong. The magical world upon the Earth is a dangerous one, and one that is kept separated from the world of the mortals. The curtain cannot be broken from our side, only from yours. And once a mortal initiates themselves into this world, there is no taking it back.”
“Then I'm already initiated, and so is Reba.”
“But she is not,” Djibaaji answered, gesturing toward my phone.
“If you think I'm headstrong, you don't know Kennedy. We couldn't keep her out of this if we had the entire National Guard on our side.”
“Don't bother trying to convince her, Djibaaji,” came a voice from the passage that led to the front door. It was Cain. He stood there watching the two of us, and considering how oblivious I had been to his presence, he very well could have been there a while.
“I cannot willingly submit her and her friends to the dangers they will face if they are pulled into this,” Djibaaji said firmly, turning toward Cain and folding his arms.
“No matter what protective measures we take, they will all be initiated. Their fates demand it.” Cain moved toward me then, giving me a scrutinizing look. “Cleo Hellbusch, isn't it?”
“Yeah...?”
“Hmm.” And then again I got the appraising elevator eyes look. It was starting to bother me, actually, and from the look on Djibaaji's face, it was bothering him, too.
“You know, I think I'll go wait for the others,” I said, quickly extracting myself from the situation.