Page 23 of Nosfer-Meet You

“Good call,” I say, and nudge her lightly in the ribs. She rolls her eyes but continues staring up at the sky.

I shove more doner into my mouth, chew, and discard it into the box. This is not a pretty sight by any means, but thankfully everyone else around us really is too drunk to notice, otherwise this would be an awkward outing. And then Juliette looks back at me with a question lingering in her eyes.

“What’s up?” I ask.

“I would like to tell you the rest of the story now, if you would humor me,” she says.

My brows knit together. I set my fork down in the mush of half-eaten doner. “Uh, yeah. Sure. But … I mean. Do you really want to?”

She nods. “I do. It’s … cathartic.”

I don’t want to ruin the moment, but I have to know. “Is this the first year you’re spending your death day with someone?”

Juliette nibbles on her bottom lip before nodding. “Yes. Yes, it is.”

“When were you turned again, exactly?”

She pauses for a moment, looks up at the sky, and holds up her hand to silently count. “I believe it was in 1793.”

“So, like. Two-hundred-something years ago,” I say, and rub the back of my neck. Oh, yikes. That’s got to be bloody rough. “Well, egg on, then. Speak your mind.”

Juliette frowns, and there’s those cute little dimples in the corners of her mouth again. Ah, hells. Why’s she got to go and have dimples? I need to pinch ’em. And then the damned intrusive thoughts win, because I set my platter of doner down and grab her white cheeks and squish ’em between my fingers. Juli lets out a garbled protest.

“Yep. Knew it,” I mutter. “You’re secretly a cutie.”

Juliette swats my hands away and bares her pearly white fangs at me again, but I swear I see the twinkle of amusement in her eyes. Or maybe that’s just wishful thinking on my part. “And you are not-so-secretly a fucking idiot.”

“Yeah,” I say, and drop my hands back to my side. “You’re right about that. Now, I’m going to continue eating, and you’re going to continue your story.” I boop her on the nose again with the other end of my fork. “But if you start spiraling again, I’m going to squish your face.”

Juliette lets out a resigned sigh. “Fine. Just try not to interrupt me so much this time.”

I nod. “Deal.”

Chapter 14

Juliette

WORTHY

1793

Idon’t wake for three whole days. During that time, I dream as Dante said I would, and the dreams are filled with chaos. Infernos I can’t escape. Screaming babies being tossed into a lake of blood by demons with enormous, leathery wings the size of horses. Basilisks slithering along the charcoal beaches on their bellies, unhinging their jaws to devour anyone unfortunate enough to cross their paths. The pain and suffering are incomparable … a red lake of fire inhabited by only the worst creatures. Women with red skin and angelic faces using their tails like whips, flaying open skin with cracks sharp as thunder.

Just when I believe I’ve gone truly mad from the depravity, wispy tendrils caress my face like a cool breeze.

“Come back to me,” a deep, gravelly voice beckons. Whoever it is sounds like a scratchy woolen sweater. Agitating, yes, but also warm and inviting. “Come back to me.”

My body feels as though it’s been stuffed with lead and tossed into the lake. It doesn’t move when I command it, though I desperately want to be free from whatever realm of existence this is.

“Come back and join your father,” the voice pleads, this time much more commanding.

His fingers are no longer soothing gestures of love. Now his claws tear at my flesh as he drags me from my dreams, away from the demons and blood and fire and, oh, there was so much fire it should have been suffocating.

“I will sunder every layer of Hell if I must, little dove. Please come willingly so that I need not expend the effort,” he growls.

Realization slaps me upside the head. Dante.

My eyes fly open.