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But stopping to bleach my hair had proven a bad choice. After setting the dye, I’d promptly fallen asleep and woke to find my hair nearly white with patches of blue where the toner had sat too long. So, I had no choice but to find a color to cover it all—purple.
Not exactly the inconspicuous look I was going for, but at least it didn’t look like me. And there was no way Reina, my sister, would ever look for purple hair.
Thinking about Reina brought a scowl to my face. I knew why she’d done what she had. It was in her nature to protect me. She always had and always would, so long as we were alive. But sending me away? It was excessive. Especially when her husband, aliteral demon of Hell,would have the means and ability to “keep me safe.”
As if that’s why she’d sent me away.
Her husband was Satan. And I’m not being hyperbolic. He really was a prince of hell, alongside all his brothers, who were also demons disguised as mafia leaders. When Reina came to get me, she was mumbling about our dad and all his troubles, then she went off about the end of the world—something about how the Devil was being reincarnated—and she thought it was best I get out of Chicago.
Next thing I know, I’m in a nunnery of all places, being asked to swear my allegiance to a god that, according to my brother-in-law, doesn’t actually exist. It was a lot. And I lasted less than a week before I had to make my escape.
I didn’t know if they would chase me or if they’d tell Reina, and she’d sic hell-hounds on me (also real, apparently). So I ran. I had no idea where I was going or what to do, so I kept running.
And here I was—hopefully in an unoccupied house because I needed a safe haven for a couple of days until I figured out my plan.
Grabbing my shopping bag of cash stolen from the donation box at the nunnery, I made my way to the second floor. Almost at the top, I paused and glanced over my shoulder. So far, it didn’t appear there was anyone here with me, yet my neck prickled with that sensation of being watched.
“Hello?”
Still nothing. But I couldn’t deny the churning in my belly or how my hair was standing on end. I considered turning and going back downstairs to check it out, but as I did, the stairs creaked, reassuring me. If someonedidfollow me upstairs, they would warn me.
I edged the toe of my high-tops across the stairs, leaning my weight into it, relieved at the long aching noise it made. With that, I continued to the top, pausing as I took in the faded and peeling wallpaper. In spots, it clung to the walls like it was holding on for one last grasp at life.
How long has this place been vacant?
Carefully making my way along the old carpeting, the floor creaked as if to let me know it would also alert me to anyone following. Still, I peered over the banister, hoping to catch someone in the act.
No one.
I shook my head, telling myself I was paranoid since learning demons and monsters were real. That had to be it.
The first door opened to a bedroom with an unmade bed. There was a discernable layer of dust on the mattress but flipping it should do the trick. I wasn’t looking to stay at the Hilton. I wanted somewhere to rest for the night. My feet were about ready to fall off.
Setting the bag on the floor, I moved over to the bed and braced myself for the twister of dust I was about to unleash. Gripping the mattress, I heaved and lifted it upward before tossing it toward the window. As it landed with a crash, a cloud of dust went everywhere, and I choked. A fit of coughing overtook me as I waved a hand in front of my face, trying not to swallow anymore.
Walking back to that side, I grunted as I lifted the mattress, trying to shuffle around the room to turn it the other way so it would flop onto the other side when I pushed it. It took me about ten minutes to coordinate my way around the room, but finally, I had a non-dusty mattress.
Satisfied, I decided I needed a shower before bed. After running for two days straight, I was muddied and bloodied. There was no sense in lying on that dust-free mattress with my dirty ass.
The minute I was out in the hallway, I felt that eerie feeling again—like somebody was watching me. It didn’t help that this place was dark and dank. Without electricity, I was squinting in shadows at best.
“Stop freaking yourself out, Irina,” I chastised myself as the next door I opened revealed the bathroom.
Stepping inside, I was surprised to find it was fully furnished in the way you’d expect a bathroom to be—hand towels hung off the ring on the wall, an old toothbrush abandoned in a spit cup, and a soap bar that was dirtier than any hands it had ever seen. Like my bedroom, everything was covered in a thick quilt of age.
I checked under the cupboard and found towels, relieved there was one that wasn’t nearly as dusty as the rest at the bottom. I shook it out for good measure before hanging it over the curtain rod, not wanting to set it on the dirty counter.
Taking a deep breath, I braced myself for my inevitable cold shower and pushed the curtain open enough to reveal the bath and shower combo. This place wasold school.It had those twisty knobs with a little stopper to activate the showerhead. After a moment of fiddling, I got it going and then, to my surprise, found the water warm.
I frowned as my hand remained under the hot stream.That’s weird.But I wasn’t going to let this unusual opportunity go to waste. I quickly shucked my clothes and left them in a pile on the floor before scrambling into the shower.
I sighed in relief as the hot water hit my muscles, but as I pulled the curtain closed, I could’ve sworn a shadow passed by out of the corner of my eye. I quickly yanked it back again and stuck my head out.
Still nothing.
I growled in annoyance at myself, my eyes flicking to my reflection. “You need to stop this, Irina. You’re going to give yourself a heart attack. There’s nobody here. They would’ve revealed themselves by now.”
With that, hoping my stern lecture was enough, I closed the curtains again and reveled in my hot shower.
