The Devil's Heir Read online

  Snorts echo around the barn when Luke pulls back to glare at the brazen girl and then walks away, leaving her standing alone. Becca waves at the girl when she turns to follow Luke with her eyes. Sasha flips Becca off and goes to join her group, already forgotten by us.

  “Sorry I’m late,” Luke says when he approaches our circle. “I didn’t want to come.”

  He doesn’t say it to be sarcastic, just a matter of fact.

  “Nonsense, sit.” Daisy pats the empty seat next to her. “We were just getting started.”

  “Hey, man. Glad you decided to come,” Tyler says.

  The red flames from the fire dance in the darkness of Luke’s eyes. “Seems like I didn’t really have a choice in the matter.”

  “Yeah, what’s up with your little sister?” Becca the Brave says. “She’s a wild one.”

  His eyes flash at the mention of his sister, but he quickly composes himself. “I ask myself the same question every day.”

  The group laughs.

  “Why don’t you tell us about yourself, Luke?” Freddie says.

  “Give the man a beer before we make him spill.” Daisy demands and holds her hand out to Tyler.

  Tyler reaches down into the cooler and tosses the bottle over the flame. Luke catches it with one hand and tosses the bottle cap to the side before taking a swig.

  “My life is boring actually,” Luke says.

  Becca shakes her head. “Uh, uh, uh. I don’t think so. You sit with us, you tell us.”

  Luke doesn’t seem surprised at the persistence. “What is it you want to know?”

  “Family? Who are the Hales?”

  “As far as you need to know, my sister and I are all who matter.”

  Daisy raises her brow at him. “What, no parents?”

  He clucks his tongue. “Mother died, Father’s not really in the picture these days.”

  “So, you’re not the Devil’s son?”

  My breath catches. His poker face is too good. Instead, he snickers and barely looks up before taking a big swig from the bottle.

  “What do you think?”

  “I’m just going to come out and say yes.” Becca ignores the stern eyes being directed at her. “How weird is it that Hale Manor has been empty for years, and all of a sudden it’s alive and now there’s two Hale descendants in town? I’d say it’s a little freaky. And we live in a town named after the Devil. Coincidence?”

  Luke seems unfazed by the accusations. “I agree. Whoever named this town did a terrible job. And as far as my family goes, we’ve always considered this place a vacation house. Always in the family, never bothered to visit.”

  “So, what you’re really saying is you’re just another rich kid with daddy issues?” Freddie asks.

  “Sorry to disappoint.”

  Luke stares into the fire. He’s lying, he has to be. There’s too much torture in his eyes for it to be simple.

  “Well now you’re as boring as the rest of us. Welcome to Diablo, Luke Hale.”

  His eyes meet mine over the flame. “Pleasure.”

  “Okay, last question,” Daisy interrupts with a glance at me. “What’s the deal with your sister’s obsession with Calla?”

  I want to shrink but if I move any further back, I’ll fall off the log.

  Luke studies me for a moment. I can’t read anything from him but when he smirks, I flinch. “She reminds my sister of someone from my past, and Lily thinks Calla might help me. But she’s nothing like that person, so don’t worry about it. I’ll talk to my sister—again.”

  How could I be of any use to him? Me? The girl everyone overlooks. The girl with nothing to offer.

  I need air and a minute to myself. “I’m going to go grab a jacket from the car.”

  “Luke, why don’t you go with Calla?” Daisy says after she hands me her car keys. “She shouldn’t be going by herself.”

  Before he can take the beer bottle away from his lips, Tyler stands up. “I’ll go with her.”

  Daisy purses her lips but doesn’t insist. Tyler places his hand on the small of my back and leads me through the groups surrounding the fires and out of the Barn. The wind decides to pick up. I release a violent shiver.

  Tyler laughs and shivers too. “Perfect timing, huh?”

  “I’m lucky I brought a sweater in the first place.”

  He takes the keys from me to open the trunk. “I would have given you mine if you hadn’t.”

  “I wouldn’t let you.”

  He leans forward and places his forearm against the open lid of the trunk. “You wouldn’t be able to stop me, Calla Jones.”

  “Don’t tell me you’re the type who always gets what he wants.”

  “Hardly.” He laughs. “But I would have said it was the gentleman thing to do.”

  I almost respond but his phone rings. “Sorry, I have to take this. I’ll just be right over here.” He steps back, giving me the space I didn’t know I wanted.

  Tyler walks a few feet away before lifting the phone to his ear. What is it with this town? Maybe once the excitement of being one of the new kids wears off, I’ll be able to fade into the background again and out of the line of sight.

  I take out the jacket I brought and shove an arm through when a rustle in the nearby bushes catches my attention. Tyler’s back is still to me and I don’t want to bother him. I carefully close the trunk and follow the sound after I put my coat on. At the edge of the clearing, a bush is rattling, the leaves shaking.

  “Hello?” I whisper, “Is anyone there?”

  I pick up a long stick lying in the dirt and proceed cautiously. With unsure hands, I reach out and poke at the bush. My heart leaps when something runs out and dashes away.

  “It’s okay, little guy, I just want to help.”

  It’s too dark to see. I should head back inside.

  A rumble breaks the silence, followed by an unmistakable growl.

  “Definitely not a bunny.”

  Behind the tree the creature ran to, I see a pair of familiar glowing orbs. The same ones I saw the night Aunt Polly and I snuck into the manor. I think Lily’s stalking me again, but the growl gets louder. The harsh wind causes my eyes to tear up, and the red begins to blend into the rest of the night. I can no longer be certain of what I’m seeing but know I need to get out of here.

  Holding the stick up, I inch backward and yelp when I bump into something. I swing around and prepare for a fight. Luke Hale grabs the stick from my hands.

  “You really have a death wish, don’t you?”

  I touch my pounding heart. “What are you doing out here?”

  “That boy came back in without you, so I came out to make sure you were okay.”

  “I thought I heard a dog or something so I came to look, but I think it might have been a bear.”

  Even in the dark I can see his smirk. “I highly doubt it.”

  Before I can take another step, his hand grips my shoulder and turns me around to face him.

  “Listen,” he says as if I have a choice, “I want you to know this is nothing against you.”

  “The hostility or your sister’s obsession with me?”

  I don’t know where my confidence is coming from. I’ve never spoken back to anyone before.

  “Anything. I’m only here for my sister, so don’t take anything personally.”

  He steps to the side and motions me to continue back to the barn. I clear my throat and hope the wind carries it before the sound reaches his ears. If I had a tail, I’d be walking away with it between my legs.

  At the edge of the clearing, a piercing scream stops me. Off to one side outside the barn, a small group of people hover over something. The Barn doors open and a mob of students comes out. I edge closer with Luke at my side. More screams ring out. Luke pulls me into his chest. I try to fight him, but when he grabs the back of my neck, I flash back to the night he had his hand wrapped around my throat and freeze.

  “You don’t need to see this,” he says.

  Fr
om the cries and the frantic whispers, I can guess what it is. Hushed words like “dead body,” “murder,” and “cops” confirm my suspicion.

  I wrap my shaking arms around Luke’s torso and burrow my face deeper into his chest, as close as he’ll let me. His free hand rubs circles on my shoulder blade. Heat from his breath warms my scalp and for the briefest second, I forget where I am.

  I’m able to drown out the noise until someone calls my name. Luke steps out of my hold so abruptly my arms are still holding onto his invisible frame.

  Daisy shakes my shoulders. Concern darkens her eyes. “What the hell happened?”

  Luke is nowhere to be seen.

  “I-I don’t know. We were…we were—we were just getting my jacket when the screaming started.”

  Becca’s still holding onto her red plastic cup and chugs it before dropping it to the ground. “It’s happening.”

  “What’s happening?” I ask.

  “The Devil’s home,” she says with a serious face.

  My stomach twists.

  “Nah.” She laughs. “I’m just messing with you, but Freddie, you should probably call your dad.”

  “Shiiiit.” Freddie stretches and lets out a groan. Sirens approach. “I think he already knows.”

  People scatter. Car doors slam shut. But it’s too late. Bright spotlights shine over the clearing.

  “Everyone out of your cars and line up,” an officer calls over the loudspeaker.

  Faces around us are nervous as people reluctantly get out of their cars. My group of friends remains by a tree while the two police cars park. An older man with heavy resemblance to Freddie steps out the car labeled “Sheriff,” and his heavy boot lands on the thick pile of mulch.

  The man speaks quietly to his partner and then they separate, the partner approaching the group of lined up kids while Freddie’s father heads to us. The gray in his hair and wrinkles on his forehead are the only things separating the two men.

  Freddie steps forward just in time for his father’s hand to land on his shoulder. “You kids all right?” the sheriff asks.

  “We were doing just fine, Sheriff,” Becca says.

  “I’ll just bet you were, Becca.” His eyes shift to the red cup at her feet.

  Becca kicks it into the bush behind her.

  The sheriff sighs. “Does anyone want to tell me what happened here?”

  “Murder, obviously, Sheriff,” Daisy says.

  I glance over his shoulders to the others. The group from the Barn is smaller than before, but Sasha Warren still manages to stand out amongst the crowd. She’s probably searching for her lost conquest.

  We catch eyes, and the look in hers is similar to the one Luke gave me the first night we met. Maybe they were meant to be together.

  A hand touches me. I flinch. “Sorry to be meeting you under these circumstances, Calla Jones.”

  It isn’t the first time I’ve met a sheriff under similar circumstances, but I don’t tell him that.

  “I’m sorry you were called out here,” I tell the sheriff.

  He rocks on his heels. “You kids get going. We’ll pick this up when I get home, Freddie.”

  Dismissed, we get into our cars while everyone else is left in the cold. When I’m buckled in my seat and the heater is blasting, I’m surprised we weren’t questioned further.

  While Daisy slept beautifully on her purple pillows, I didn’t sleep at all. Every moment of last night replayed through my head; the red eyes, Luke’s embrace, and yet again being connected to a murder.

  Now awake, Daisy is full of conspiracy theories and, not surprisingly, they’re all focused around the infamous siblings.

  She rummages through her closet. “I can’t believe a murder happened. Do you think it’s a serial killer?”

  Cocooned in her comfy covers, I certainly hope not. “I don’t think one murder counts as a serial killer.”

  “We’re in Diablo, Calla.”

  I snort.

  “It’s about time, don’t you think?”

  My face contorts. “I don’t think so. I’m looking for a peaceful and murder-free life.”

  Daisy laughs. “Says the girl who was curled in the Devil’s arms last night.”

  It’s an obvious joke, but my spine tenses at the imagery. “That wasn’t what it looked like.”

  “Hey, I’m not here to judge. I’m here to extract details, actually. All the details.”

  “I hate to disappoint but he was just protecting me from the chaos. There wasn’t anything—” Daisy begins groaning and clutches at her heart.

  I watch in horror, unsure what she’s experiencing. “What? What’s wrong?”

  “God,” Daisy moans, “that’s so hot.”

  I raise a brow. “What’s hot?”

  “He was trying to protect you from a murderer, shielding you with his arms, willing to take a bullet for you. God. So hot.”

  “That’s not exactly what happened.”

  “Let me fantasize, okay? I don’t know if you noticed but no one was running to pull me into their arms for protection.”

  I hesitate to respond but try for humor. “Like you said, I don’t think you’d want to be in the arms of the Devil.”

  “What’s the worst thing that can happen?” She smirks.

  The paranoid schoolgirl comes out of me. “They’re actually the Devil’s kids and they’re here to kill everyone.”

  “Well, if that’s true, then I hope it’s at least one hell of a ride.” She laughs at her own joke.

  “Not funny,” I tell her.

  “What? I’ve lived in this little town my whole life. If this is God’s plan, then at least I can tell the rest of the angels we went out with a bang.”

  Someone knocks on her door. We jump.

  “Daisy? Calla? Are you girls up?”

  Daisy’s mom peeks her head into the room before pushing the door open at the sight of us up and talking.

  “Morning, Mrs. Winthrop,” I say.

  The bubbly blonde comes into the room and sits on the edge of the bed. “How are we feeling this morning?”

  Of course, Daisy’s parents found out what happened the moment we stepped foot in the two-story home. One of the deputies called to tell them about the murder and informed them about our presence on the scene.

  When we walked up the steps to the house with the Winthrops looming in the doorway, my heart began pumping and my tongue bled from biting it—preparing for punishment.

  Instead, they hugged us. People I had never met before wrapped me in their arms and when they said they were glad we were okay, their voices were strained. I forced a smile, having no experience with sentiment.

  Daisy sighs. “Fine, mother.”

  “I only want to make sure you girls stay safe. And to let you know if you need somebody to talk to about what you saw, you just let me know. Your dad and I will find someone—”

  “Mom,” Daisy groans, “we didn’t see anything. It’s fine. We’re fine.”

  Mrs. Winthrop slowly nods, her eyes searching her daughter’s face. “Okay, okay, I hear ya. But if anything comes up, you promise you’ll say something?”

  My friend nods. “Of course. We promise.”

  Mrs. Winthrop’s hand lands on my knee and I stare at it with surprise. “You too, Calla. We’re here for you, too.”

  “I appreciate that, Mrs. Winthrop,” I whisper softly.

  She winks at me, and the worry lines on her forehead smooth out. “So, what are us girls talking about?”

  “Oh, the usual,” Daisy says.

  “Boys?” Mrs. Winthrop smiles.

  I turn crimson.

  “Mom, it would be a miracle if there were any new boys to be talking about in this town.”

  “There are plenty of fine boys in town.”

  “Yeah, the last one being Dad.”

  “Well, the word around town is Hale Manor is now occupied. Maybe there’s a Mr. Hale in the house.”

  “Mom,” Daisy laughs. “Are you liste
ning to the town’s gossip?”

  Mrs. Winthrop fakes taking offense with a dainty hand to her chest. “Is it really gossiping if it’s true? I ran into Mrs. Henson at the flower shop, and she told me she enrolled one Luke and Lily Hale.”

  “Okay, fine,” Daisy says, “the rumors are true.”

  Her mom squeals. “Tell me, tell me.”

  I blink in surprise at her enthusiasm.

  Daisy groans. “Ask Calla. Luke’s already spoken for.”

  The blue eyes behind invisible-framed glasses turn to me. “Oh, Calla, looks like you’re the chosen one.”

  “I don’t think so.” I laugh.

  “Nonsense. You’re such a pretty girl! A natural dark-haired beauty. What’s not to like about you?”

  “I wish I could tell you.”

  “Well, keep me updated, yeah? I like to be in the know.”

  I promise to.

  Mrs. Winthrop stands up and fixes the bedsheets. “Come on, girls. I have some errands to run and then I’ll treat us to some brunch, yes?”

  She doesn’t give us a chance to respond, just claps her hands and tells us to get up.

  Once we’re changed, we head downstairs.

  “Good morning, Mr. Winthrop.”

  “Morning, girls.” Daisy’s father acknowledges us over his morning newspaper. “Your mother tells me she’s going to drag you out.”

  “That’s right.” Daisy leans in to kiss her father’s cheek.

  “So, Calla,” her father says, “Daisy here tells me you live with your aunt.”

  I cringe inwardly at the awkward conversation I seem to be having over and over again. I nod.

  He laughs and picks up his teacup to take a sip. “Sorry, you must hate that.”

  “No, it’s okay.”

  “No, it’s not,” he says. “I’m a professor, and I can ready body language pretty well. I made you uncomfortable.”

  I release an embarrassed laugh. “Sorry, I’ve just answered that question about a hundred times it seems.”

  “Got it,” he says. “So, you’re just Calla Jones, friend of my daughter. That’s all that matters to me, anyway.”

  “Thank you.” I pause. “What are you a professor of?”

  “Demonology.”

  The hair stands on the back of my neck. He said it so casually I almost don’t believe him. “Sorry, demonology?”