Death's Daughter Part 27

"When Old High and Mighty upstairs created the job of Death Death, it was decided that there would only be one one successor in any given generation, and that successor would be so human, so split between Good and Evil, that the balance between the two would be kept in check." successor in any given generation, and that successor would be so human, so split between Good and Evil, that the balance between the two would be kept in check."

"That's my father," I said. The Devil nodded.

"But then there was the backup plan," he continued. "This was my own personal idea-one that I almost had to force force the stupid Board of Death to ratify, the stinkers. This plan called for there to be the stupid Board of Death to ratify, the stinkers. This plan called for there to be two possibilities two possibilities who could vie for the job of who could vie for the job of Death Death should the true successor-the one with the birthright-be unable to fulfill the job. One of the possibilities would be from the good side of the tracks, and the other . . . well, the other would be one of should the true successor-the one with the birthright-be unable to fulfill the job. One of the possibilities would be from the good side of the tracks, and the other . . . well, the other would be one of my my minions." minions."

"Daniel," I said under my breath.

"Precisely! Oh, you do catch on fast," he said, smiling.

"Go on," I said. "Tell me about my father."

"Your father rescinded your birthright."

"What?" I said uncertainly. I said uncertainly.

"You're the one with the birthright, Cal. Your father thought you weren't up to the job, so he asked for the Board to step in and relieve you of the future position."

It was like the Devil had punched me in the stomach. I felt the air whoosh out of my lungs, and I totally couldn't breathe. The world turned a funny, dark color, and I could hear my heart thudding sluggishly in my ears. I couldn't believe what the Devil had just said. My father had rescinded rescinded my birthright-a birthright that I didn't even know I had had-because he thought I wasn't worthy of the job? my birthright-a birthright that I didn't even know I had had-because he thought I wasn't worthy of the job?

"How did he know I I was the one?" I asked, my voice like glue in my mouth. was the one?" I asked, my voice like glue in my mouth.

The Devil clapped his hands together excitedly. He was becoming more and more comfortable with me, showing me exactly what kind of a creep he really really was: a s.e.xy, dirty, nasty, jerkoid one. was: a s.e.xy, dirty, nasty, jerkoid one.

"When you were a little girl, you were the one who found Yamatanka stuck inside that nasty little Frenchman, Marcel, who was stuck out in the desert where your father left him to rot."

"My father did that to him?" I managed to get out. I couldn't believe Father would do something so horrible to someone, regardless of who they were. I mean, I didn't like the guy any more than my father probably did, but I would never never tie him to a palm tree with a little string and leave him there all by himself to rot. tie him to a palm tree with a little string and leave him there all by himself to rot.

Or would I?

Actually, on second thought, this was was Marcel we were talking about. The guy who tried to kill me after I'd totally been nice enough to set him free? Maybe my father wasn't so far off the mark, after all. Marcel we were talking about. The guy who tried to kill me after I'd totally been nice enough to set him free? Maybe my father wasn't so far off the mark, after all.

The Devil, a cruel smile on his handsome face, waggled his finger at me like I was a small child.

"Of course your father did, silly girl! It was the only way to keep the Ender of Death the Ender of Death where he could see him, and also, as it turned out, it was a marvelous way to monitor the advent of 'the one with the birthright.' where he could see him, and also, as it turned out, it was a marvelous way to monitor the advent of 'the one with the birthright.' You You, as the story goes."

"Uh-huh," I said, wis.h.i.+ng he wouldn't digress so much, that he'd finish the story and put me out of my misery.

"Of course, all of this showed the supernatural world that you you were the true successor." were the true successor."

"Look, it was a stupid accident. I was playing hide-and-seek-"

"Yes, I remember," the Devil interrupted. "You did did hide-and-seek your way right into h.e.l.l that afternoon." hide-and-seek your way right into h.e.l.l that afternoon."

"Why me?" I almost wailed. I was still reeling from Father's betrayal. I wanted to know why why the universe had decided to screw with my life so badly. the universe had decided to screw with my life so badly.

But the Devil didn't have my answer.

"Who knows why you were chosen? I surely don't," he said. "But I do do know what you're going to do for me right now." know what you're going to do for me right now."

"Yeah, what's that?" I said, not liking his tone one little bit.

"You're going to bind yourself to my will for eternity."

I glared at him. He was so full of himself that it made me sick to look at him.

"And if I don't?" I said.

He looked at me sadly.

"I was afraid you'd say that."

The Devil shook his head and began to walk toward me. He was lithe as a cat. His long, toned body moved with such grace that it was impossible to keep my eyes off him. He truly was a s.e.xual predator of the highest degree. It made me wonder how much time I'd really spent with him when I thought I was dealing with his protege. That thought made me actually sick.

"That's precisely why I brought you here, in fact. Now I really am am going to have to go and fetch Daniel-that was a nasty blow I gave him to the back of the head, wasn't it-but so effective. I need to start prep-ping him for his new job since his predecessor was such an abysmal failure." going to have to go and fetch Daniel-that was a nasty blow I gave him to the back of the head, wasn't it-but so effective. I need to start prep-ping him for his new job since his predecessor was such an abysmal failure."

"Please don't," I said, but the Devil ignored my words.

"I have one piece of advice for you. When you fall? Don't look down. It'll just freak you out."

"Why?" I said, trying to remain calm, even though I was scared out of my wits.

"Because. h.e.l.l is bottomless, silly."

And with that he reached out and shoved me so hard with his long, tapered fingers that I didn't even feel my feet leave the ground.

you know how I said I was obsessed with the edge, that I'd always always wanted to pitch myself into the horizon and see what happened? Well, I just want to say here and now wanted to pitch myself into the horizon and see what happened? Well, I just want to say here and now that I was frickin' crazy! What idiot in their right mind throws themselves off a b.l.o.o.d.y cliff? that I was frickin' crazy! What idiot in their right mind throws themselves off a b.l.o.o.d.y cliff?

the devil was right. I should've kept my eyes closed. When you stare into nothingness and nothingness stares back at you, it's a pretty horrible feeling.

As I fell, I only seemed to pick up speed, so that the longer I was in free fall, the faster the nothingness swooshed past me. It was very jarring and disconcerting . . . and totally and completely sad. sad. Here I was, in the prime of my life, and I would never get to eat an ice cream cone again. I would never get to explain to Clio that I was really the Here I was, in the prime of my life, and I would never get to eat an ice cream cone again. I would never get to explain to Clio that I was really the good guy good guy in the story. I would never get to buy another pair of skinny jeans, or go to the gym and drop twelve pounds so I could fit into a perfect Marc Jacob's size zero. in the story. I would never get to buy another pair of skinny jeans, or go to the gym and drop twelve pounds so I could fit into a perfect Marc Jacob's size zero.

But then, like a miracle, the opposite opposite of the sad and endless free-fall existence I'd imagined for myself happened. After I'd totally prepared myself to spend the rest of my immortal eternity racing toward nothing, my body a bullet with no body to embed itself in- of the sad and endless free-fall existence I'd imagined for myself happened. After I'd totally prepared myself to spend the rest of my immortal eternity racing toward nothing, my body a bullet with no body to embed itself in- I unexpectedly found something. something.

And that something . . . was G.o.d.

twenty-six.

"Calliope Reaper-Jones, can you hear me?"

It was the weird voice from the beach, the one that reminded me of RuPaul. The one that had made sure I got my Sea Foam.

"Yeah!" I yelled back, the sound of my own voice flying back into my face as I continued my race toward the bottom of nothingness.

"Do you trust me?"

Do I trust the voice? I can't even tell what gender it it is, let alone whether or not I'm supposed to, in all good conscience, trust it. is, let alone whether or not I'm supposed to, in all good conscience, trust it.

I decided not to answer-even though it had had gotten me the Sea Foam-and the voice stayed mum, which made me think it was just a fluke, something I had probably gotten me the Sea Foam-and the voice stayed mum, which made me think it was just a fluke, something I had probably thought thought I had heard because I was scared and lonely and wanted a friend. I had heard because I was scared and lonely and wanted a friend.

Wait a minute-if I was gonna be chillin' in a bottomless pit at the edge of h.e.l.l for, like, eternity, why didn't I just accept any weird voice that I may or may not have heard, and say thank you for the company?

I really should stop feeling so negative about my fate. At least the terrible Death voice had shut up after its last run-in with the Devil-thank G.o.d for small favors.

"If I tell you what I am, will you trust me?" the voice said, startling me. the voice said, startling me.

There it is again, I thought, my friendly copilot in the long trip to the bottom of the bottomless pit of h.e.l.l. my friendly copilot in the long trip to the bottom of the bottomless pit of h.e.l.l.

I seemed to be getting loopier and loopier as the seconds pa.s.sed. I was gonna be nuttier than a fruitcake soon.

"Maybe!" I yelled.

There was a pause, and I really wasn't sure the voice was going to speak again, but-as if to confirm my insanity-it did.

"I am that I am."

It took a moment to process what the voice was saying.

"Are you saying that you're G.o.d?" I screamed, my body hurtling faster and faster through the nothingness. "Is that that what you're saying?!" what you're saying?!"

"It is," the voice said. the voice said.

"Why should I believe you? If what you're saying is true, then you're the one that gave me that stupid birthright in the first place! You're the reason I'm in this crazy mess!"

My voice was getting hoa.r.s.e from screaming at G.o.d. It was definitely not not the way I ever saw myself conversing with the Creator of All Things, but I was really starting to get upset about the compromising position I'd been put into. the way I ever saw myself conversing with the Creator of All Things, but I was really starting to get upset about the compromising position I'd been put into.

"I only gave you the opportunity opportunity to get yourself into this mess," to get yourself into this mess," G.o.d said in its s.e.xy, yet G.o.d said in its s.e.xy, yet s.e.xless s.e.xless voice. voice.

"Oh, that's free will free will you're talking about!" I spat back at G.o.d. I knew where you're talking about!" I spat back at G.o.d. I knew where this this conversation was going. It was going right to the place where everyone could point their finger at me and say, "The whole thing's your own fault, Calliope Reaper-Jones." conversation was going. It was going right to the place where everyone could point their finger at me and say, "The whole thing's your own fault, Calliope Reaper-Jones."

There was a long silence, and then I swear I heard G.o.d trying not to laugh at me.

"That is free will, Calliope Reaper-Jones." is free will, Calliope Reaper-Jones."

See, I thought miserably, I thought miserably, right on the money with that one! right on the money with that one!

"All right," I said, "you win."

So G.o.d had pulled the trump card-I had had gotten myself into the whole crazy mess. It wasn't like I was gotten myself into the whole crazy mess. It wasn't like I was forced forced to say yes to my mother and Father McGee. I hadn't been to say yes to my mother and Father McGee. I hadn't been forced forced to tell the Devil "no." to tell the Devil "no."

I hadn't been forced-coerced and guilt-tripped, maybe, but never forced forced-to do anything anything.

"G.o.d?" I said.

"Yes, Calliope Reaper-Jones."

"I don't want to be Death anymore."

"I know, my dear, but sometimes you can't always get what you want."

I really hated the fact that G.o.d had just quoted the Stones at me-even if the sentiment was right on the mark.

d.a.m.n it, my eyes were tired of crying, and I was sick of my heart hurting. I wanted to go back to my c.r.a.ppy little Battery Park City apartment in New York and crawl into bed so I could pull the covers over my head . . . and just disappear.

"You have to finish what you started, Calliope," G.o.d said. G.o.d said.

Okay, I knew G.o.d was right, but it sucked that I had to admit it-so I hedged for a little bit longer.

"How can I finish anything when I'm lost in a bottomless pit at the edge of h.e.l.l!" I yelled up at G.o.d.

"Oh, honey," G.o.d said, laughing. G.o.d said, laughing. "That's the easy part." "That's the easy part."

there was only silence.

I had stopped falling a long time before, but I hadn't had the nerve to open my eyes and see where I was. I was terrified I'd be back in the deserts of h.e.l.l, my leg tied to a palm tree with a loop of charmed translucent nylon.

Finally, after I gave myself a good stiff talking-to, I steeled my heart for utter disappointment and opened my eyes.

I was sitting on the topmost step of a long, intricately carved temple stairway. Below me lay the remains of what was once Indra's glorious soundstage. Now the stage looked like a heinous battle had taken place there only moments before. The once beautiful backdrops were in tatters, the scenery in shreds, the stairs torched . . . even the utility closet we'd used for a hiding place was a scattered mess of brooms and buckets.

What the h.e.l.l happened here? I thought to myself. I thought to myself.

I stood up and surveyed the s.p.a.ce, looking for survivors.

It took me only a minute to see that there were none.

The Gopi were all dead, their bodies ripped open like stuffed animals, their entrails strewn around the painted scenery as if they were sacrificial garlands. It made me want to cry again, but I stuffed the feeling down deep into my gut, determined not to let emotion control me any longer.

I looked through the remains for any sign of Indra, but the only thing I found was a pair of bloodied tap shoes underneath a fallen flat. I guess whoever had done this had either killed him and taken his body with them, or . . . Well, the thought of Indra as someone's prisoner wasn't a pretty picture, either.

"Poor Gopi," I said, and even though they had totally tried to kick my a.s.s, I truly did mourn their pa.s.sing. It looked like they had been loyal bodyguards right up until the end.

I jumped off the stairs, careful not to step on anybody's intestinal tract, and made my way over to the camera. I wondered if Indra had been able to record his final battle on film, but when I got there, I saw that someone had ripped the film out of its delicate case, ruining whatever had been captured on it forever-dancing girls or bloodshed, I had no idea which.

"This sucks," I said under my breath.