The Devil's Daughter Complete Box Set, page 98
part #1 of The Devil's Daughter Series
Doodlebug shrugged. As far as the fools back in the lab were concerned, she was just the messenger, not the decision maker. “What do you need from me?”
“Since Sere is stuck in the professor’s computer, I can’t simply manifest her to the other side. I need a direct connection to his equipment.” Chloe took the two bones representing Sere and the Cormorant then added another from the bowl. “That would be the only member of the triad who’s wholly in life. Even if the tether from the Cormorant to Sere is weakened, the one from Jennifer to Jenna would be as strong as ever. Hopefully, Jennifer isn’t busy attending a PTA meeting, planning a dinner party, or performing some other conservative womanly duty.”
“Looks like I’ve got another ride ahead of me.” Doodlebug glared at Bernie. “Think you could find a more direct path from the cabin to the road and wait for my return somewhere I can find you?”
From his twisted face, she knew he was about to make another wildly annoying comment, but when he made eye contact with Chloe, his expression softened. “Just try to be back before dark. I’ll walk you back to your motorcycle.”
Chloe rounded up the bones. “While you’re convincing Jennifer to risk her soul again, I’ll contact Sanguine.”
Doodlebug felt like a teenager asking for money. “One other thing. The motorcycle ran out of gas.”
“For the love of hell.” Bernie pushed open the cabin door. “I’ve got a truck out by the main road. We’ll have to siphon off the gas.”
91
Chapter 6
Sere didn’t remember being a disembodied nine-year-old girl in Guinee, but even though the experience didn’t leave an imprint on her mind, it did on her soul. The loas of the dead disapproved of suicide. Serephine Malveaux’s death, however, hadn’t simply been a matter of slitting her wrists. Dark forces were at play, and that had made death’s guardians sympathetic to her plight. Because of their concern, her stint in purgatory was a little like time spent in the care of her grandparents—she’d felt uncomfortable but not unwelcome.
Though the professor’s computers carried none of that emotional warmth, her feeling of being in purgatory endured. The files labeled Jennifer Ellen Williams Cranston enticed Sere like a forbidden photo album of family secrets. She focused on the first entry. Young Jenny had only been eight when the professor’s equipment was first powered up. If Sere had been in a body, a lump would have formed in her throat at the image of the laughing redheaded child. Flaming locks of hair floated on the breeze as she twirled around the Moonwalk next to the river. From the metal bench, her parents kept a watchful eye on their only child but gave the girl more freedom than Sere felt appropriate. Jenny spread her arms, feeling the centrifugal force pulling at her hands. Her yellow dress spread from her hips, dipping and lifting like a merry-go-round. River birds sounded like they were laughing along with the child. If Jenny had only known how one of those blasted animals was about to be possessed by her doppelgänger spirit so Sere could take the projected body, she would not have been so carefree.
Sere closed her eyes to the memory. The projection of the happy child in hell wouldn’t have had any self-awareness at the time. At least, that was the hope Sere clung to. She wondered if the Cormorant carried the same memories.
She fast-forwarded to Jenny as a preteen—tall, lanky, and uncoordinated. These were Jenny’s awkward years. She’d dyed her hair blood-red in an attempt to fit in with the goth crowd. The light skin, freckles, and crystal-blue eyes, however, prevented Jenny from being accepted by anyone other than the geeky kids who sat at the back of every class.
“Who can solve this equation?” The plump woman at the front of the room had chalk dust on her forehead. Jenny had focused so much on the cosmetic faux pas that she’d missed that the woman’s wandering eyes had settled on the back corner of the class.
The nerd behind Jenny intercepted the teacher’s zeroing-in stare. “I can do it, Miss Arnold.”
Jenny bent her head over her shoulder. “Thanks,” she whispered as the boy got out of his chair.
Shit. That’s Henry. Sere’s shared memories of the high school nerd wouldn’t fully form for another few years. Apparently, he’d been watching out for Jenny longer than she’d realized.
Curiosity got the better of Sere. She sped forward to the fateful high school football game. Jenny—now Jennifer, who’d changed her name to command the respect of the cheerleading squad—had filled out enough to attract the eye of any red-blooded high school jock. Not that it was all that difficult. She relished having broken out of her awkward phase. The budding woman’s memories of boyfriends were like a dropped collection of trading cards. Faces and cocks outweighed dates and deeds. Only by turning the card over could Sere get some hint regarding how the testosterone-driven apes had treated Jennifer.
As if Sere’s curiosity had somehow traveled back in time and out of the computer, Jennifer messed up her midair routine and came crashing down on her ankle. The snap seemed to fill the stadium. The rest of the squad stood, dumbstruck, fearful that the broken bone might be contagious. Even the jocks remained in their huddle. Though Sere doubted the memory was completely accurate, she couldn’t help getting caught up in it.
Jennifer looked up at the stands, hoping for some authority figure to save the day. Instead, it was the nerdy kid with slicked-back hair, dorky glasses, and a bow tie who vaulted over the student body sitting in the bleachers. “Try not to move. I’ve got you. I’m not leaving your side.”
And he never did. From that moment, Jennifer gave up jocks like an alcoholic who’d found religion—only in her case, it was lust being overwritten by love. Though no one else noticed it that day, or really any day after that, Jennifer saw the superhero under Henry’s nerdy persona.
The next memory came on so fast it was like their entire courtship had happened in the blink of an eye. “Till death do us part.” Jennifer held Henry’s hands and gazed with tear-filled eyes into his. In his wedding tuxedo, the boy who was now a man looked as close to his superhero secret identity as Jennifer could imagine. Though still the biggest nerd she knew, he’d spent enough evenings in the gym after classes in corporate law to fill out the tux the way the designer must have intended.
Sere pulled back on the professor’s projection to get a look at wedding-day Jennifer. Good lord, woman, how long did it take to get your hair to behave? Part of Sere’s desire to keep her hair short stemmed from the never-ending need to be prepared for battle, but what she didn’t want others to see was what a rats nest it would become if allowed to grow past her shoulders. Jennifer’s wedding coif cascaded in waves and ringlets all the way down to her waist like a waterfall of fire. Her body displayed more curves than Sere remembered.
She backtracked to the professor’s archive of projections. A solid nine months, including the wedding date, had been kept from hell’s projection.
Though the calendar might have forced the decision, nothing in Jennifer’s emotions betrayed anything but complete love. Jennifer hugged her new husband so tightly that the bridal gown crinkled. “I’m pregnant,” she whispered in his ear.
His return hug intensified, making it hard for her to breathe. “You just had to go and make the most wonderful day of my life even better.” His voice quivered so hard that Jennifer wondered if he’d be able to hold it together through the reception.
Sere felt bad for intruding on the tender moment. Though she inhabited the body double, she wasn’t sure the real Jennifer would appreciate having all of her secrets divulged. Fuck it. If it comes up, I’ll just explain that when I was part of the computer, her history was automatically downloaded into my brain.
The memory reel spun to nearly nine months later. Jennifer lay in the unbelievably undignified position of feet in the air, gown raised above her waist in the small hospital room. Far too many people were staring at her. She was screaming like a banshee. “Get this fucking parasite out of me! You’re never depositing another drop of that demon sperm into my happy place again, mister.” The woman gripped her husband’s hand so hard his fingers crossed over each other.
Sere had no problem with swearing, but she’d always believed her rich vocabulary stemmed from her time in hell. Jennifer’s motherly love must have started sometime after delivery. At least the professor had spared Sere that experience. As she thought about it, she realized that Bobby, Jennifer’s impending son, didn’t have a double in hell.
The next few years unwound smoothly from the memory reel. Bobby grew into a mischievous boy who owned his mother’s heart nearly as fully as her husband did. Jennifer settled into a life she had originally feared—that of suburban wife and mother. Though she still had fantasies of slaying dragons, commanding a pirate ship, and ruling over an army of devoted male warriors available for her sexual pleasure, her days of making a comfortable home for her family outweighed her lust for adventure. That was, until she learned that she had a badass devil-killing double who had inherited hell.
What surprised Sere most about the sight of Jennifer standing in the shadows outside the Scratchy Dog was how frightened she was. Fear had always been a constant companion for Sere, kind of like heartburn. So long as it was managed, it could be a useful indicator of how much trouble she’d gotten into. For Jennifer, however, the paralyzing emotion had only really made itself known when Bobby went missing. That night of absolute terror had led to the woman standing resolutely off Frenchmen Street, waiting for the apparition she didn’t fully believe existed.
“Sere.” The voice sounded like Jennifer.
Sere turned away from the bank of memories. “I hope someone out there has made some progress.”
“I suppose that depends on your definition of progress,” Doodlebug said.
Sere switched on every camera in the office but didn’t see Jennifer on any of them. “Please tell me you aren’t in hell.”
“Not yet. I’m in the swamp with Chloe.”
Sere checked every piece of the computer she could lock her spirit onto. “How are we communicating? That swamp witch hasn’t turned you into a ghost, has she? Because one of us disconnected from her body is more than enough.”
“It’s called a cell phone. You should be familiar with it as it’s yours,” Jennifer said. As they shared the same voice, it was all too easy for Sere to make out the woman’s snarky attitude. “Bart brought it out to the swamp. You weren’t supposed to leave it in your saddlebags.”
Sere worked at calming her nerves. “I didn’t think there’d be anyone I wanted to call in Marjory’s stronghold. This time spent in the professor’s computer isn’t doing much for my technophobia. What plan have the witches devised this time?”
“I could bore you with the specifics, but I’m not sure you’d listen. The bottom line is Chloe believes she can connect our souls over the professor’s souped-up cell phone. That should get the Cormorant’s attention. Once she starts pulling, Sanguine will quickly open and close the hellmouth so you can cross over. With a witch at each side of the gate, they can make sure nothing moves between dimensions that shouldn’t.”
Not this again. Sere had already struggled to get Jennifer out of hell once. “I’m going to stop you right there. I need to go alone.”
“And do what?” Bart’s husky voice blared over the connection. “You’ll still be stuck in the computer. You don’t have a body, and I don’t see your father around to steal you another one. You and Jennifer have already proved that one of you can act as bodily anchor while the other tags along as a ghost.”
She suspected he was intentionally drawing her anger so Jennifer wouldn’t receive her demon glare. “That’s a low blow, mister.”
“I’m just saying, even if Sanguine could get you out of the hardware, you’d just be a ghost in hell, destined to evaporate into nothingness.”
Even if Sere hadn’t just witnessed a lifetime of memories that bonded her to her real more than she thought possible, she still wouldn’t have allowed Jennifer to risk her soul a second time. Jennifer didn’t always see it, but Henry and Bobby relied on her completely. “Tell Chloe she and Sanguine need to figure out something else, because if it comes down to my immortal existence or Jennifer’s soul, I’m out.”
“You can be the most pigheaded doppelidiot ever released from hell,” Jennifer yelled. “I have a say in my own life, you know. It’s not just your precious existence either. You may not have that much invested in the living, but I do. If you think I’m going to sit by while hell takes over the world that Bobby is going to have to live in, you’ve lost your fucking doppelbrain.”
From the cameras in the professor’s office, Sere could see that not a single person moved toward the microphone. They remained as silent as the people on the other end of the cell connection. “Good thing you never chastised Bobby about using such language. Hell wouldn’t be much fun devoid of curse words.” Sere hadn’t meant to express the thought, but the computer wasn’t much good at understanding when she wanted to keep her words to herself.
Doodlebug gave a girlish laugh that failed to cut the tension. “Now that you’ve all shut your faces for a moment, maybe I can offer some advice. After all, I am the only one who’s been a ghost in the professor’s hell hardware, and I’ve seen Aloysius’s soul get yanked out of the equipment.”
“That was different,” Sere said. “You still had your doppelgänger body. As for your time in the hardware, it was as part of Marjory’s bridge of the damned. You weren’t stuck there like I would be. Not that it matters. Following Chloe’s recommendation would mean dropping Jennifer in hell without either of us physically there to protect her. You’ve seen her. She’s no warrior.”
“Hey, I’m on your side on this one,” the girl said. “I was there. Neither one of you would have gotten out without my help. I’m just saying, when it comes to figuring something out, I do have some experience in these things.”
“How about this,” Jennifer said. “So long as you and I aren’t physically and psychically bonded, the Cormorant can’t pull me into hell unless I agree to go. She’ll sense that we’re together, but with you in the computer, when she pulls on the line, you’ll just slip right across. This way, I’ll be here to reel you back in when the time comes.”
Sere finally found the phone’s connection to the lab and activated the camera. Chloe sat in her chair with Midnight at her side—Doodlebug on the floor, petting the great cat at Chloe’s feet—while Bart paced the half dozen steps from one side of the hovel to the other. Only Jennifer remained focused on the phone.
“I can see you’ve thought this through. Have you all been planning this attack?” Sere asked.
Bart stopped his pacing. “Like it or not, you need our help. Simply having Sanguine open the portal won’t allow you to slip into hell, and once you’re there, you’re going to need to do more than just haunt our enemies.”
Sere eased back into the computer software. “Okay. So the first job—which I do not like but have to agree with—is Jennifer connects to me while Sanguine opens the gate.”
Bart took his hand from his chin. “What do you need? What’s the plan for when you’re in hell?”
“I need to get to Madam Laroque. She’s the only one our Marjory in life can rely on.”
He nodded as he put his hands in his back pockets. “The Cormorant is the only power in hell that can rival Madam Laroque. With any luck, Sanguine can play middle angel in that negotiation. But you still won’t have a body. That’s the real issue, isn’t it?”
“Doesn’t Sanguine have the baron’s old vault?” Doodlebug asked.
Bart aimed his finger at the girl. “True. She might be able to put Sere into another body the way the baron did so many years ago, but we don’t have his journals, and with the doppelgängers achieving consciousness, we can’t see them as vacant vessels.”
“Even if it was only temporary?” Polly sat next to the professor in the lab, doodling her thoughts on the ever-present pad of paper.
“Too many complications,” the professor said. “We’d need the doppelgänger’s acceptance, and even then, we don’t know how to make the transfer—unless someone wants to break into the bank and steal the baron’s old journals.”
“We don’t have to.” Sere turned her attention away from the computers. “Marjory is inside my body. I can’t force her to do anything, but I can put the seeds of doubt in my brain. That might be enough for her to rummage through the journals again just for peace of mind.”
“One problem down,” Bart said. “Now, about that body.”
Doodlebug bit her lip as she turned to Chloe. “Where’s Bernie?”
“Now you’re talking.” The swamp witch kicked the great cat off her feet. “Go find Bernie, Midnight, and be quick about it.” Chloe headed to the door. The moment she opened it, the panther darted outside and was lost to the moonlight shadows.
Doodlebug seemed to have trouble looking into the phone. “I’d offer to go with you—”
Sere didn’t need the half-hearted offer. “You’re out of hell. That was our agreement. I may have a human soul, but I’ve lived the doppelgänger life for too long to play games with the truth. If you were to return to hell, I couldn’t guarantee that you could leave again. I’m not asking anyone to risk their existence on my behalf—not again.”
“I’m coming with you.” Bart’s cold analytical tone as he held the cell phone to his face didn’t leave room for argument.
Sere had anticipated his demand, though she feared her argument might sound more emotional than logical. “Even if I agreed, which I do not, I need you here in life as my lifeline. You know that.”
“Nice try.” He kept his voice down as if unsure he wanted the others to hear. “Jennifer just offered to risk everything she is to help you, and you just protected her like a mother lion. She said she can act as your connection to this reality, and if for some reason that doesn’t work, I can come back through the hellmouth first then pull your soul across.”
