Hell On Heels(44)

“How about a little help here,” I snapped.
“I’m not allowed to.” She hesitated, torn by the desire to reveal what she was. She stayed quiet and pouted. She was unhappy with the rules of the game.
“Let me get this straight. . .You’re inside my head. You’re a what, not a who and I have to guess because it’s against the rules for you to tell me.”
“You got it.”
“What will happen if you tell me?” I mean, how bad could it be? Surely no one would know.
“We’d both turn to dust,” she replied.
That was bad.
“Look, if there was any way I could tell you I would. I don’t like these rules either, but I have no desire to test them to see if they’re accurate,” she huffed.
“This sucks,” I said as I sat down next to her. I was no longer afraid. “Can anybody else see you?”#p#分页标题#e#
“Nope.”
“How come Stella could see you?”
“I’m not sure.” Blanche was thoughtful. “Maybe because she loves you so much and knows you so well. Or maybe because she’s young and not yet jaded.”
We sat in silence. I stared at the ceiling and let my mind go blank. Blanche took my hand in hers. Light currents of power traveled from her hand to mine. It was strangely comforting. We lay quietly for a few more minutes. I began to try to piece the puzzle together.
The book was here to guide me—to teach me how to control my Black Magic, or so I thought. Blanche said I was getting warm when I asked her if she was me. She could read my thoughts as if they were hers. She was not a who, she was a what. That one threw me a little. She’d always been with me, but did I create her or did someone else put her in my life? She had always believed in me and given me the strength to make decisions, right or wrong. She never made my decisions for me, nor did she guide me. She was always there for the results. She wasn't my Guardian Angel. Demons didn’t have Angels.
“Sweet Baby Satan, are you my conscience?” I gasped.
“You’re so close.” The tension in her body was palpable. I needed to guess correctly before she imploded.
I sat up and searched her face, and I knew. “You’re my fate.”
Her smile spread slowly and lit up her entire face. “Bingo.”

Chapter 17
 
“Good morning, sunshine,” Janet sang as she whipped up my window shades, temporarily blinding me.
"Get out," I grumbled.
"Why, aren't we a nasty Nellie this morning." She hummed as she poked at me.
“What time is it?’ I groaned, throwing my pillow at her.
“Time to get up, sleepyhead!” She got a running start, tore across my room and took a flying leap onto my bed, successfully bouncing me out of my cozy nest and onto the cold hard floor.
“What in the Hell is wrong with you?” I hissed as I pulled my comforter off the bed and curled into a small ball.
She leaned her head over the side of my bed and got in my face. “You have fight training with Carl.” She grinned and yanked my comforter off of me.
“Holy Hades, you suck,” I moaned as I attempted to crawl under my bed just to get away from her and her upside down face. I was still exhausted from the night before with Blanche. We stayed up most of the night talking. As usual, when she decided we were finished she left. She disappeared and gave me no indication as to when I’d see her again. The rest of my sleepless night was consumed reliving the best night of my life with Hayden. Suffice it to say coherent thought escaped me at the moment.
Janet grabbed my foot and pulled before I could disappear to the relative safety of underneath my bed. Damn her.
“Carl’s going to teach you some moves, then you’ll practice with Myrtle and me.” She straightened out my bed and muttered, “We’re going to kick your ass.”
Now she had my attention. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”
“Carl’s going to teach you some moves.”
“Uh huh.” I narrowed my eyes at her. “And the other part?”
“Oh.” Janet smiled sweetly. “I said we’re going to kick your ass.”
“You’re sure about that?”
“Yep,” she quipped and felt for her missing beard and stache. Her elation died. She deflated like a popped balloon.
“Janet.” I could tell she was close to crying. “Is there a chance you could grow them back?”
“No.” Averting her eyes and trying to hide her tears, she mumbled, “That horrid therapist had the hair removal Demons put a cease and desist spell on my follicles.”
“That’s, well that’s. . .I don’t even know what that is,” I stuttered and tried to make sense of that one. I pondered why or who would create a spell like that. “I’m really sorry, Janet.”