Chapter 2 Chase
Chase
As I blearily opened my eyes, my bedroom ceiling melted into view.
I groaned. My body was sore all over. I felt like I’d been hit by a truck.
Happy fucking birthday, here’s some aches and pains.
Then the memories from last night crept back.
The birthday party. Jared’s house. Hot Stranger.
Heat flooded my cheeks. Instantly, I felt alert and wired. And upon the mental image of Hot Stranger, a little hard.
But then I remembered the poor betta fish.
Gasping, I leapt out of bed. What happened to him? Was he safe? I couldn’t remember anything after that weird pulsing black energy shot out from Jared’s book... the book that Hot Stranger was so insistent I snatched away.
But I didn’t care about that. I needed to know the poor animal was okay.
Groaning, I rubbed a hand through my bedhead. I had a vague memory of Hot Stranger running towards me, his hand outstretched in concern. Had he taken the cup from me and kept the fish safe? I hoped so.
My gaze slid over to my twenty-gallon aquarium, sitting pretty on a stand in the corner of my bedroom.
Its only resident was my red betta, Demetrius, and his underwater forest of live plants.
It was only fair he lived like a king after his rough start in life.
Last winter, I found him abandoned in a parking lot.
Bettas were tropical fish. If I hadn’t spotted his cup sitting on the snow-dusted asphalt, he would’ve been a goner.
A fresh wave of anger constricted my stomach when I remembered Jared’s bullshit last night. What the fuck was he thinking trying to ‘sacrifice’ an innocent fish for some stupid prank? I really should’ve kicked him in the nuts.
As I grew more lucid, I started to worry. Somebody brought me home last night. The only person who saw me pass out—and was sober enough to do anything about it—was Hot Stranger. I flushed briefly as I imagined him picking me up and calling an Uber.
Had he come home with me? Was he in my apartment last night?
The idea made me horny for a split second before a different train of thought made my stomach lurch in fear.
How much did Hot Stranger know about bettas? If he carried me home and brought the blue betta with him, could he have mistakenly placed the fish inside the aquarium with Demetrius?
Male bettas were territorial as hell. It would’ve been a bloodbath.
But as Demetrius swam up to the glass to greet me, I saw he was alone and there was no evidence of a fight. I breathed a sigh of relief.
“Hey, bud,” I said.
I grabbed his bottle of predator bites and tipped in a few pellets. Demetrius raced after them like a dog chasing a tennis ball, his long tail flowing behind him. I’d never get tired of watching him.
“You’re lucky you didn’t have to go to that party,” I complained.
Demetrius wolfed down his pellets, then looked up at me, his eyes hungry for more.
“Oh, was the party really that bad, darling? You got to make out with a hot guy.”
A startled shout escaped me. I stumbled backwards, nearly tripping on the carpet. The bottle of predator bites flew from my hand and rolled across the floor.
What the actual fuck was that?
My heart raced as adrenaline coursed through my veins. I narrowed my eyes at my fish.
“Demetrius...? Is that you?” I asked.
“Ha! You wish.”
I spun around. The room was empty. It was only me and Demetrius.
And this sudden, random voice.
“Who’s talking?” I demanded.
“Me, darling. Isn’t it obvious?”
I spun around so violently that the momentum knocked me over. I grunted, landing on all fours like a chimp. My palms were clammy and my nerves were frazzled.
Then my gaze pinned on the one place I hadn’t checked—my closet.
Snarling, I leapt to my feet and readied myself for a fight. Maybe I’d get to kick somebody in the balls after all.
“Good thinking. I’m definitely hiding in the closet.”
I ignored the annoying voice, readied my fist, and threw the closet door open.
It was empty. Just clothes, a handful of heavy dumbbells, and spare aquarium supplies. Nobody was inside.
“Too bad, Chase. Ooh, try checking under the bed now.”
“How do you know my name?” I snapped.
I ducked to peer under the mattress. Aside from dust bunnies and a men’s magazine, it was empty.
I was seriously confused. The voice was too close to be anywhere except the bedroom. But just in case, I darted into my living room. Nothing. I checked the bathroom and kitchen only to find them empty, too.
Now I was starting to get freaked out.
“Can you go back to the kitchen?” the voice asked excitedly. “I saw a slice of cake there.”
“Where are you? Who are you?” I demanded.
“Could you ask a more original question? Honestly, that’s so cliche.”
I bristled. Not only was this weird voice intruding in my home, now it was insulting me, too.
“How about you show yourself before I call the cops?” I retorted.
“Darling, they won’t accomplish anything,” the voice stated. As if from experience. “Hmm... How about we make a deal? I’ll show myself on one condition. You go to the kitchen afterwards and check out that cake.”
Was this fucker hiding behind the shower curtain? Or contorted in my cabinet somehow?
“Sure, whatever,” I muttered, stomping to the bathroom.
I yanked the shower curtain aside to find it empty. So was the cabinet.
“Yes, very good and thorough. Now look in the mirror,” the voice instructed.
Being told what to do was annoying, but my curiosity won out. I lifted my gaze to my own reflection. My blond hair was messy and I looked wiped from my hectic birthday party, but otherwise I looked normal.
“Is this a joke?” I asked, increasingly irritated. “That’s me, asshole.”
“Badness gracious, so much attitude! You really need some cake, Chase. Cake is scientifically proven to boost your mood.”
Instinctively, I punched my mirror. Like they did in movies.
“Ow!”
Not only did it hurt like a bitch, but it didn’t even shatter my reflection in a cool, cinematic way. That was probably a good thing. I didn’t need a busted mirror on top of a mysterious voice.
The voice was unperturbed by my violent outburst. “Very macho. Can we eat cake now?”
“Who is we?” I yelled. “Come out of wherever the hell you’re hiding now!”
The voice sighed. “Chase, I know you’re a big strong jock, but you’re smarter than this. Can you try rubbing two brain cells together for me? Pretty please?”
My fists curled at his audacity. Who was this pretentious prick? How dare he break into my house, insult me, and boss me around? As if last night’s party wasn’t bad enough, now I had to deal with this shit, too?
Then I paused.
Did Jared’s ritual have anything to do with this?
“Now you’re on the right track, darling,” the voice chimed.
I jolted as if stung by a wasp. The voice just replied to my thoughts—not something I’d said out loud.
Could he read my thoughts?
Dread washed over me.
“Oh, fuck,” I muttered.
“Yay, we’re getting somewhere!”
“Shut up,” I said offhandedly, then paced into the living room.
“Well, that was rude.”
I ignored him. If it was a him. He sounded like a typical flamboyant gay dude, so that’s the pronoun I was sticking with for now.
“Yes, sweetie, I am definitely a him. Though I appreciate your willingness to change your mind.”
I grunted in frustration. “Just—be quiet for a second, I’m trying to think!”
The voice was in my head. It had to be. It was too close, too... intimate. And not in a fun way.
I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to remember last night in better detail. A sinking feeling pooled in my stomach when I recalled the blackness that erupted from Jared’s book. The book that Hot Stranger was so intense about acquiring. The one he’d insisted was a matter of life or death.
I suddenly felt very stupid for not taking Hot Stranger seriously.
Raising my palms, I groaned loudly into them. What kind of shit-pile did I just step into?
The voice cleared his throat. “I’ve been quiet for two minutes. Now can we eat cake?”
Growling, I held up my fist as if confronting a physical entity. “Hey, asshole, you lied to me. You said you’d show yourself, but all you did was make me look at my reflection.”
“My name is not Asshole, although that is a common name where I’m from,” the voice mused.
My eye twitched. Obviously, I wouldn’t get anywhere by arguing with him. I forced myself to play along. For now.
“Fine,” I ground out. “What’s your name?”
“Faust XIV. That’s the number fourteen, if you couldn’t figure that out.”
“How dumb do you think I am?”
“I’m still making up my mind, darling. Now go back to the mirror.”
Resisting the urge to talk back, I trudged into the bathroom. The mirror showed my reflection, the same as before, although my eye kept twitching from irritation.
But all of a sudden, I wasn’t alone.
My blood ran cold as a second figure manifested beside my reflection. The first thing I noticed was his purple skin.
Purple.
To match his skin tone, he had flowing purple hair, plus a pair of spiralling two-tone horns that jutted from his forehead. He had a long, pointy nose. Small bat wings flapped lazily behind him, and he sported a thin tail that culminated in a devilish spade.
He wasn’t really a man. Because he wasn’t human.
There was no doubt in my mind that I was looking at a demon.
I gawked at the... thing in the mirror.
“Okay, now I know those dickheads laced my booze with some delayed-acting shit,” I grumbled.
Faust scoffed, flicking the tip of his tail. “Oh, please. We both know you’re stone-cold sober. Besides, little Jared wouldn’t know where to buy good hallucinogens if his life depended on it.”
I stared at Faust in the mirror. Our eyes met.
It was weird.
It was fucking weird to see a demon standing beside my reflection, acting like a real, living thing.
“I can read your thoughts, Chase,” Faust chided, though he looked as amused as ever. “I am a real, living thing, whether you like it or not.”
“You’re alive? Does that mean you can die?” I asked from simple curiosity.