Date With Destiny Demon Style Ch 10

Final chapter! Thanks so much for the comments you gave me. And for the patience it requires to wait for this (sorry about the wait...finals week is known as 'hell week' for a reason)!

I appreciate all the support and encouragement I have gotten over these last few months. Once again, thanks so much for taking the time to read my stuff! You guys are awesome!

* * *

Kara's eyes fluttered open. A blinding white blurred her vision, making sight impossible without squinting. Slowly, her eyes adjusted to the empty paleness. She was laying on her back on a floor the same sterile color as the world around her.

What the fuck?

Groaning, she pushed herself up and onto her knees. She felt ridges under her hands, like grout line in tile, but she saw no traces of edges or any other coloring that would betray the presence of tile. Still reeling from her fight with Emiline, she scanned her new environment, frightened by the lack of color.

White all around her, as far as she could see. Creepy.

Was this Heaven? No, it couldn't be. There was no one here except her. No singing angels, no fluffy clouds, no happy little flying souls with harps and shit. Just her and endless whiteness. A shiver ran down her spine. This place freaked her out more than anything. She'd always hated pure white rooms; they made her feel like she was in a laboratory, like she was in a sterile room everything was unnaturally clean. The lack of life in this place only made it creepier.

Distant footsteps startled her. Whipping around, she scanned the emptiness for any sign of her company, but she saw nothing. The footsteps grew louder, seeming to come from every direction. She shot up and spun in circles, trying to locate the source of the steps. Still nothing. This must be an illusion, some sick joke being played one her. Maybe Lucifer had pulled another one of his tricks and had trapped her in some deep corner of Hell. Maybe she was asleep. Maybe she was going insane.

"Kara." Her mother's voice, soft and soothing, drifted into the air.

She stopped, her blood running cold. No, it couldn't be. That was impossible. Her mother had been dead for years. She'd heard Emiline laughing about it.

Impossible.

Shaking, she turned slowly, her heart racing. Her breath caught in her throat. Her mother stood no more than ten feet in front of her. Dressed in nothing more that a white Grecian robe, her mother made her way towards her, taking delicate steps along the invisible floor. Her bright green eyes smiled at her, glinting in unseen light. High cheekbones and a straight nose solidified their connection as mother and daughter. Warm, chocolate brown hair was twisted into a simple braid that hung over her shoulder. Her grin was welcoming and genuine, filled with all the love and joy a mother should have for her child. Her feet we bare, walking on the same invisible tile Kara had felt when she had first arrived here.

"Mama?" Her voice cracked and tears welled in her eyes.

Her mother's smile grew wider as she nodded.

Her fear crumbling, she let her emotions run wild. Joy, sorrow and confusion coalesced into an unbearable weight that crushed down on her heart. With tears streaming from her eyes, Kara rushed at her mother, crying out for her like a small child.

They collided, a tangled mess of tears and cries of happiness. They sank to the ground, their arms wrapped around each other. She buried her face in the soft fabric of her mother's dress, heartbreakingly happy to see her mother for the first time in eight years. Her mother held her close, running cold fingers through her hair.

"Oh, sweetheart." Her mother cooed in her ear. "It's all right."

She sobbed into her mother's shoulder, eight long years of fear and frustration finally bursting forth. She was exhausted, elated and miserable all at once. But that was okay. Her mother was here now; the real, honest, loving mother she had always known. Not some greedy imposter. No, this was her

real

mother.

"Sweetie girl. It's okay. I'm right here."

Her sobs slowing, Kara pulled away, wiping her face clean of tears. She probably looked horrible. Red eyes and shiny skin, no doubt. Getting her emotions under control for now, she took a deep breath and faced her mother for the first time in nearly a decade.

"Mama...where are we?"

Her mother's smile turned sad. "Where do you think?"

She sighed and shook her head. "I don't know. Am I dead?"

Her mother dropped her head and looked away.

"Oh. I see." Despite her lackluster response, Kara felt no sense of anger or fear at her mother's reaction. Telling your child they'd died probably wasn't the easiest thing to do.

Depression crushed down on her. Dead, huh? That meant that her body was still in Hell with Darian and the others. Shit, they must be feeling horrible. Seeing the woman you're vying for lying dead on the ground probably took a good shot to their hearts. Hell, it might have toned down Lyzander's ego a bit. Still, she couldn't fault them for being who they were. They'd loved her and protected her. Now they'd lost her.

Her mother finally looked at her again. "Kara, honey, I -"

She looked around at their blank surroundings. "You know, it's not as bad as I thought it was going to be. I was expecting some giant cloaked skeleton with a scythe whisking me away and dropping me into a fire pit."

Her mother shifted uncomfortably.

Kara cocked her head. "What?"

"Well, with the exception of the fiery pit..." Her mother chewed her lip nervously, solidifying Kara's assumption that her own habit was, in fact, a genetic thing.

Seriously?" Kara stared at her mother. "Why don't I remember Bone Daddy taking me away?"

Relieved that her daughter was so relaxed about the subject, her mother exhaled loudly. "Sometimes, when Death feels something shouldn't be permanent just yet, it erases its image from your mind."

"Not permanent? So...I'm not

supposed

to be dead?" She gaped at her mother, her eyes wild.

"Well, not quite. Your death was self-induced and before your scheduled time. A bit like a suicide. Granted, you didn't

mean

to kill yourself, but you caused your own death before Death itself had planned to collect you."

"Okay..." she made a 'continue' motion with her hand.

Her mother sighed, but continued. "You've been given another chance, Kara. Something Death doesn't do very often."

"What kind of chance?" She felt herself leaning forward, eager to hear the news.

"If someone dies before their arranged time, and Death feels they still have a purpose or a use it the living world, then Death gives that person the choice to either stay dead and move onto their predetermined destination."

"

Or?"

Her agitation spiked. She'd always know her mother to be dramatic, but this was just annoying.

Stop dancing around the issue!

"Or they could choose to go back to the living world and live out their lives until Death was supposed to collect them."

Kara sat back, stunned. She could go back? She didn't have to stay here? Shock steamrolled her mind. She could go back! She didn't have to abandon Darian or the others! Holy shit! She could go back, settle any broken hearts, and deal with Lucifer. And take a shower! Dear God,

a shower!

That thought alone sealed her decision.

"But, if you'd like to stay here..." Her mother's eyes were wide, hopeful.

Damn it.

Her face fell, guilt replacing the joy in her heart. As much as she wanted to get back to her lovers, her heart ached to leave her mother here alone. She hadn't seen her in almost ten years and now, after only a few moments of talking, she'd decided to leave her alone? That certainly qualified her as a candidate for Daughter of the Year, didn't it? For an instant, she honestly considered toying with her mother, to spend eternity with the woman who had lover her from the very start.

No, she had to go. There were three princes -- and one very deceitful demon king -- who needed her now. There was also a whole shitload of crap to be dealt with, like which prince she was going to pick as her husband and how she was going to get out of marrying Lucifer.

Smiling sadly, she shook her head. "No, mama. I have to go. There are people who need me back there, and I can't leave them behind. I'd never forgive myself."

Sadness, then understanding, flicked through her mother's eyes. She nodded slowly. "I understand." She looked off into the distance, smiling. "They love you, you know that? They all do."

"Yeah. But I'm not sure I love

all

of them."

Her mother laughed softly. "Yes, Lucifer can be quite a handful. That little stunt he pulled surprised even me." Her eyes slid to her daughter, bright and knowing. "But I'm sure

you

can find a way out of this."

"Oh, trust me. I'll bite my way out of that proposal if I have to." She crossed her arms over her chest and scowled at the empty air.

"I'm sure. You have the stubbornness as your father."

Kara smiled. "I do not!"

Her mother howled with laughter for a moment before sitting up and drying her eyes. She turned to face her, cupping her daughter's face in her warm hands. "You are sure you want to go back."

Kara smiled and nodded. "I have to. I can't leave them behind."

Her mother smiled back. "And you get your kindness from me."

Giggling, Kara leaned close and gave her mother what she was sure was their last hug. The last time they would see or speak to each other. Tears welled in her eyes and she squeezed them shut, but they were tears of happiness. At least here, her mother was safe. No evil succubae to run her off the road, no evil demon sons to chase her down. Just mother and daughter embracing one more time.

"Your father and I are so proud of you." Her mother's voice was a whisper in her ear.

Smiling, she opened her eyes. Her arms wrapped around empty air, the endless white her only company once more. Heartbroken but warm inside, she sat back on her heels and scanned the vast expanse of space, looking for a blaring 'EXIT' sign or a staircase that lead back to Hell. Nothing. The world around her was as blank as before.

Well that's just fabulous. How the hell do I get back?

"You have made you choice then?" A deep voice, dry as desert sand and sweet as honey, drifted into the empty air.

Kara straightened her spine. Being here in this empty space of the afterlife meant her new guest could only be one person. Or thing. As fearful as she was, she didn't want to be rude to her new companion, so she nodded in response.

"Face me, child."

Heart racing and blood thundering in her ears, she swallowed and closed her eyes. Taking a deep breath, she turned around to face her colleague, her eyes still closed out of fear.

"I SAID FACE ME!"

Her eyes snapped open. She cried out and scrambled backwards in horror. Death was exactly as she'd imagined it: skeletal, cloaked and very mean-looking. Its face -- or whatever

face

Death had -- was hidden by the hood of its night black cloak. But what she could see of the specter was an exact replica of the Middle Ages paintings. Long arms, made of nothing but bone, extended from the sleeves of its rippling cloak. Gripped in one skeletal hand, a staff nearly seven feet long with a curved blade rested on the shoulder of Death. It, too, was made of bones. Human bones.

Holy motherfucking shit.

"Stand."

She remained frozen for an instant, too frightened to move. The bone fingers tapped against the staff impatiently. Clearly, this was not a good time for her to procrastinate. Death was known for being less than kind to loiterers when it came to keeping a schedule. Forcing her body to move, she slowly managed to rise to her feet. She stood at attention, heat racing and fear roiling through her veins.

"You have made a choice, then?" Speaking through the darkness that hid its mouth, Death's voice was low and melodic. Rich and decadent, like warm honey drizzled over cheesecake. Deceptively alluring for a creature so ominous.

Still terrified out of her wits -- she wouldn't be surprised if her hair had turned white out of shock -- she nodded vigorously.

"And?"

She stayed fixed for a moment, too frightened and stunned to speak.

Death leaned close to her, the folds of its cloak swaying with the movement. "Speak you decision now, girl, or I will make it for you. And my verdicts are not as indulgent as those of your God or the Devil you have become so close to." Its breath brushed against her face, a mixture of sweet summer air and garlic.

"I-I..." It was an effort to breath in front of such a powerful figure. "I decided to go back."

Death remained silent for a moment, making Kara's spine twitch in fear. In her mind, Death was the most powerful figure imaginable. Emotionless and calculating, it wandered the world collecting souls, not caring who they were or where they went. Death ruled all: tree to human, fish to gods. Because of Death, the ancient deities of the Greeks and Romans were gone, killed off by their worshipers' lack of faith. If gods could die, then even she as a demon princess was nothing.

"Very well, then." Lifting the tip of its bladed staff, Death tapped the white floor. A hollow sound resounded around them, deafening in its volume.

A roar followed, a deafening rumble that drowned her thoughts. An instant later, tongues of crimson flame burst from beneath her, wrapping around her arms and holding tight. Startled more than frightened, she relaxed slightly as she watched the fire she controlled stroke her skin.

"It will be in the fires by which you live that you leave this place." Death waved a bony hand at her. "Go now, and enjoy what time you have left. I will collect you soon enough."

Her head snapped up. "Soon enough? When the fuck will that be?"

"Foolish girl. I cannot reveal your time of termination. If I did such, you would do everything in your power to rob me of my prize."

She shook her head. "I wouldn't! I promise!"

"Not that it would matter. No creature, try as they might, can escape my grasp. All living things must fall to me. Even Lucifer himself will eventually fall to me. That is the way the universe --

my

universe -- works."

Though she couldn't see into the darkness that hid Death's face, Kara could swear death was smiling.

No shit. That thing is a skeleton! It's always smiling!

"But until then -- and your death will not happen for a very long time -- you are free to return."

The flames that had wrapped around her started to pull her down. The floor, once solid, became soft and malleable like a pool of quicksand. She sank slowly, not fighting the flames that held her but fearing what was waiting for her once they pulled her under. She looked back one last time at the skeletal figure watching her. Death stood back, observing her as she slowly disappeared into the nothingness.

"Fear not, my dear. You and I will meet again."

The tongues gave one last pull and yanked her into not endless white, but black.

* * *

Eyes squeezed shut in fear and gasping for breath, she thrashed around in her bed, sending pillows and blankets flying across the room. After minutes of no resistance, she risked cracking one eye open. She was back in her room, splayed out on her bed and breathing harshly. She swallowed, closing her eyes to calm herself. She was back, thank God. She was now certain she didn't want to stay dead. Death was scarier than Hell itself.

Okay, so she was safe. Now what? Lying back down in her destroyed bed, she took a deep breath and calmed her heart rate. Unsure of her next move, she relaxed her body into the soft mattress and let her instincts guide her. Always far more in tune with what her body needed than most people were, Kara could tell from the slightest change in her core that her body needed something.

Right now, her body was begging -- screaming, really -- for a bath.

She opened her eyes and pushed herself up, swinging her legs over the edge. She reveled in the familiar feeling of warm, smooth tile on her toes. Smiling, she dropped down onto the floor and made her way to her bathroom. Opening the door, she turned and quietly closed it. The last thing she needed was for anyone to come rushing in and interrupting her well-deserved bath.

She turned and admired her shower again. The four gold-lined glass panels were still the same, depicting the elements of life in glistening perfection. She practically skipped toward the glass enclosure, stopping just short of the shower to let the panels slide open again. The soft grating of metal on tile made her wince, but compared to the shit she'd been through already, it was a welcome sound.

She stepped through one opening and stood under the cluster of small holes in the ceiling as the panels slid back into place. Immediately, warm water poured from the ceiling, making her sigh in relief. It had been days since she'd had a decent shower, and the feeling of hot water raining down on her flesh was delicious. She stood there for a moment, her face upturned to the comforting spray. She left the water wash away the anguish and pain and anger that she'd felt for the last week. She felt the layers of crap that had built up sloughing off her soul, cleansing her heart.

She opened her eyes, aware of her body's demands again. She stared up at the small holes in the ceiling, willing for them to send something --

anything

- to help scrub away the more visible filth on her skin.

Learning her lesson from the first time, she quickly ducked her head as the water changed from clear to cloudy. A faint scent of lemon drifted into the air, bringing a distant memory of her mother's famous lemon-crusted chicken into her mind. She smiled sadly as she began to systematically scrub every inch of her body. She washed and rinsed multiple times, frantically wishing that the soap would was away the scars on her soul as well.

Finally clean after an hour, she stepped out of the glass box and across the floor, watching as the small drops of water the fell from her skin were absorbed into the tile. The feel of smooth tile beneath her feet made her feel safe. Almost at home, though no amount of luxury could compare with her own bed. Fat chance of sleeping there again.

She walked back into her bedchamber and made her way towards the ornate dresser. Quietly, she pulled open all of the drawers, rummaging through the mounds of lingerie and robes, tossing useable pieces of clothing onto her bed. After building a sizeable pile, she closed the drawers of the dresser and walked over to her bed, sorting out the pieces until she found a worn pair of jeans, a matching set of blue and red polka-dot panties and bra, and a black V-neck shirt with an image of the Grim Reaper embroidered on it.

Umm...no.

She shivered slightly and tossed the shirt to the side, picking out another with a Green Day logo. She pulled her clothes on, loving the feel of fresh denim against her skin. Fully dressed, she felt somewhat like herself again, though not completely. She'd killed for the first time in her life and died once already. In her heart, Kara knew here was no way in Heaven or Hell that she'd ever be the old cheerful, happy child she was years ago.

She'd still be the sarcastic, loving, ass-kicking demon child, though. Which was way more fun to be, anyway.

Taking a deep breath, she quietly made her way over to her bedroom door. Pausing on instinct, she leaned close and closed her eyes, pressing her ear against the smooth wood.

"And what the fuck do you suggest we do?" Darian's voice was a harsh whisper.

"I don't know! I don't see you coming up with any brilliant plans!" Lyzander's voice was hushed as well, but far more agitated.

God, those two were

still

at it. She sighed to herself. Some things here would never change.