Double Trouble Page 18
My first trip to the museum ended with a deep sense of awe, that I’d somehow created something so beautiful while trapped in a cell, unaware I’d done nothing wrong to deserve my fate. Through my long and slow walk through the gallery, where I faced my memories, Dean stayed by my side.
Angels, devils, and demons alike kept claiming they loved me. The still, quiet, and guiding voice promised I only needed to look at Dean to understand it was possible for someone to love me, a flawed succubus with zero understanding of how to be a good succubus.
My second trip to the museum warned me of life to come. An over-enthusiastic herd of unicorns in their human forms dragged me through every exhibit, studying every last inch of the building preparing to test its security in the hopes of robbing the place blind.
I hadn’t enjoyed that trip as much. My parents had kidnapped Dean, using him to make sure I attended our first family dinner.
In Hell.
With the Devil, his wife, and his spitfire cat of a daughter.
His daughter interested me, as she’d caught herself a stallion, too. Hers was a blue-gray tinged with green, and he liked showing off his teeth, which were meant for tearing through meat. He had a human form, too, and he seemed resigned to his fate when dealing with his father-in-law but so in love with his wife I wondered how I would change if I, too, could be capable of such an emotion.
I wanted to paint the entire lot of them and capture that love somehow, displaying it for the world to see.
The Devil, being the asshole ruler over all other assholes, had exposed my thoughts, resulting in a date to sketch and paint to my heart’s content.
It’d been a rather cordial affair, and I’d learned my mother had waited my entire life for a chance to dress me up as a doll.
To my horror and dismay, I’d liked it. I’d even, under threat of death if she told a soul, tested patting her shoulder. As the display of affection hadn’t killed me, I hugged her.
She’d hugged me back, and she’d rubbed my back like I’d seen people do on television. Afterwards, in the safety of my hotel room, in a gap when Dean and his sister had been stolen for a strategy session, I’d cried for everything I’d lost.
Until then, I hadn’t known I could cry at all.
The third time, I had gone with my parents, who had treated my paintings as priceless treasures they wanted gracing their walls and their walls alone. Dean felt the same way.
In time, my parents would wage war with the unicorn, and I’d be stuck in the middle.
I looked forward to it.
Unfortunately for my parents, I planned to side with the damned unicorn. I’d somewhat adapted to having parents. I’d figured out how to handle hugging someone else without trying to stab them with improvised weapons.
I’d even won the museum curator’s grudging respect, although we developed a love-hate relationship. He wanted to keep my art, but he didn’t want to be haunted by devils, angels, the Devil, and a bunch of nosy, prissy and beautiful unicorns. If I let any of them have their way, I’d be the grand prize of their battle.
With the museum’s blessings, the unicorns schemed and went to work. Either way, the paintings would be given to me. If the herd busted through the museum’s security, the paintings would be paid for in labor, shoring up the building’s defenses against people seeking priceless treasures. If we failed to rob the place, we’d buy them for a sum of ten million dollars.
I really hoped we succeeded at robbing the museum, as Paul’s meddling helped me understand the value of such a number. Apparently, everyone thought I could earn as much or more with new paintings, too.
My artwork had traveled the world, and museums sought exhibits like the one we’d purchase from them.
Until my first visit, I hadn’t known something as fascinating as museums could exist.
My life had changed, and I liked it.
One month and two weeks after my fateful day in court, my misfit family, a herd of unicorns, a pack of angels, and the Devil converged several blocks away from the museum. I had no idea what I was doing with them, but I was dressed head to toe in a dark, matte material. Everyone else wore the same attire, and masks covered our faces, wrapped around our heads, and kept our hair from making an escape.
Hair, during a heist, created trouble. We’d spent an entire three days fighting over the issue of hair, its loss, and the problems hairs posed during an investigation. The first option, met with immediate refusals from the vain unicorns, involved a head-to-toe shave.
Under no circumstances could the beauty of a unicorn be blemished.
If I rolled my eyes any harder, I’d hurt myself.
“Why am I here?” I asked for the third time, not expecting an answer.
Everyone pointed at Dean.
“That’s not an answer. It wasn’t an answer the other two times you idiots pointed at him. You left me at the hotel to do your various scheming other times. Why am I here?”
My mother laughed, and the skin-tight outfit on her redefined scandalous. “You’re here because there’s something you need to see here. If you stayed at the hotel, all you’d see is a news report, which wouldn’t be anywhere as nice as witnessing it for yourself. Relax, darling. Everything will be fine. This is going to be a cakewalk.”
“Why is it going to be a cakewalk? Cakewalks are a lie. I have not yet seen a cakewalk end in cake. Why do you insist on lying to me? Not a single one of your cakewalks has resulted in cake. If you could stop being evasive, I would really appreciate it.”
“Call me Mom or Mother, and I will spill the Devil’s secrets.”
“Hey,” the Devil protested. “That’s not nice.”
“I’m a demon. One of your demons, specifically. Since when was being nice a part of my job description?”
The Devil lashed his tail but kept quiet. His wife’s presence, who also went out of her way to redefine scandalous, had something to do with that.
“She has you there,” the Devil’s wife, the true controller of the many hells and its fiery lord, muttered. She muttered in such a way everyone could hear her without issue and made it clear the Devil had lost yet again.
“I see how it is. Once succubi get together, they live to create trouble for me. Next, you two are going to join forces and try to take over the Earth.” The Devil’s tail stilled, and he stood taller. “Please do, actually. I’d enjoy watching that. Would a little begging help to encourage you ladies?”
Xena snorted. “We’ve been over this before. I’m taking over the Earth, but I could use some good henchwomen. I’ll take good care of them and return them in similar condition.”
Dean and the rest of the unicorns replied, “No.”
“Why are you so mean to me?” Xena complained.
“Focus,” I ordered. “Someone please coherently explain why I am here and not sleeping. I had plans to steal Dean’s blankets tonight. Mine are not warm enough.”
Dean laughed. “If you want to snuggle, all you have to do is pounce or ask. Dragging is also acceptable, as is waggling your finger in invitation. You can even join me on the couch at your whim and take over my lap. I’m easy.”
The unicorn would finish driving me crazier within a week, I’d enjoy it, and I’d make sure I got him and his blanket when I conquered his person. “Focus, Dean. Focus. And for fuck’s sake, someone please tell me why I’m here.”
The Devil snickered, and he gestured in the direction of the museum. “In twenty or so minutes, men in vans will come to the museum and attempt to either retrieve or recover your paintings to make evidence of their wrongdoing appear. We are going to trip the alarm systems as they enter, bar their escape, and prevent them from accessing the exhibit with your paintings. While the police are occupied, we will take advantage of the gap in security to take the paintings. This will uphold our promise to test the museum’s security system, and it’ll allow the unicorns to do what they do best. Protectorate species are so troublesome like that. Those behind the art ring will be arrested fo
r attempted theft, where it will be revealed that the paintings were created through unpaid child labor, which then led to your wrongful confinement as an adult. As you’re a succubus, you would have counted as a child for the first fifty years of your life. The paintings, which will be in our custody per our agreement with the museum, will be lawfully signed over to you. The museum will be compensated in funds claimed from the defendants because it was sold illegal artwork and had no realistic way of knowing the artwork was illegally acquired. After that is settled, you will be able to loan the paintings to museums as exhibits, even including newer pieces you paint as you please. The museum will gain prestige, as it will be able to do a gallery greeting with you, the artist, present for the reveal of the reopened exhibit. This benefits everyone, and you’ll be properly paid for your work.”
I narrowed my eyes and considered how best I could trample, murder, or otherwise mutilate those who’d caused so much suffering. “How many of the art ring will be here?”
“Most of them will be in attendance. They’re very determined to retrieve your paintings. There’s a reason for that. They used stolen works as the foundation for some of your paintings, and this will help draw other parties into the case.” The Devil rubbed his hands together. “Come along, come along. We have a schedule. It wouldn’t do to be late.”
The angels, who wore similar attire and had covered their wings with a black, gauzy material, headed for the museum. Without being able to see their wings and the colorful bands on their feathers, I couldn’t tell who was who. They’d even gone so far as to change their voices to be neutral and lifeless.
Sneaky angels.
“What do you have to say about this?” I asked them, deciding the angels were the safest of my options. Dean, being Dean, stayed close to me.
“I would say it is unfair to abuse our powers in such a fashion, little granddaughter, but He allows it, for He hates when we whine too much about the injustices done to our offspring. Honestly, I’ll enjoy it. There will be a rather sad and bloody accident in the museum as a certain would-be thief impales himself on my sword while running through the halls. It will be a tragedy.”
My grandfather’s eagerness for the kill reminded me angels were not at all like the stories portrayed. Then again, the stories had neglected to mention they lacked heads.
I could only think of one thing to ask my violence-loving grandfather. “And your general enjoyment of permissible violence has nothing to do with this?”
“You have become a sadly responsible and gentle being. Paul, I will beat you for adjusting my granddaughter inappropriately.”
The angel laughed. “I didn’t adjust her inappropriately. I merely coached her on social behaviors she had no opportunity to learn. She is much happier now that she can pounce her stallion without fear of retribution. I’m sure she’ll start seeking you for affection soon enough. My workings were designed to help develop her partnership with her unicorn as a priority. She’s progressing nicely. As she becomes more comfortable with physical interaction, she will seek it more. I’m sure you’ll have your turn soon.”
For fuck’s sake. “Would a hug make you insufferable, hug-happy beings happy?”
“Yes,” everyone chorused.
“I will pay out one hug to all participants if this is finished sooner than later, please and thank you. Also, should you take the heads of those who came up with this plan, I do not want them delivered to me on a platter. I don’t want to see any decapitated heads at all. Keep your murder and mayhem to yourself.”
The Devil, the host of angels, and my father disappeared with a bang loud enough to make my ears ring. Unlike every other time I’d seen someone teleport, there were no lights or stench of brimstone.
My mother laughed. “Now you’ve done it and the rest of us will just have to sit here and wait for the end results. How boring.”
I didn’t want exciting. I didn’t even want the thrill of testing the museum’s alarm system. I wanted the past to finish dying already so it would leave me alone. “I like efficiency.”
“Well, you certainly got it with that offer. That lot has been after a hug since they heard you’d started giving them to your stallion. No is an allowed answer, and you never told them when you would pay out your hug. Choose a time that you prefer. If they had wanted a hug on a schedule, they would have done a better job of demanding terms.”
I considered that. “You make a good point. I didn’t tell them when. I just said if they finished this sooner than later, I would, at some point in the future, hug them. I will do that. Eventually. I will be a good daughter for the first time in my life, and I will hug you first to make them jealous.”
“That’s my girl. We’ll make a proper demoness out of you yet. Just make sure you keep giving your stallion affection. They require it from time to time. Also, you’re a good daughter. You may not realize it yet, but you are. It helps you’re a succubus. You can get away with murder and still be a good daughter. I’m concerned there’s a cat in your heritage I don’t know about, however. You are far too fond of warm things.”
Dean nudged me with his elbow. “You do like sleeping in warm places, rather like a cat. I’m available for any warmings of your person you require. You should listen to your mother, lovely lady that she is.”
“Save your attempted seductions of my daughter for a better time,” my mother ordered. “We don’t have all night for her to work her nerves out on you, and there are no suitable places nearby. Really. You’re as bad as an incubus most of the time, Dean. She’s not going to escape you. She gets her monogamous tendencies from my side of the family, alas.”
“Thank you for having such a wonderful daughter.”
“You’re welcome. Do try to bring her home from time to time. If you can return her a little more eager for affection, it would be appreciated.”
“She’s already learned she can manipulate an entire host of angels, the Devil, and a devilish general through the power of displayed affection. I think she’ll be fine. She’ll have an entire herd to practice on.”
Dean’s mother and father, as mismatched as all their children, waved from the midst of the gathered unicorns.
It was then, surrounded by those who’d become the rest of my life, I realized several important truths.
I didn’t need any of my old art. I could paint new, better, and happier things.
I didn’t need revenge. I’d already gotten it in the form of freedom and a chance at a happy life.
I didn’t need anything to change. Everything had changed from the moment Dean had trotted into my life in a North Carolina courthouse.
I didn’t need a family. I already had one, although I had a lot left to learn about being part of that family.
I didn’t need anything other than what I already had.
“We should go get some cupcakes,” I announced. “Museum robberies are overrated. Have the Devil take the paintings. It’s not like an alarm system can defy the forces of good, evil, or whatever they are. Cupcakes are so much better than heists.”
Dean laughed. “You’re something else, Layla.”
Yes, I was, and I liked it.
About the Author
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For a complete list of books written by RJ and her various pen names, please click here.
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RJ Blain suffers from a Moleskine journal obsession, a pen fixation, and a terrible tendency to pun without warning.
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When she isn't playing pretend, she likes to think she's a cartographer and a sumi-e painter.
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In her spare time, she daydreams about being a spy. Should that fail, her contingency plan involves tying her best of enemies to spinning wheels and quoting James Bond villains until she is sa
tisfied.
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RJ also writes as Susan Copperfield and Bernadette Franklin. Visit RJ and her pets (the Management) at thesneakykittycritic.com.
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