nine demon 101

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       THIS IS A HERO'S STORY, but right now, the main item on Izzy's agenda is this: acquire pizza. Nate's busy — "Vanderbilt Senior's birthday" — so it's Riley and Izzy to their own devices, ordering themselves a hearty meal of Dominoes, extra garlic dip included, of course. They were planning on doing some homework, but after the bombshell news of Charlotte Hope's murder, all scholastic efforts are out of the window. So now they're ordering pizza.

       "All I'm saying," Riley's explaining, as they get into the elevator to go downstairs. The front desk doesn't let delivery drivers go upstairs... Especially to their apartment, seeing as Isabelle was kidnapped there. Ha, ha. Fun times. "Is that it wouldn't be a bad thing if we spent more time with Peter and Ned... It was nice, you know, being around normal people."

       Isabelle nods; she gets what Riley means. Riley wasn't born into this life like Izzy was — and Izzy isn't saying it's a bad thing, or whatever, but she gets that it's refreshing, talking to someone who isn't hi my daddy's gonna pay my way into college. That's partly why Izzy likes Peter. He isn't from her world.

       "I think the same," says Isabelle. "Peter didn't know what YSL was."

       "You just don't get that here," says Riley.

       They reach the lobby, and retrieve the pizza from the delivery guy. He looks at Izzy with a squint, and she figures he recognises her. People do. It was all over the news, when she was kidnapped — and of course it blew up when people realised that they had gotten the Avengers to find her... And, sure, that makes sense when you realise that (a) her nanny is best friends with one Avenger and had some weird fling with another, and (b) Izzy is Satan's daughter, meaning, it's kinda a big deal if she's, you know, kidnapped. She doesn't know why her dad didn't just emerge from hell and save her himself, but whatever. Maybe it was character-building.

       "It's gonna get worse if Dad wins the election," says Isabelle, talking about the delivery guy recognising her. "Gosh, I don't wanna deal with that."

       "I like the irony of it," says Riley. "The devil's daughter as America's sweetheart." She shrugs. "You know, it's brilliant..." And then she starts to grin. "Incredible... amazing... show stopping, spectacular, never been seen before—" And then she stops because she's laughing.

       Izzy scoffs. "Maybe we'll meet Lady Gaga."

       "Uh, yes please?" says Riley, eyes widening. Her phone buzzes, and she looks at the message, before sighing. "Oh... They've moved rehearsal tomorrow..."

       And then the weird stuff starts.

       A quiet ding sounds from the elevator speaker, indicating it's reached a floor. But Isabelle takes this elevator countless times a day, she knows when it's at her floor. And it isn't. It's at the floor below. The chrome doors slide open, slowly, as if they know this isn't supposed to happen. And yet they open, and they linger on the hallway, a still silence casting over the entire floor.

        Izzy and Riley exchange a frown.

       She doesn't know why, but she feels as if something's wrong. Call it antichristian, or just bad vibes, but Isabelle feels it, in the pit of her stomach. Something isn't right. There's an awful coldness in the quiet air. For a building in the heart of a city, it feels dreadfully isolated.

       Blaire and Sirena live on this floor with their mom, when she's around, so Isabelle turns to Riley. "I'll be back in a minute," she tells her.

       Isabelle steps out into the hallway. Unlike her floor, which is just their apartment, there's two on this floor, making the hallway a winding path, running from the elevator shaft to the window looking out at Central Park. On the right, there's an Oscar Wilde type, and the left, Blaire and Sirena. So she walks to their door, and she raises her hand to knock, but the door creaks open.

       The apartment's in darkness, the only light being that from the city outside. Blue lights from a passing ambulance manage to get themselves into the apartment, the living room flashing black and blue. Isabelle feels even worse as she steps into the apartment, to try and find the girls. Something is wrong.

       "Blaire, Sirena... Are you guys OK?"

       The cupboard next to her opens slightly, and Isabelle can make out a sliver of Blaire's face. "Someone's in here," says Blaire.

       Isabelle remembers what happened to her. "Got it."

       "No, Izzy—"

       "I'll call the police and downstairs and—"

       There's urgency to Blaire's voice. "No, you don't get it—!"

       Isabelle hears footsteps further in the apartment.

       "We were playing a game and..."

       The footsteps are getting closer.

       "... it went bad."

       "What game?"

       The footsteps change from a trudge to a scuffle.

        "Blaire, what game did you play?"

       But car lights outside reflect against the broken glass across the dresser, leading all the way to a cracked mirror, hanging on the wall.

       "Oh," is all she can say.

       A tall figure appears in front of Isabelle. Straight black hair sits behind her shoulders, a dirtied white cloth making the dress that covers her, ankles to neck to wrists. It's too dark to see her face, but it's light enough to catch the mud and blood on her dress.

       The thing had been running until this point, but halted the second it saw Isabelle. As if it knows. It must know. It's a demon, Isabelle practically has her father's voice telling her this. She can feel it in her stomach, a sort-of gut reaction, to the deafening presence this thing holds.

       Isabelle doesn't want to move. The thing seems to be copying her stance, at the other end of the room. She stares at it, in case a small glance away gives the thing an advantage. Her brows furrow. By the broken mirror and game gone wrong, Isabelle knows for sure who this is.

       So.

       Have you ever heard of Bloody Mary?

       Of course you have. You were twelve once. Maybe you looked in a mirror and said her name, maybe you didn't. But you've heard of her. Isabelle, when she was younger, tried to summon her, but her dad (the devil one) appeared instead and told her she was going to get herself killed. So she stopped after the second Bloody Mary.

       Thing is, it's a little alarming, when her only memory of this thing is the devil himself, warning her.

       "So," says Isabelle, stepping closer. She tries to ignore the fact that Blaire and Sirena can hear everything she's about to say... She also tries to ignore Mary stepping closer, too, mirroring her. "Miss Mary... You're not supposed to be here."

       "You aren't, either," says Mary. She has a quiet, but gravelly, voice. It's grim.

         Isabelle doesn't know what to do... Does she just try and banish her?

       She tries to think back to when her dad warned her about Bloody Mary, back to when her bedroom's violet walls had an orange glow, as the devil stood inside them. "She is too dangerous for you," he had said. "I will not be happy if you try this again..." But she's got to, hasn't she? So she thinks about old spellbooks, witchy stores she's visited, Google searches. Everyone talks about Bloody Mary, but never how to get rid of her... So she's got to figure this out herself.

       But she can do that, just fine.

       "I know who you are," the demon continues.

       "Yeah, I'd think so," the devil replies.

       Isabelle accidentally steps on the TV remote; Bloody Mary, of all Gaga songs, is playing on MTV. She can't help but react, rolling her eyes, and Mary takes the chance to tackle Isabelle.

       Isabelle reaches up and grabs Bloody Mary by the throat. Up close the demon's face is angular but rotting, peeling skin revealing clean bones underneath. Mary copies Isabelle, so sharp nails are at Isabelle's throat, trying to scratch steel skin. She can't break through, so she tries to strangle Isabelle instead, but Isabelle knees her in the crotch — even demons feel pain down there! — and takes the chance to push her off, jumping to her feet. She grips the back of Mary's neck instead, dragging her across the floor. She can't mirror her actions now, can she?

       She walks to the window, and opens it, wide. Maybe this isn't the best way of sending them to hell, but it's the first way she thought of. She can't just think send me to hell if her mind's busy — like it is right now. So Isabelle climbs onto the ledge, bringing Mary with her. If she jumps, Lucifer will send her straight to hell, to save her, and Mary will come with her.

       And then Mary throws herself backwards.

       Isabelle almost falls out of the window, she's so caught off guard. She quickly jumps back down, but Mary takes the chance to clasp her hands around Isabelle's throat. Her cold breath touches Isabelle's face, as she tries to force Isabelle out of the open window. Isabelle grips her fingers onto the side of the window to stop herself from falling. She knows if she jumps she'll be saved, but she doesn't want to leave Mary unattended with the girls...

       Come on, Izzy. She switches into a bat and slips out of Mary's grasp. But Mary grabs onto her wing, and there's a crack. Without thinking twice Isabelle's forced back into herself and crashes into the coffee table behind her. She clutches her broken arm, broken glass scratching her skin; it's not enough to cut fallen angel skin, but enough to irritate.

       The cupboard door creaks, and Bloody Mary turns her attention to that instead. Isabelle tries her hardest to grab her ankles before she can start moving, but already she's out of Isabelle's reach. Now, there's a sofa between them, and a small space between Bloody Mary and the girls...

       Isabelle hears a dog bark from outside, and thinks, of course!

       "CERBERUS!"

       And, like that, her puppy appears in the apartment. But he isn't a small dog anymore — rather, an oversized Rottweiler, with three snarling heads, who creeps closer to Bloody Mary.

       "Blaire! Sirena! Go upstairs!" shouts Isabelle.

       There's a scuffle as the two girls rush out of the apartment. Mary moves, wanting to go after them, but Cerberus inches closer, trapping her.

       Isabelle stands up, her broken arm almost healed. I'm supposed to fight an angel and I can't even do this right, she thinks. I had to get my dog to finish her off. How do I think I can fight the angel?

       She can't solve this now. She wants to banish her, but she knows there's a specific way of exorcising demons, and she doesn't know it. But she's got to help Blaire and Sirena out, to keep them safe...

       There's a bracelet on the sofa, and Isabelle picks it up. She can do a binding spell, at least.

       "Bloody Mary," says Isabelle, placing the bracelet around her once-broken wrist. "As long as this bracelet is around my wrist, you are hereby banished back to the mirrors."

       Mary's body disappears, materialising into nothing. Isabelle tells Cerberus he's been a good boy and he turns back into a puppy, so she can pick him up. What a softie.

       When the two return upstairs, Riley's sitting at the kitchen island with their pizzas, and Marie's trying to comfort the two girls, blankets wrapped around them. Isabelle sits down next to Riley, who's quietly eating away at her pineapple pizza, whilst Blaire blubbers.

       "So you summoned a demon," says Isabelle, to the girls.

       Blaire stops crying. "She's a demon?"

       "Uh, you have to say her name three times, and you can trap her in an oddly specific object," says Isabelle. "That's, like, Demon 101."

       Sirena frowns. "How do you—?"

        Isabelle sighs. "I'm Morningstar."

       The four people surrounding her freeze. Riley and Marie, because Isabelle should not be announcing this, and Blaire and Sirena, because they've just found out their neighbour's the devil's daughter.

        "Don't tell anyone," says Isabelle, and Blaire and Sirena nod frantically. "Anyway. Mary. She's trapped in the mirrors for now — I'm borrowing this bracelet, by the way, until it's sorted. I'll figure it out as quickly as I can. In the meantime... Keep your mirrors covered. Use your phone, if you need to look at your reflection."

       The girls nod.

       "Thank you," says Blaire, quietly.

       Sirena frowns. "So your dad...?"

       "Is running for president, so this really can't get out," says Isabelle, smiling politely. "My other dad, Lucifer, won't be impressed if you tell people who I am. Yeah?"

        "Yeah," says Sirena, her eyes widening.

        Marie ends up taking the girls back downstairs, since it's one of the few nights their mom's at home. Isabelle takes a bite of her pizza, and frowns.

       Riley raises an eyebrow. "So... Bloody Mary?"

       "We can't tell anyone else," says Isabelle, shoving more pizza into her mouth. Pizza truly tastes better when it's earned. "She's only gonna go after people that know... So for now, you can't use mirrors, either." Riley nods. "I don't know how to exorcise a demon, though, so I don't know how..."

       "Maybe you've got the power to do that," says Riley.

       "What, the power of Morningstar?" says Isabelle, pulling a face. Like, she's sure it's a good thing, but right now, this unattainable power isn't very useful.

       "I mean, you are the devil's daughter," says Riley. "Surely that gives you some sort of authority."

       Isabelle shrugs. "I don't know..."

       Some time passes and Riley calls it a night, the Oswald driver taking her home. Normally, since it's a Saturday night, Riley would sleep over, but Riley's got rehearsals tomorrow at school, bright and early. Their school's doing The Wizard of Oz. They can't do Wicked, because it's too witchy for a Catholic school. Riley's Dorothy.

       "That's fine," says Isabelle. Maybe she's a little hurt... She wanted to bitch about Mary to Riley. Maybe she'll give Peter a call instead. "Let me know if anything's wrong..."

       Riley nods, and smiles softly. "Maybe we can hang out after rehearsal."

       "Cool," says Isabelle.

       One minute after Riley's departure, and Izzy's got her phone out. The FaceTime calling tone rings through the apartment, as she waits for Peter's face to appear.

       "Hi," she says.

       He's on a roof, in his new Spidey suit. He looks cute.

       "Hey," he says. "Busy night?"

       "Oh," she says, rolling her eyes. "Don't even get me started."

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       DON'T WORRY, IZZY DIDN'T SAY which demon fucked her over — she doesn't want Peter to look into the mirror, about to brush his teeth, and find the bitch staring back at him. Demons spread through awareness. And if Mary's after Izzy's blood... Well, she's gonna stay close to her. And that means her friends can't find out which demon it was, in case she goes for them. Riley's already duct-taped fabric over her mirrors, to make sure Mary doesn't go for her. (To be fair... If she did, that would be it, but whatever.)

       But Izzy's going to stop Mary for good. The more she thinks about it, the more unsettling it is. Like, Mary is out here, terrorising children, for what? There's no life lesson kids learn from summoning her. Maybe don't summon Scary Mary. But that isn't a valuable life lesson, isn't it? Most people would tell you to not do that, and chances are, they haven't played the game, they just know it's stupid to summon a demon.

       So, Izzy's going to send Mary back to hell, and for good. She's written her evil dad a nice little letter asking him if he's got any tips, but in the meantime, she's got Google and the witchcraft stores in Manhattan. How very Bella Swan of her.

       "If you've got any ideas, Pete," says Isabelle, the next day. "Please let me know... Because all I've got so far is return her and ask for a refund."

       They're passing out cupcakes for her dad's charity picnic. It's in Queens, so Peter said he'd help out. Apparently, a couple kids from his school are helping anyway. (They like her dad.) But it's nice, being able to spend time with Peter. Even if it's paused every couple of minutes with people wanting to ask her about either (a) her dad, or (b) her kidnapping. She knows people don't mean to be nosey. She reminds herself that to a lot of people, it's super cool, being able to talk to a presidential candidate and their daughter, who was saved by the Avengers.

       "I don't know... I'm worried that if I don't figure out how to trap her, she'll come back... Like, what would've happened, if I didn't find her last night? But for now she's stuck in a very specific object, so unless the angel appears and undoes the magic, it's fine for now." She sighs. "I don't know... I'll figure it out. What's new with you?"

       "Oh, there's been a couple of robberies and stuff," he says. She nods. They're both keeping their voices down, in case people walk past and overhear, but for the most part, the interest of the picnic is on the guy throwing it (her dad, on the other side of the park's patio area) and not the two teenagers at the cupcake stand. "They've all had these weird weapons, though — have you had that?"

       "All I get is ghosts and angels..." She shakes her head. "How are they weird?"

       "They're just, like, super-charged, or something," says Peter. "It's freaky. At the bank, they had this thing that just took the ATM off the wall."

       "Woah," she says. "That's like, Stark-level."

       "I know," he says, frowning.

       "Maybe they stole it from him," she says, brows furrowing.

       "But why would Mr Stark make something to rob banks?"

       Isabelle shrugs. "I mean, isn't he, like, a war criminal?"

       "OK, Team Captain America," says Peter, who snorts.

       "OK, they're both war criminals," she says, and she nudges Peter, smiling softly. "We've got so much in common..." Peter smiles back at her. Isabelle can feel her cheeks burning. Yeezus, can you believe this? This teenage boy is making her, the antichrist, blush. "Besides, I'm not exactly good."

       Peter frowns. "Yeah, you are."

       "Uh." She pauses to raise her hands, mimicking devil horns. "You forget something?"

       "It isn't your fault," he says, with a shrug. Her head's tilted, and she feels like a confused dog. Hell, she feels like a cartoon character, how over-animated her confusion is. "I mean, your other dad's technically a fallen angel, right? Maybe you're more angel than... fallen..."

       Isabelle could cry?

       "I'm an angel?" she says. For some reason her voice has gone all high. If Riley was here, she'd say, you sound like Kylie Jenner. 'Is that a chicken?'

       But like, did you hear him? He called her an angel! That's monumental!

       She needs to tell Riley, as soon as.

       "Well... You save lives..." says Peter, with a lot less confidence than before.

       Izzy grins at him. "Am I your angel?"

       "I—Uh—"

       Unfortunately, some mom called Susan walks up to them to get a cupcake. She asks if they're vegan. Oh, uh, these ones are, Isabelle tells her. And then the mom smiles at her and explains that her family's protesting against animal cruelty... She says this, as she holds a leather handbag. Isabelle smiles and nods.

       "You must be so proud of your dad," the woman then says.

       Isabelle keeps on smiling. "Oh, absolutely!"

       Peter has his head down. He's not used to this. Izzy's got smile and wave down to a T now.

       "You seem like such a close family," the woman says. "He must've been worried sick when you were kidnapped... That was you, wasn't it?"

        She wants to say my trauma says yes! but, she knows to stop herself. Part of her always worries that these questions are some undercover journalist snooping. She can imagine it now: her eyes glisten with the ghosts of her past, as she describes the nightmares that keep her awake, years later. So instead she says the normal spiel, and says her dad's over there, if she wants to discuss it further.

        As soon as she's gone, Izzy groans.

       "Since when were you were kidnapped?" says Peter, sarcastically.

       "Oh, yeah, didn't you know?" says Izzy, and she rolls her eyes. "Like, I get why people ask, but... Maybe I don't like talking about the forty days I thought I was gonna die..."

       "It's not the same, uh, but when my uncle died, people were the same," says Peter. Isabelle frowns. "It stops after a while."

       "Your uncle died?" she says. Her voice has gone quiet.

       "He was murdered, yeah," he says.

       All she can say is, "Oh."

       They end up running out of cupcakes, so they get to leave early, thank the devil. As they're clearing up, Isabelle glances at Peter. She wants to ask about his uncle, but she doesn't want to be nosey. She knows what that's like. But, like... She cares about him, she wants to know...

       Whatever. Maybe they'll have a sleepover and, once the night hits DMC hours, she can bring it up. Or maybe he'll mention it. But right now feels wrong. So, she keeps on clearing up the equipment; at one point they make an over-exaggerated act of carrying the table back to the campaign van, because Peter and Izzy totally need help carrying something heavy. It's not like, you know, both of them have superhuman strength.

       "Hey, uh, are you doing anything now?" says Peter.

       Izzy shakes her head. "Haven't planned anything..."

       "Maybe we could, like, hang out...?"

       "I'd love to," says Isabelle, with a smile. "So, Peter, what do you guys do, Sundays midtown...?"

anyways i hope u enjoyed!! the charlotte n alex murders will be explained in the upcoming chapters!! but the scary mary plotline is gonna start the second half of this book and i'm SUPER excited!!!

let me know what u thought!! <3

also i hope you're all staying safe!! idk if you're on lockdown, but i'm in the uk so i am, but whatever's happening in your part of the world, i hope you're doing okay. much love xx