Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

I’m trying not to shake as the chilly October air pierced through my jacket, shaking my hands to get blood flow back to my fingers; like this eerie night needed anything else to frighten me out of my boots. 

“This might not have been my best idea,” I grumble, rubbing my muddy palm off on my leggings. I had just finished burying a box that I had spent months searching for, hoping it would give me the answer towards my questions. 

I let out a shaky sigh, hyping myself up a little before I bring my kitchen knife to my palm and squeeze, blinking a few times when I open my palm, and it comes out dry. I frown, trying again, harder this time, and wince as it cuts deeper than intended this time. I quickly say the Latin words I had spent ten minutes rehearsing while sitting in my car hyping myself up and telling myself that this was a good idea, that no one else would do this, that it had to be me. My eyes dart to any sudden sound as I wait for the supposed being to appear before me. 

When I had been searching the family library for any books relating to our family's ancestry I hadn’t expected to stumble across a so-called grimoire. It contained explicit details on how to summon a demon, not any demon but a demon powerful enough to help me find out my brother's killer. Everyone ruled it a suicide, but I felt it in my bones that no way could he have killed himself, at a New Years Eve party nonetheless.

I’m ashamed of myself when nothing shows up, picking up the old grey t-shirt I had brought for bandaging purposes, tying it in a tight knot that would make my girl scout troop leader proud and crouch down, starting to dig up the wooden box I had buried not even ten minutes ago. This was stupid, and I had known it was when I found the book, the box, even on the ride here I had known this wasn’t going to work and that it was just an attempt at trying to get over Balthazar’s death. 

My school mandated therapist in in seventh grade had said that I had a lot of issues admitting that Balthazar was gone (Untrue, I knew he was gone) and was searching for ways to justify a horrible thing that had happened (also untrue, I knew him enough to know that there was no way he would kill himself).

I look up at the sky, lips pursing at the growing number of clouds as I rush to get the box unburied, eager to get into my car and back to my apartment before it starts to rain. If the clouds and rising wind were indications of anything, it would be that it was about to downpour and no way was I going to add driving home soaking wet to the list of already bad stuff that's happened to me tonight.

 I make it all of three feet before I can no longer move, muscles locked in position as my breath hitches in panic. 

“Hello there, you definitely weren’t what I was expecting,” a low voice drawls out behind me, slow steps circling around me before a man appears in front of me, deep caramel skin wrinkling near his eyes as he grins, revealing a set of pearly white teeth, canines sharp. “Doesn’t look sickly, though could gain some more weight, looking a little malnourished,” Rude, I eat a healthy amount, “you’re not old, and judging by your shoes you don’t lack money, did a spoiled brat get a hold of something she shouldn’t?” His condescending tone makes me want to slap him, which would be a good idea if he wasn’t an otherworldly demon who's no doubt been privy to things much worse, and if I could move. 

I take a shuddered breath, and he snaps his fingers, leaning against a rusting pole on the edge of the sidewalk. I’m stuck in a staring contest with his pale grey eyes– no way can those be natural. Do demons wear contacts? -- when a brief movement behind him catches my attention. Were those…wings?

He claps his hands as I break contact and I fall to the ground, unsteady as my muscles ache from being frozen in that position for so long. I lay there for a moment in mortification before I sit up, standing shakily as I turn to face him once more. The side view reveals two massive black wings, the tips dragging on the ground behind him as if he was too lazy to carry them properly.

“I’m here to make a deal.”

“Obviously,” He rolls his too-grey eyes and stops to stand in front of me, hands on his hips. Was he seriously wearing leather pants? “What exactly do you want? I’m not normally up here doing this kind of stuff, you should feel lucky you got me.”

Lucky, right. The book said that it should be treated respectfully, no matter what it did to antagonize me. “I need you to find someone for me,” I pause, putting my hands on my own hips to mimic his stance and try to appear more confident. “Someone killed my brother, and I want to know who.”

His eyes go glossy and pale for a second before a smirk rises to his face, revealing his sharpened canines again “The brother that died on New Year's Day. How tragic Balthazar's death was to you. Alright, you’re willing to pay?”

I close my eyes at the mocking tone before opening them and I nod, “I am, anything.”

“Anything is a dangerous word for demons, Sweetie, I'd be careful with your words in the future.” A quill materializes in his hand, a blank parchment appearing in the other. “The name of your brother's killer for your soul, collected when I see fit.”

I hesitate, eyes flickering between the materials in his hands. “I need justice before you can.” 

He rolls his eyes, a quick nonchalant action, before sighing and exasperatedly nodding, “Yes, yes, you will get your petty revenge before I drag you down.”

“ Justice .” I correct quickly.

“Is there a difference?”

“Yes.” I take a step towards him, plucking the quill out of his hand with a surprising amount of ease, “Where do I sign?”

He uncoils the thick parchment, holding onto the bottom and pointing it towards me, the document blank besides the line at the bottom where I assume I have to sign. 

“You have to sign in blood.” 

I hesitate, looking up at him from under my lashes and he shrugs, a lazy smirk still gracing his lips. I tug the shirt from my palm, not even attempting to untie it. The tear causes the wound to start bleeding again, and I glance up at him to see him intensely staring at me; my open palm specifically. 

I drip the quill into the wound, careful not to go too deep. It tingles as I pull away and bring the quill to the paper quickly, signing my name.

Kassandra Ross 

“Good?” I question as he quickly scrolls it back up, the paper seemingly moving on its own. 

“ Perfect. ” His eyes are wide and wild, sending fear shooting through my spine. Little late for that. 

“Now: name?” I demand, wanting this to be done as soon as possible before I can regret what I’ve just done.

“It’ll take time,” he drags a hand down the bottom half of his face, scanning me over. “A couple days at least.”

“I thought this was an automatic thing,” I say, standing awkwardly now, lips pursed. Why didn’t I wear something with pockets? 

He steps back out of my space, hands clasped behind his back. “No, I have people who search for me. I’m much too busy to deal with finding one meaningless person on a planet populated with over eight million of the little roaches.”

“That so-called meaningless roach is the reason I just exchanged my soul so, not so meaningless.” 

He rolls his eyes, “ Please , you did it for your own self-gratification.”

I clench my jaw, debating my next words. Respect no matter how much it tries to antagonize me…Respect. “How will you contact me?” 

“I’ll find you,” he says vaguely.

“That’s not creepy at all,” I lean my weight between my heel and toes. “Can’t I give you my phone number or something?” 

“What makes you think I don’t have it already?” 

“ Cool, ” I send him finger guns, which I immediately find beyond mortifying and put my hands back down, “so you like being creepy. Send me a text before you just show up, yeah?” 

“I really don’t think you’re in a position to make demands,” he lets out a surprised laugh, brows raising dramatically. 

“Well, my soul is still mine, correct?” 

“Yes.”

“Then I can be as demanding as I want. Until his killer is found at least.” I swallow thickly. 

“And what makes you so certain he didn’t off himself? So many people die that way, a tragic amount really. You’d think people would learn but they really don’t.”

“Learn not to kill themselves? They kill themselves because they don’t want to live anymore, Balthazar definitely wanted to live.”

“Sure he did,” He grumbled offhandedly. “Rather ironic people kill themselves to stop living just to come down to me and live for eternity, isn’t it?”

“I…suppose.”

“Expect me back in three days, five max. Business days, I don’t work weekends for mortals.” He stretches his long arms above his head before grinning down at me. “Oh, and I’d run back to your car if I were you.” 

“Why, am I gonna be smited?” I cross my arms over my chest and his smile widens impossibly more. 

“No, just drenched.” I blink and he’s gone. Immediately a sheet of rain comes falling onto me, soaking me down to my underwear and I gasp, looking at the ground before deciding to just leave the box and sprint to my car. 

So much for not getting rained on.