Page 19 of Dancing With Demons

All of them decried the Great Invasion, and all of them said nasty, bigoted things about the mutts, leeches, and fae insert-homophobic-slur-here who led the supposed invasion. Did the fallen angels get this much hate when they actually forced their way into hell and took over, because it was ridiculous how much bile and vitriol was spewed toward people who didn’t want to be here, and certainly didn’t come here willingly.

“What is with this place?” I whispered, lips twisting at a particularly gruesome poster of a group of demons holding down a faeman and ripping his wings off. “Are they stirring up all this hatred and animosity on purpose? Is it because demons can use hatred to boost their magic?”

Dora dropped her head, peering into my face. “Pardon?”

“Hmm? No, nothing,” I said, focusing on her. “I was just saying that you need to stay close to me, okay? Go where I go. Do what I do. After classes let out, we’ll find a dorm room that’s big enough for both of us, and then move our stuff in there.” I patted the bag she gave me filled with the research. “Don’t worry, all of this won’t be for long. We’ll get out of here soon.”

She shrugged, smiling away. “If you say so.”

I could only stare at her, while silently cursing Lucifer, Lord of Piss. How did he do it? How did he turn my sister into this empty-headed doll? Don’t get me wrong, the real Dora was also a happy, sweet kid by default, but with the people she was comfortable with, she wasn’t afraid to show off her sarcastic, tough, smart-ass side.

But that side had completely been erased... along with her memory of me.

“Dora?” I asked softly as the doors opened and the lecture hall started to fill up. “What do you remember? What’s your last name?”

“Lightbringer,” she replied without hesitation. “Adora Lightbringer.”

Wrong.

“What’s your mother’s name?”

“I don’t have a mother.” Again. No hesitation. “It’s just me and Daddy.”

I gritted my teeth hearing her call him that. The news that we had different fathers didn’t bother me. Dora was my sister—end of. But what did bother me was hearing the man who used Dora as a pawn, then callously watched her die, being called a name he did not earn in any way.

“Where do you live?”

“Pomarium.”

I frowned. “Where’s that?”

“Daddy’s kingdom.”

Hmm. That must be the House Lucifer that everyone’s talking about. “How long have you lived there?” I asked.

“I...” Dora cocked her head, blinking up at the ceiling. “I don’t know.”

“How old are you?”

“Eighteen.”

“And what did you do for your eighteenth birthday?”

Another vacant look. “Birthday?”

“We had a dog when we were kids. Do you remember her name?”

“What’s a dog?”

I knew it. Lucifer filled her head with answers to all the standard questions, but when you dug around for details, Dora couldn’t offer any.

Lucifer said he was only giving me half my present. He said before that, in my dream, that he was sending an incentive for me to work quickly. But what was the incentive? I was already doing all of this to get my sister back. Did he think I’d work harder to get her memories back than I would to get back her soul?

I tossed my head, wondering at devious fallen angels and their pointless power plays. I didn’t know why this jerk insisted on going above and beyond to reach new levels of assholery, but instead of despairing, he gave me hope.

Dora was back by my side—safe and whole. Now, I’d finally stop stressing night and day about where she was and what was happening to her. We were together now, and I’d do whatever it took to protect her from Lucifer and my mother.

“Okay, here.” Reaching into my bag, I pulled out my notebook and pencil. “Write down everything you do remember about yourself and where you’re from. I’m going to do some reading while you do.”