When I pushed open the mansion's front door the next morning, I was expecting to be greeted by servants or maybe Victoria with another tray of weird food.
Instead, I found myself face-to-face with a group of black cats sitting in perfect formation on the marble floor, all staring at me with glowing yellow eyes.
"Good morning, Your Highness," they said in unison.
I nearly jumped out of my skin.
"Did you just—" I started to ask.
"Talk? Yes," said the largest cat, a sleek black tom with a white patch on his chest. "We've been waiting to properly introduce ourselves. I'm Midnight, head of household security. These are my associates."
I looked around for Alexander, but he was nowhere to be seen. The cats were still staring at me expectantly.
"Where's my husband?" I asked, feeling ridiculous for having a conversation with a group of cats.
"Master Alexander left early for business," Midnight said. "He asked us to show you around the house properly. Yesterday was a bit chaotic with all the demon attacks and whatnot."
"Demon attacks and whatnot," I repeated weakly. "Right. Because that's totally normal."
"More normal than you'd think," said a smaller cat with bright green eyes. "I'm Whisper. I handle communications. The demons have been trying to breach the house's defenses for weeks now, ever since Master Alexander started looking for you."
"He's been looking for me?"
"Oh yes," Midnight said, standing and stretching. "For months. He had tracking spells running across three states. When you walked into that club, every supernatural creature in Chicago felt the energy signature."
I rubbed my temples, trying to process this information. "So everyone knew what I was before I did?"
"Not exactly what," Whisper said. "But definitely who. Hell Princess energy is very distinctive. It's like a nuclear reactor going off in the supernatural world."
A new voice joined the conversation - deeper, more gravelly. "The whole underworld has been buzzing about it."
I turned around and nearly screamed. Standing behind me was a man who was completely transparent. I could see right through him to the expensive wallpaper beyond.
"Don't mind Harold," Midnight said casually. "He's been dead for about a hundred years, but he's excellent at managing the household staff."
"I was the butler here when this place was built," Harold said, tipping his see-through hat. "Been looking after the house ever since. Master Alexander keeps me around because I know where everything is."
I stared at the ghost butler, then at the talking cats, then back at the ghost butler.
"This is insane," I muttered.
"You'll get used to it," said a new voice.
I looked up and saw that one of the paintings on the wall - a stern-looking woman in Victorian dress - was moving. Her eyes followed me as I walked, and her mouth opened and closed as she spoke.
"I'm Margaret," the painting said. "I've been hanging in this hallway since 1892. Lovely to finally meet you properly, dear. Though I must say, that golden fire display last night was quite impressive. Haven't seen power like that since the old days."
"The old days?"
"When supernatural creatures didn't have to hide," Margaret explained. "Before humans decided we were all monsters and started hunting us. Much simpler times."
I sank down onto a velvet chair that was probably worth more than my father's house. "How many of you live here?"
"Live might not be the right word for all of us," Harold said. "But there are about thirty creatures living here. We're all here for different reasons."
"What kind of reasons?"
Midnight hopped up onto my lap, and despite everything, I found his purring comforting. "Some of us are refugees," he said. "Some are here for protection. Some owe Master Alexander favors. And some of us are here because we believe in what he's doing."
"What is he doing exactly?"
"Trying to keep the balance," Whisper said. "Between the human world and the supernatural one. Between heaven and hell. It's more complicated than most people realize."
Before I could ask what she meant, I heard the sound of the front door opening. Alexander's voice echoed through the foyer.
"Emma? Are you awake?"
"In here," I called back.
He walked into the room, and I was struck again by how beautiful he was. Today he was wearing a dark gray suit that fit him perfectly, but there were shadows under his eyes like he hadn't slept.
"I see you've met the household staff," he said, looking at the cats perched around my chair.
"They're very... talkative," I said.
"They've been excited to meet you," Alexander said. "It's not often we have royalty in the house."
"I'm not royalty anymore," I said quickly. "I'm just Emma."
"You'll always be royalty to us," Margaret said from her painting. "Blood doesn't change, dear. Even when it's been diluted by humanity."
Alexander's expression grew serious. "We need to talk," he said. "About what comes next."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean last night's attack was just the beginning," he said. "Hell is going to keep sending creatures after you until you either return willingly or they drag you back by force."
I felt a chill run down my spine. "And heaven?"
"Heaven wants you dead," he said bluntly. "They see you as a threat to the natural order. A Hell Princess with the power to influence both worlds is their worst nightmare."
"So I'm trapped," I said. "Hell wants me back, heaven wants me dead, and I just want to live a normal life."
"Normal is relative," Harold said helpfully. "I've been dead for a century and I still manage to get my laundry done."
Despite everything, I laughed. "Thank you, Harold. That's very reassuring."
Alexander sat down in the chair across from me. "There is another option," he said.
"What?"
"You could learn to control your powers. Become strong enough to defend yourself and make your own choices."
I thought about the golden fire that had erupted from my hands the night before, how good it had felt to have that kind of power.
"Would you teach me?" I asked.
"Some things," he said. "But for others, you'll need different teachers. Which is why I have to go to work today."
"Work?"
Alexander's expression grew darker. "I told you I collect souls, Emma. The contracts don't stop being due just because my personal life got complicated. Today's target is a Wall Street banker who sold his soul for insider trading tips fifteen years ago. He's made billions, destroyed countless lives, and now his payment is due."
"Can I come with you?"
"Absolutely not."
"Why not? What exactly happens during a soul collection?"
Alexander's jaw tightened. "The person dies. Usually painfully, because their body fights the separation. Then I extract their soul and deliver it to... the appropriate destination. It's not pleasant to watch."
I shuddered, but part of me was still curious. "Does he know it's happening?"
"He'll know the moment I walk into his office," Alexander said grimly. "They always know. The terror in their eyes when they realize their time is up..." He shook his head. "It's why I don't want you there, Emma. You still have compassion. I can't afford that luxury in my work."
"When will I be ready?"
"When you can control your power without accidentally setting the house on fire," he said. "Speaking of which, Midnight will be giving you your first lesson this afternoon."
I looked at the black cat, who was still purring in my lap. "He's going to teach me magic?"
"I'm going to teach you control," Midnight corrected. "Magic is instinctive for someone like you. Control is what keeps you from accidentally killing everyone around you."
That was a sobering thought.
Alexander stood up and checked his watch. "I have to go. My first appointment is in an hour."
"What kind of appointment?"
"The kind where someone's thirty-year contract expires and I have to collect their soul," he said matter-of-factly.
I shuddered. "That sounds horrible."
"It's a job," Alexander said. "Not a pleasant one, but necessary. The balance has to be maintained."
He leaned down and kissed my forehead, and I felt that familiar jolt of electricity between us.
"Stay in the house," he said. "Don't go outside the property line. The wards will protect you here, but beyond that..." He trailed off.
"Beyond that what?"
"Beyond that, you're fair game for anything that wants to take a shot at a Hell Princess," he said grimly.
After he left, I sat in the chair feeling overwhelmed. A week ago, my biggest problem was paying rent. Now I was apparently supernatural royalty hiding from both heaven and hell in a mansion full of talking cats and dead butlers.
"This is a lot to process," I said to no one in particular.
"You're handling it better than most people would," Whisper said. "Last person who found out about the supernatural world went screaming into the night and never came back."
"What happened to them?"
"Demon got them," Midnight said casually. "Very messy. We had to get new carpets."
I decided not to ask for details.
"So what do I do now?" I asked.
"Now," Midnight said, hopping down from my lap, "we start your education. Follow me."
He led me through the mansion, and I got my first real look at the place I was now supposed to call home. It was even more impressive than I'd realized - room after room of priceless antiques, original artwork, and furniture that looked like it belonged in a museum.
But there were also things that definitely didn't belong in any normal mansion. Crystal orbs that glowed with their own light. Mirrors that showed reflections of places that weren't the room we were standing in. Doors that were sealed with strange symbols and chains.
"What's behind those doors?" I asked as we passed one covered in what looked like warning signs in multiple languages.
"Storage," Harold said, appearing beside me without warning. "Master Alexander collects dangerous artifacts. Safer to keep them locked up than let them fall into the wrong hands."
"What kind of dangerous artifacts?"
"The kind that could end the world if used improperly," Margaret said from a painting we were passing. "Which is why they're locked up. Master Alexander takes his responsibilities very seriously."
We ended up in a room I hadn't seen before - it was like a library, but instead of books, the shelves were lined with bottles and jars containing things I didn't want to identify. In the center of the room was a circle carved into the floor, surrounded by symbols that hurt my eyes to look at directly.
"This is the practice room," Midnight said. "Where we'll work on your control."
"What's in all those jars?" I asked nervously.
"Spell components mostly," he said. "Eye of newt, wing of bat, that sort of thing. Though some of them are more exotic."
I walked closer to one of the shelves and saw a jar labeled "Dragon's Breath - Handle with Extreme Caution."
"Dragons are real?" I asked.
"Everything is real," Whisper said. "Humans just convinced themselves it wasn't because it was easier than dealing with the truth."
"Okay," I said, taking a deep breath. "Where do we start?"
"With the basics," Midnight said. "Sit in the center of the circle."
I sat down cross-legged on the cold stone floor. The symbols around me seemed to pulse with a faint light.
"Close your eyes," Midnight instructed. "Feel for the power inside you."
I closed my eyes and tried to concentrate. At first, I didn't feel anything unusual. Then, slowly, I became aware of something warm and bright in the center of my chest. It felt like a flame, but not one that burned - more like liquid sunshine.
"I can feel it," I said.
"Good. Now try to make it bigger."
I focused on the warm feeling and imagined it growing. The sensation spread through my chest, down my arms, into my fingertips.
"Very good," Midnight said. "Now open your eyes."
When I opened my eyes, I gasped. My hands were glowing with the same golden light I'd seen the night before, but this time it was controlled - steady and warm instead of explosive.
"That's your power," Midnight explained. "It's connected to your emotions, but with practice, you can control it consciously."
"What can it do?"
"Many things. Heal, protect, destroy. It depends on your intent."
I stared at my glowing hands in amazement. "This is really happening."
"This is really happening," he agreed.
We spent the next hour working on basic control - making the light brighter and dimmer, moving it from one hand to the other, shaping it into different forms. It was exhausting, but also exhilarating.
But it was also dangerous. The third time I tried to make the light brighter, I lost control completely. Golden fire exploded from my hands like a solar flare, scorching the stone floor and sending several glass jars flying off the shelves. One of them - labeled "Phoenix Feathers" - shattered against the wall in a shower of sparks.
"Control, Emma!" Midnight yelled, but his voice sounded far away.
The power felt incredible - like liquid lightning flowing through my veins. I could feel how easy it would be to let it consume everything, to burn down the entire mansion if I wanted to. The temptation was almost overwhelming.
It took every ounce of willpower I had to pull the fire back into myself. When I finally managed it, I was shaking and covered in sweat.
"Well," Midnight said, looking at the scorched floor and broken glass. "That could have gone better."
"I'm sorry," I gasped. "I didn't mean to—"
"Don't apologize," he said firmly. "That kind of power surge is normal for someone just awakening. But it's also why control is so important. Left unchecked, you could level a city block without meaning to."
The thought terrified me. For the first time in my life, I felt like I had real power - but power that could hurt innocent people if I wasn't careful.
We were interrupted by Harold appearing in the doorway.
"My lady," he said urgently. "You have a visitor."
"A visitor?" I stood up, and the golden light flickered out. "Who?"
"A young woman," Harold said. "She's... well, she's dead. And she says she needs your help."
I followed Harold back to the main foyer, where a translucent figure was standing near the front door. She looked like she was about my age, with long brown hair and sad eyes. Unlike Harold, who was completely transparent, she was more like a faded photograph - visible but not quite solid.
"Are you Emma?" she asked, her voice sounding like it was coming from far away.
"Yes," I said. "Who are you?"
"My name is Sarah," she said. "I died three months ago. I was murdered, but the police think it was suicide. My family thinks I killed myself, and they're not looking for my killer."
I felt a chill run through me. "Why are you telling me this?"
"Because I heard you can see us," she said. "The other spirits, they told me you might be able to help. You're the Hell Princess, right? You have power over death?"
I looked at Harold, who nodded gravely. "She's been waiting outside the property for days," he said. "Most spirits can't cross the threshold without permission."
"I gave her permission to enter when I realized what she wanted," Margaret said from her painting. "Poor dear has been trying to find justice for months."
I turned back to Sarah's ghost. "What do you want me to do?"
"I want you to find my killer," she said. "I want him to pay for what he did. And I want my family to know the truth. My little sister... she blames herself. She thinks she should have seen the signs, should have helped me somehow. But there weren't any signs because I was happy. I had just gotten a promotion at work, I was planning to adopt a puppy, I had finally started dating someone new. I wasn't suicidal - I was building a life."
Her voice broke, and I felt my heart clench.
"I don't know how to do any of that," I said helplessly.
"You have power," Sarah insisted, her form flickering with emotion. "Real power. You could make him confess. You could make sure he gets caught. I can't rest, can't move on, knowing he's out there living his life while mine was stolen."
I thought about what Alexander had said about balance, about not interfering with the natural order. But looking at Sarah's desperate face, thinking about her family's grief and her sister's guilt, I couldn't bring myself to turn her away.
"Tell me what happened," I said.
Sarah's ghostly form seemed to solidify slightly, as if hope was making her stronger.
"It was my ex-boyfriend," she said. "Jake Morrison. We dated for two years, but he became more and more controlling. He wanted to know where I was every second, who I was with, what I was doing. When I finally broke up with him six months ago, he lost it completely."
"What do you mean?"
"He kept calling, showing up at my work, following me home. He broke into my apartment twice just to leave flowers and notes saying how much he missed me. I got a restraining order, but it didn't stop him. He said if he couldn't have me, no one could."
I felt anger building in my chest, and I could see golden light starting to flicker around my fingers.
"What happened the night you died?"
Sarah's eyes filled with ghostly tears. "I was getting ready for a date with someone new - a nice guy from work named David. Jake must have been watching my apartment, because he broke in right after I got home from getting my hair done. I was so happy that night, you know? I felt like I was finally moving on."
The light around my fingers was getting brighter as I imagined this bastard destroying her happiness.
"He was waiting in my bedroom," Sarah continued, her voice trembling. "He said he'd been watching me, that he knew about David, that he wasn't going to let me be with anyone else. When I tried to call 911, he... he strangled me with his bare hands. Then he spent an hour staging the scene to look like suicide. He even typed a fake suicide note on my computer, saying I couldn't get over the breakup."
I felt anger building in my chest, and I could see golden light starting to flicker around my fingers.
"The police bought it," Sarah continued. "They said I was depressed about the breakup. My parents blame themselves. They think they should have seen the signs. But there weren't any signs because I didn't kill myself."
The light around my fingers was getting brighter. I thought about some bastard murdering this innocent girl and getting away with it, about her family blaming themselves for something that wasn't their fault.
"Where is he now?" I asked.
"He still lives in the same apartment," Sarah said. "About ten minutes from here. He's gotten away with it for three months. He even has a new girlfriend now."
The golden light was spreading up my arms now, and I could feel power coursing through me like electricity.
"Emma," Midnight said warningly. "Remember what we practiced. Control."
But I didn't want control. I wanted justice.
"I'll help you," I told Sarah.
Her ghostly face lit up with hope. "Really?"
"Really. But I need to wait for Alexander to come home. We'll figure out a plan together."
"Thank you," Sarah said, and for a moment she looked almost solid. "Thank you so much."
As she faded away, I realized I'd just made my first real decision as whatever I was becoming. Not as Emma Sterling, the broke college student who couldn't even stand up to her cheating boyfriend. As Emma Thorne, the Hell Princess with power over life and death. As someone who could actually do something about injustice instead of just witnessing it.
The weight of that responsibility was terrifying and exhilarating at the same time.
"Interesting choice," Margaret said from her painting. "Your first case, so to speak."
"Is it a mistake?" I asked, though part of me already knew the answer.
"That depends," Harold said thoughtfully. "On whether you're planning to be the kind of person who helps the innocent or the kind who minds her own business."
I thought about Sarah's desperate face, about her family grieving a suicide that never happened, about a murderer walking free and potentially hunting his next victim. I thought about all the power I'd just discovered, all the abilities I was still learning to control.
What good was any of it if I couldn't use it to help people who had no other hope?
"I'm planning to be the kind who helps," I said, and meant it with every fiber of my being.
Midnight purred approvingly. "Master Alexander will be proud of you."
I hoped he was right. Because I had a feeling that helping Sarah was going to be a lot more complicated than just using my power to make someone confess.
But I was going to try anyway.
After all, what good was being a Hell Princess if I couldn't use my power to serve justice?
End of Chapter 4