Caged by Damnation (Caged #2)(31)

I certainly wasn't going to go out to buy myself a snake anytime soon, but most of my fear surrounding Ivy's pet had come from not expecting to find it curling around my ankles.

The Hellhounds happened to be a unique lot, but I’d found familiar footing with each of the others. Ivy was more difficult to relate to. Perhaps it was her candid temper or bizarre way of looking at the world, but we hadn't found anything to build a sisterly foundation on.

I looked down at the snake, and around at the rest of the room. In the center rested an old fashioned king-size bed, while the rest of the room seemed to support Ivy's acidic personality. Even the plants inside her room were the living kind, including Venus flytraps that were larger than I thought possible. Vines draped over her maroon curtains, and her floor was a collage of cement, marble, and dirt, as if it couldn't quite make up its mind about what it wanted to be.

Ivy's walls were hand-painted with elaborate pieces, one wall of a father raising his daughter in the air, swinging her in a circle; another, an exotic forest, complete with plants I had never seen, with eyes of animals peering through the trees. The wall to my left depicted a pair of weary eyes, tired from seeing too much. Behind me, I found that the wall in which her door resided contained an assortment of birds of prey, butterflies, and a night sky.

I pointed to the walls. "Did you paint these?"

Ivy had been shuffling nervously though papers on a nightstand near her bed, as if ignoring my presence would banish me. "Yeah, why?" She sounded defensive and a bit vulnerable.

"They're beautiful. You have an amazing talent."

Ivy eyes dared me to make fun of her hobby. When I didn't, she nodded and said, "I redo them every month or so. Well, everything other than the ceiling. It gets boring staring at the same thing every day."

I glanced up to find a living masterpiece, angels and demons fighting a war, blood streaming down their faces, and a blinding light in the distance. The faces were harsh with pain, evidence that they regretted the massacre, but still, the fight continued. The wings were in varying shades of white, black, gray, blue, and silver, all streaked with the blood of enemies and allies alike. They brandished swords of silver with an iridescent glow and wore clothing that reminded me of ancient Greece.

In the far corner of the painting, women clustered near some pillars, holding their children to their bosoms, protecting them from the sight of death. Their faces bespoke the knowledge that though their young couldn't see the bloodshed, hearing it would forever alter their fates. A woman stood in the center of the chaos. Her knees were half bent, one hand outstretched towards a fallen soldier; tears were falling from her eyes. If it were possible to witness a soul breaking, Ivy had captured it in this woman. Her eyes screamed of loss, her body curved with the agony of hopelessness; her presence spoke of the need to stand up for those who cannot do so themselves.

Tearing my gaze from Ivy's art, I looked back at her. "Wow. Where did you learn to do that?"

"Practice, and a lot of time." Her smile was hesitant and short-lived. "Has anyone ever told you that you ask too many questions?"

"All the time, but I never listen."

"Well, you do." Pointing to her snake, Ivy said, "Brass won't hurt you, you know. You don't need to stand in the center of the room." Ivy gestured to the bed, where my feet would dangle dangerously close to her snake.

"What kind of name is that for a snake?" I giggled, but stopped short at Ivy's sneer. "Never mind, it's a great name. I'm sure he loves it."

It was a relief when she turned away from me to pick him up.

Now that Brass was away from the bed, I sat on it to face Ivy, waiting for her to give me my gift and her Hellhound name, the way the others had. Minutes ticked by, during which she stroked the snake’s length, allowing it to slick it's tongue against her forearm.

"Um, what type of snake is Brass?"

I didn't really care about Brass one bit, but needed to get the ball rolling. The sooner I was out of Ivy's domain, the better. Finally, Ivy glanced away from her pet, allowing him to curl around her wrist and writhe along her arm, until he settled with his head on her shoulder. I shivered, suddenly wanting to get this done with even more quickly.

Ivy must have had similar thoughts, because she ignored my question and plowed towards the real reason for my visit. "Let's skip the small talk. I don't want you here any more than you want to be."

Speaking through gritted teeth, I said what I was really thinking rather than allowing my upbringing to temper my mood. "Great, sounds good. We can skip the pleasantries and get straight to doing what you do best, treating others with disdain without even an ounce of good reasoning behind it. Would it kill you to be kind for once?"

Ivy seemed taken off guard at my uncontrolled temper. Spinning in a circle, she pointed to the domain around her. "Would you feel up to being nice to everyone after living here for eternity? The only changes are my paintings! I didn't get to go to high school, or date guys, and I certainly never got Death's special treatment. You have the world on a silver platter. Should I feel bad that you got to live a real life before your imprisonment? Oh wait, that's right, this isn't a prison for you. You get to leave and do whatever you want while the rest of us are bound to him!"

Silence stretched on for what seemed like forever, while Ivy reeled from her temper. She straightened her dress, as if doing so could banish her outburst, then she looked to me. I had thought of Ivy as a sort of teacher’s pet where Death was concerned, but now I wondered if I had misjudged the situation.