The last traces of ash on Beatrix's hands swirled down the drain.
They were safe now. Away from the two horsemen, their swinging scythes, the suffocating fire and smoke.
Leaning over the bathroom sink, Beatrix let the water soothe her inflamed skin. The blotchy rash stretching from the tips of her fingers to her mid-forearms showed no signs of fading, even though almost an hour had passed since their encounter with death, or deaths, in the woods.
She was currently in Astar's bathroom, which was connected to his private suite in the boy's dormitory—a special living arrangement reserved for the marquess of the fifth circle of hell.
The only other dorm on campus as nice as this belonged to Cleo.
However, the key difference between Cleo and Astar's living quarters was clear: Astar was a total slob.
Toothpaste residue lined the sink, nail files for his talons were scattered on the countertops, and dirty clothes and towels lay crumpled near his shower.
There was a knock at the door.
Jackson's voice came from the other side. "Beatrix? You okay in there?"
Rather than using one of Astar's nasty towels to dry her hands, Beatrix gingerly pressed them on her black jeans.
She winced as she used a burned hand to turn the bathroom door handle.
Jackson looked just as disheveled and dirty as her, his glasses crooked from the chase.
"I'm fine," she reassured. "But my skin isn't looking any better."
"Yeah, you definitely overdid the fire spell," Astar said. The devil sat on the floor next to Autumn, both of them leaning against the foot of his bed.
He was pressing a damp cloth against the scorched area of Autumn's collarbone, working to remove the burn marks from her canvas skin. Thankfully, Autumn had gotten out of the forest in one piece.
Since the boy's dormitory had been the closest refuge, they were all hiding out in Astar's room until the chaos on the south side of the school died down.
"You mean you overdid the fire spell," Beatrix countered.
"Ha! That's funny. You must've hit your head out there, 'cause you're misremembering things," Astar said. He nudged Autumn. "Patches, back me up here."
"Don't drag her into this," Beatrix scolded.
Besides, Autumn was being noticeably quiet at the moment.
"N-now's not the time to fight," Jackson tried to interject. "We gotta figure out what to do now that—"
"Hey, you asked for help, I delivered," Astar told Beatrix.
"Your blood, or whatever that gold stuff was, boosted the magic too much. I didn't mean to burn the whole forest down!"
"You ditched me, I hurt your hands a little. Now we're even," Astar said. "Normally, I'd put more ash on your palms to counteract the ichor, protect your skin, and give you better control over the flames. But nope, couldn't do that because, oh yeah, you knocked me out and then had the nerve to demand I save you." Astar's volume rose. "I woke up to that old goblin dragging me across the floor. She tried to stuff me in a kitchen closet!"
"Greta? The lunch lady?" Jackson questioned. "Why was Greta..."
Beatrix didn't pay attention to the comment as her anger flared. "You told me the magic would last an hour, but it disappeared after a few fire blasts! That's why I was in a bind and needed to summon you!"
"An hour was just an estimate. How long the magic lasts depends on how much power you expend. That's witchcraft 101! Don't you know anything?" Astar snapped.
"Of course I don't! My aunts hardly taught me any magic! Funny, I thought you knew. Didn't you and your mom keep tabs on me before you showed up?"
Astar didn't respond to that accusation.
Instead, he stood and stomped over to Beatrix, getting in her face, "I think you're forgetting who I am. I'm not one of your silly aunts. I'm here to hone your abilities. Let this be a lesson: don't run off after using me to learn a spell."
"I didn't trust you to help us get past the fence!" Beatrix argued. She knew she was being stubborn, but she couldn't stop herself from shifting the blame.
"You two need to be quiet! People will know we're hiding in here!" Jackson shushed them.
Astar lowered his voice. "Going past the fence is my job, not yours. The whole reason I'm at this school is to keep you from getting kicked out."
"How noble of you," Beatrix huffed.
"Yes. It is noble of me. Not a single vampire has messed with you since I got here."
"You may be a good bodyguard, but you suck at everything else," Beatrix said. "You've been here for months watching the perimeter. How come you never crossed paths with those horsemen?"
Astar looked thrown.
Before he could say anything, Beatrix asked, "What happened to that first Reaper you squared off with? Did you see his face? Find out who he was? Tell me what happened!"
"I scared him off. You don't need to worry about him anymore," Astar said, a bit too casually for how dire the situation was.
"So there's still two killers lurking in the woods," Beatrix pressed.
Astar's yellow eyes flicked around, as if looking for an escape from the conversation. "I'm telling you, I beat him up. He'll be too chicken to come back."
Beatrix wasn't convinced. "Why are you acting so suspicious? You beat up a seven-foot-tall Reaper and now there's nothing to worry about? You can't be serious."
"If you're thinking of going back into the woods—don't," Astar said. "I could barely hold him off. It's too dangerous to face one of them again. Unless..."
The room fell quiet as Beatrix awaited his next words.
"... unless you bind yourself to me permanently," Astar said.
Beatrix stared at him, speechless.
"If you sign your soul over to me, a Reaper can't collect it. An official devil contract will make you immortal. That way, you can investigate, confront the horsemen, whatever you want to do out there."
Heavy footsteps echoed in the hall outside Astar's dorm, steadily approaching, but the sound barely registered with Beatrix.
She glowered at the devil. "Oh ya? Then why did the Reapers ignore me earlier?"
Beatrix noticed Astar's expression change, a subtle sheen of sweat forming on his forehead.
Jackson tilted his head, lost. "They ignored you?"
Beatrix turned to Jackson. "The first Reaper rode right by me to get to you and Autumn, and I bet the second one would've done the same! They weren't interested in my soul."
"Maybe your temporary contract with Astar's already protecting you?" Jackson thought aloud.
"What? I... I don't have a claim on your soul yet," Astar wavered. "Not officially. You're as vulnerable to Reapers as anyone else..."
The approaching footsteps grew louder.
"Stop lying! You're trying to make me think handing my soul over to you is the only way to deal with those Death entities!" Beatrix scoffed. "I bet a permanent contract with you won't change a thing."
Jackson attempted to get a word in. "I don't get it. Why would the Reapers leave you alone if you're not officially bound to Astar—"
"You're making a lot of assumptions, Bee!" Astar shouted over him.
"Why haven't you exposed those murderers? Why are you playing mind games with me? Is claiming my soul all you care about?" Beatrix rattled off, seeing red. "You're such a snake!"
"Wow, the pot calling the kettle black!" Astar said, his dark eyebrows scrunching together.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"You risked your friends' safety for what? To prove a point. To prove you can handle everything alone. You only think of yourself and how things affect you," Astar spat. "You don't actually care about the monsters here. You care about getting ahead, gaining power. You and I are birds of a feather."
Beatrix stopped. The devil knew exactly which buttons to push to trigger her insecurities.
She did have something to prove: she wanted to surpass her aunts' beliefs about her. She knew she was destined for more than a typical witch. At least, she hoped she was.
More often than not, she was selfishly motivated.
"You don't care about any of the monsters here, Astar?" Autumn spoke up. She was still resting against the foot of his bed.
Everyone looked at the scarecrow.
Beatrix realized that Astar had, in fact, implied that he didn't care about anyone at Monster High.
A strong hand thudded at the door.
"Uh, shouldn't we answer that?" Jackson asked.
"I didn't mean..." Astar's eyes softened as he spoke to Autumn. "I... I care about you."
Autumn's lip quivered. "But not anyone else?" she asked. "What about Jackson? Frankie? Abbey? Toralei? You don't care about them getting killed?"
The devil looked very torn. He said nothing.
Another hard thud at the door. "Astar! I know you're in there!" said a deep voice from out in the hallway.
"Autumn, Jackson, we're leaving," Beatrix said.
Astar took hold of Beatrix's wrist. "Wait—"
Beatrix winced. Although his grasp wasn't tight, her damaged skin swelled with pain. "Agh! Let go!"
Before she could free herself from him, the door slammed open.
Grey stormed into the room. With a powerful shove, he sent Astar stumbling back.
Beatrix, Jackson, and Autumn jolted away, startled by the sudden violence.
Grey grabbed the devil by the shirt and slammed him against the wall.
"Get off her."