Cat's Claw by Amber Benson

that he had accidentally slipped off the edge of the cliff, but still, can you say creepy, anyone?
    Needless to say, Clio and I weren’t all that supercrazy about hanging out by the benches anymore, so that part of the yard stopped being our favorite place to play in, which I think really pleased my mother. She was always afraid that we were gonna fall off the cliff face or something equally horrible.
    This absurd fear of my mother’s was something that just didn’t compute with me because I’d known my family was immortal from a reasonably early age, and I really didn’t understand what difference falling off a cliff made in the grand scheme of things. Maybe it was just a little vestigial humanness left inside my mother that hadn’t worn off yet, or maybe she was just a nut about people’s body parts remaining intact.
    Who knows?
    Anyway, to this day, whenever I look at the benches sitting out on the headland covered in firm pink leaves, I get the willies.
    Barring the “accidental” death of the talented young landscape designer, the day Sea Verge was completed was as glorious a day as there ever was in Newport. People from all over the island trooped up to see the finished project, marveling over the beautiful limestone façade and the overflowing gardens of sweet-smelling flowers and greenery. It was the beginning of an era in Newport. Over the next few decades, the town would see Bellevue Avenue and its surrounding areas become a bastion for the highborn and the nouveau riche—a place where money was an anodyne to whatever eccentricity made its home there.
    In the end, Sea Verge was exactly as Sophia had imagined it in her mind that feverish night of creation. She felt so much love for the house and its sprawling gardens that she lived there until the very day she died.
    I looked at my watch and saw that my time was almost up. I stood up stiffly, my butt sore from the long sit on cold stone, and stretched. As much as I hated going back down to Hell, I knew it was a necessary evil. I would go and see Cerberus, find out what he wanted—if it was the favor, I would do it, and if it concerned Runt, well, I would beg on my hands and knees to keep her if I had to. Having sorted out in my mind how I intended to deal with the Cerberus situation, I began the long march through the gardens and back up to the house.
    It was only when I was halfway to the back door that I realized I hadn’t thought of Daniel once since I’d left Clio’s room.
    It wasn’t a huge victory, I decided, but it was a start.

six

     
     
    I did not like Hell.
    It was hot and sticky and extremely good at ruining whatever outfit you happened to have on. And since I hadn’t known a trip to Hell was on the day’s agenda when I got dressed that morning, I had not known to attire my person accordingly.
    In fact, I’d been feeling so good about myself when I’d woken up that morning that I’d forsaken my usual Juicy sweats (my Saturday ritual) for a cute little “impulse buy” Missoni sweater I’d gotten on sale at Loehmann’s, pairing it with a pair of black, stretchy stovepipe Seven Jeans that I just adored because they always made my butt look way rounder than it actually was.
    The feeling of contentedness continued as I admired my clothing selection in the bathroom mirror. I looked so well dressed and put together that it gave me the confidence to take out the new taupe Steve Madden high-heeled boots I’d just bought (with money squeezed out of my already too tight food budget) and had promised myself I would return, unworn, for a complete refund. As I stared at the beauties, I decided that food could be forgone—I didn’t really need to eat lunch for the next two weeks, did I?—but a good pair of boots that went perfectly with any choice of ensemble, well, they were worth the forced starvation I was now going to have to endure. Besides, there was always my favorite place at work, the kitchen, to save me from complete anorexia. I