Hell High

by Cindi Madsen

  His eyebrows arched sky-high, and I wasn’t sure if it was more from surprise or skepticism. Maybe a kiss was pushing it, especially since I’d avoided him as much as possible since our time in the courtroom.

  A soft smile spread across his face as he gave me a look of pure adoration. Since I wasn’t completely evil like him, a tinge of guilt stabbed at me. I suppressed it and rushed out of the room and down the hallway of nightmare pictures, eager to find out what made Tristan worth a personal visit from the devil.

  The keypad beeped as I punched in the code to the tech room. The door unbolted, and I slipped inside. “Bring up the profile for Tristan Slate.”

  His profile popped up, his cute face taking up most of the screen. I sat in the computer chair and scrolled down his profile, past the stuff I’d already seen, to the special note on his file.

  calming presence could be used to take away people’s guilt, helping lead them into deeper sins, unable to realize how far they’ve fallen until it’s too late.

  There were notes from before Tristan’s death, about how the angels were after him, and how if they made connection first, he would be a powerful force. That they would enlist him for his gift and influence to gain many souls for the other side.

  Holy shit. My heart thumped harder as the truth sank in. Tristan’s not here because he’s bad. He’s here because he’s good.

  Or at least could’ve been if he hadn’t made a deal with the devil.

  I clicked on the last hyperlink.

  A video feed replaced Tristan’s profile. A compact blue car drove down the street with Tristan at the wheel. His sister, Savannah, sat in the passenger seat.

  Dad strode toward the intersection the car was nearing. He paused to lean against the pole that held up the stoplights. With a snap of his fingers, the green light blinked red, no warning. Tristan was coming fast, as was the silver truck speeding from the other direction.

  Stop, stop, stop.

  The driver slammed on the brakes, and a blurry figure zoomed into the middle of the intersection. He held out his hands, bracing against the hood of the truck that barreled toward Tristan and his sister.

  What are you thinking? Whoever you are, you’re about to get squished.

  Metal encased the person I was almost sure was male, but it’d left a gap, one that kept the spot in front of Tristan from being crushed. The momentum of the truck was still going, though, and the bed spun and slammed into the passenger side of Tristan’s car, crushing it completely.

  I brought my hands up over my mouth.

  Then the man who’d put himself in the middle of the wreck leaped onto the hood, and I saw it wasn’t a man.

  Michael, the blond angel from the judgment proceedings, stood there, his profile lit up by the low-hanging sun. Since none of the onlookers seemed fazed or even pointed at him, I assumed they couldn’t see him.

  Dad sneered at the angel and approached the accordioned car. He leaned his arm on the broken driver-side window. Blood poured from a gash on Tristan’s forehead, and I could barely make out his sister on the other side of him.

  Savannah had an angelic, round face and the same sandy-colored hair as Tristan. Her leg, arm, and part of her torso were pinned in metal. She was broken and bloody, and her eyes were closed.

  Using a calm, deadly tone, Dad listed Tristan’s crimes, told him Savannah was going to die, and then gave him the option to trade his soul for hers.

  “Don’t do it,” I said even though it was way too late for that.

  The angel jumped down next to Dad and echoed my sentiment about not taking the deal. Tristan shook his head, a dazed look on his face as he studied the angel.

  Then he glanced at Savannah. His breath came out shaky, and pain and sorrow flickered through his watery eyes. He turned back to the devil himself and clenched his jaw. “Take me instead.”

  Dad extracted a piece of thick parchment and a pen from his inside suit pocket.

  The angel spoke quickly, rattling the reasons Tristan should take a moment to think about what he was doing.

  “She’ll live? And be able to walk and use her arm and hand again?” Tristan asked Dad, and I was glad that at least he was thorough enough to add that last part, because otherwise Satan could be a real bastard about the fine print.

  “I swear it,” Dad said, extending the contract toward him. “As long as you sign this.”

  Tristan grabbed the pen and scribbled his name.

  Dad took back the pen and pointed at the signature line. “Usually I make someone prick a finger, but since you’ve got enough blood to choose from, you can gather some and press it next to your signature.”

  Using his thumb, Tristan swiped the blood off his brow, pressed it to the paper, and then yanked his hand back like it was hot.

  He let out a gasp, and his skin paled.

  An evil smile split Dad’s lips. He snapped his fingers, and the metal pinning Savannah pushed out with a groaning creak.

  He reached across Tristan and put his hand on Savannah’s shoulder. The blood on her arm and leg disappeared, and the caved-in part of her torso also returned to normal.

  Seconds after Dad pulled his hand away, Savannah’s eyes fluttered open.

  “Tristan?” she asked, tears choking her words.

  Tristan coughed, and blood dripped down his chin. “No more stealing, you hear me, Savannah? The drugs, either—don’t get caught up in that. You go to church and turn your life around. Don’t end up like me. It’s my dying wish, so you’ve got to follow through.”

  Her bottom lip quivered, and tears filled her eyes. “But, Tristan—”

  He covered her hand with his and gave it a squeeze.

  Then his arm went limp, the light left his eyes, and he was gone.

  The video cut out, reverting back to the screen with Tristan’s profile.

  A tear slid down my cheek and landed on the desk. I didn’t realize I’d started to cry, and it didn’t make sense that I was. Tristan had died years before I met him.

  But still.

  He’d given up his soul to save his sister. I ran my finger down his face on the screen, positive I was already in love with him.

  And now that I’d seen the proof my bad boy was actually good—far better than I’d ever imagined…

  A shiver of desire went through me. “I am in so much trouble.”

  Thirty-Five

  The day had gone torturously slow, and as I waited for Tristan in the woods Monday after Temptress Training, I thought I was going to explode from all the waiting.

  Finally Tristan stepped into the clearing. “Sorry I’m late.” He swung his backpack around and reached into it. “I picked up a book in the library on more demons so we could figure out who tried to attack you.”

  Demons attacking me seemed like old news, especially compared to the secret waiting to burst out of me. “Okay, whatever, but before we get to that, I have to tell you something.”

  He abandoned his search for the book and looked at me.

  “It’s a sitting-down kind of conversation,” I said, and worry crept into Tristan’s features.

  I grabbed his hand and tugged him onto the blanket I’d already snapped into existence. “It’s about the day you died.”

  “Always a cheery subject,” Tristan said, forcing lightness into his voice that didn’t match his expression.

  “I started thinking about how my dad went to Earth to make the deal with you himself, and since that’s highly unusual, I decided to see why. That calming thing you do…? They want you to use it to tempt other people to sin.”

  “I know. That’s why they pushed the Tempter Training so hard.”

  I lowered my eyebrows. “You knew?”

  He nodded.

  “But did you know that angels were trying to get to you, too, which means Hell thinks you’d endanger their mission, enough that my dad caused your car wreck and talked you into making a deal. He didn’t want Heaven to get to you first.”

  As soon as it was out o
f my mouth, it hit me how strange everything I’d said was. What a lovely story that’ll make when people ask how Tristan and I met.

  Even weirder, if Dad hadn’t done what he did, Tristan and I never would have met.

  “He caused…?” The muscles in Tristan’s neck went rigid. “How?”

  “He changed the stoplights from green to red without warning. I watched that truck barreling toward you and the angel who tried to save you.” I covered Tristan’s hand with mine. “You saw him, didn’t you? Heard him tell you not to take the deal.”

  Tristan looked away, and he was quiet so long I didn’t think he was going to answer. “I heard him. I thought I was half delusional, but I… It doesn’t matter, though. The other option was letting Savannah die.”

  “There’s no way she would’ve come here, though. I really think that she would’ve been—”

  “You think I could take that chance?” he spat, and I jumped at his harsh tone. “I did what I needed to do. Everything you’re telling me doesn’t change a thing. In fact, it’s making it worse.” He adamantly shook his head. “I don’t want to know the details. It’s over and done with.”

  My rapid pulse left my head spinning, and I debated just letting it go before softly saying, “But you think you’re a bad person, and you’re not. This proves that you’re not.” I pushed to my knees and bracketed his face in my hands. “You prove that you’re not.”

  His expression was an open wound, one that echoed through me. “Like I said, it doesn’t matter. Knowing that I could’ve used my gift to do some real good…” He closed his eyes and sighed. “I’ll be here forever, and thinking about what could’ve been is only another form of torture.”

  I bit the inside of my cheek, hard enough to direct the pain flooding my chest there instead. “I’m sorry. I thought it would make you feel better.” Because it had made me feel better.

  Because it made it okay for me to want to stay here in Hell with him forever.

  Since I’d dropped the bomb yesterday about why Hell wanted Tristan so badly, he and I had put off our demon search. If it was up to me, I think I’d put it off forever.

  But Tuesday afternoon Tristan pulled an ancient leather book out of his bag and cracked it open. “I realized we were only looking at the type of demons Tempters summon to help corrupt souls, and that the demons you encountered probably do the dirty work for someone in the underworld.”

  “That’s fascinating,” I deadpanned. “You know how much I love it when you talk dirty work to me.”

  He grinned, and I took comfort in that fact. Yesterday after I’d told him the truth about his death, there hadn’t been much grinning. Desperate to hold on to the happiness, I leaned in and kissed his captivating mouth. I felt him smile against my lips.

  “You’re the worst studier ever,” he said.

  “I guess I better stick with what I’m good at then.” I slipped my hand behind his neck and deepened the kiss.

  Then a crow flew overhead, its loud caw piercing the air.

  We broke the kiss and watched it circle overhead.

  Unease tiptoed up my spine. “I swear that’s the same crow that always shows up right before trouble happens. I guess you haven’t found any demons who have trained crows?”

  “In the half second you allowed me to look at the book, no.” Tristan flipped through the yellow-tinted pages. “I should’ve studied it last night, but I had other things on my mind.”

  “You get so little free time. I’d feel bad if you spent it all studying something for me.”

  The crow made another wide circle. “I swear he’s bigger than the other crows. And his eyes…” My skin prickled. “They look almost…human.”

  Tristan glanced up, but the crow circled higher and then flew away.

  “I’m sure I’m just freaking myself out.” I tried to focus on the names and descriptions of the demons, getting more and more disturbed at how many evil beings with such power were out there.

  How do people on Earth even stand a chance? Y’all keep fighting the good fight.

  “Phegor.” I tapped the picture with his stupid red face. “This is the demon who came to Earth to bring me in. He acted all hard-core, but he made my boyfriend take off my cross necklace before—” I stopped too late, awkwardness crowding the air at the mention of Dominic. “Obviously that guy and I are… It’s not like he cared about me anyway. All he ever talked about was my body, and I was dumb enough to think that he…” I slapped my hands over my face. “Ugh, I don’t know why I can’t just shut up.”

  Tristan tugged my hands from my face. He raked his gaze over me, and my heart rate skyrocketed. As his eyes returned to mine, my insides went squishy, and with my life-giving organ still pounding like crazy, I was quickly becoming a gooey mess.

  “I don’t blame the guy for talking about your body, because you’re insanely hot,” Tristan said. “But if that’s the only thing he noticed, he missed out on how cool, smart, and funny you are.”

  Literal swooning was happening. “There you go doing the too-perfect thing again.”

  Tristan kissed the back of my hand and folded it in his. Then he jerked his chin at the image of Phegor. “So, do you think he’d hold a grudge?”

  “Dad banished him to do manual labor in one of the inner circles because of me, so yeah.” I read his bio aloud. “Grants riches, the power of discovery and invention, sows discord, and seduces them to evil through the apportionment of wealth.”

  I skipped down a few lines.

  Phegor was sent to Earth to discover if married happiness truly existed there. Rumor of such had reached the demons, but they believed people were not designed to live in harmony. Phegor's experiences in the world soon convinced him the rumor was groundless.

  * * *

  “I know this is going to sound weird, but after he served a few weeks, Dad gave me the choice to release Phegor, so of course I did. He then bowed and pledged his unwavering loyalty to me. I’m no expert on reading demons, but he seemed like he meant it, so I don’t think it’s him.”

  Tristan looked skeptical, but he hadn’t felt that pledge deep in his bones like I had. “I’m going to add him as a maybe,” he said, scribbling Phegor’s name in the notebook.

  I exhaled, and while it was heavy with frustration, plenty remained inside of me. “You might as well add the whole book as maybes.”

  Tristan opened his mouth and then abruptly glanced around. “Someone’s coming.” He shot up, pulling me along with him, and rushed toward the nearby tree line.

  “Our stuff,” I said, dragging my feet a bit.

  “Leave it.”

  “But my bag’s got the weapo—”

  Tristan yanked me behind a tree and put a finger to his lips.

  Seconds later, Abigor stepped into the clearing. He eyed the blanket and drew a dagger from his belt.

  Terrified he’d find Tristan’s bag next to mine, I shot Tristan an I’ll-handle-it look. Anyway, I hope that was what it conveyed.

  I stepped out from Tristan’s and my hiding place and affected a casual demeanor edged with a hint of surprise. “Abigor. Hey.”

  His forehead smoothed, and he lowered the dagger. “Lily.”

  Well, on the bright side, he finally called me Lily. I took large strides away from Tristan, noisy, hip-swaying ones to ensure Abigor’s attention was on me. “What are you doing here?”

  Abigor scratched the side of his head. “The weirdest thing happened. I was making my rounds, and a voice told me to go up the hill, so I came to check it out. I’m glad it’s only you, but I don’t think it’s the best idea to be out here alone.” He glanced around as if he worried something might still be lurking in the shadows, before motioning me closer with his fingers. “Why don’t I walk you home?”

  “I’m just”—I picked up the book on demons, waving it to keep his eyes on me and away from the trees—“trying to get some studying in.”

  “The suns are almost to set.”

  “I’ll get home befo
re that happens.”

  “Okay. I’ll wait for you.” Abigor put his knee on the blanket, right next to Tristan’s notebook.

  I clamped on to Abigor’s arm and tugged him back to his feet. “I’ll never be able to focus with you here, and I’m super behind.”

  He straightened, an overconfident smile on his face. “All right, my beloved. I’ll leave you to it, then.” He moved his lips near my ear, and I fought the urge to bring my shoulder up to block him. “I understand about not being able to focus. Every time I see you, being with you is all I can think about, too.”

  I patted his shoulder. “Glad you understand.” Now go away.

  “How about tomorrow after school, I show you the rest of my legions?”

  Or we could see if there’s a dentist here who could hook us up with some root canals and really go for broke. “Um, tomorrow’s… I’ve got so much catching up, and I want to be the best Temptress I can be.”

  Abigor wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me to him. He put his nose to my neck and sniffed like the sicko he was. “But it’s been days since we spent time together.”

  My skin crawled, but knowing he’d complain to Dad and I’d still have to go out with him, I said, “How about Saturday?”

  Hopefully it would also get me out of one of the horrific tasks Dad had planned for our twisted family bonding time. If the other option was retrieving souls, Abigor was definitely the lesser of the evils.

  “Saturday it is,” Abigor said, low and heavy with the insinuation of sexual escapades he’d have to go on himself.

  When he didn’t move, I stepped back as if it was the last thing in the world I wanted to do. “Goodbye, my big sexy duke.”

  I puked inside my mouth a little, but if it got him to leave, it’d be worth it. Since he was the worst ever at hints, I sat on the blanket and made a show of picking up the ancient tome.

  “Why are you studying those demons?” Abigor asked, gesturing to the book.