by Tara Fuller
Wait…protectively? Since when did the king of death have anything to do with angels? My gaze narrowed on Gwen. She looked away. Was it possible Balthazar had his own twisted love affair? The thought bothered me a whole hell of a lot more than it should have. I reached down for my blade, wishing I were in Hell so I could feel the bite of pain I deserved for even giving her a second thought.
“Is she in need of a lift to Hell?” I asked. “Because I’m not interested in anything more than that.”
Balthazar’s anger flared to life once more, and the ground rumbled beneath me. “My daughter tells me you’ve already met.”
“Your…daughter?”
Shock forced me back a step as I met Red’s impassive gaze. No…the only father an angel would know was the Almighty. How could someone so innocent and beautiful be the daughter of one of the most cold and unforgiving beings in existence?
“Despite my warnings, Gwendolyn has it in her head that she wants to see the other side,” Balthazar said. “It is your assignment to show it to her.”
“Show her?” A bitter laugh escaped me. “You’ve got to be joking. Look at her! She won’t last five minutes.”
“I’d choose my words very wisely if I were you, Easton.” A layer of frost powered past the heat of my skin and crackled up my arms. “She’ll last however many minutes in Hell as she wishes. Your existence depends on that.”
“I’m not a babysitter,” I said. “Find another way to scare her into submission.”
Gwen winced, but didn’t drop her gaze. Instead, determination filled her eyes, and her pale little hands balled into fists at her sides. Jesus…she looked like a kitten pretending to be a lion. Nothing about her was tainted. Every inch of her was perfect, from her fiery hair to her flawless skin and bottomless blue eyes. Before I could stop it, my gaze dropped to her lips. She probably even tasted sweet. Not that I cared. But I could think of a handful of creatures down south that would. I tore my gaze from her mouth and forced myself to focus on Balthazar.
“You’ve been requesting a replacement for Anaya for months. Here she is. Your job is to train her. If you don’t think you can handle the task, I’m sure I can find a more suitable assignment.”
The dangerous gleam in his eyes told me exactly what kind of assignment he’d have prepared if I refused. And refuse him was exactly what I needed to do, even if the punishment was something that would haunt me for the next millennium. Gwen didn’t belong anywhere near the death and destruction of a reaper’s existence.
“Why me?” I asked. “Why don’t you ask one of your squeaky-clean Heaven’s reapers to train her? Almighty knows it would be safer for her. Are you really willing to put her in danger just to teach me a lesson?”
“I don’t trust them to keep her safe,” he said, looking down at Gwen. “And apparently neither does she.”
Confusion stirred up the anger that had settled in my chest until I was choking on it. She trusted me to keep her safe? The girl was delusional! I was a walking land mine. I thought back to the way she touched me…the peace she’d given. She’d want to do that again. She wouldn’t be able to help herself. I couldn’t let that happen. I had to get her to realize what a mistake this was before she got any deeper.
“You want a taste of the other side, Red?” I asked.
She nodded, and Balthazar swiped his hand over his mouth and turned away. He’d probably been counting on my refusing this. That or was hoping I’d scare some sense into her and send her back begging for the only shiny white shelter she’d ever known. If that were the case, he’d come to the right man. Fear I could provide. When I was done with her, she’d never look at a reaper the same way.
I grabbed the smoking scythe at my side and dropped my eyes to the dark pit of screams creating a funnel below me. I returned my attention to Red and lifted a brow.
“What are you waiting for, Red?”
Her gaze narrowed on me, and her lips pressed into a tight line. “My name is Gwen.”
“Your name is whatever I decide to call you until you’ve figured out this isn’t where you belong.”
A fiery look flared behind her clear eyes, and I felt my lips twitch imagining the foreign feeling of anger washing through her. Watching her squirm was going to be more fun than I thought.
“Dude…what are you doing? She doesn’t belong down there,” Scout whispered.
“Right. And maybe it’s time she learned why.”
Chapter 8
Gwen
I trailed after Easton into a dilapidated house where hollow-eyed humans were draped over furniture like rag dolls. Some sobbed while others giggled hysterically, their insanity sparking emotions that ranged from rage to fear to hopeless confusion. I’d never seen a place filled with so much despair, so much wretched soullessness. I wrapped my arms around my middle and watched Easton walk right through a man curled into a ball on the floor. When I stepped over him, my stomach heaved. The thick cloud of sadness coming from him overwhelmed me.
I stopped and reached down to lay a gentle touch to his shoulder, lending him comfort. He barely twitched under my touch, and I jerked my fingers back as a foul sensation traveled up my wrist.
“You’re wasting your time,” Easton said over his shoulder. “You can’t help them. They’re too far gone. Too numb to anything that might interfere with their need to self-destruct. Save it for someone who will actually remember it.”
“What are we doing here?” I asked. “Can’t we just flash to Hell?”
Easton stopped and turned around to face me, gaze suspicious. “What’s the hurry?”
“Nothing.” The lie tasted awful in my mouth, and my throat burned with the force of it. I had to get him to agree to help find Tyler. There wasn’t another alternative. If I couldn’t get him to understand, then this was hopeless.
Easton looked me over in that way that made me feel warm and shivery all at once. “Don’t lie to me, Red. You’re not very good at it.”
I swallowed and twisted my robe between my fingers. “I…I…it’s just that Tyler is down—”
He groaned and punched the wall beside him. Plaster crumbled under his fist, and I winced. “Damn it! I should have known!”
He pointed a finger at me. I retreated a few steps as he stormed forward.
“You…” He stopped and curled his hand into a fist, dropping it to his side. “You played me, Angel. You didn’t just play me. You played Daddy Dearest, too. He’s not going to be happy about that.”
Panic gripped me, and I found myself tripping forward and grabbing on to his duster. “No! Don’t tell him. You have to help me. Please!”
Easton looked down at me, brows pulled together as if he didn’t know what to think of me. “Why?”
“I promised him,” I whispered. “You promised him, too. I heard you.”
A muscle in his jaw ticked, and he looked away from me. “You realize that even if we found him, he won’t be the same.”
“I don’t care,” I said. “We owe it to him. And you need my help.”
He laughed and raised a brow. “Oh really? How do you figure that?”
“I have a bond with him,” I said, thinking about the intense wave of pain I’d felt. Pain that had been a world away and reached me all the same. “A connection. I could help you find him.”
Easton pulled away from my grip. “No.”
“If you don’t take me…I’ll go down myself,” I said.
He tapped the blade at his side, watching me. “You’re bluffing.”
“I’m going, with or without you.” I lifted my chin. “But we both know how Father will react if he finds out you let me go on my own.”
“You have no idea what you’re asking me to do, Gwen. You’re too innocent. Too pure. I won’t be able to keep them away from you. You think the shadow demons that linger around reaps are scary, wait until you have a legion of the most twisted demons in Hell intent on stealing your pain.”
“I know what I’m asking.”
He
laughed and scrubbed his fingers through his messy black hair. “No. I don’t think you do.”
He headed to the back of the house. I stumbled after him.
“So, this connection…” he asked, hesitant. “How does it work? How close do you have to get? Miles? Inches?”
I bit my lip. “Umm…I don’t know. Pretty close, I think. I could narrow it down to a building if you got me there.”
“So, inches. Perfect,” he muttered sarcastically, as he weaved his way through the house.
“Wait…so are you going to help me or not?”
“You want into Hell, don’t you?” He looked over his shoulder and raised a brow. “You’re the one blackmailing me, remember?”
“Yes. Of course I do,” I lied. It wasn’t as if I wanted to traipse through the gates of Hell and expose myself to horrors that would haunt me for eternity. But that’s where Tyler was. And I’d made a promise. I wasn’t going to allow something as useless as fear get in my way now.
He pushed through a half-open door and stopped to scan the room. “Well, we need a soul to get in. You said you wanted to know more about death. Here’s your first lesson.”
There was nothing that could have prepared me for death. I forced myself to step forward and looked to Easton. He moved like a shadow in the night as he swept through the door. My gaze caught on a body slumped over in the corner, a needle still stuck in its arm. Dread settled in my chest, heavy and dark, like nothing I’d ever felt before. The despair in that room was like a poison fog, repelling everything inside me.
“You okay, Red?” Easton’s raspy voice broke the spell. I tore my gaze away from the body and blinked away the horror.
“Y-yes.”
“It’s not too late to turn back,” he said, grabbing hold of the top of the doorframe and leaning out to look me in the eye. “We can forget all about this. You can go back to butterfly kisses and rainbows.”
The darkness curled around him like a second skin, and the serpent tattoo on his neck writhed impatiently. It enveloped him until I couldn’t tell where his pain ended and the pain within the room began. This was his world. He was this world. And this was the only chance I’d ever get to pull him from it. After this mission to save Tyler was said and done, Father would put me back in my box, and Easton would be left out in the world. Unattainable and free. He deserved salvation. A salvation I could give him.
“And what about you?” I asked. “What do you go back to?”
His eyes narrowed on me. He released the doorframe, letting his arms fall to his sides. “I go back to doing what I do best. This.” He waved at the utter destruction around him. “I go back to being alone.”
The hollow pain in his eyes wouldn’t let me walk away. However impossible it seemed…I had to try. Filled with determination, I stepped forward and brushed past him to enter the room.
“I’m ready,” I said.
Easton looked skeptical, but finally gave in and crossed the dark room. After jerking his scythe from his belt, he knelt down beside the body and inhaled a deep breath. His violet eyes flared. He winced, tilting his head to the side as if he were listening.
“This is our guy,” he said, flatly, staring down at the body before lifting his gaze back to me. “I’m going to have to move fast once he’s out.”
I nodded, trying to appear braver than I felt. Easton stood, abruptly, and sighed. “Damn it, Red…I can’t take you down there like that.”
“Like what?” I looked over my white robe and frowned. I’d never worn anything else, never looked different for a single day since my creation. And I’d never heard anyone complain before. “How should I look?”
He stepped forward and held his arms out. “Like me. You want every filthy demon that crosses your path to be afraid of you. You can’t go to Hell looking like something on the dessert menu.”
“How do you expect me to accomplish that? I don’t exactly have access to a reaper uniform.”
“Close your eyes and imagine it,” he said. “You’re an angel, Gwen. Your powers are a hell of a lot stronger than mine. You can look however you want. You say you want to play with death? Dress the part.”
I reached out and laid a hand on Easton’s chest. He tensed. “Red…”
“Just…let me,” I said, as my fingers explored the feel of his black shirt, the muscles underneath. When my hand started to sink into vapor, I lifted my eyes to his and raised a brow. “Afraid of an angel?”
He glowered down at me, and in an instant he was corporeal beneath my hand. I tested the sturdy fabric of his duster. “Why the coat? Isn’t it hot in Hell?”
“Hot is an understatement.” His voice sounded unsteady. “It’s good to have the protection.”
“Why would you need the protection?” My hand slid inside the heavy coat and found a hard, cut chest underneath. Easton grabbed my wrist and his lungs heaved with unneeded breath.
“Because once you cross into the underworld…you’re flesh.”
I looked up at him with wide eyes. I would know what it felt like to have a body? How was that even possible? He released my hand to jerk his duster back into place.
“Wipe that look off your face, Red,” he said, his tone disapproving. “It’s not a good thing. Hurry up and change. We need to move.”
Easton raised his blade above his head. I turned away, using my need to change as an excuse to skip the horrific scene of another soul being ripped from its flesh. I closed my eyes, blocking out the awful ripping sound behind me, and smoothed my hands over my robe, imagining something edgy and dark and dangerous.
Under my fingers, the silk melted away from my body and leather weaved together. I envisioned the snug, smooth fabric that encased Easton’s legs and willed something similar to cover my own. Protection…I opened my eyes and watched a pair of heavy dark boots crawl up my calves and over my knees. Around my chest, a silky smooth fabric tightened, leaving my arms bare and glowing. I looked up to the full-length mirror on the wall across the room and gasped. Tendrils of darkness lurked all around me, curious, cautious, cringing back from my skin. I looked…I looked…
“That’s…not exactly what I had in mind, Red.” Easton stood behind me, and I watched his reflection drink me in slowly. “Turn around.”
When I turned, he shoved the dazed-looking soul he’d reaped behind him and approached me. He lifted a lock of my hair and let it slide through his fingers.
“Do I look okay?” I whispered, unsure of myself. Both of our gazes dropped to the tight black leather that hugged my body like a second skin. Easton dropped my hair and took a careful step back, shaking his head.
“‘Okay’ wasn’t the word I was searching for.” Looking away, he shoved his scythe back into his belt. “Put your hair up.”
“Why?”
“Just do it.” He grabbed hold of the soul that was slumped against the wall while I hurried to pin my hair up in a high ponytail that tickled the middle of my back.
“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” he mumbled as a swirling puddle of screams formed at his feet. He motioned for me to step forward. The oily black below us churned and spun, blowing a foul-smelling wind into my face. I cringed when Easton grabbed hold of my arm with his free hand. He met my terrified gaze, and the finality of what we were about to do seemed to register between us.
“Red…”
“Y-yes?”
He wove his arm around my waist, pulling me tight against his side. “Whatever you do, don’t let go.”
Easton pulled me over the edge…and the world beneath me fell away.
Chapter 9
Easton
The heat of the underworld exploded beneath us. Gwen’s scream was muffled against my shoulder. There were a million things that should have been running through my mind as my body snapped back together and blood roared through my veins again. How good Gwen’s hair smelled wasn’t one of them. I closed my eyes, unable to resist breathing in her wildflower scent. The feeling of her slim arms wrapped around my waist.
Her eyelashes fluttering against my neck. Jesus…I needed space.
“You can let go now,” I said, voice gruff.
Slowly, she disentangled herself from my side, her face flushed and pretty. She smoothed her hands over her snug leather pants, and part of me wished I had let her stay in that damn robe. This look was going to get us both into trouble. Gwen stumbled, and I reached out to steady her. The moment her hands grabbed hold of my arm, she gasped, as if she finally realized what was happening.
“You…you’re touching me,” she whispered.
I smirked. “That enthralling, is it?”
She blushed and pulled away, seeming more comfortable on her own two feet. “I’ve never been touched before. I’ve never…felt before.”
A hysterical laugh burst out of her and she stumbled again, looking so free and happy it took my breath away. She reached up and touched her lips, her cheeks, her hair. A flash of my hands in place of hers seared my mind. I turned away. Not going there. Ever.
Balthazar’s daughter, remember, asshole? Balthazar’s angel daughter!
One touch from my sin-soaked hands would ruin her. I tightened my grip on the soul and swallowed hard. I was not like Scout. I didn’t care about things like that. I didn’t care about her. I had a plan. A plan that included dragging Gwen through Hell, using her connection as a guide, and hopefully scaring the curiosity out of her in the process. We’d retrieve this soul, rid both of us of the guilt that came with leaving him to rot down here, and then I’d be free. I just had to keep my shit together until then and not let this place screw with my head.
“Oh God…”
I spun around. Gwen slapped her hand over her heart, breathing hard. “What is it?”
“I don’t know…” She sucked in a lungful of air and collapsed against my chest. I grabbed hold of her to keep her upright and raised a brow. “My chest…it’s tight and fluttery. What’s happening?”
“It’s called a heart, Red.” I scanned the area looking for the backpack I kept down here for trips like this. “Get used to it. They cause all kinds of trouble.”