by Tara Fuller
“I’m not here for a delivery.” His voice dropped, and the danger that rumbled behind it made my hair stand on end.
The demon laughed. “Then what are you here for? A show? Perhaps a little pain?”
I scrambled forward on my knees, as far as Scout would let me go, and peeked through a crack in the barrels. Easton stepped forward, his face a mask of cold cruelty. Something inside my chest twisted painfully at the sight of it. He looked…like a stranger. He looked like one of them. I forced myself to keep watching, ignoring the sick feeling brewing in my gut.
“At the moment?” He cocked his head to the side, inspecting the shadow of a demon. “Your head will do.”
He didn’t give the demon time to react. There was a blur of movement and Easton’s blade sliced through his neck. A surprised look registered on the demon’s face a second before his head fell off and he crumpled to the ground in a heap. I slapped my hand over my mouth to hold back a horrified scream.
“Great,” Scout muttered, climbing to his feet. “Your boyfriend’s gone off the deep end.”
I followed him around the barrels to where Easton stood staring down at the demon’s head. His knuckles were white around the hilt of his blade, and he was breathing hard. As I touched his arm, he seemed to come out of a trance.
“What the hell was that?” Scout hissed.
“She was going to feel that.” He pointed to the chain saw lying on the ground. “You expect me to sit back and let it happen?”
“I expect you to keep a low profile,” Scout said. “Get the kid and get out. Quick and quiet. That was the plan.”
A muscle in Easton’s jaw ticked. “It still is.”
“That”—Scout pointed to the beheaded demon—“is not quick and quiet. That is you letting this thing with the angel get in the way of a job.”
Easton shoved his scythe back into its holster, ignoring Scout. He turned, grabbing me by the arm and dragging me behind the row of barrels, out from under the eyes of Scout and the souls hanging all around us.
“What are you—”
He kissed me. He kissed me with a kind of desperation that took my breath away. I whimpered and melted against him, into him. The heady butterfly feeling consuming me was almost too much on the heels of all that fear. He pulled away to allow me the breath my lungs demanded and took my face in his hands. Pressing his forehead against mine, a long breath shuddered out of him.
“You have to stop running away from me,” he said, voice tight. “If something happened to you…”
“You needed someone to distract them,” I said. “They were hurting you. They were going to…”
Tears stung my eyes at the mere thought of the things they would have done to him. If I could spare him that, I would have taken on all the pain in Hell. Easton had already endured so much already. He didn’t deserve any more. If I’d known the truth about this place, this reaper, I would never have asked him to come here. I would have done everything in my power to make sure he never came back here again.
“It doesn’t matter what they were going to do to me,” he said. “Nothing is more important than you being safe.”
I shook my head. “Because I’m Balthazar’s daughter.”
He took my chin in his hand and forced my eyes back to his.
“Because you’re mine.”
Chapter 23
Easton
We’d found him.
I looked up at the kid hanging from a hook, lifeless, limp, broken, and bruised. For the first time since I’d been delivering the damned to Hell, I felt bad for it. I didn’t know this kid, but I knew he didn’t deserve this. Not if he’d lived the kind of life that had earned him a ticket past the pearly gates.
“Easton?” Gwen’s sweet voice broke as it came from the doorway, echoing off the frosted metal walls. “He’s in there, isn’t he? I can feel him.”
I did not want her to see this. It was why I wished she had let me do this alone. I looked away from Tyler and turned to see her breath cutting through the darkness like crystallized fog.
“He’s here.”
She rushed into the small, isolated room before I could warn her and stumbled to a stop when she spotted him dangling from the ceiling. She exhaled, a sick, pained sound that cut through me like a knife. Her attention dropped to the pool of frozen blood beneath him.
“Get him down,” she choked, doubling over. “Get him down, please!”
I dragged over a metal crate and climbed on top to get my hands up under the boy’s shoulders. Despite being stiff and cold, he was still in there. An agonized groan slipped past his blue lips as I jerked upward to remove him from the hook. Gwen made a strangled sound behind me, and I cringed.
“Are you okay?” I asked over my shoulder.
“Just do it,” she whispered.
I nodded, jaw clenched so tight pain spiked through my right temple. Shoving up again with everything I had, the hook finally slipped out. His weight came down on me, knocking me back. I hopped off the crate just as it slipped out from under my boots, and I caught Tyler around the middle before lowering him to the ground.
Gwen rushed to his side, tears glistening on her cheeks. She touched his face, and he flinched away from her fingers, eyes squeezed tight. His face was pale, lips cracked and bloody. His teeth chattered as he curled into himself against the floor.
“Oh, Tyler,” she whispered. “What did they do to you?”
“Don’t ask him that,” I said. “Ever. You won’t want to know, and he won’t want to remember.”
She stared down at him solemnly, stroking his hair, and nodded. Her fingers pressed against his temples before she closed her eyes. The pretty flushed color drained from her cheeks. Her body began to quake with the pain she was pulling out of him. I stepped back and shoved my fingers into my hair, forcing myself not to interrupt.
I hated this. Hated seeing her hurt. But this was who she was. Her father tried at every turn to keep her from being free, and she resented him for it. But how the hell was I supposed to stand by and watch her do this to herself?
“Gwen…” I dropped to a knee beside her and placed a hand on her back, wishing I could take it from her. For her. “That’s enough for now.”
She shook her head. “He needs to be able to walk out of here.”
Tyler groaned beneath her, his hands clutching at her shoulders, out of his mind and greedy for relief. Gwen gasped as a fresh wave of darkness overwhelmed her. Her eyes dimmed and a sob slipped free. He’d drain her if she let him.
Screw the kid not being able to walk out of here. I pulled her free from his grip and dragged her away from his recovering body. Gwen fought me, reaching, crying.
“No! I didn’t take enough!”
“You took plenty,” I said through gritted teeth.
Tyler pulled himself up onto his knees, coughing before falling back to his stomach on the frozen concrete.
“He can’t even stand,” she said.
“Then I’ll carry him,” I said. “You’re done, Gwen.”
“But—”
“Him I can live without, Gwen.” I swallowed hard as I looked down at her. Cheeks pink with bloody tears. Eyes dim and dark with pain. “Not you. I can’t… Don’t ask me to. Okay?”
She nodded and wiped her tears with the back of her hand. I couldn’t look at her right now. Not when she was so willing to sacrifice herself. So willing to leave me, just so this kid could live.
I stood over Tyler, watching him heave and relearn how to work his legs, which had probably been broken before Gwen worked her magic on him. I strained to hear what was happening outside the room. Scout had been outside guarding the door, giving us time. I walked over to a wall and knocked three times with the handle of my blade, then waited for him to give me the signal that all was clear.
He didn’t answer.
Damn it, Scout.
I stalked back over to the kid on the floor and grabbed him by the arm, hauling him to his feet. While he found his balance, h
e cried out in pain before I allowed him to use me as support.
“Don’t hurt me, please,” he whispered. “I can’t. I can’t. I can’t. I can’t…”
He dissolved into hysterical sobs. Gwen’s eyes grew wide and she placed her hand over her mouth, no doubt feeling the horror he felt. I knew this kid. I’d been this kid. If I could get over it, he could, too.
“Hey,” I said sternly. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m going to help you. Do you hear me? You still in there, kid?”
He flinched when I leaned down to look him in the eye. He nodded, weakly, and swallowed back another round of sobs.
“I’m still here,” he said brokenly. “I’m still here. I’m still—”
“You’re still Tyler,” Gwen spoke up as she rose on unsteady feet and made her way over to us. She touched his cheek, and he opened his eyes, blinking away the haze.
“We need to get out of here,” I said to Gwen. I hated seeing her touch someone else. I decided to get the hell over it. She may be touching him, but she didn’t look at him the way she looked at me. She looked at him the way my mother used to look at me when I was a boy. With unconditional, self-sacrificing love. She reached around me to my pack and dug for the canteen.
“He needs to drink first,” she said.
“I’m serious, Gwen,” I said, quietly, trying not to rattle the kid. “Scout’s not answering. Something’s not right out there.”
She placed the canteen to Tyler’s lips. He gulped and choked down a few sips before she pulled away and shoved it back into my pack. Her eyes met mine, flooded with fear.
“We aren’t going to just walk out of here, are we?” she asked.
“No.”
I hadn’t expected to. I’d just hoped against all hope that we could catch a small break. Gwen took a deep breath and slid under Tyler’s other arm and nodded, signaling she was ready. Just like that. She was terrified, and yet she didn’t hesitate. She was ready to take on the unknown and whatever danger that came with it. She was brave. She was tough as nails. And it was a freaking shame her father didn’t see how different the world could be if he allowed someone like Gwen to simply exist outside the walls he kept her in. To reach out to the darker parts of the world like other angels were allowed to do. I’d never admired someone as much as I admired Gwen. She was so good, so kind, and pure, and beautiful. And she loved me. In what kind of world did someone like her love someone like me?
“What is it?” she asked, confused and weary under the weight of everything I wasn’t saying.
“I love you, Gwen,” I said. “That’s it. I just…I love you.”
Something inside me shifted as I said the words. Pieces fell into place. My chest was full and achy like there wasn’t enough room for everything I was feeling.
Gwen loved so many people. They didn’t even have to do anything to earn it. They just had to exist. Give her a smile and she’d love them, live for them, die for them. It’s who she was. But the look on her face told me she didn’t hear the words thrown back at her very often. And she definitely hadn’t expected them from me.
I started forward, not giving her chance to say anything back. Not giving myself a chance to ruin what I’d just given her. She stayed silent in her thoughts as she hobbled along next to Tyler.
“Why are you helping me?” Tyler’s gravelly voice asked.
“Because you don’t belong here,” I said. “You don’t deserve this.”
“Tyler?” Gwen interrupted as we crossed through the dark warehouse full of frozen bodies on hooks. “Close your eyes, okay?”
“I’ve seen it,” he said. “It’s better than what I see when I close my eyes.”
I knew exactly what he meant. That kind of horror stuck. It embedded itself into your soul. Became a part of you. This kid would never close his eyes again without reliving it over and over again. I’d never been through the gates of Heaven, but I doubted even the gilded purity of that place could wash it all away. He may be leaving Hell, but he’d never really escape it.
We reached the propped-open door, and I stopped Gwen and Tyler. The sound of water dripping echoed through the room. Hooks creaked and souls moaned. I didn’t hear Scout. There was no way I was walking Gwen and this kid out into an ambush. I slid my blade from its holster and knocked three times on the door and waited.
Three knocks answered back.
I closed my eyes and leaned against the door, sending a silent prayer to the big man upstairs. I didn’t do it often. I didn’t do it ever, really. But I did it now. I turned back to Gwen and slid my arm under Tyler.
He shrugged me off and cast his eyes downward, not making eye contact. “I can do it.”
He didn’t want to be touched. He wouldn’t want to be touched for a long time. Gwen stepped away, looking a little weaker than she had when we’d walked out of the room. I should have known. She’d been draining herself the entire walk back. I flashed her a disapproving look, but she lifted her chin.
“Stubborn,” I muttered.
“You like it when I’m stubborn.”
I grabbed her hand, needing to touch her. I needed a whole lot more than that. I needed her safe. But that wasn’t going to happen right now. Not here, anyway. I looked down at our linked fingers and for a split second I wondered what it would be like to hold her hand outside the walls of Hell. Out in the open where anyone could see. I shouldn’t have. That was never going to happen. We walked through the doorway, and Tyler hobbled behind us. Darkness enveloped the world around us. Emptiness suffocated us. I released Gwen’s hand and turned a slow circle.
“Scout?” I called, my voice echoing back to me like an answer.
Footsteps clicked across the cobblestones, and every part of me tensed at the sight of yellow eyes lighting up the dark. The imp limped into the flickering firelight and grinned. Two large demons followed close behind, dragging an unconscious Scout behind them.
“Cyril?”
The imp’s hungry gaze darted to Gwen and Tyler, then back to me. A sick kind of glee lit his face as he pulled out a deck of cards and waved them at me.
“You owe me a game, reaper.”
Chapter 24
Gwen
The imp standing before me wasn’t as menacing as the ones behind him, but the greedy look in his yellow eyes set off a spark of fear in my chest. My heart raced as I watched the silent standoff happening between the reaper I loved and the goons holding Scout hostage. A muscle in Easton’s jaw ticked and dark anger circled him like a cloud, building, pulsing, burning. It reminded me of one of Father’s storms, the quiet just before he unleashed his otherworldly fury on any who challenged his authority. Easton held that same kind of ferocity in him, a dangerous power just waiting for a spark to set it off.
“You don’t usually bring an entourage with you for a game,” Easton said to the imp, voice brittle and tense.
The imp smiled, and a low hiss rose from his throat. His gaze raked over me, slowly, like a touch. I wrapped my arms around my middle, feeling sick at the way he was looking at me. Backing up, I knocked elbows with Tyler, who grabbed hold of my arm. His fear, his dread, wrapped around me, suffocating me.
“And you don’t normally bring ssssuch a pretty prizzzze,” he hissed.
“She’s not a prize,” Easton said. “She’s a recruit.”
The imp cackled and clapped his hands. “I love it when you lie. It comes ssssooo natural to you, reaper. You think we can’t smell what she is?”
Easton’s knuckles blanched white around the handle of his blade. He was so close to going over the edge. I could feel him trying to rein it in. Keep the situation under control. We were outnumbered here.
“Let’s get this over with, Cyril,” Easton said, holding out his arms. “You wanted a game. Let’s play.”
The imp’s eye twitched and he snorted, wiping his mouth with his wrist. “Stakesss.”
“You want something more than your precious stones.” Easton smirked.
“I want her.” He ext
ended a slimy clawed finger toward me and grinned, licking his lips.
“Not going to happen,” Easton said, taking a step closer. There was a dangerous edge to the way he moved. The imp seemed to notice. He scowled and retreated back, closer to the safety his demon goons provided.
“I don’t want the other one,” he said, casting a disgusted look at Tyler. “He’sss all usssed up. But her…I want her.”
“You win, and you can have me,” Easton said, holstering his blade. “I win, you give me Scout and help us get the hell out of here.”
“No!” I started forward, and Easton held out a hand to stop me. He cocked his head and raised a brow, never taking his eyes off the imp.
“What’s it going to be, Cyril?” he asked. “Don’t tell me you couldn’t make good use of me. Just think of all of the paying customers down here who would hand over a limb to get a crack at me.”
The imp stroked his chin, and a triumphant grin spread out over his hideous face.
“Deal.”
He turned and shuffled down the alley, his demons trailing behind him. Easton followed. I ran after him, grabbing his arm, allowing his heat to singe me. That heat meant he was still safe. Still with me. But for how long?
“What do you think you’re doing?” I whispered.
“I’m going to win a card game,” he said, simply, confident. Almost cocky. “Then I’m going to get us the hell out of here.”
“This is insane. What if he wins? You can’t expect me to just leave you. I won’t. I can’t.” Tears burned my eyes, and I was thankful for the darkness concealing my face as we turned a corner. Thankful for the fact that Easton couldn’t see how afraid and weak and helpless I felt inside.
Stopping at a door, Easton turned to me. His violet eyes burned a path through the dark to me, fierce and unwavering. “I play him all the time, Red. I never lose, and I’m not going to start today. This is our only way out of here. You have to trust me.”
“I want to,” I whispered. “But…”
He leaned down and captured the rest of my doubts between his lips in a brief kiss, infusing me with his heat, his love. For once, he was the one giving me comfort. Taking my worry and pain. He brushed the hair back from my face.