Paranormal After Dark

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Paranormal After Dark Page 245

by Rebecca Hamilton

“I wouldn’t know. But I suppose crazier things have happened.”

  “Tell me about it,” I muttered, absently touching the spot on my elbow where there had been a scrape. Michael had healed it on the way back to the city. He hadn’t said much after that since he was still shaken up about blacking out. I wanted to comfort him, but we were still at an impasse in our relationship. We weren’t ready for reconciliation yet, not hardly.

  “Now answer my question: why do you want to know?”

  “I’m not considering his offer,” I said. “I would never. I still want him dead and I hope it’s my doing. But he did help me and I wanted to put something to rest in my head in case I don’t make it out of this mess alive. If I have unfinished business when I die, I might stick around.”

  “Point taken. But I don’t believe that is the whole truth.”

  “Gabe—”

  “You’re trying to justify whatever interest you have in him. Don’t deny it. I can hear it in your voice. You may not love him, but he has found a way to bury himself beneath your skin and that scares you. I don’t sympathize, but I do understand what is happening, probably better than Michael does because I’ve been on Earth longer. I know what temptation feels like. He doesn’t. He’s only had eyes for you since he met you and so he is incapable of comprehending that you can be attracted to someone else, especially someone who is his polar opposite. Does that sound about right?”

  I sighed. “Why are you so damn perceptive?”

  “Comes with the territory. God’s Messenger and all that.”

  “You should be more disappointed in me.”

  “That would accomplish nothing. The important thing is that you have not given in to your desires. You still fight them. It’s admirable. Millions of women have fallen for Belial. You’re the only one who has remained strong. Don’t hate yourself for being attracted to him. Find a way to conquer it. That is all you can do for now.”

  “I’ll try my best. Thank you for listening. I’m sorry for hurting you. I really am. I love you, Gabriel, and I know I don’t say it enough. You were there for me when I had nothing. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me through the years. I wish I could pay you back somehow.”

  He let out a soft breath, one that broke my heart. “Don’t. I may not be happy with you, but I would never ask you to repay me. You’ve done enough, more than any Seer should have to do in their lifetime. And I love you as well, you sarcastic, cynical little curmudgeon.”

  I laughed, only because it was to hide the fact that he was making me cry. He always tried to cheer me up whenever things got heavy between us. “I have to go. Got that big day ahead of me.”

  “Yes, you do. Be careful, Jordan.”

  “I will. Bye.”

  “Goodbye.”

  Chapter 35

  Jordan

  I HAD ASSUMED that screwing up my marriage and getting people I loved killed had been my worst fears realized. I was wrong. Mulciber calling the shots on this little hostage exchange was much worse. Since I found out about the prophecy, I had been trying to figure out where the one thousand people in danger would come from but never came up with anything concrete. Unfortunately, it turned out to be on a boat.

  We caught a nine-hour flight to Tromsø, Norway—a city north of the Arctic Circle. Mulciber instructed us to hitch a ride on the MS Midnatsol, the largest cruise liner running past the city. She would have already boarded with Juliana at a different port and then meet us on the ninth deck just before midnight on the 31st, when the gates of Hell were the closest to open. She wanted plenty of people around to ensure her own safety and that we didn’t try to snatch the child out of her grasp in the confusion. She also demanded Belial’s presence, mostly so she could rub her supposed victory in his face. After he found this out, he called her a “cock-juggling thunder-cunt.” As much as I hated him, I agreed whole-heartedly.

  I checked my watch for what had to be the billionth time. Less than fifteen minutes to midnight. My hands were shaking, and not just from the bitter cold surrounding us. The ship drifted quietly through the frigid waters and a tiny slice of the moon reflected off of the waves it made below. I was bundled up in a huge parka with black gloves over my hands and the fruit from the tree in my left pocket. It hung close to my thigh, a heavy weight, reminding me of its importance every time it bumped into me.

  Every sound made me flinch, from the low rumbling cracks of ice chunks sliding off the occasional floe to the sound of Michael’s boots on the wooden deck as he paced behind me. Belial had paid off the crew to get us this secluded spot on the ship so late at night. Every so often, I heard a distance voice from the other side, but no one would see or hear us tonight.

  I forced myself to think about something else. Most prominently, what my life would be like if nothing in the past week had happened. I’d be lying on the couch watching TV and waiting for Michael’s call. He had this annoying habit of sneaking and changing my ringtone to something different every other week. Last week, it had been “Big Bad Handsome Man” by Imelda May. Arrogant of him, but then again, that was part of his M.O. Lauren always made fun of me when she overheard whatever ridiculous new song he picked.

  Not that he was any better, mind you. His ringtone for me was currently “Fascinating New Thing” by Semisonic. He was a sucker for smart teen comedies. On a more disturbing note, I’d caught a bit of my ringtone on Belial’s personal cell for the temporary phone he got me—“I Can’t Decide” by Scissor Sisters. Typical.

  The cold feeling in my lungs sprouted through my veins as my thoughts drifted back to Lauren. She’d never forgive me for what I’d done. Lauren loved hard, but she hated being lied to. Her sorry ass ex-husband had ensured that she built a wall around her heart and if anyone dug their way out, they were out for good. I couldn’t help wondering what she had told Lily, if she had lied to her if the child overheard the news or if she told her the truth. It was a situation I couldn’t picture in my head, having to decide whether to tell your daughter if her Auntie Jordan was a murderer. She would have to be the strongest mother alive to choose either path. I admired her for that, even now.

  “Keep pacing and you’ll wear a hole in the boat,” Belial’s smooth voice interrupted my morose thoughts. He was leaning against the railing to my right, tracking Michael’s tight circle a few feet away. I simply couldn’t quantify how he could be so damn calm with hell literally about to break loose in several minutes. His “perfectly sculpted” ass would be on the line too, but I couldn’t tell in the least if he cared. Belial always had a backup plan, after all.

  Not surprisingly, Michael ignored him. Even in the moonlight, I could see the dark spots beneath his eyes. He too hadn’t been sleeping well, and the jet lag from all our recent flights meant he was running on empty just like I was. I had urged him to try and rest, but he wouldn’t listen. I couldn’t blame him. With so much at stake, I hadn’t slept either.

  Belial sighed out a stream of smoke, the lit tip of the cigarette becoming a tiny orange beacon in the darkness the next time he inhaled. He caught me looking and smirked.

  “What? No comments from the Peanut Gallery?”

  I glared. “Got nothing to say to you.”

  “Really? Would you rather I fill the silence?”

  “No. Keep your tongue behind your teeth where it belongs.”

  He licked his lips, the smirk widening into a grin as he flicked the used cig over the side of the ship. “You know exactly where my tongue belongs.”

  Anger flared through my upper body, warming me up in an instant. I took a deep breath, fighting the urge to punch him. “I cannot express how not in the mood I am right now.”

  “Not in the mood, you say? I don’t recall that being a problem the other night.”

  I froze. He wouldn’t dare bring that up. Not now.

  Michael stopped pacing, tilting his head enough to cast a suspicious eye over the two of us. “What’s he talking about?”

  “Nothing,” I said through my teeth. “He
’s just trying to push my buttons.”

  Belial laughed—a soft, intimate sound in the dark. “Which ones? The ticklish spot beneath your right ear or the one behind your left thigh? And I seem to recall an especially sensitive one between your—”

  I launched myself at him before he could finish the sentence. “You son of a—”

  Michael’s arm looped around my stomach, holding me back just in time. My fist missed Belial’s nose by mere inches. I opened my mouth to finish screaming obscenities at the smug bastard, but then a sultry female voice cut through the air, catching my attention.

  “Am I interrupting?”

  I stared past Belial’s shoulder to see Mulciber walking towards us from the other end of the deck, half of her swathed in shadows. She wore a brown mink coat and black gloves. One hand was wrapped around Juliana’s wrist. She led the child and as they got closer, I could see the little girl’s red-rimmed eyes and wet cheeks. The wound in my heart reopened and bled at the sight.

  “Juliana,” I whispered before I could help myself. She spotted me and tried to run forward, but Mulciber jerked her backwards. I instinctively tried to move towards her, but Michael held me in place, his tall form rigid against my back like a pillar.

  “I’m so happy to see you made it here in one piece,” the female demon purred, keeping a secure four feet away from us.

  “You must be awfully tired with that fruit burning a hole in your pocket.”

  She stretched out her hand, smiling. “Allow me to unburden you.”

  Michael kept me in his grip, seeming unsure of what I’d do on my own, and spoke. “The girl first, then you get your damned prize, demon.”

  She shook her head, scattering dark strands of hair across her face. “Sorry, but that’s not how it works in the hostage world. It’s time for Jordan to do her job.”

  “I’m not doing shit until you let her go,” I snarled.

  She sighed, a bored sound, but I knew it was just an act. Then, in a blur of movement, she reached down and broke Juliana’s pinky finger. The four-year-old screamed, a high-pitched wail that echoed off the water, and I lost control of myself.

  “You fucking bitch, I’ll kill you!”

  Michael wrapped both arms around me as I struggled with every inch of my strength to get to her, to rip out her eyes and throw them into the ocean, to tear out her ribs and spear her lungs with them, to set her on fire and bathe in the ashes. I hated her more than anything on this earth. I would see her burn. I would make her pay.

  In my rage, I bellowed out the only coherent thought in my mind.

  “Gabriel, take the goddamn shot!”

  His voice echoed in my ear, three words, all firm with resolve. “You got it.”

  Mulciber’s brown eyes widened for a millisecond before a gunshot ripped through the clearing. A cloud of blood exploded out of one side of her skull as the bullet tore through the bone and grey matter, splattering it on the shiny wooden floor. Juliana fell to the side, curling up into a ball by the railing, too hurt and scared to move. Mulciber’s body twitched and slumped over, her eyes rolled back until only the whites showed.

  Michael finally let me go. I raced towards the broken child, scooping her up in my arms and hugging her with all my might. I buried my face in her curly hair, sobbing and not caring that Belial would see my weakness.

  “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry,” I whispered over and over again, rubbing her back to try and soothe her. Behind me, I caught snippets of Belial and Michael’s conversation.

  “You failed to mention the sniper rifle.”

  “It was on a need-to-know basis.”

  “What kind of ammo did you use?”

  “Silver blessed from the Pope himself. So don’t try anything funny if the mood strikes you.”

  Once I composed myself somewhat, I turned my head. “Guys, we need to get Juliana to a doctor as soon as possible.”

  The girl shifted in my arms, catching my attention. She spoke, and I was surprised that it was in perfect English. “That won’t be necessary.”

  I drew back, trying to see her face. “What did you say?”

  She opened her eyes and then I saw them. Her pupils.

  They were slits.

  Mulciber had just possessed Juliana.

  Then, a second later, I felt a knife beneath my chin. She held a wicked curved blade that was almost larger than her entire forearm yet slender enough to fit in a child’s coat pocket. I didn’t move an inch, staying where I knelt next to her previous body.

  I couldn’t see Michael or Belial behind me, but I knew both of them hadn’t moved either when they realized what was happening. Mulciber kept one hand on the back of my neck, forcing me to hold her in my arms because if I let go, she’d slit my throat.

  “Now, then. I wasn’t finished,” she said in the Brazilian child’s delicate voice. “Jordan is going to be lowered into a lifeboat. We will go out to the Leviathan’s resting place and awaken it. Once this is done, you’re all free to burn like the insects you are.”

  “Listen to me, you antediluvian, scum-sucking mammet,” Michael said in a slow, low voice that carried the threat of death on its back. “You put that knife down and let her go or so help me God, I’ll rip your pathetic soul out of that girl and decorate the lowest level of Hell with its entrails.”

  “Pretty words, Mikey, but harmless.” She faced me, jerking her head upward. “Stand. And if one word of Latin exits any of your lips, I’m gonna carve my name into her jugular.”

  I stood up one painful inch at a time, keeping a death grip on her borrowed body. She was right. The angle of the knife meant I couldn’t talk without it scraping my throat, making an exorcism impossible on my part or Michael’s. Gabriel was perched on an ice floe several yards away, too far to perform one himself.

  “Gabriel?” Michael spoke into the link he and I shared in our ears.

  “No shot. She’s too damned close. I’d hit Jordan.”

  Mulciber was near enough to hear his response with her clinging to me like a limpet. She giggled, a horrible sound coming out of Juliana’s mouth. “Told you so. Now then, Belial, would you kindly lower the lifeboat for us?”

  I still couldn’t see him, but I could hear the utter contempt in his tone. “I’m not your whipping boy, bitch.”

  “I’d never accuse you of being such, but since you’re in love with Little Miss B-Cups, I suggest you do what I tell you to do unless you’d like to watch her die...again.”

  Silence. Nothing but the lapping sounds of the waves against the side of the ship. Would he let her murder me? It all came down to this. Belial had killed me once. Was twice enough?

  Then, he walked past us in a quick, angry stride to head for the end of the ship with the emergency lifeboats on them. We were on Deck Nine and the boats were attached to the side of Deck Six, meaning we’d have to go down the stairs.

  Michael shoved Mulciber’s former body into the ocean and cleaned up the mess the best he could. He stepped forward, as if to follow us, but Mulciber spoke again. “Ah, ah, ah, pretty boy. You’re staying put. And this time, I mean it.”

  She looked at me. “Put him under a blood spell. I hear you’re good at those.”

  My blood ran cold. “No.”

  She dug the blade in harder. Another millimeter and I’d bleed out. I glowered at the demon. “Go sit on a knife, you sack of vaginal discharge.”

  Mulciber started to press on my neck again, but Michael spoke before she could. “Jordan.”

  I turned a bit, enough to see him. Half of his face was cast in shadow, but I could still see the pain and the anger in it anyway. “Do it.”

  “Michael—”

  He shook his head only once. “I can’t watch you die. Not again. Just do it.”

  A lump formed, one so large I could barely swallow it as I stepped towards him. Tears stung in the back of my eyes as I raised my left wrist enough for Mulciber to cut it. Blood spilled outward, soaking my glove, hot and stic
ky.

  I lifted my arm and pressed my hand to his chest, my voice trembling. “With blood, I bind you to this spot. Walk no more until the spell is broken.”

  Red light shot outward from the handprint on his chest and he buckled to his knees, his face contorted, but he didn’t cry out. So much pain and it was all my fault. For a fleeting second, I thought about letting Mulciber kill me. Anything was better than facing the fact that Michael was in agony at my feet once again.

  “Much better,” Mulciber simpered. “Now get moving. And Gabriel, dearest, you had better keep your distance or I’ll make you join him.”

  She motioned for me to walk and I followed Belial towards the other end of the ship. Now that we were risking being seen, Mulciber moved the knife down from my neck and held it between her body and mine, the tip digging in under my left breast. One quick plunge upward and I’d be dead on the spot.

  “I don’t get it,” I said under my breath as we descended the stairwell. “Demons aren’t supposed to be able to possess people without the mind breaking down.”

  “Demons cannot possess adults with ease, but children are different,” Mulciber answered with the utmost smugness as I walked. “Their personalities and minds are soft and malleable. Your precious Juliana has already suffered massive amounts of trauma. Taking her over was a cakewalk.”

  “I hope you’re enjoying this because it doesn’t matter if the Leviathan rises or not. I will take my sweet time killing you.”

  “I look forward to it,” the female demon replied.

  At last, we reached Deck Six. The rowboats were massive and hard to maneuver, but Belial was no slump so he could handle it on his own. He said nothing as he worked, his face unnervingly blank. I almost wanted to hear him mock me or say something disparaging to the beast holding me hostage, but then a frightening truth hit. For the first time ever, Belial might have accepted the fact that we weren’t going to win this battle. I wanted him to have a backup plan like he always did, an Ace up his sleeve, but this time, he met me with nothing but silence. We couldn’t win. We just couldn’t.

 

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