by Kristie Cook
“You’re going back to Hell.”
As though hearing the words from her rather than myself made the prospect more real, fear suddenly grabbed hold of my soul and twisted it up. What was I thinking, wanting to go back to Hell? Hadn’t I already lived through enough of it? The memories of the desperate screams of souls and the beasts that tried to eat my own nearly suffocated me. But my poor husband was still suffering through it. And if what Bree said was true, I was about to lose him forever to it. I had to go to Hell.
“I know.” I nodded while expelling a long breath. “I was planning on it.”
“You have your physical body with you this time,” she said. “Any injuries you sustain are permanent. You may not heal completely, if you even survive. And if you die here, nobody can save you.”
I pressed my lips together as I let this warning set in. But what good was my body if my soul was damaged beyond repair? “I don’t care. He’s the other half of my soul. And he doesn’t belong here.”
“No, he doesn’t.”
“Then I’ll save him.”
She nodded. “Okay, then. I’ll take you down as far as I can go.”
“What’s the plan?”
She shrugged. “You’ll have to find him, convince him to come with you, and fight your way out.”
My eyes bugged. “That’s it?”
My life and soul—and Tristan’s—were in mortal danger, and that was her plan? She didn’t answer me. Golden wings sprang from her back, and her hand encircled my wrist as it had before when she’d rescued us from the warlock. Without any warning, she launched us off the edge of the cliff. My wings covered hers as we soared downward, colliding into the heat that waved off the lava.
“Use your wings to protect you,” Bree yelled at me, letting go of my wrist as we headed straight for the burning river. “It’s an entrance to Hell, so we’re going to dive through it.”
“Oh, crap,” I muttered as I pulled my wings around me to enclose my entire body. They hardened right before I plunged into the lava. The warmth surrounded my wings, but didn’t penetrate them, and they didn’t burst into flames. The thickness of the lava slowed my descent down, and I began to wonder at Bree’s so-called plan. What if I didn’t make it through? Surely she wouldn’t have set me up for failure when her son’s soul was at risk. Would she? Was she any better than the Angels?
Cooler air surrounded me. Far from cold, but not as hot as the lava.
“Okay, you’re through,” Bree said, and I opened my wings.
Darkness surrounded us, but the familiar odors of Hellfire and Demons greeted me, sending my emotions spiraling as panic tried to take over. A fear-filled voice in the back of my mind screamed at me to turn around, to save myself before it was too late. But saving myself was impossible if it meant abandoning Tristan. Again. I shut that voice off as we continued our descent downward until we came to a land bridge that I thought might have been the same one I’d left Tristan on. But he was nowhere to be seen.
We landed on the edge of the lava rock, overlooking the fiery lake below. The distant light shone on Bree’s face, revealing features that were close to what you’d think a faerie should look like—large, upward tilted eyes, a pointier nose and chin, and elongated and pointy ears protruding through her golden hair.
“He’s fallen farther down,” she said. “But my part ends here. You need to get through to him, Alexis. If anyone can, it’s you.”
My heart stammered with fear, but I nodded. “I’ll save him, Bree. Or die trying.”
“Focus on your love and your—” Her body suddenly jerked into the air, and she was sucked away into the blackness beyond the bridge, screaming what sounded like “fae.”
“Bree!” I yelled, springing after her, but unable to catch her hands that reached out for me.
Her golden hair and eyes disappeared, swallowed by the blackness.
Chapter 10
“BREE!” I screamed again as I flew after her, but she was gone.
My heart hammered against my ribs as my stomach sank away. I landed back on the land bridge, trying to catch a breath but unable to. What had I done? She shouldn’t have been here! I should have remembered Stacey’s story about the faeries disappearing. Did Satan have her now? Crap! I should have known better than to let her come this far with me. What was going to happen to her? Tears stung my eyes at the possible answers, all of them evil. She was in Hell. And it was all my fault. She had probably known better herself and had come anyway, but I could have stopped her. Maybe. I could have at least tried, if I’d only been thinking. Instead, war had probably claimed another casualty. A war I’d refused to fight anymore, yet it continued on, taking people I loved.
I wouldn’t let her efforts be in vain. I wouldn’t let it take Tristan, too.
I dove off the land bridge, farther down into Hell, the burning lake coming closer by the half-second. At the last moment, I veered up and soared across it, searching for my Tristan. I felt out for him with my mind at first, but my telepathy only worked down here when Satan wanted it to, so I pressed my fingers to the faerie stone in my chest and reached out with my soul instead, hoping it would find its mate.
I so did not want to have to face Satan, but when the wails and howls of souls filled my ears again, I wasn’t sure which was worse. Horrific images began to flash in and out of my vision. The deep agony of all of the souls in the lake were like three-ton blocks of cement, weighing me down.
“Did you missss me that much?” a slithery voice hissed in my head.
I ignored him, focusing my search on my husband. There. My soul caught it—our connection—and pulled me to the right and down. I followed the sensation, skimming over the lake barely out of reach of the hands that extended from the burning lava, grabbing for me. When I thought I was about to careen into a stone wall, I saw the opening. I flew through the pitch-black tunnel that came to a dead end where a flaming monster had cornered my husband.
At least, my soul recognized my husband, but my eyes did not. His large self was crouched into a ball, as though he tried to make himself as small as possible. His arms were folded over his head, and his eyes squeezed tightly closed. The blazing sword I’d thrown at him lay discarded to the side. The sight of my powerful warrior cowering from this beast broke my heart and infuriated me at the same time.
“Tristan!” I yelled, and his eyes popped open. He looked at me, showing recognition and love at first, but then his face filled with the most tortured look I’d ever seen.
“No.” His voice was hoarse, sounding like he’d been shouting for a long time. “Alexis, not you, too. Get out of here. Go!”
His words came weakly, lacking any energy or power.
“No. Not without you.” I lunged for him at the same time the fiery beast did.
Tristan’s eyes widened, and he shook his head vehemently.
“Go, Alexis,” he yelled as he sprang to his feet with sudden energy. If the fear of something happening to me sparked fight back into him, I was okay with that. “Get out before he gets you, too!”
I landed in front of him. “Not without you.”
“I can’t! Their pain is too much. I need to be here. To take it from them.”
“What—?”
The beast behind me sucked in a deep breath, and I spun as it blew it out. I expected fire to rage, but instead, only sound did. The sound of thousands of people screaming for mercy, for help, for their lives.
“I caused that,” Tristan said through a clenched jaw. “It’s mine to bear. I have to take their pain.”
Full understanding of what both Bree and he had meant nearly brought me to my knees with sadness. His guilt over his past life as a Daemoni warrior anchored him to this spot here in Hell, and he didn’t even want to fight it. He wanted to take on the agony from the souls here, as though doing so would lessen theirs.
I couldn’t remember how many times I’d told him that he needed to forgive himself, and I thought at one point he actually had. Apparently, thoug
h, he’d only been hiding the guilt from me, and doing everything he could to be good and right and overcome the horrors he’d committed.
“Tristan, this—” I flicked my hand at the monster “—it’s not real. Those aren’t the people you hurt or killed. Their pain has been relieved. You can’t take this on.”
“I must.”
“But you can’t.”
“I deserve it.”
“No! You don’t.”
His tortured expression deepened, breaking my heart. “I see them and feel them all around me, Alexis. Their cries for mercy. I only want to give that to them. Mercy and peace.”
“But you can’t! Not the souls here, Tristan. They chose their damnation here. The damned are the ones you hear, not the ones you think. Look, it’s not even real.” I kicked the fiery sword I’d given to him off the ground, and it flew into my hand. I swung at the beast in front of me, severing its head. The cries surrounding us ceased. Only those in the distance remained. “See? It’s not real. They’re not real. You’re letting the guilt bog you down. Letting Satan get to you.”
He stared at the flaming monster as it collected its head and disappeared.
“Come on. Let’s get you out of here.” I grabbed Tristan’s hand as I prepared to lift off.
But he wouldn’t budge. “I can’t. This is where I belong.”
I spun on him, my eyes wide. I stepped right up against him, feeling the coldness his soul had become. My hands clamped onto the sides of his face.
“You listen to me. You are stronger than this. You are better than this. You overcame all of this, and you’ve been forgiven. Everybody has forgiven you, Tristan. Everyone but yourself. And I need you to do that right now.” I pulled his face down to me and pressed my lips to his. “You are a man of love and kindness and righteousness. You are my rock, my everything, and I need you. Dorian needs you. I need you to believe in us, in our love.”
He stared into my eyes, his full of bewilderment and more pain. He shook his head slowly. “He says I belong here.”
“Who? Satan?” I shook my head. “Are you going to believe him, or are you going to believe me? Your wife, your love, your soul mate? You’re always telling me to have faith, Tristan. So tell me, where does yours lie?”
His brows pushed together. A spark lit up his eyes. After blinking a few times, his eyes, his mind, his whole self seemed to clear. He straightened up, breaking the hold I had on his gaze, and rose to his full height, pulling his shoulders back and nodding. Now this was my man.
“Ready to fight our way out of here?” I asked as two Demons came soaring at us.
“Damn straight.”
I swung the sword at the first Demon, expecting to decapitate it immediately. This time, however, the blade went through the Demon, but had no effect, as though it only sliced through air. I tried again, and the same thing.
“Throw it here,” Tristan said, holding one hand out as his other fist slammed into the second Demon’s temple, making it recoil.
They both attacked him, ignoring me. I tried to use my powers, but they were ineffective on the Demons, so I punched and kicked. My fists and feet went right through them. Meanwhile, Tristan landed blow after blow, while they did the same to him. At the same time, screams and wails ripped out of their throats, full of despair and guilt. One’s voice sounded like mine. And I realized: these were his Demons to slay. Nobody else could do it for him.
So I flew out of the way, silently cheering him on while I could only watch the battle in the glow of the fiery weapons. I didn’t even realize as the darkness started to fall over me, until it was nearly blinding. Cries for help sounded distant at first, but then everywhere around me, on top of me, within me. My head filled with the sobs, my vision with nightmarish images, and my soul with a heavy grief that weighed me down. To the floor, into the ground. At the last moment, when I thought I was going to fall through, my eyes locked with Tristan’s, and I knew I had to fight this. He’d come here for me, and he’d stay for me if I didn’t battle my way out of here.
I heaved myself up to my hands and knees and struggled against the invisible weight that tried to push me down as I rose to my feet. Tristan had defeated one of his Demons, but still fought fiercely with the other one. When we’d locked gazes, though, the Demon had noticed. Its black, inky eyes had flown to me, before returning to Tristan. Now, as I barely regained my balance, still struggling to breathe, it swung around with its fiery sword arcing around and down. And I remembered what Tristan had said so many years ago: You are my weakness.
I also recalled Bree’s words: If you die here, nobody can save you.
My hand flew to my chest, the pain as the blade cut from my right shoulder to barely missing my heart searing at first, and then blossoming into full-on burn that seemed to explode like the bombs on Earth. My lungs expelled the air they held and refused to pull any more in. I wanted to scream with the pain, but my throat was too tight to let any sound pass. Gray crept in on the edges of my vision, and I stumbled forward. My hand dropped down to catch me, landing on a rock. No, not a rock. A head. The Demon’s head.
“Let’s get out of here,” Tristan said, wrapping his arm around my waist.
I tried to answer, but only gasps came out. I … can’t. I didn’t know if he could hear my mind-talk.
“Where’s your faith, Lex?”
Unlike the other times I’d been asked, his question didn’t infuriate me. Because at this moment, I knew exactly where my faith lay. In us. In our love. Together we could conquer anything, and today, that would be Hell.
Although I could barely breathe, I bit back the pain and wrapped my arms around Tristan’s neck. Then my wings lifted us into the air, and we flew through the tunnel, out to the fiery lake. A whole swarm of Demons greeted us with an enormous, lava-dripping snake behind them. I beat against the air harder, pushing us upward. Every move of my wings pulled at the wound in my chest, tearing it open further, but I pressed on.
The Demons attacked, and Tristan fought them one-armed with the sword blazing in Hellfire while I struggled to lift us higher. The snake rose in front of me and breathed out fire. I dipped us down, barely missing the flames, and then swerved us around its head before it tried again. Tristan must have severed a Demon arm because a sword came flying at me. I caught it, just in time as the snake’s head lifted to meet my gaze. I swung out, slicing through its liquid eye as I gave my wings a hard push against the air.
A piercing screech followed us up. Heat engulfed us as the snake exhaled another breath. I beat my hardened wings frantically while swinging the sword at the Demons who came near. One caught my blade with its mace and jerked it out of my hand. At the same time, another knocked Tristan’s sword free, too. Without weapons, our only hope was to escape. By the time we reached the bridge where I’d lost Tristan last time, though, I could barely force myself to go on. The wound, the flying, and the fighting had drained my energy. The slash in my chest not only burned from heat, but sharp icicles filled my lungs and heart. The souls of Hell were like anchors chained to my chest and pulling me down.
“Tristan,” I croaked.
“You can do this, ma lykita.”
I gave him a weak nod. “For us.”
But the harder I tried to lift us up into the blackness that led to the Otherworld, the more Hell dragged me down. The hotter and colder the wound in my chest burned. As much as my wings fought to fly us upward, we went nowhere. With a deep, feral growl, I gave my wings every bit of energy I had to push us up and away. But we only hung in the air, like a kite losing its uplift and about to dive for the ground. I looked Tristan in his eyes with the gold around the pupil and the outside of the irises a deep emerald green reflecting the glow of fire around us. They were void of any fire within them, though. Instead, they were filled with complete trust and confidence in me.
“I’m … sorry,” I said as we began to fall.
The defeat, the loss, the acceptance of yet another failure of mine was so much worse than th
e pain. I closed my eyes, unable to look him in the face a second longer. I’d tried so hard to save him, to save us both, but as usual, I wasn’t enough.
“Believe in love.”
The whisper was so quiet in my mind, I almost missed it. But it was enough to give me one last surge of strength. With only sheer will and perseverance—and the love of my soul in my arms—to power me, we shot upwards, into the blackness, toward the Otherworld.
Chapter 11
A thousand pound weight sat on my chest. At least, that’s what it felt like, especially when I tried to breathe. I rolled to the side on the hard ground, hoping that would help. The smell of leather with the mouth-watering scent of mangos, papayas, lime, sage, and a hint of man filled my nose. I tried to inhale my favorite scent in the world, but air wheezed through my throat, making me cough, which made my chest feel worse. Was I sick? Why wasn’t I healing? My eyelids felt glued shut, and I had to force them to separate. They felt like sandpaper over my eyeballs as they slowly peeled apart.
All pain was forgotten when I saw the sight in front of me.
“Tristan!” I tried to say with excitement, but it came out as an underwhelming grunt.
He sat next to me, lighting some twigs on fire from a flame cupped in his palm. He twisted toward me and smiled. I wanted to jump up and into his arms, but my body failed to cooperate, remaining anchored to the stone floor with my head pillowed by his coat.
“Shh.” He brushed his fingers across my cheek. He leaned down and kissed my forehead. I wanted more than that, damn it. “You’re hurt, and you’re healing very slowly. I did what I could to help, but—”
“Bree said it would be lasting,” I muttered as I gingerly felt my chest with my fingertips.
My bustier had been cut open, and a long line of scar tissue stretched from my right shoulder to the valley between my breasts. I didn’t dare look at it—the feeling alone told me it was raw and ugly. I did my best to close the leather over it.
“At least you are healing,” Tristan said. “Not as fast as I’d like, but you’re making progress. Here. Drink.”