Tessa winced. “Wrong?” She stunk at song lyrics.
“Yes, it’s wrong. It’s ‘Ray, a drop of golden sun.’”
“Sorry. Give me another chance. Let’s start again.”
He tugged her along. “‘Me, a name I call myself.’”
Oh, she knew this one. “Uh, ‘Fa, a thong made out of thumbs’?”
“‘A thong made out of thumbs,’” he repeated, disappointment in his tone. “Does that make any sense to you, Tessa? Any at all? Who makes a thong out of thumbs?”
“Serial killers? And are you one of those sticklers about this sort of thing, Frank? Because you’re sucking the fun right out of this.”
He shook his head with a scowl. “You’ve desecrated Rodgers and Hammerstein, you know that, don’t you? Nothing will ever be the same.”
She giggled. “Wanna try something else?”
“Not on your life. Besides, we’re coming close to the gates.” Frank pointed up ahead to where the lines of a black wrought-iron gate were just becoming visible.
Tessa pulled at her sweater, which was clinging to her body like a second skin due to perspiration. “I hope they have AC inside. I’m dying here. No pun intended.”
Frank pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to her to wipe her brow. “We need to discuss how we’re going to get inside, Tessa. We need a plan. A solid one at that.”
The ground beneath them shifted again, a soft rumble that only became louder as rocks from clear out of nowhere began to pelt them. “What the hell?” she shouted to Frank, zigzagging with him to avoid the boulders rolling from the landscape, gaining speed as they came closer to the gates.
“They sense something’s out of place, Tessa—this is their version of the welcoming committee!” Frank yelled before pulling her so hard to the right, the bones in her arm cracked and popped.
Tessa caught sight of a carved-out nook in the center of a burned tree and yanked Frank toward it, her chest heaving from the physical labor it took not only to breathe in the humid air but to fight the strange pressure in her chest. Pulling up short, she kept Frank close and hid inside the small enclosure. “Okay, so a plan. How to get inside the gates of Hell. Thoughts?”
Frank’s breath wheezed from his lungs. “Some sort of deception? Wait, what if I just give myself up and when I do, I create a ruckus—a distraction. Then you sneak in.”
“Um, no. No way I’m giving you up. We’re in this together. Where I go, you go. Period. Got that? Better plan, please.”
The ground stilled momentarily, making her wonder if they’d found a way to stay out of Hell’s radar for the moment.
Until a set of ugly, jagged talons reached around the opening of the enclosure and snatched at her, the beast’s scream a wail of desperation, its claws ripping her sweater, gashing her arm. Searing pain shot along her arm as blood gushed from the wound.
Tessa bit her lip, fighting a scream not just of agony but of rage.
Frank’s eyes went wide, but he remained silent, pressing his hand to Tessa’s mouth to keep her from screaming. He shook his head, sending signals with his eyes that she should stay quiet, and took the handkerchief from her hand to wrap around her arm.
The talons dragged their way back out, leaving deep gouges in the burnt trunk of the tree, but the heartbeat had begun again, the unmerciful pound and throb, worming its way into Tessa’s head.
She pushed Frank’s hand from her mouth, clinging to it, trembling, fighting despair. “What now?” she mouthed to him.
He pressed a pudgy finger covered in her blood to his lips, rising on his haunches in order to peer outside the opening. He sank back, gasping for breath. “They know we’re here, Tessa. Think! Think fast. We have to get inside those gates soon!”
Her heart began to match the rhythm of the ceaseless drone, filling the hot air. “Then we need to move, Frank.” Grabbing his hand, ignoring the aching sting of her torn arm, she helped him back out of the tree, her feet aching from fighting the ever-shifting landscape.
They both looked forward at the daunting task ahead, sweat pouring from their bodies, hands entwined tight. “I can do this, Frank. We can do this,” she said just seconds before he was torn from her grasp and hurled high into the air.
* * *
MICK paced the small length of floor between the entryway and Tessa’s bedroom, his chest so tight he didn’t think he’d ever breathe again.
He shouldn’t have told her about what Noah had said. He should have shut his goddamn mouth and let it be until they could talk about it rationally, without the fear that their baby was going to be taken from them.
Fuck. Their last words might be the only words he ever said to her again, and it was more than he could bear.
“Stop,” Nina demanded, stepping in front of him.
“Stop what?”
“Stop thinking about what happened outside. No way I’m going to let the kid or Tessa die. So fucking stop now.”
“And how are you going to prevent it, Nina? Are you going to strong-arm your way into Hell? Will your bad language and threats get us there?” he shouted, then hated himself for being such an asshole.
They’d been nothing but damn good to him and Tessa, and he was pissing all over it by insulting their efforts. He put his hand on Nina’s shoulder and gripped it. “I’m sorry. That was shitty.”
“Yeah, it was,” she said, gazing up at him, her beautiful coal eyes glittering. “But shitty I can live with. Giving up? Not on your fucking life. We don’t quit. We don’t goddamn quit. Ever. So shut down that train of thought now.”
Mick closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “It’s the waiting. All this damn waiting.”
The couch exploded then in a loud bang, the legs breaking and flying in a million different directions. Material ripped and split wide open, sending foam upward in large chunks of puffy white.
“What the fuck?” Nina yelled, spinning around.
Mick put his hand in front of Nina, glancing over the couch as Marty and Wanda came out of the bedroom, their eyes wild.
A groan came from beneath the cushions, making Mick narrow his eyes and take another step in front of the women to shield them from possible harm.
Stupid as that was, because they didn’t need no man, as Nina put it. In mere seconds, they were tearing up the ruined cushions to find out what was beneath them.
“Darnell!” Marty yelped, throwing her arms around his neck.
Wanda was instantly at his side, running her hands over his face. “Oh, my God, Darnell, what happened?”
He gasped for air, his breathing labored and harsh, his clothes torn and singed. His face had slashes of crimson running along one cheek. “We gotta help her. We gotta help Casey,” he wheezed, coughing.
Mick watched Wanda fight for composure, saw her clench her fists. “Where is she, Darnell? How did you get away?”
Leaning forward over his knees, he shook his scruffy head. “I dunno. I had her, right in my hands. We was runnin’ like the devil himself was behind us. We looked everywhere, couldn’t find that egg anywhere. But I lost my grip on her. She got torn away. You don’t know what they’ll . . .” He jammed his fist into his mouth.
Mick’s mouth was dry, his throat so tight he thought it might explode, but he had to know. “Tessa. Did you see Tessa?” Mick knew his question sounded full of desperation, but he didn’t care. He needed to get to Tessa.
Darnell’s head popped up; his weary eyes held fear. “Miss Tessa?”
Nina clamped a hand on Darnell’s shoulder, her tone as somber as he’d ever heard it. “Frank got his mojo back just in time to drag Tessa back there with him. She’s down there with him now.”
Darnell was on his feet in a matter of seconds, wobbling, but his eyes screamed determination. “Then I gotta go!”
Marty flipped a finger upward. “Not without us, demon.”
Arch stood in the doorway of Tessa’s bedroom with Carl right beside him. “Miss Wanda? How can I help?”
Nina strode over to them and wrapped her arms around their necks. “You watch my boy, Arch. Promise me, you’ll watch my boy and Charlie.”
Arch gazed up at her while Carl ran his stiff, duct-taped fingers along her cheek. “Always, Miss Nina. Always.”
In a blur, she was back beside Darnell, cracking her knuckles as each woman latched onto the demon. “Ready when you are, big guy.”
“Hold on. You’re not going without me,” Mick protested. Not a chance. No way he was leaving one less possible chance they could find Tessa and the baby out of this equation.
Nina flipped her hand upward in his direction. “You stay the fuck put. One less novice running around down there is one less fucking headache for us.”
The. Fuck.
“Go, Darnell!” Nina ordered on a shout.
As Darnell began to shimmer, Mick made a choice. One he knew he was going to pay for if he lived and these women got their hands on him. There was no other alternative in his mind.
With a howl, he lunged at the group, sailing over the remnants of the couch and latching onto Nina’s back, hanging on for all he was worth.
He might die, but if Tessa and the baby weren’t here with him anyway, then he didn’t care.
He didn’t want to live without them, and he’d die if he had to, trying to find them.
* * *
“FRANK!” Tessa screamed so loud she was sure all of Hell was awake now.
Frank soared through the gray and black sky, his coat whipping behind him as a demon’s claws held him hostage, sinking into his flesh.
Like a slinky, the demon had cropped up out of the ground, pitching forward and snapping back, dangling Frank in front of her like a carrot.
And still, the maddening drum of the heartbeats played, eating at her soul, working their way into her heart, gnawing at her hope until she thought she’d scream.
“Run, Tessa! Run!” Frank screamed.
No. No. No! They were in this together. Think of Mick. Think of the baby. Think of all the things you’ll miss if you give in. Save Frank, Tessa. SaveFranksaveFranksaveFrank!
This reminded her of all the times Mick and Noah had shut her out. How they’d lured her in, letting her believe she was part of the gang, only to ditch her later on.
They had been just kids at the time, but she remembered how helpless she’d felt. How angry that helplessness had made her. And if she could just summon those two bastards’ faces, giggling and punching each other in the shoulder because they’d sucked her into their game again, she could do this.
So she closed her eyes, she mumbled the words to “Do-Re-Mi,” as inaccurate as they were, drowning out Frank’s screams and the pulse of the hearts. Mick’s and Noah’s faces flashed before her mind’s eye, their bright, young faces taunting her.
And, letting the events of these last few days wash over her, she lost it.
Her mouth opened wide and her wings ripped from her back, unfurling in billowy waves. Her eyes pinpointed Frank and her rage whooshed from her mouth in a stream of fire, aimed directly at the faceless demon.
Rolling her head on her neck, Tessa ran, spraying anything within the stream of fire’s way, howling, picking up speed until she was in the air.
Frank’s screams whizzed past her ears, filled with horror.
Her eyes caught him, rolling, twisting in the air, limbs flailing. Swooping downward, she aimed for the inky dot he’d become in the cruel landscape, plowing through the air until she felt the hard thump of him on her back.
His hands wrapped around her wings, his breathing ragged.
“Hang on, Frank!” she roared against the acrid smoke billowing from her mouth.
More demons appeared, their mouths open in perpetual screams, their bodies slick like oil, screaming their rage at her.
“Use your fire, Tessa!” Frank bellowed, crawling to her back, wrapping his trembling arms around her neck.
She opened her mouth again, spraying anything in her path, fighting the stench of burning flesh and her own singed hair. Then she saw it.
The gates.
If she was gauging them accurately, she could fly right over them. “How high do the gates go, Frank?”
Acrid air shifted under them, creating turbulence, but Frank held on. “Oh, Tessa!” he said with weak excitement. “You can soar right over the top of them!”
The pull in her chest began once more, the rumble of the egg calling to her, and then a coo. A soft, barely audible coo sang in her ears.
Without thinking, without breathing, without any plan at all, Tessa roared over the top of the gates, spiked and jagged-edged, like a jetliner.
The baby was coming. She couldn’t think of anything else but her helpless baby alone somewhere without her.
And the motherfucker who’d taken her child was going to pay.
So hard.
Mick gripped Nina’s jacket, his hands clenched so tight his bones ached as they flew through a black hole of nothing.
They fell, literally, into Hell with a hard blow to the ground in a tangle of limbs, perfume, shoes, and demon.
Nina was the first to rouse, shoving at Mick’s shoulder. “Get the fuck off me, Gigantor! You weigh as much as a damn bus.”
Mick moaned, rolling to his side, scrunching his eyes shut to keep the drip of perspiration from stinging them.
Wanda and Marty shot to their feet, the clack of their heels a desolate echo.
Darnell dragged him upward, grabbing Mick’s face in his hands. “Dude! Are you crazy?”
He shook his head. “No. Is it crazy to want to save the woman I’ve loved all my life and our baby? If that’s crazy, fuck all of you. I’ll figure it out myself,” he said with a tight jaw, shrugging Darnell off and taking his first good look around.
Jesus. Jesus Christ. They were in Hell.
Hell. And it was everything horrible he’d learned as a child times a million. Ugly, tormented, desperate, with miles and miles of barren wasteland.
Nina planted a hand on his shoulder—a firm one that wouldn’t let him move. “Don’t be an asshole, Sasquatch. You’re here now, and we work as a team. Got that? No rogue freeballin’. So stay close. You have wings and some fire, but that ain’t a whole lot of power in your arsenal. Keep something in mind, too. If I gotta, I’ll haul your ass over my shoulder and make you look like a GD sissy. So don’t be stupid.”
God, she had a way of taking your manhood and stomping on it until it squealed. Even if she was right.
Wanda’s face was stricken—she was clearly trying to hold it together, but her facade was cracking. “Where to now, Darnell? Where are we?”
“It ain’t far, but y’all gotta stay close. I know some underground tunnels we can use and, Nina, I’m gonna need you to reach out to Casey with your mind mojo. We need to find her.”
Nina’s nod was brisk as she set off after Darnell with Marty and Wanda right behind her.
Mick took hold of Wanda’s arm, squeezing it, offering quiet support. He focused on remembering that Casey was Wanda’s sister, and she didn’t want to lose Casey any more than he wanted to lose Tessa and the baby.
Wanda patted his arm before smoothing her hair back, righting her shoulders, and plunging her way down the road of Hell, filled with potholes and rubble.
The heat pounded him, forcing him to pull off his sweater and discard it, leaving him in his T-shirt as they walked.
His throat was drier than it had ever been in any fire, sweat poured from him in salty tracks, but he felt Tessa. He felt the baby. They were close.
As they made their way toward a series of black holes against a stark backdrop, Darnell asked, “Anything, Nina?”
Nina shook her head, her expression grimmer than usual. “It’s so damn fuzzy. Every time I can almost see her face, it fades away. I can almost hear her, too. She keeps saying the same thing over and over.”
Wanda grabbed the back of her hoodie. “What? What is she saying?” The worry in her tone tore at Mick. All of this sacrifice
without a single word of recrimination made him so grateful.
Nina grabbed Wanda’s hand and held it. “I can’t make it out yet, Wanda. But I will. Promise I will.”
As they approached the holes, Darnell stopped, turning to face them. His face, almost always smiling, held nothing but darkness. “It ain’t pretty in here, but it’s the only way I know to get to where we gotta be. I want y’all to know, the stuff you’ll see, I want no part of, but it’s so damn ugly, it hurts a soul I ain’t even got no more. Makes me ashamed I’m really one of ’em. Look straight ahead. Don’t make eye contact. Stay close. You hear?”
No one spoke, but they all nodded, following the demon into the first hole.
The moment they entered, Mick felt what Darnell meant. Palpable fear, thick and hungry to feed. Need, lust, an overwhelming stench assaulted him all in one fell swoop.
But he focused, prayed, thought about nothing but Tessa’s face and the egg.
Golden, shiny, ready to hatch their future.
* * *
FRANK slumped against a wall, a wall that was moving with life, slurping and gurgling until Tessa thought she might vomit. She knelt down beside him, his face so pale he was almost as white as Nina. “Frank! Oh, God, Frank. Tell me you self-heal, please.” She pushed a clump of his stringy hair from his face.
His gasps for breath were shallow now, but he gripped her hand. “You must find the baby and Casey and Darnell. Go!”
“Oh, no, pardner. We’re a team. Where I go, you go. I need you, Frank. I need you to be my guide. So we’ll rest for a minute, okay?”
“Tessa, I’m injured. I don’t know if I can heal myself now,” he gritted out, sweat beading on his upper lip from the effort.
“You can. You will,” she muttered fiercely. “Never give up. Just concentrate. Besides, who’ll sing to the baby if you don’t? You don’t want me to mess up a good lullaby, do you?”
His flesh was torn in so many places she didn’t think there were enough Band-Aids in the world to patch him up. Please, God. Please let Frank be all right. Pulling him near her, their sweat sour in her nose, she rocked him. “Sing with me, Frank. Let’s do The Lion King, okay? I love that movie. My favorite is ‘The Circle of Life.’” Taking a deep breath, she began, “‘Pennsyyylllvaniaaa!’”
The Accidental Dragon Page 21