Kellen remained where he was—solid, unmovable, his resolve unshakable.
“Kellen? I’m not bullshitting you. Stay put,” she ordered, a vein in her neck becoming prominent with her anger.
“I’m going.”
Without warning, she let her head fall back on her slender shoulders and laughed, leaving a bitter resonance. “Love makes you do the stupidest shit. Trust me, I know. You could get yourself killed when you have a perfectly good demon to fight your battle for you. Yet still, you’re dipping those big size elevens in the deep end.”
Kellen narrowed his eyes. “If I have to, I’ll find out where he’s taking Carlos, some way, somehow. I’ll summon up the entire afterlife to do it, too. Either you let me go with you willingly, or I get there on my own steam. Your choice.”
Catalina pursed her lips, clearly giving thought to Kellen’s determination. “Here’s the deal. You stay behind me, and if I tell you to bail, you’d better damn well do it, or Satan will seem like your best friend compared to the kind of shit I’ll hurl at you. You’re human. I’m not. I can take a serious pounding. You, despite all that Neanderthal running through your veins, can’t. So let’s not lose perspective. Got it?”
“Got it,” Kellen confirmed through stiff lips.
She dug into her backpack on the floor, pulling out a silver gun with a long butt, and tossed it to him. “This won’t kill the bastards, but it’ll hold them off. Use it.”
Delaney rolled up her sleeves, with Clyde right behind her. “We’re in, too,” she stated as if there were no other option.
“Oh, hell no. One human is plenty to keep track of. I’m good, but I’m not that good,” Catalina crowed with the shake of a finger.
Kellen pulled Delaney into his embrace, giving her a hard hug. “Mrs. Ramirez will be calling. She’ll need you, D. Both of you.” He gave Clyde a man-signal with his eyes that said Delaney would need him. “I need someone to be here for her. I’ll bring them back. I promise. We’ll bring them back.”
Delaney tugged his sweater, swiping at a tear with her thumb. “You’d damned well better. Be safe. Keep Marcella and Carlos safe. Please.”
Kellen took the gun from Catalina and shook Clyde’s hand. Clyde pulled him in for a shoulder bump. “You keep her here with you no matter what,” Kellen murmured.
Clyde pushed his glasses up on his nose. “You worry about Marcella and Carlos. Go get your woman.” He slapped him affectionately on the back before drawing Delaney to his side.
Kellen followed Catalina’s lead to the front of the store, rage and fear and steadfast purpose creating a sour cocktail in his gut.
And then, just as Catalina had predicted—the phone rang.
sixteen
“Where the hell is he, Darwin? It’s been longer than an hour!” Marcella whisper-yelled from her post behind the big maple tree. They hadn’t seen a single sign of Armando. The apartment building was silent but for the screeching wind, rocking a creaking swing on the huge playground to their left.
He shook his head, clearly bewildered. “Solana, I mean, Armando’s like clockwork. He should have been here by now.”
Pent-up frustration made her sigh. “Damn it, he’d better hurry it up. Rick’s getting antsy. He needs his eight or he’s just a bear in the morning, and he has a latte date with this cute guy Kevin from his office before work tomorrow. He wants to be fresh and rested,” she moaned, unable to stop Rick’s words coming from her mouth. Rick was turning out to be a stronger personality than anyone could have bargained for. And he didn’t like anything, or, more precisely, any ghost, toying with his finely tuned schedule.
“For the love of all that’s holy, Marcella! Tell Rick he should be grateful to you. This has to be the most excitement he’s experienced since they took Queer Eye for the Straight Guy off.”
Movement from the apartment’s entryway silenced Marcella and Darwin simultaneously. Her hands wrapped tighter around the bat, cold with Rick’s clammy sweat. The dome light above the stairwell that led to the apartments boasted a large shadow, lurking.
Darwin’s eyes were glued to the figure coming out of the entryway. Solana looked up toward the light. Marcella held her breath when Darwin caught a clear glimpse of her. She saw his surprise when his wild, confused eyes sought hers. Shit. She’d forgotten to tell him that she and Solana could be twins. She held a finger up with a quick press to her lips to keep Darwin from reacting.
Solana’s partially hidden form came into view, revealing she wasn’t alone. She had Carlos in her arms. Turning, she sniffed the air and scanned the street. Her eyes swept the shadows, then honed in on Marcella, stuck in Rick’s body crouched beneath the big maple.
And Armando smiled.
Sadistically.
The smile so much like her own made Marcella shiver.
Fuck. They’d been made. How could he know it was her?
Though he, too, was in someone else’s body, Marcella knew those hard eyes. Solana’s were green, but Armando’s black spiteful malevolence burned in them—fiery, angry. “Marcella, mi corazón,” he called into the harsh wind, his light accent sending a shiver of revulsion up her spine.
He held up Carlos like a sacrificial offering, limp in his arms, the light from the entryway shining down on them with the harsh reality. “Look, pet. Look what I have. Our great-grandson! Come out and we’ll have ourselves a reunion. Could we have hoped for a better-looking boy, Marcella? All this time I’ve waited and look at my reward! Oh, my beautiful, sassy wife—come count our blessings with me before I take him far, far away where you’ll never see him again!” he crowed.
Darwin shook his head with visible force at her, pressing his stubby finger to his thick lips. She knew what he was telling her. Not to take the bait.
What Darwin didn’t know was that she was the bait.
At all costs, she had to keep him from completely understanding what she was going to do or he’d try to stop it.
But at all costs, it had to be done.
Catalina slunk her way through the shadows on the playground, her mouth a thin line of fury. “That spineless hijo de puta,” she muttered, stopping short when she saw the movement at the front of Carlos’s apartment building.
Kellen followed her eyes to Solana and Carlos. Waves of anger attacked his better judgment, leaving all of Catalina’s warnings in a dusty heap of forgotten words. He bolted forward, wanting only to see the motherfucker dead.
Catalina lunged for him, tackling him with the force of any NFL linebacker. They crashed to the ground in a whoosh of dead leaves and cold dirt. Grabbing him by the hair, Catalina hissed her words in his ear with a harsh whisper. “Did I tell you to stay behind me? What about this is behind me?”
Rolling her, Kellen disentangled himself from her iron grip, but it wasn’t easy. “He’s got Carlos, God damn it,” he gritted out.
She gave him a sneer. “Yeaaah. That’s why we’re here. You listen to me. The shit you might see tonight is gonna be freakydeaky double Dutch. I don’t know if Delaney’s given you the low-down on what dealing with something like this is like, but it’s baboon-butt ugly. This is nothing. Now, if you want to help, aim for keeping the kid out of harm’s way when I get him away from that prick. But pay close attention; do not interfere or get cagey. Again, me demon. You? Not even remotely close, ghost whisperer. I know you want to be a hero and save your woman, but don’t be a dumb-ass hero. I can’t be taken out like you, Kell, and if you want to live to see Marcella again and keep Carlos safe, stop doing stupid shit! One wrong move, and we’re toast. Now, if you don’t knock it off, I’ll make sure you walk with a limp for a very long decade.”
From the bruise he was sure was forming on his right shoulder, he didn’t doubt it. He held up his hands. “Okay. I acted rashly. Seeing him, her, what the hell ever, with Carlos makes me insane.”
Catalina’s eyes squinted toward the apartment building, keeping a hawklike gaze on Solana and Carlos. “Do you see Marcella anywhere?”
Kelle
n’s heart shifted in his chest, his hands clenched in tight fists. He peered into the gloom of the night, scanning the front of the apartment building. Bitter wind whipped at his hair, seeping under his parka. “No. Damn it. Where the hell is she?”
Catalina rose from the ground, brushing the leaves from her jeans. “I don’t know, but you give me a heads-up if you get a glimpse of her. If we get lucky, maybe she’s been detained and she won’t show up at all.” Stooping, she pulled open her bag and dragged out the biggest gun Kellen had ever seen. Next came a flask she had attached to a rope. She threw it around her neck with a grunt.
“Do I want to know what’s in that?” he asked, pointing to the flask.
“It ain’t Texas bat shit,” she joked.
Jamming his hands into his jacket, he remained silent, his mind torn in a hundred different directions. Worry for Marcella seeped into his bones. Had Armando already gotten his hands on her? He’d choke the very demon out of him if he’d touched her.
Catalina gave him a sympathetic smile. “I promise I’m going to do everything in my power to help Carlos and Marcella. Though it would definitely help if I could see her. So you be on the lookout.”
But activity by the side of the apartment building had caught Kellen’s attention. “Who the hell is that? One of Solana’s cohorts?”
Catalina’s head whipped around.
They both tipped their heads at the sight of a slight, blond man, dressed in pink and white, rushing Solana while another portly, well-dressed gentleman swung a bat around like he was swatting at invisible flies.
“Amateurs,” Catalina muttered, cocking the barrel of her enormous gun.
Deciding Darwin, who hadn’t been spotted yet, was in a better position to nail Armando, Marcella made a snap decision.
Waving her hands to signal to Darwin to catch the bat, she hurled it at him, then mentally called Rick a girl for such a weak pass.
The bat clamored to the ground in a ruckus of metal and clanking, but Darwin scooped it up.
Marcella tripped just as she rushed Solana’s knees, hoping to knock her down while Darwin scooped up Carlos. Instead, she crashed into the side of the brick building, hearing Rick’s voice in her head remind her he was no athlete, sister. No one ever picked Rick Short to be on the dodgeball team, he declared. But he’d made a damned fine cheerleader, thank you very much.
She came to a clothes-ripping, tearing halt just as Darwin missed the back of Solana’s head. Solana’s body crumpled to the ground at an awkward angle and Armando’s body emerged from her lifeless shell. Strong, tall, dark, handsome, and sure. He took off, running, toward the park, Carlos’s short legs slapping over the edge of his brawny arm, his evil leaving a vaporous trail behind him.
Marcella willed Rick to get up off his bony ass, clawing the bricks to haul herself upward.
Darwin shot off into the dark after Armando, moving with agility she wouldn’t have thought Little Anthony possessed.
She squinted into the darkness, heading for the playground, but couldn’t see a bloody thing. Rick assured her that was because he’d left his glasses at home because, really, who wants to date a four-eyes?
With a full-bodied shake, Marcella fought to keep control of Rick’s body. She clenched her teeth. “Just give me a few more minutes and I swear, you can have your body and all its pink accessories back!”
Rick stilled again, allowing her the opportunity to assess the landscape of the park from behind the cover of the slide. Hunkering down, she peeked around the corner.
The cold metal of something unfamiliar touched the nape of her neck.
“Who the fuck are you?” someone growled, low, soft. Someone not so unfamiliar.
Shit, shit, shit. What was Big-Breasted Barbie doing here? Marcella fought a scream of frustrated worry by jamming one of Rick’s knuckles in her mouth. Catalina had to go. Marcella didn’t know her origins, or her skill level, but it’d never match that of Armando’s enraged fury.
And then, big hands were grabbing her by the back of her jacket, hauling her upward while Rick squealed his protest, so sharp, and so girlie, in her mind, it made her wince. “Who the hell are you?”
Kellen, oh, thank God it was Kellen, she thought with a mixture of dread and relief. Marcella threw her arms around his neck and planted a kiss smack-dab on his lips that not only surprised him, but left him sputtering. “Oh, God, Kellen. Thank God it’s you,” she cried against his neck while Rick purred appreciative thanks in her head.
Kellen pulled his head back while she clung to his neck, his face a mixture of shock and disgust. He ran the back of his hand over his lips. “Who are you?” he demanded.
Catalina held the gun directly at Marcella’s forehead, sniffing the air. “For sure, he’s not demon,” she said to Kellen, her eyes filled with suspicion.
Marcella shook her head, pushing the barrel of the gun away from her with impatience before looking up at Kellen. “Put that thing away! It’s me. Marcella! Look, long story and not a whole lot of time for deets. I possessed this man’s body. His name’s Rick. He says it’s a pleasure, by the way—especially pleasurable to meet the big guy here.” Her hand, with a will of its own, patted Kellen’s hard shoulder.
Marcella stopped, shaking her head again. “Sorry. It’s hard to keep Rick quiet. This is what happened. Armando has Carlos. He has to be stopped. I needed a physical body to do that. So Darwin showed me how to possess a body. Unfortunately, while I hedged on who to possess, he shoved me into Rick’s. But it’s me, I swear it.”
Both Catalina and Kellen shared a glance that screamed disbelief. “Who’s Darwin? Delaney’s dog?” Kellen asked.
She bit her lip. “Another long story. Just trust me, he’s a good guy.” Her worried glance went to the pitch-black portion of the playground. “Look, we can’t stand around. Armando has Carlos!”
“Answer me one question,” Kellen demanded, holding up a hand to Catalina. “Where’s Marcella’s favorite place to shop?”
Rocking back on her heels, she smiled, cocky and confident. “Pottery Barn.” Marcella gasped in outrage. “It is not, Rick. It’s Pier 1. Shut up or I swear to God, I’m going to ram one of your damned bowling shoes right up your ass!”
Kellen scooped her up and swung her around so swiftly, it jarred the breath right out of her. “Oh, this is definitely my Marcella,” he confirmed with a soft whoop then dropped her back on the ground as hastily as he’d gathered her up, looking around to see if anyone had caught his overly exuberant hug. “I’m sorry, honey. It’s just like I told you, blonds aren’t my thing.”
Catalina eyed her while she circled the area, clearly still wary. “You do know you can harm the host’s body, don’t you?”
“Yes! So tell this madwoman to give it back to me! I want to go home!” Rick yelped.
That was it. Marcella had had enough. She didn’t need a host to hunt Armando.
Just a soul.
Fighting the confines of Rick’s body, she shimmied out of it, leaving him in a crumpled heap on the ground. “Put him somewhere safe, would you, please?” she asked Kellen. “I don’t want him hurt because of me.”
Catalina took the lead, dragging Rick’s unconscious form to safety under the shelter of the sliding board, then said, “I’m going in. Remember what I told you, Kell,” she warned.
Marcella turned to Kellen with eyes that were pleading as she tried to pull away. “He has Carlos.”
Kellen pulled her to him, hard, running his hands through her hair, his eyes drinking in her face. “I know, honey. I know everything. I know about Carlos and that David is Juan. Are you okay?”
Her gut clenched, her eyes misting at his concern. “I’m fine. Forget me. I need to help Carlos. So please, I’m begging you—go back to the store and wait for him, because if you were hurt . . . I’ll make sure he gets back to you and Mrs. Ramirez.” Somehow.
His grip grew tighter, his eyes piercing. “Ah, no. I know you, Miss Sacrificial Lamb. Do you have any idea what that nut wa
nts to do with you?”
Does he have any idea what I want to do with him? Kellen’s words gave her pause, but then she shook it off. It didn’t matter what Armando planned to do. He’d never be able to keep her from doing what she was going to do because he didn’t know how. Anxiety gripped her. She had to get the hell gone. “I have to go, Kellen. Please.”
“No way am I letting you out of my sight. I know what you think you’re going to do, and it just ain’t gonna happen.”
Lifting her head, she memorized his face, the sharp lines, the dimple on either side of his mouth. “You can’t help. He’d kill you. I couldn’t live with that. Enough damage has been done because of what I did. I have to go, Kellen. I have to. But I need you to know this. If I could have had things any other way, if there were a way for me to stay here, I’d do it in a second. I’d take mortality and you any day of the week. Now let me go. Please.”
“No, woman! Listen to me. I will not allow you to do what you plan—”
He stopped in midsentence when she tickled him at his weakest spot, catching him off guard. Freeing herself, she floated out of his grasp and up toward the top of the tree. Her heart thrashed against her ribs when she looked down on him. “Tell D I love her, and all those stupid refugee dogs, but don’t waste any more foolish time looking for a solution for me.” She paused, fighting back more ridiculous tears. “And I love you, too, Kellen,” she sobbed, hoarse and raw with pain. “I never thought I’d say that to another man again, but I love you.” I love you. I love you. I love you.
“Damn it, Marcella, Get down here now!” he bellowed, the sharp planes of his face strained, his body rigid with anger.
“I love you!” she whispered into the wind before she took off deeper into the playground without looking back. Her heart would break if she looked back.
Instead, Marcella focused her eyes forward—where she’d find Armando, and together, they’d spend their eternity.
My Way to Hell Page 26