Tirade
Page 3
The pair made me sit there at her desk until I drank half a bottle of water, explained to them that I was there to visit my mother and that I had decided to take up running because I thought it was a good use of time to do it on the way to the hospital.
The lady at the desk thought I was crazy.
Colin laughed and said he liked my style.
He walked me to my mother’s room (partly because he didn’t believe my story about her even being there), then asked me how I planned to get back to my car. I was completely dumbfounded. I hadn’t even thought about getting back to my car and I wasn’t up for another three-mile run in the afternoon sun. He saw the stricken look on my face and volunteered to drive me to my car.
He’s been doing it ever since.
I gazed out the window at the passing greenery and thought about how very long ago that seemed. Yet, it had only been three days.
“Parked a little farther away today?” Colin asked when we passed the spot I had parked yesterday.
“Yeah, it’s just ahead down here.” I pointed.
“Are you training for a 10K or something?”
“I, uh, want to run track at school. I’m trying to get my run time down over the summer.”
He nodded appreciatively. “That’s a real good thing to be into. Keeps you out of trouble.”
If he only knew. Gran’s car came into view and I gathered up my backpack and fished the keys from my pocket. “Thank you for the ride.”
“Sure thing, kid.” He grinned and popped a piece of Trident in his mouth. “Gum?” He tilted the pack in my direction.
“No, thanks.”
He tucked the pack back into the pocket of his shirt and saluted me. “See you tomorrow, kid.”
“My name is Heven,” I grumbled, climbing out of his cruiser.
“I know.” He laughed. It was a merry sound and I found myself smiling.
He waited, as he always does, until I was in my car with the engine running before he pulled away. I did a U-turn and headed back the way I came. Hopefully, Cole and Gemma had found something in the books that we overlooked before.
The interior of the car was hot from sitting in the sun and I leaned forward to adjust the air-conditioning. When I straightened, I glanced in the rearview mirror and let out a scream.
A huge, black demon filled the back seat.
As I stared, he lifted his hand, revealing a gleaming row of razor-sharp claws.
Chapter Two
Sam
I have known pain. I have known longing. I have known death.
But this, I have never known this. To be confined… day after day, to hear silence so loud that I want to slap my hands over my ears and scream just for relief. To have my bones continuously knock against my skin because they are vibrating with the force of my anger.
I feel caged. Frustrated.
Damned.
I may be a hellhound, but this is the first time I’ve ever felt like an animal.
I paced the small “room,” my hands clenched into fists, and considered my options for the millionth time. I wouldn’t give up. But the truth… The truth of the matter was I really was trapped.
With a burst of overwhelming frustration, I hurled myself at the doorway again. I hit the solid, yet invisible, force field with a loud crack and I stumbled backward. A warm, metallic taste filled my mouth. I’d bitten my tongue. I vaguely wondered if blood was considered calories—for anyone other than a vampire. My stomach rumbled at the thought of food… I had never been this hungry before. I had never known this kind of gut-gnawing, consistent pain through my abdomen as my body searched for something… something other than what it was getting.
That thought cut off all thoughts of food. The last thing I wanted to do was think about what I had been eating in order to stay alive. I glanced back at the force field, angry at the way it taunted me. The cell I was trapped in didn’t have a door like the other cells in the dungeon because I had destroyed it the first time Hecate flung me in here; so it appeared that there was nothing holding me in. It appeared that I could just walk right on out whenever I wanted. But the force field was there… silent but needing no words. Clear but needing no matter. It was virtually nothing, yet encompassed everything.
My body ached from throwing myself against the force field so many times and I sank down to the floor. I glanced down at the cut on my bicep, the result of the demon who had taken up residence inside my little brother. It wasn’t healing like it should, but it didn’t appear to be getting infected. The entire left side of my ribcage was broken, the result of being thrown into a large rock that jutted out of the nothingness here in hell. They weren’t healing like they should, either. Of course, throwing myself into a force field constantly wasn’t helping.
Right next to me, a large jug of water appeared out of nowhere. I snatched it up before it could disappear (that happened once—on day two), uncapped it, and took a long, greedy drink. The first swallow scraped the inside of my throat, but I didn’t care. I needed this water. I didn’t know how long it had been since my last “water allowance,” but it had been too long. When half the jug was gone, I forced it from my lips and tucked it in my lap, keeping my hands around it. I should save some for later, in case the next one didn’t come for a day or two.
I told myself it was a good thing Hecate (or someone) was making water appear for me. It meant they didn’t want me dead. I leaned my head against the wall… No, they didn’t want me dead. They wanted me for something else.
For bait.
To get to Heven.
I wondered constantly if she was okay. Yes, I could hear her voice when I wanted. I knew that she wasn’t in immediate danger… but that stupid expression played through my head like a broken record. All good things come to those who wait.
Is that what was happening? Was Beelzebub waiting, planning… plotting?
I thought about Logan. My little brother who had been through far more than he should ever have to endure. His body was broken—he was weak and probably traumatized. Heven told me about him constantly. I knew she wasn’t lying because I knew what bad shape he was in. If she was going to lie, she would have said he was doing better. I knew that once the demon left his body, he should’ve died. But he didn’t. Because Gemma healed him. Sort of.
She closed the dagger wound in his body, she breathed air into his deflated lungs and gave his heart strength to beat, but not even Gemma and all her healing mojo could totally reverse what that demon did to him.
As honest as Heven was being with me about Logan and his physical state, I knew she wasn’t telling me everything. She was only trying to protect me. Something I couldn’t be mad about because it’s all I had done for her since we’d met. I hadn’t realized how suffocating being protected could feel.
I was beyond grateful that Logan was staying at Gran’s farm. Gran thought Logan got sick and I went to our parent’s house to try to talk some sense into them—to find a way to bridge the gap between them and my brother. Gran thought I was fighting to take my brother home where he belonged. But really, I was the one fighting to get home.
I knew Logan was being cared for. If anyone could take care of Logan the way he should be, it was Gran. Heven sat with him day after day, talking with him, relaying our conversation back and forth and trying to build a relationship with hopes they would be close.
It made me feel guilty.
Guilty because of everything Logan put her through, everything he did and said to her when I wasn’t looking. Guilty because of her mother. Heven still had no idea Logan was the one who put her mother in the hospital. I couldn’t bring myself to tell her. It wasn’t because I thought she would refuse to watch over him while I couldn’t, but because I knew that she would. She would do it for me just as I would do it for her. The fact was that her knowing would make it harder for her to do what she was doing.
I had to get out of here.
I looked back at the force field once more, wondering what its weakness was. T
here had to be a weakness. Even the strongest adversaries had weaknesses. I just had to figure out what it was and exploit it.
Heven
My foot hovered over the brake and I wanted so badly to press on it. But I didn’t. Slamming on the brakes would jerk that gothic-looking freak even closer to me. I took a deep breath and willed myself to stay in control. Don’t let it know you’re afraid.
It reached for me and I floored the gas, throwing it backward into the seat. It hissed, making it sound inhuman (which, yeah, it was), and I prayed it wasn’t one of those demons with a snake for a tongue. Afraid of keeping up the breakneck speed I was driving at, I took my foot off the gas. The car began to decelerate and the demon grinned. He grinned like he had caught me, and he leaned forward (did I mention his teeth were black like his skin?).
There was one good thing.
With his grin I could see that he didn’t have a snake for a tongue.
But his teeth looked like pointy black daggers ready to rip the fragile flesh right off my bones.
I grabbed my reusable steel water bottle and slammed it into its face. He screamed and it was the kind of sound that would peel paint off walls. The car swerved into the oncoming lane. I heard the angry honking of another car and jerked the wheel back, just in time to avoid being in yet another car accident.
The demon launched itself at me, coming up into the front of the car, and grabbed the steering wheel, careening the car all around. The tires squealed and my head bounced off the driver’s side window. For a second, black dots swam before my eyes and I let go of the wheel. The demon took advantage and seized control of the car, stomping his foot down over mine and driving like a bat out of hell.
Frankly, right now, I would prefer to be facing off against a bat.
He swerved around another oncoming car, narrowly avoiding sideswiping it. Though, I think he was disappointed in his poor aim because he began speeding again. He was going to crash this car, kill me and steal the scroll.
I would not die like this.
If I died, Sam would be trapped in hell forever, Logan would be all alone, and the rest of my family would be left unprotected.
I elbowed the demon and sent him sideways and took back the steering wheel. I guided the car to the side of the road as the demon grabbed my arm and dug in its filthy claws. Blood began to drip down my skin and I cried out, jerking the car to a halt. The sudden stop sent the demon into the dashboard and I reached into my pocket and pulled out the fork. There was no hesitation when I rammed it into its side.
He began screaming. I was so close that spittle from his mouth fell onto my arm as I opened the car door and all but fell out onto the shoulder of the road. I scrambled up and reached in, pulling the demon out into the dirt. He was clutching my bag and I tore it from its grasp and ran, wanting to put some distance between us.
The demon chased me, and as I turned to look over my shoulder, something whizzed by my cheek. It was the fork.
Clearly, it hadn’t been strong enough this time.
And I couldn’t outrun this one, either.
He slammed his body into mine and we both went down. Unfortunately for me, I broke his fall. He grabbed my bag, yanked it away and began riffling through it. I thought back to something I learned while in Italy and I took aim with my foot and kicked him hard… right in the man parts. He doubled over, thrusting the bag outward. I reached inside to pull out my dagger and I rammed it upward, right into his chest.
He made a grunting sound before he disintegrated. I stood there, breathing hard, as the wind carried away what was left of him.
Note to self: forks are not good weapons to use against all demons, but kicking them in their man parts works every time.
A burning pain in my arm caused me to look down. Along with the rips in my skin from his claws, I had burns from where the demon’s spit got on me. It didn’t help the wounds were also splattered with black demon blood. I used the hem of my T-shirt to wipe the blood away, but my arm continued to burn. I walked back to Gran’s car to grab my water bottle from the floorboard of the backseat and used what was left to rinse off the area in case any poison was left on my skin. I didn’t see any, but I wasn’t going to leave it up to chance. I inspected the interior of the car for any demon blood or damage from his claws and was beyond thankful when everything appeared to be okay. No way did I want to explain to Gran how I messed up yet another one of her cars.
Weary, I climbed back into the driver’s seat, my eyes automatically looking in the rearview mirror toward the backseat. I really hoped that had been the last demon for a while.
*
I resisted the urge to reach out to Sam the whole drive home. I wanted to hear his voice, to feel it caress my mind, but I was too afraid that he would know something was wrong.
I wouldn’t want to tell him and then he would get frustrated just like before. It was better if I waited until I was a little calmer before reaching out to him again.
I could still feel an echo of pain through my ribs and arm and I wondered why Sam was still hurting. He should have been healed by now. Maybe his pain was distracting him.
I was relieved to see Cole sitting on the porch at Gran’s when I pulled up, Gemma sitting close alongside him. One of the books was open in her lap, but they weren’t looking at it. They were looking at each other and having an intense conversation.
“Did you find anything?” I asked before I was even completely out of the car.
“Nothing,” Gemma replied, looking away from Cole.
I nodded. I had hoped for the best, but knew it was a slim shot. Gemma knew those books, and if she said what I was looking for wasn’t in them, then it probably wasn’t.
I nodded again. “Thank you for looking. I guess it’s safe to say the books don’t contain the information we need on how to get a Lucent Marble without a hellhound.”
“They don’t say anything about how to break the force field that keeps Sam in that dungeon either,” Cole said.
“It doesn’t need to. We can use the dagger—it will break the force field.”
“No!” Gemma said, jumping up. The book fell from her lap. “You can’t do that!”
“Why not?” I demanded, placing my hands on my hips.
“It’s a force field! It deflects what you throw at it.”
“I hadn’t planned to throw the dagger at it. I planned to stab it.”
Gemma shook her head. “If you stab it and press the jewel, that light will shine out from it and the force field will deflect it away and send it back onto you.”
Cole whistled between his teeth.
“Are you sure about this?” I asked.
“Certain.”
Could nothing go right today?
“Maybe it’s time you tell us the rest of your plan,” Cole said.
“I don’t have a plan!” I yelled. “All I know is that I have to get Sam out of there and fast. The clock is ticking. As soon as Beelzebub comes back from what I did to him, he’s going to take it all out on Sam.”
Cole moved down the steps toward me.
“We need a way to get a Lucent Marble, we need a way to break the force field, we need a way into the stupid castle to get to the dungeon and we need a way to get the stupid demons off my back for five minutes so I can think!” I burst out.
“Were you attacked?” Gemma asked. I felt her gaze running over me for injury. Her eyes focused on the burns on my arm.
I sighed. “Since day three.”
Cole made a sound and grabbed my arm. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
I shrugged. Why bother? I was handling it.
“Were you attacked today?” he pressed.
“Twice.”
He swore. “Maybe I should stay here for a few days.”
“No. That isn’t necessary.” My stomach flipped and my vision blurred for a few moments.
“Are you feeling all right?” Gemma asked, eyes narrowed.
“I’m okay. I want a shower though.”
“We’ll wait here,” Cole said, releasing my arm.
I nodded and went past them to the door. Before going inside, I turned back to Gemma. “Do you know anything about demon spit?”
Gemma’s eyes widened. “It burns your skin.”
I nodded and held up my arm. “So this will go away, right?”
She came forward and grasped my arm. “Did you kill the demon that did this to you?”