“I heard you talking about Sam,” Logan said.
“We are leaving for hell as soon as Riley gets here.”
“Be careful, okay?”
“Of course. Sam will be here before you know it. He’s going to be thrilled to see you.”
He glanced at Cole and Gemma, then back at me and took a step closer. “I… uh… I appreciate everything you have done for me. Letting me stay here and stuff. I know I don’t deserve it.”
“Logan! Of course you do. You’ve been through so much. We’ve loved having you here.”
His face was pale when he said, “I hope you still feel that way once Sam gets home.”
“Of course I will. You’re always welcome here.”
He nodded. “I’m going to go back to my room now.”
“Next time you see me, Sam will be with me.”
He nodded and left the room. I looked at Cole and Gemma. “I’m worried about him.”
“He’ll be okay once Sam gets home,” Cole said.
“I hope so,” I said as Riley came through the window.
His dark hair was disheveled and he shoved it back, leaving it carelessly tasseled and perfect. His very dark eyes apprised me as he stood to his full height and leaned backward, cracking his lower back.
“Good, you’re here. Let’s go,” I said, grabbing my bag.
“Should we go over the plan?” Cole asked, getting up from the bed.
I shook my head. “The plan is simple: get Sam and get out.”
“My favorite type of plan,” Riley said.
I ignored Gemma’s frown. “Let’s meet at the portal. I’m going to go say bye to Gran. Cole, come with me since she knows you’re up here. You can offer to give me a ride to Kimber’s.”
Everyone sprang into action. Riley and Gemma went out the window and Cole and I went down the stairs. Butterflies danced in my ribcage. I was finally going to see Sam! I sobered a bit when I thought about what we were going to have to go through while we were down there. But it didn’t matter.
I would do whatever it took to get Sam back, even if it meant stepping over that fine line between heaven and hell.
Chapter Thirteen
Heven
Riley led the way through the portal, and as soon as we hit the hard granite floor, we all began walking, with me leading the way. My photographic memory was the perfect map, showing me which way to go and never leading me wrong. As I turned and walked, the landscape around us remained the same: drab, depressing and colorless.
Riley fell into step beside. “How do you know where you’re going?”
I tapped my forehead and immediately felt a wave of homesickness for Sam. The small act made me think of all the times he tapped my head to reassure me we were never far apart. “I have a photographic memory,” I explained. “I’ve been this way before.”
“Right,” he said, his gaze sliding around as his steps slowed ever so slightly. Riley might not have an aura, but that didn’t mean I hadn’t gotten better at reading people without it. He seemed hesitant to be here, almost nervous.
“Is something wrong?”
His eyes shot to me. “No.”
“If you’re worried—”
“Please. Do I look like the kind of guy who gets worried?” His tone reflected his usual cocky self.
Well, he had. But I let it go because a flowing, black sludge-filled river came into view. “That’s it,” I said, fishing for some sort of reaction, wondering if his nerves would resurface.
“Looks refreshing,” he said, his voice dry.
“You’ll have to be careful because demons swim around in it.”
“Yeah, I know,” he replied, then cleared his throat. “I can handle it.”
“How do you know? I thought you hadn’t been here before.”
“I haven’t. You must have told me during one of the many times you never shut up.”
His rudeness was supposed to distract me from the fact that what he was saying wasn’t right. I hadn’t told him about the demons in the water. I opened my mouth to retort, but I lost my thought because he stripped off his shirt and stuffed it into my hands. I tried not to look. Really, I did. But I couldn’t not look. I don’t think he had any body fat at all. Every muscle on him was defined and cut. His skin wasn’t as tan as Sam’s and looked smoother, cooler to the touch. He had a sprinkling of black hair on his solid chest that tapered down his navel to disappear into his jeans, which he started to unzip.
“What are you doing?” I asked, keeping my eyes above his waist.
He arched an eyebrow and silver danced in his eyes. His eyes were a good distraction from his body. “If I go in there dressed, I won’t have anything to wear when I come out.”
“Right,” I said as his jeans hit me in the chest. His laugh echoed around me as he dove into the water, morphing into a sleek, black hellhound.
I stared after him for a long moment, hoping he would be okay, before I turned and dumped his clothes on the ground. Gemma and Cole were standing a few yards away, not even paying attention to us, but deep in conversation. They were in love and I wanted them to work things out, but not here. Not now.
“Hey, guys,” I said, walking to stand in front of them.
“You can’t trust Riley,” Cole said abruptly.
I let out a long-suffering sigh. “Why are we still talking about this?”
“He’s cursed,” Cole blurted out, looking over my shoulder toward the black sludge.
“Wh—wait. What?” I said, wondering if I had heard right. “You think Riley is cursed?” That was ridiculous.
Cole motioned to Gemma, who nodded. “I tried to tell you. It was part of the deal that Callum made. He not only turned himself and future generations of the males in his family into hellhounds, but he also cursed them. All the hellhounds in Callum’s line were cursed with servitude to Beelzebub. They are literally at his beck and call.”
“That’s ridiculous.” I denied.
“It’s the truth. It’s why Callum seemed different after he changed. The curse was dark… It made it hard for the goodness in him to shine through. He had to fight against the darkness every day. And then Beelzebub came and wanted him to do something. It was a heinous crime and Callum resisted. It’s why Beelzebub killed him.”
“So you think Riley will betray us because he’s bound to do Beelzebub’s bidding?”
“I don’t know,” Gemma said. “I just think you need to be careful.”
“It’s kind of late, don’t you think? Look around. We’re in hell. He’s in that nasty water doing us a favor. I trust him.”
There was a loud sucking sound as Riley jumped out of the black sludge and shook, gobs of black ooze flying everywhere. He stared at me for a moment out of silver eyes that seemed to study me in such an intent way that I squirmed. Could he have possibly heard what we had been talking about? He walked over to where the three of us stood and unrolled his long tongue and three Lucent Marbles dropped into my palm.
“Thank you,” I said as he padded away toward his clothes. I turned back to Cole and Gemma and held out the marbles and widened my eyes as if to say, “see?”
Cole sighed, took the marbles and began cleaning them off with his shirt. “Let’s just focus on getting Sam. We’ll deal with this later, okay?”
“Yeah, okay. Let’s go,” I said and started walking once more.
It didn’t take long before the ominous black castle came into view. Once again, I noticed that Riley seemed to be getting nervous. I understood now that it was probably because this was the home of Beelzebub, the guy who cursed his family and seemed to have some kind of hold over him. I wanted to know more, to know how the curse worked, but I didn’t think bringing it up right this moment was a good idea. It hit me then how much I was asking of Riley. I mean, this was a guy Sam practically ran out of town. He wasn’t (or hadn’t been) our friend when I found him and basically dumped a huge mess on him and asked for help. And now, I find out he’s basically going against a man h
e’s indebted to, a man that I’m sure Riley has avoided up until now. He had no reason to help us. He isn’t getting anything in return. In fact, it seemed to me this was risky for him.
And yet he was here.
We came upon the castle and I stopped short. Something didn’t feel right. “The draw bridge is down,” I said in a hushed tone.
“Isn’t that a good thing?” Cole asked.
“It’s too easy.”
“I did expect more of a fight,” Gemma said.
“Maybe the fight is inside,” said Cole.
Usually, the minute I dropped into hell, Beelzebub was in my head, squeezing my skull and racing to do something horrible. But now he was acting as if he didn’t care I was here. “It’s almost as if he wants me to come inside…” I said, then gasped. “Sam!”
I took off running. I charged through the heavy front door and made my way to a large set of stairs that seemed to plunge into a black abyss. I didn’t hesitate. I didn’t heed the warnings of my friends behind me. I was deaf and blind to all things not related to the dungeon.
There could only be one reason that Beelzebub would let me walk into his castle, around his land… It was because he wanted me to see something.
I prayed it wasn’t a dead body.
As I raced through the dark, I told myself Sam wasn’t dead. He was still alive. We talked just an hour ago… I would feel it if our Mindbond had been severed. I swung open the heavy door and rushed into the darkened dungeon. Burning torches lined the walls and I scrambled to the entrance of Sam’s cell.
“Sam!” I screamed, not caring who heard. “Sam!”
There was no movement, no response as I skidded to a halt, practically bouncing right off the force field that kept him from me. I didn’t see him. He wasn’t answering. My eyes sought out the darkened corners, the places he could be sleeping… only there were none.
All the darkened corners were lit. In fact, the entire cell was lit up like the fourth of July.
Sam was not in that cell.
“Sam!” I screamed and raised my fist to beat on the force field, only my arm went right through. I was mere inches from throwing myself inside when Riley grabbed me and pulled me back.
“It might be a trap.”
I didn’t care. I wanted what I came here for.
“Sam!” I screamed, my throat ripping raw.
“He’s gone,” a voice said from behind.
We all turned. “Kimber,” I said, “where is he?”
“I don’t know. He took him. After…”
“After?”
Kimber didn’t say anything else, but stared off into nothing.
“After what?” I cried.
Cole swore and I turned to see him staring into the cell, his eyes focused on something in the center of the room, something I hadn’t noticed in my panic.
There was blood.
Sam
Underestimated. I have been underestimated many times in my life. Some don’t like to be underestimated. They want people to know how strong or cunning they are. They want people to not want to mess with them. Me? I like it. Especially by people who should know better—by people who think so highly of themselves they forget to think of their opponent at all.
Being underestimated is an advantage.
I opened my eyes a crack to see Beelzebub had his back turned. He was staring out a massive window that overlooked the dull view of hell. His hands were clasped tightly behind his back and smoke practically poured from his ears, so I knew he was angry. I took a chance to look around at my surroundings. I was lying on—rather, had been dumped onto—a blood-red carpet. I seemed to be in an office of some sorts—if you could call a room with a desk and chains on the wall an office…
There was a sound behind me, and I slammed my eyes shut and tried to look natural in the unnatural and uncomfortable position I’d been dumped in. I was still very sore from the whipping I took, but I could already tell the wounds had at least closed, not healed by any means, but at least closed and were no longer bleeding. My knee injury from when I tried to escape was fine so I could walk—or run—when needed, and the pain in my ribs was manageable.
I don’t know how long I had been out, but it couldn’t have been long. Beelzebub was stupid for thinking that a beating would keep me down for any significant amount of time.
“How could you allow that piece of Map to be destroyed?” Beelzebub said and I felt rather than saw him turn from the window to face whoever made that noise behind me.
“I had meant to take it from her, but the flames were too close and it was destroyed,” Hecate replied, her tone haughty.
“Excuses!” he roared. Then there was a pause and in a much more reasonable tone he said, “Do you know what you’ve cost me?”
Was he really attempting not to scream? That was like a pile of shit trying not to smell.
“I’ve lost just as much as you! I draw my power from hell just as you do. ‘Course I’m not greedy about it.” Her last words were said almost beneath her breath.
Interesting.
Something crashed against the far wall and I figured, instead of yelling, he decided to throw things.
“What is he doing here? Why did you take him out of his cell?” Hecate asked, and I tried not to react to the fact attention was being called to me.
“He isn’t any of your concern!” Beelzebub snapped.
“Have you forgotten that everything in hell is of my concern?”
Charged silence reigned. I had a feeling as to why I wasn’t in my cell and why he was suddenly trying not to be loud. He didn’t want to give away where he was. Heven, where are you?
“So the name wasn’t on the Map?” Hecate asked.
“Of course it’s on the Map!” He demanded. “On the portion that you burned!”
Sam? Where are you? There’s blood… blood everywhere.
“The girl. She looked at it before it burned. It was in her hands. I saw her look at the list.”
“Are you saying that she knows the information that I seek?”
Oh, shit. I flinched at what this could mean and then stilled, praying they didn’t see me move.
Sam?
Listen to me. Get out of the dungeon. Move quietly. Get outside. I’m in the castle. I’m going to meet you outside.
“It is entirely possible that she knows the name.”
Beelzebub cackled. “Well, isn’t it convenient that she just happened to walk right into this castle moments ago?” His footsteps drew near and I prepared myself. “And more convenient that I didn’t kill her little boy toy when I had the chance. He’ll make the perfect exchange for the information I seek.”
In a fit of movement, I lunged low and caught Beelzebub around the knees, knocking him to the floor. He gave a shout and I sprang up with a growl and transformed in mere seconds. The hound in me screamed in freedom as I slammed into Hecate, sending her sailing through the air, and she hit the window that Beelzebub had been looking out only moments before. The glass shattered and she might have fallen through—I don’t know. I didn’t bother to stick around. I raced out the door and down the hall.
This time my freedom would not be taken away.
Heven
“It’s not that much. He would have to lose way more blood than that to be…” Cole was saying. His voice sounded far away to my ears.
“Dead.” I whimpered, staring at the red pool of blood that was in the center of the cell. I knew in my heart that Sam wasn’t dead, but whatever had happened down here… it hadn’t been good.
“Reach out to him,” Gemma urged, grabbing hold of my arm and spinning me away from the sight. “Ask him where he is.”
Visions of depraved acts filled my head, memories of the echo of Sam’s pain… of his voice telling me he needed to rest. Oh, Sam. What have they done to you?
Heven, where are you? His voice alive and strong filled my head. It was such a welcome sound that my knees almost buckled. I reached out and grabbed on to Cole.
Sam? Where are you? There’s blood… blood everywhere.
“He’s okay,” I told everyone. “He just spoke to me.”
“Where is he?” Riley asked.
I waited for him to say more, to tell me he was all right, but he said no more. Sam? I asked warily.
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