Sam shrugged. “I guess he figured it wasn’t here. He didn’t know we found it…”
“Then Beelzebub told him,” I murmured, remembering what I saw in Riley’s mind. I looked up at Sam. “Did you hurt him?”
“I wanted to,” Sam began. Then he came to stand directly in front of me. “Beelzebub thinks you have a name, Heven, a name from the piece of the scroll that was destroyed.”
“But why would he think that?” I remembered when he demanded I tell him the name of the Soul Reaper. I shuddered. That person sounded creepy.
“Because Hecate told him you read it before it was destroyed.”
I had. My photographic memory stored that information in my brain automatically. But my photographic memory didn’t work that way. Sure, the information was there, but I didn’t know it. I would have to call the list up in my head and then look at it. “I might have seen that list, but I didn’t really see it.” I tried to explain to Sam.
“Could you recall the list, Heven? Could you see who is listed as this Soul Reaper?”
“Yes,” I said, my voice hoarse. Then I looked up at Sam. “Beelzebub will not rest until I give him that name.”
“Then give it to him.”
“What?” I said, shocked. I looked up into his whiskey-colored eyes and noted he was quite serious. “I can’t do that! I’ll pretty much be sealing that person’s death.”
“If you don’t, you’ll be sealing your death,” Sam said quietly.
“Maybe not,” I said.
Sam let out a frustrated breath. “He put a beast inside you, Heven. If we don’t get it out…” His words faded away until there was only silence between us.
“Airis told me every person on the Map was being protected now that Beelzebub read it. Maybe this Soul Reaper is safe.”
“She told you that?”
I nodded. “Right before she told me I wouldn’t see her again.”
“What if we find the Soul Reaper, tell him Beelzebub is looking for him? The person assigned to protect him can get him somewhere safe where Beelzebub can’t hurt him.”
“That’s a good idea,” I said as a wave of dizziness swept over me. I felt a sudden longing for hell.
“But first we have to get that thing out of you.”
“How?”
“Give Beelzebub a name. Make one up. Tell him something to get that thing out of you. Then he can go looking for someone who doesn’t exist.”
“But when he figures out I lied…” He would kill me. We were trying to avoid that.
“There has to be a way to take him out of the equation,” Sam reasoned. “We can’t kill him, but there has to be a way to stop him, to keep him away.”
“What if we trapped him like he did you?”
Sam looked up. “It would have to be a strong trap.”
I nodded. “We could find my mother and all the other stolen souls and set them free. Gemma says if we do that then a lot of the princes’ power will be lost.”
“So it would weaken Beelzebub?” Sam asked hopefully.
I smiled, real hope blooming in me. It was a good feeling. “I think this is what I was meant to do all along, Sam. We can’t destroy hell, but we can take away a lot of its power.”
“And then you would be safe.” There was genuine relief and longing in his voice.
“We would all be safe,” I corrected.
“Now all we need is a way to trap Beelzebub.”
From the bottom of the stairs, Logan called my name. “We’re supposed to have cookies.”
Sam smiled. “I heard. Thank you for understanding, for forgiving him.” He reached out and cupped my face in his palms. “You feel warm.” He frowned.
“Logan is my family. Of course I would forgive him. I’m warm because I’m happy.” I leaned up and kissed him.
I hoped the feeling lasted.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Heven
My feeling of happiness didn’t last very long at all. I felt like death. And because I had already died once and come close to dying several other times, I could say this with absolute knowledge. If I didn’t get this thing out of me soon, it was going to tear me apart from the inside out until I was nothing but a damaged shell.
Last night was so wonderful. We watched movies, ate cookies and drank soda. Sam and I held hands beneath the blanket and butterflies danced in my belly when he kissed me. It was everything we never got to have, and for the first time in forever I relaxed. I forgot about everything swirling around us and just focused on the present.
When I lay down to sleep, I wasn’t feeling as great physically as I was mentally. Every time I closed my eyes visions of hell overwhelmed me. The back of my head began to squeeze and I was terribly afraid that meant Beelzebub was planning on terrifying me in my sleep. I thought that maybe since he unleashed this thing inside me, he would leave me alone.
I should have known better.
If I had been scared to sleep before (for fear that whatever was inside me would drag me back to its lair), I was downright terrified now. Because of our Mindbond, I couldn’t fool Sam. He could feel my fear so I told him what was going on. He spent the rest of the night sitting vigilant, hunched over me while I lay huddled beneath the blankets, shaking in pain and forcing myself to stay awake.
Just before the sun started to rise, I began throwing up. I felt like the beast was using my stomach as a punching bag, and unfortunately, all the cookies and soda weren’t welcome. After the fourth time of running into the bathroom, I didn’t have the energy to walk back into my bedroom so instead, I lay on the cold tile floor and prayed it would stop. To make things worse, Sam couldn’t be in the bathroom with me because Gran kept coming in to make sure I was okay.
I had to keep a blanket wrapped around me even though I was burning up because I was positive I had new claw marks on my skin. I hadn’t yet looked, but I could feel them burning and stinging every time I moved. I was so exhausted from puking and lack of sleep that the hard floor began to feel comfortable and before I knew it, my eyes closed in surrender.
Hell was there waiting, calling out to me. It promised me relief from the pain. I found myself reaching out to it, wanting to be there. Then Beelzebub appeared, laughing.
“Give me the name.”
I told myself to wake up. I tried to get away.
“Does it hurt much? How anxious is that beast to get out? I promise you that this is nothing yet; your torment will get worse.”
I gasped as my eyes opened. The nightlight on the wall was bright and I squinted my eyes against it. I woke up. I got away. Then Sam was there, lifting me off the floor and carrying me back into my bedroom.
Gran will see you.
I don’t care. I couldn’t wait in your room anymore.
I fell asleep.
He looked at me sharply as he laid me gently on the bed. I gritted my teeth against the fresh stinging pain that stabbed through me. Did you see him?
Yes. He said the pain would only get worse.
Sam’s mouth flattened as he tucked the blanket around me.
I’m so hot. I pushed the blanket away. Sam made an anguished sound and I followed his stare. Welts covered my arms and chest. Before I could say anything, Sam lifted the tank top I was wearing and looked at my stomach. I could tell by the look on his face there were marks there too.
You have bruises all over your body.
It wants out.
I’m going to get it out, sweetheart. I promise.
When the sun came up, I made him leave to do the barn chores. Just because I was sick didn’t mean the horses had to starve. Besides, it was the perfect opportunity for him to ‘arrive’ and find out I was sick. Maybe Gran would finally allow him to come to my room.
I wasn’t sure what time it was when he finally came through the bedroom door, but the sun was high in the sky. He showered and changed because he was dirty from the barn work and the ends of his hair were damp. I smiled when he brushed the hair back from my face and softly
kissed my temple.
“How is she?” Gran fretted from behind.
Sam’s eyes locked on mine. I’m going to move you, sweetheart. It’s the only way she’ll let me in here.
“I think I’m feeling a little better, Gran.” I lied, trying to make my voice sound strong.
Sam lifted me up, holding me against his chest, and carried me downstairs to the couch. I held back the grimace when the fresh claw marks burned. I’m so sorry, baby. I had to bring you down here. I have to be able to stay with you.
It’s okay. I’m fine and I want you to be here. Gran was very generous with the time she allowed Sam to spend here and all the meals he shared with us, but her rule about no boys (except for Cole because he’s my brother) in my room was firm, and I guess not even me being sick was enough to sway her.
Sam was quick to pull the blanket up when it fell off my shoulder and exposed the ugly looking welts. I could see that he had brought some DVDs over to make Gran think we were going to watch movies until I was better.
Unfortunately, I wasn’t going to get better. I was only getting worse.
I started coughing then, a wet kind of cough that shook my chest and brought something warm up past my throat. I put the blanket up to my mouth just as the blood came out.
Sam hunched over me, blocking me from sight and shaking like he might change. Quickly, I wiped the blood away and tucked the red stain beneath my chin. I’m all right. Calm down.
His eyes were wild and his pupils were dilated. His size seemed to swell before my eyes. A fleeting thought went through my mind, but then it was gone.
Sam will you get me some water?
The simple task seemed to center him, give him something he could do, and he nodded and went off to get the drink. It hurt to move, but I reached out with a trembling hand and grabbed Sam’s cell phone that was lying on the coffee table. I quickly dialed Cole.
He picked up on the first ring. His hello was gruff.
“Cole, it’s me.” I stopped to cough again. “I’m not feeling so good and Sam is really freaking out. Could you—”
“I’ll be right there.”
“Bring Gemma,” I told him and then the line went dead. I dropped the phone in my lap and willed the pain to stop.
Sam came back in carrying a large water bottle and a bottle of pain reliever. Gran came bustling in behind him so I forced myself to sit up and smile.
“How is your stomach feeling?” Gran asked, concerned.
I took the water Sam offered and forced myself to take a sip. It seemed to scrape down my throat. “I think it’s getting better. I haven’t thrown up in a few hours.” Coughing up blood didn’t count as throwing up, did it?
“Must just be some twenty-four hour bug,” Gran nodded.
“I was thinking about some of that homemade chicken soup that you used to make me when I was little.”
Gran’s eyes lit up. Like Sam, giving her something to do made her feel better. “What a wonderful idea! It will fix you right up.”
“It always did.”
She frowned. “I don’t have all the ingredients I need, though.” She looked at Sam. “Will you sit with her while I go to the store to get what I need?”
“Of course,” Sam said, picking up a DVD. “We’ll watch a movie.”
Gran kissed me on the cheek and I heard her moving around in the kitchen before calling out a good-bye and closing the door behind her. I let out a hard sigh and let myself rest back into the pillows. My whole body was shaking from the effort of sitting up.
“You’re not as good as you let on,” Sam said, looking at me.
“She’s been coughing all morning,” Logan said, coming down the stairs with a sullen look on his face.
I was saved from answering because Gemma came through the door. She came over to the couch and looked down, her gray eyes apprising me. She came around the couch and held out her hands above me. I knew she was going to try to heal me. I also knew it wouldn’t work. But I let her do it anyway because even if I got only a little relief, it would be welcome.
I didn’t get any relief and after several minutes, I told Gemma to stop trying. It was only making her tired. Cole arrived and stood over me, looking like he was waiting for me to die.
Gemma pulled out the books from her leather bag and dropped them on the table. “There has to be an answer in one of these,” she said and began flipping pages. She knew the books like the back of her hand and she turned the pages with confidence, like she knew exactly where to find the answer.
Everyone began reading. Silence fell over the room. Another coughing spasm burned my lungs and blood filled my mouth. I ran to the bathroom and vomited more blood than I cared to see. Intense pain seared down my back and I collapsed on the floor. Then everything went dark.
*
I woke to the sound of arguing. Sam was holding me—clutching me—against his chest as he stared down Riley. They both looked down when I groaned.
“What’s going on?” What was Riley doing here?
“Heven?” Cole said from somewhere off to the side. “Let me see her.” I felt a tug against Sam and he turned so I could see Cole.
“Hey.” He reached out to touch me and Sam jerked me away. Cole scowled at him but returned his attention to me. “You’re in some rough shape, huh?”
“I’ll be fine.” I don’t know why I even bothered to say that anymore.
“Can we go already?” Riley said.
“Meet us there,” Sam told him. “If you make it through the portal, we’ll ride with you then.”
“I’m telling you it will work.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not willing to risk her life on it! She’s already half dead!” Sam roared. Everyone gasped in shock that he would say such a thing. Even he paused and looked down, shame in his eyes.
Don’t worry about it, Sam. I know what’s happening to me.
“We’re going,” Sam told everyone and took off running. I turned my head to see the fountain. We were in Portland and he was taking me through the portal into hell.
The knowledge actually relieved some part of me and I felt a small burst of energy. Maybe now the beast would stop pummeling my insides for a few moments. He went right through and landed smoothly on his feet, absorbing all of the impact. I looked up and saw his eyes were pure melted gold and I knew he was holding back the hellhound within.
“You can put me down,” I offered.
He smiled. “Are you kidding? Did you see what Riley wanted to do? Who knows what’s going to happen.”
Sam turned as the portal opened up once more, looking like a large swirling black hole. Then I heard the sound of a revving engine and squealing tires. The portal seemed to widen and then all of a sudden a Jeep Wrangler burst through and came skidding over in front of us. Sam dashed backward as the Jeep jerked to a stop. Riley leaned out the window, which was unzipped, and grinned. “I told you it would work.”
“You drove a Jeep into hell?” I asked, more alert than I had been the entire day.
“Walking around is boring,” he quipped smartly, but when he met my gaze, his eyes were serious.
He came to help me. After everything, he still came. He could have left by now, should have, but he was here. That didn’t make everything he had done right. I was still beyond mad, but I had to admit any help we got was better than none. Hopefully, he wouldn’t betray us. Again. “Well, it definitely looks like something you would drive.”
It was army green and had a scuffed-up tan soft top. The tires were huge and I knew if I wanted to ride in it, I would have to climb in. There were huge fog lights on the roll bar at the top and written across the windshield in green letters was: Eat My Dirt. It also had a very long antenna with one of those yellow smiley face balls at the top.
He gunned the engine. “Get in.”
Sam seemed to have no trouble climbing into the Jeep while holding me. I didn’t expect to see Gemma, Cole and Logan sitting in the back. Sam seemed surprised to see them too. In fact, h
e scowled.
“I’m not staying behind,” Cole said tightly. “She’s my sister.”
“Fine,” Sam spat coldly. “But I don’t have time to watch your back. Heven comes first.”
“Sam.” I gasped. He didn’t apologize; he barley even glanced at me.
“I can take care of myself,” Cole snapped.
“Logan, you gotta go home,” Sam said, seriously.
“I want to help. Sitting around isn’t going to make me any better.”
Tirade Page 31