Still leery this was a ploy, I kept my hands raised defensively. I inched closer until I could poke the fur of his tawny shoulder with the toe of my ballet flat. “Gabe?”
Wide, feline eyes jerked one way then the other in obvious panic. The rest of him remained rigid and statue still.
“Huh.” My hands fell limp to my sides. “Uh … Big Mike? I think I broke our lion. Mike?”
A cursory glance over my shoulder revealed this problem for the bigger dilemma it had fast become. Our newly appointed Guide stood frozen mid-motion. One fist propelled forward while his body pivoted slightly on the ball of his foot. His wings didn’t curl in to shield him, but arced up and back in a stance that exuded power and a regal strength. As he appeared now I could foresee outsiders, without the knowledge of his tobacco addiction or general distaste for people, mistaking him for a certain archangel he happened to share his name with.
From his frozen prison, Big Mike blinked hard and stared my way … as if I had any plausible answer to give.
Again, all I could muster was a befuddled, “Huh.”
I turned in a slow circle as a familiar tingle raced up my spine. Something demonic this way comes.
A devilish cackle echoed through the room, followed by a taunting melody stolen from a Meatloaf song, “On a mild summer night would you offer your throat to the demons with the black roses?”
“You have got to be kidding me.” I groaned, and then hollered to the room in general, “No! We are not doing this tonight! You hear me?”
“They promise to offer you their hunger …” Whispered words tickled across my neck.
My balled fist swung in the direction of the voice, but struck nothing but air.
“I bet you do that to all the demons.” Five voices, I knew well enough to dread, chorused. In practiced synchronization the Dark Army Glee Club poofed corporeal—each in their own unique ta-da pose.
Conversation with this band of goobers never accomplished anything. Plus, I was having a monumentally crappy night. Therefore, I decided to skip ahead to the inevitable violent conclusion. If I execute my roundhouse kick just right I may be able to make their heads knock together like in the cartoons …
“Red! Now!” Eddie, the closest thing these oddballs had to a leader and dead-ringer for Eddie Munster, shouted.
His lanky, red-headed cohort fumbled with what looked like a bottle of glass cleaner. I winced, but continued en route for my attack as he misted me with the mysterious shimmering blue liquid. Mid-rotation my limbs locked up—one leg and one arm out, with nothing to do but hang there and stew in my extreme annoyance.
The rag tag group of misfits crept forward, their faces squinched up in masks of sheer terror.
“Are you sure it worked?” one Siamese twin asked his brother.
“That would be a hard position to maintain if she was faking,” the other twin snorted and pushed his thick glasses further up the bridge of his nose. In human form they were connected at the shoulder, an appearance much preferred to their other guise as a huge, two-headed flying lizard.
Boil Face waved his wrinkly hand in front of me. “Still, she’s the Conduit. If anyone has the reflexes to pull off a decoy move like this, it’s her.”
“How do we test her?” Eddie tipped his head back and crinkled his nose as he considered me.
“Ooh! I know!” Red’s face brightened with enthusiasm. Latching on to my ankle with both hands, he dragged me around in a circle. I was a prisoner to this idiot spinning me around and omitting a gleeful, “Wheeee!”
Eddie stepped in the way to block another rotation. “We’re here for a reason and this isn’t it.”
The dejected fire-demon pouted, “I know, but it was fun.”
Spinning to face me, Eddie instantly grimaced at the hate-filled gaze I’d fixed on him. “You look mad. Are you mad? Blink once for no and twice for yes.”
I blinked about a hundred and fifty times.
“I think that means she’s super mad,” Boil Face guessed.
“Or, it means she wants to rip our limps off and beat us with them.”
I blinked twice.
Eddie leaned his bony elbows against my leg and rested his chin on his hands. “You have every right to be mad, but we needed to talk to you and had to find a way to do it so that you would actually let us talk. Since the very first thing you did when you saw was turn into punchy-kicky girl, I think even you can agree that our method here was an effective one.”
I blinked once and sincerely wished I could follow it up with a hand gesture.
“No? Really?” one twin scoffed.
“Now she’s just being argumentative,” his brother tagged on with an indignant huff.
“How about this,” Eddie reasoned. “If I free you will you promise to listen?”
I answered with two rapid blinks.
“Listen without hurting us?” One of Eddie’s eyebrows drew up toward his wicked widow’s peak. “Because we’d be acting in good faith and letting you go.”
I blinked once, hesitated long enough to think really hard, then blinked a second time.
“Good!” Eddie grinned and clapped his hands together. “Then we can carry on this conversation like …”
“Oh, look at me! I’m a pretty, pretty girl that likes to dance and twirl my long beautiful hair.”
All eyes flicked toward Red … and Big Mike. Red had draped Mike’s robe over his head to give the building-sized Guide mock flowing locks.
Eddie cleared his throat. “Uh … you do realize when I unfreeze her, he’ll be free, too?”
Red stopped dancing and snatched the garment off Mike’s head. “I’m sorry. Please don’t kill me.”
If laser beam eyes were an ability of Mike’s, Red would’ve been eviscerated.
Eddie turned my way, his face full of apology. “We just want to talk, no violence. If we wanted to hurt you we could easily have done it while you were frozen. You get that, right?”
Begrudgingly, I blinked twice.
Eddie spoke a few words I couldn’t make out and my momentum picked right up where it left off. I lurched forward and fell to the ground in a heap of my own limbs.
Quickly untangling myself, I leapt up with my hands still balled into fists.
“You promised!” Eddie squealed and shielded himself behind his arms.
“I did.” My hands fell, but only a little. “Talk fast.”
“First things first, your boys are going to be up soon. Can you make sure they don’t pummel us? Please?”
“I’ll do my best, but they’re both real independent thinkers.”
A split second later the spell wore off. A snarling, snapping lion and an enraged winged-thug raged forward, destruction blazing in both sets of eyes. Calling forth my telepathy, I held them at bay, but purposely allowed them enough wiggle room to keep our unwanted guests from getting complacent.
“Like I said, talk fast.”
Gabe morphed back and covered himself with an old garage sale sign that had been leaning against the wall. “You almost ruined my wedding! I couldn’t care less what you have to say!”
“Your wedding to the girl you just abandoned in the Spirit Plane?” By his expression it seemed to physically hurt Eddie to point this out, but he took the chance and did it anyway. “Maybe we were doing you a favor?”
It took my telepathic hold, both hands on his chest and a fair amount of super strength to stop Gabe from ripping the trembling demonic twerp apart. “How did you know about that?” he spat through elongated teeth.
“We were following you!” one twin screamed and huddled with his brother in a cowardly hug.
“Six went in, only four came out,” his brother finished.
I shoved Gabe behind me and turned to glare through narrowed eyes. “The Countess is watching us? Why?”
“The Countess isn’t watching you, we were!” Red rambled at top speed. “We wanted to find out if the rumors were true.”
My gaze flicked to Gabe then Big Mike
. I saw my own trepidation reflected on their faces. So much had happened tonight, so many truths revealed. Spilling secrets to these proven traitors wasn’t an option. If they knew something vital we couldn’t let them out of this garage alive.
I steeled my spine and squared my shoulders, wordlessly signaling playtime had ended. “What rumors?”
“That Barnabus is still alive!” Boil Face erupted, his loose skin wobbled and shook with jittery zest.
His friends nodded along like wide-eyed, eager pups.
“Who told you that?” I cautiously asked.
“Remember that Goth chick, Kat? The one that showed up at his wedding and made us blow the place up?”
“Nobody made you do anything.” I didn’t have to look back to know Gabe’s attributes were taking on a more feline likeness. I could hear it in his dropped octave rumble.
The glee clubbers exchanged leery glances before they shoved Eddie forward to finish the story. He scowled over his shoulder at his “friends” before he continued, “She showed up in the Underworld making all sorts of crazy claims. She said you cracked her arm over your knee like a twig.”
“That’s not crazy.” I shrugged. “Totally true.”
Eddie turned his head and whispered behind his hand to his friends, “Anger management, anyone?”
“So, the rest must be true, too!” Red quite literally lit up. A spark, like the ignited wick of a candle, burned in his irises. “She did work for Barnabus! He really is alive!”
“We liked Barnabus. He’s so much cooler than the Countess. Sometimes he’d even riff with us.” Boil Face’s shoulders rose and fell in anxious, spastic shrugs.
“He’d riff with you?” Gabe sneered.
I wet my dry lips and cast a sideways glance at my brother. “Day in and day out we fight. Never once have we ever spontaneously broken out in song. Are we doing something wrong?”
“If you ask Keni, yes.”
If one look could imply the message ‘I want to tear your head off with my bare hands and punt it like a football’ it would be Big Mike’s fixated glare on Red. “So, your old boss is back. Why would you risk coming here for that?”
The gangly demon shifted uncomfortably, his zealousness temporarily snuffed out under the weight of Mike’s stare.
Eddie stepped between them, his dorky façade slipping slightly to tease at his true calculating nature. “The girl said that Barnabus wants the Conduit to fight on his side. The Countess is in a tizzy over it. But if the two big bads go head to head we want on Barnabus’s side. The Countess’s reign needs to end.” His beady gaze shifted my way. “And, if the rumor’s true, that you’re leading that fight alongside him, we want in.”
Seven pairs of eyes turned to me, as if expecting me to lead the charge and storm the gates of hell right then and there. My heart thumped in my chest. This got way too intense, way too fast. “This is a demonic battle. It has nothing to do with me.”
Big Mike caught me by the arm and dragged me to the corner of the garage, using more force than was really necessary. Size-wise he towered over me, yet he curled down to my level to whisper in my ear with a harsh urgency. “We don’t have allies right now. The Council shunned us, but the attacks will keep coming. We need help in any form we can get it. Trust isn’t necessary to fight beside someone with a mutual goal.”
I peeked around Big Mike’s tatted up arm to the band of demons whispering amongst themselves. Behind them, Gabe shrugged his confusion on the matter.
“I’m the Conduit,” I muttered mostly as a reminder to myself. “I’m not supposed to lead demons.”
The twins seemed to hear me and separated themselves from the pack to inch closer. “If the rumors are true …” one began.
“ … wouldn’t helping us get you what you really want?” his brother finished. I doubted that the looks of woeful pity etched deep into the lines of their faces were authentic, but they sure as heck were convincing.
Gabe’s elongated ears perked. “What is it you really want?”
I struggled to keep my voice steady. Now wasn’t the time to break down and get all squeaky, sobby girl, even though I really wanted to. “Barnabus promised to bring Caleb back if I help him.”
Gabe’s topaz eyes snapped open wide and he nearly dropped his garage sale sign. “Cee! That’s huge! You should be turning back flips over this! We get to kill the demonic mistress of the night and you get your boyfriend back!”
“Yeah!” The Glee Clubbers bounced up and down, feeding off of Gabe’s enthusiasm.
“Sure, we know we can’t trust these guys,” Gabe rambled, his gusto for the idea gaining momentum. “Worst case scenario they betray us and we kill ‘em. Easy as that. Why are you even hesitating?”
Eddie’s head whipped in Gabe’s direction. “Whoa … that took an ugly turn.”
Why was I hesitating? I opened my mouth and snapped it shut. Oh, how I wished Keni was there. All it would take is one look and she would understand exactly what I was feeling without the aid of my empathic skills. But no, I was drowning in a testosterone hell. After another false start, I gave up on the notion of the right words magically tumbling from my mouth. There was no way to vocalize the predicament I was wrestling with, mostly because I didn’t completely understand it myself. It wasn’t that I didn’t want Caleb back, the exact opposite in fact. Each day for me still began as it had since the morning I awoke in Ireland with the bed beside me vacant. As the sun rose each day it roused the gnawing ache in my heart that flared to life with an agonizing reminder of what had been and what was lost. The question then became: If the pain was this intense after all this time, why was I hesitating?
Because I want it too bad.
From the second Barnabus posed his offer I wanted nothing more than to jump at the chance to do whatever it took to get Cal back. I’d even don the skank wear a la’ Kat if it meant even the slightest chance to hear that silky brogue again. I wasn’t weighing my options or calculating strategies because that would require straight thinking and a level head. When it came to Caleb I couldn’t manage either, and that was exactly why I couldn’t say yes. I had a calling in the fight for good over evil, to do the right thing and make noble decisions even when they sucked. However, I couldn’t see past my former love. He wanted to be free of the shackles of his demonic side so desperately. How would he feel if I succumbed and he learned of the line I crossed to get him back?
No.
Until I knew my own motivation was pure I couldn’t say yes—at least not yet.
“I … I just can’t.” My warrior nature bristled at the tears that threatened behind my eyes. With the weight of their stares burning into my back, I spun on my heel and bolted from the garage.
“Celeste, wait.” Of all the people I anticipated following me, Boil Face was at the very bottom of that list.
I heaved a deep sigh of annoyance and gave serious consideration to ignoring him. “What?”
“You … you didn’t ask the right question.”
I ground my teeth together and peered at him over my shoulder. “Yeah? And what’s that?”
Boil Face shoved his hands into the pocket of his loose fitting cargo pants and stared up at me from under his saggy brows. “How were we able to be here?”
A foreboding chill skittered up my spine, causing my instincts to snap on high alert. “I just figured you were sent to stab me in the back. You know, the usual.”
His pointed pink tongue darted out and raked across his lower lip. “We deserve that. But you know the Countess wouldn’t let us be here without her consent.”
“So what is it she sent you here to do?” I turned to face him, my taut muscles set on a hairpin trigger.
“Easy.” He raised his hands in retreat. “She just gave me a message to deliver—one that has to be pretty darn important. She granted all of us our freedom in exchange for it.”
My hands came up as I struck a defensive stance. “What message could possibly be worth a prize that big?”
&n
bsp; He peeked behind him to ensure no one had followed or was listening in. “The object that you’re hiding from your family? The one Barnabus gave you? It’s a very powerful artifact. There’s a reason he gave it to you and it’s much more than he may have claimed. The truth lies in the location he wants the showdown with the Countess to occur. It’s called The Gateway and only a human can carry that discus across its threshold.”
“Why?”
“All she told me is that if a demon brings the discus in, Heaven itself will unleash a fury that will destroy the entire place and all its occupants. In exchange for that transport Barnabus claims he’ll give Caleb back to you, and make no mistake he does have the resources to do it. But it comes at a price. That very same discus holds the answer to a riddle that has plagued you for some time now.”
I didn’t realize I’d been holding my breath until I had to exhale to ask, “What riddle?”
“Touch Barnabus’s chest, right over his heart, while inside The Gateway … and your friend Alec is free.”
Chapter 9
Fate, with her depraved sense of humor, could never make life’s choices easy. To bring Caleb back I had to sacrifice Alec. Free Alec, and I would lose Caleb forever. Misery would haunt either decision. I could order up closure with a side of sorrow, or contentment tossed with a heaping bowlful of guilt.
I nodded to Boil Face to let him know I understood then made my retreat into the welcoming confines of the house. The kitchen still smelled of this morning’s bacon, which prompted my stomach to rumble its discontent at the mere idea of food. I yanked my hair tie out as I passed from the kitchen to the dining room. My fingers raked through the knotted strands before I twisted them back up into a tighter ponytail just to keep my trembling hands busy.
“I can’t make this decision,” I muttered to myself, kicking my shoes off in the foyer. “Won’t matter if I weigh my options every day for the rest of my life, I can’t do it. Fighting nasty demons? Getting sliced and diced by supernatural boogeymen? Sure! I got those in the bag. But this? Nope. Nada.”
Seeing the light on in the living room, I ventured in hoping to unload this latest development on Grams. Instead, I found her dozing in her leather recliner with an afghan draped over her legs. Mascara streaked her face, remnants of the tears that had fallen. This weary vulnerability seemed out of place on someone so animated and sprightly.
Ascension (The Gryphon Series) Page 6