Hell's Gift

by Haigwood, K. S.

  “It is.” He pointed to a great fountain, even bigger than the one they stood in front of in his chambers. “That is the West Court fountain. Heaven is very large, but the courts are what surround Central.”

  “And is, um, Central—where God spends his time?”

  Lucifer smiled that one of a kind hypnotic grin of his.

  It was true that she had been a dedicated minion for over three centuries, but he had taken her memory and molded her into something she was not. The Abigail she’d become was not the same Abigail Rhyan had married, and she craved to be that vibrant young woman again. She couldn’t do that with Lucifer. She had no desire to even look at his beauty the way she had before Rhyan had shown up.

  “No, God doesn’t spend his ‘time’ at Central,” he chuckled. “Explaining God is very simple and very complicated at the same time, so it’s best we don’t try it today, when so much is crowding your mind.” He gestured toward the fountain again and she looked.

  “I thought Rhyan was in Envy. Why are you showing me Heaven? I wasn’t even aware you could look at Heaven through the fountains.”

  When he didn’t respond, Abigail looked at him. He was studying her body language, expressionless.

  “Who told you he was in Envy?”

  Abigail glanced away from him, her face flushing with a rush of red heat. She cleared her throat. “Fallis was here a moment ago. Remember?”

  He nodded once, seeming to appreciate her quick thinking, but it was obvious he thought she was hiding something.

  Instead of answering her question, he looked back to the beautiful canvas before them. Abigail could have sworn his eyes misted over, but then she blinked and his expression changed.

  “This is Envy—”

  “Envy has always been a desert. Did you change it just for my husband to insure his failure?”

  “This is an oasis. It is a figment of Rhyan’s imagination, and in this oasis he has dreamed up everything he wants that he doesn’t have any more. He envies his old life.”

  “So, where is he?”

  “I imagine he is in his chambers making love to his wife. Want to go see?”

  Abigail immediately covered her mouth. Oh, no! Of course she, as a figment of his imagination, would be in Heaven with him already, she thought.

  Abigail hadn’t heard a peep out of that guardian angel of Rhyan’s since right after he’d entered Envy. What was he doing up there? Playing poker? It wasn’t like she could try and summon him right then with Lucifer standing so near, so she kept her cool and nodded. She had to see Rhyan, no matter what he was doing or with whom he was doing it with.

  “Yes.”

  Lucifer touched the liquid again, zooming in across the plains and pastures at warp speed. The image began to slow, bringing into focus a small, white plantation.

  “I would have chosen my mansion to be a lot bigger,” he said, but Abigail never looked up.

  “It’s our house. It looks exactly the same as it did the night I came into your world.” She turned to face him. “Rhyan is simple, Lucifer. He doesn’t expect to have the fancy stuff or require power to be happy. All he needs is love. All he needs is me.”

  He looked back to the small home, the home where she had loved, the home where she had conceived and then taken two lives: her child’s and her own. He seemed uncomfortable all of a sudden.

  “Can you really forgive yourself for murdering your daughter?”

  The intake of breath was instantaneous as she heard the words, but she knew what he was trying to do, and she refused to let herself fall prey to his mental abuse. “It is something I will always regret, but I can’t—”

  “Do you think you deserve to go to Heaven after what you have done?”

  “Yes.” She cleared her throat and looked him in the eye. “I committed many sins, and many sins I have paid for time and time again. I do believe three centuries of you is enough when I truly am sorry. If Heaven can forgive me for the wrong I’ve done, then I can forgive myself. Now, show me Rhyan. I owe you no explanations.”

  The vision of the house came closer and the door opened, allowing the King of Hades and his guest access.

  Tears began to pour from Abigail’s eyes and she did nothing to stop the flow. They were happy tears. She remembered everything about the house and every memory she’d shared with Rhyan under the small roof. But there was sadness in her heart, too, because if she had been faced with the decision to stay there or continue on with the quest, she knew what her decision would’ve been. She would’ve stayed.

  Lucifer led them through the small house, Abigail’s anxiety growing more intense the closer they grew to the personal bed chambers she had once shared with Rhyan. What’s in there? She thought. If he’s in there and happy, I will have no choice but to agree to Lucifer’s offer. I can’t let him pay for my mistakes. He doesn’t deserve an eternity in Hell. It is ridiculous to even make him suffer through another agonizing moment of this place. I have to save him, and I have to do it now. I will tell him good-bye.

  Lucifer smiled cunningly. “Are you sure you want to see this?”

  Abigail nodded and the bedroom door opened.

  The room was empty except for a small chest, a night stand and a full-size bed. There was a sheet of paper lying on the neatly made bedspread she had knitted.

  At first she thought it was all planned, but one glance at Lucifer’s carefully contained enraged expression let her know he had expected to see Rhyan in the bed with a dreamed up version of her.

  “Where is he?” she asked.

  He touched the fountain, bringing the piece of paper into full view.

  Abigail laughed out loud as she read the words on the paper:

  Better luck catching me in the next syde, Lucifer. I’m coming to get my wife. Then it was simply signed, Angel.

  Chapter 40

  Josselyn

  Josselyn could hear the whispered conversation that was going on in the kitchen of the Chamberlain home as Adam cooked breakfast for Kendra and the five angels.

  The two angels Troy’d had stay in her absence had chosen not to leave once she returned. Their excuse had been that they wanted in on any demon slaying, but Josselyn knew better. The angels were the first to the table at every meal, fork and knife in hand. Evidently Adam was a pretty good cook, Josselyn thought and smiled as she wiped at her wet eyes for the millionth time.

  It wasn’t like the front steps were comfortable to sit on, but she just couldn’t face the people in the house as they laughed and joked amongst themselves. The scent floating on the air did nothing to help her mood either. How could they be happy when so much was at stake, when so much had already been lost? She thought, and covered her face with her hands as fresh, hot tears fell free of her eyes once again.

  “Is this seat taken?”

  Josselyn looked up quickly at the interruption and was surprised when she felt her mouth involuntarily curve up into a small smile. She wasn’t afraid of him anymore, for some reason. Maybe it was the fact that the soul of one of her closest friends had been stolen while he tried to save the soul of another friend. She didn’t know, but she refused to believe it was because she was attracted to the demon. It mattered not what her mind was telling her body to do, she made a vow with herself never to give into temptation, where the fiend was concerned anyway.

  “What’s troubling you? Maybe I can help cheer you up. Want me to punch the fool in the nose? It’s the least he deserves for making a beautiful woman cry like that.”

  Josselyn laughed lightly. “Who would you punch in the nose?”

  “Whoever it was that broke your heart. He deserves far worse, if you ask me.”

  She blew out a breath. “Nobody broke my heart—”

  “No? Well, then possibly you broke his…” His hand came up and he brushed the dampness from her cheek with his thumb. “…and the tears are for the kisses you wasted.”

  She looked at him like he had grown a third eye in the center of his forehead. “That was
you. You were here. You saw.”

  Thoros looked away. A beautiful lilac rosebud beside the front steps caught his attention. It was exquisite and perfect in every way. The pureness of something so simple reminded him of her. He reached out to touch the softness of the petal, imagining for only a second that it was the feel of her soft skin under the tips of his fingers. Without another thought, he plucked the rose from the bush and handed it out for her to take.

  “You didn’t answer me,” she said sternly as she snatched the rose from his fingers.

  “You didn’t ask a question.”

  She opened her mouth to argue, then shut it with a quick snap when she realized he was right. “Did you witness Malcolm kissing me?”

  He looked away again, clearing his throat to stall a little longer. “I might have witnessed something of the sort—”

  She looked away from him to the rose in her hand. “It wasn’t at all what it looked like—”

  “I don’t recall you objecting—”

  “I was stunned—”

  “Why are you making excuses? You can kiss whomever you like.”

  “He’s my friend. He has a ridiculous crush on me that can lead absolutely nowhere.”

  “And why is that? You are both angels, both in Heaven. What’s the big deal?”

  “His soul was stolen by one of you!” she shouted, and realized that she was quickly on her way to a meltdown again.

  Eyes wide and utterly confused, Thoros watched and waited for her to elaborate. When she didn’t, he spoke, “Who stole his soul?”

  Josselyn wiped at the hot tears that were stinging her eyes, and desperately wished she had grabbed a tissue from inside the house. “I don’t know.”

  “How—”

  “I don’t know!” she shouted.

  “Well, you have to tell me something if you want me to help. I can’t work with ‘I don’t know’.

  She wiped at her eyes again and huffed. “We had a portal open between Heaven and Hell so we could help Rhyan. One of the demons came through while Malcolm was using the speculum alone, and it possessed him. He stole his soul and gave it to Lucifer. Now, Malcolm is missing because he doesn’t want Lucifer to have access to Heaven. He blames himself for what happened.”

  Deep in thought, Thoros rubbed his chin at the shocking information. He shook his head. “Something isn’t adding up here. Where is the demon now?”

  “We have him locked in a silver cage until I can find a way to get Malcolm’s soul back from Lucifer. And it has to be me, because nobody else seems to care enough to even try.”

  Thoros’ eyes popped wide. “I would know about it if Lucifer had acquired a pure soul. He does not have one in his possession. I swear to it. Who told you this?”

  “The thing told Malcolm he stole his soul and took it to his master.”

  He shook his head. “No, it isn’t possible. An exorcism is the only way to extract a demon from a host. The minion wouldn’t have even been able to get out on its own. Are you following me? If it possessed your friend, there is no way it would have been able to steal his soul, leave the host to deliver it to Lucifer, then return for an exorcism. If he truly stole the soul, then he still has it in his possession since he hasn’t been allowed to leave. And if he has the pure soul within him, I would imagine the silver cage wouldn’t affect him, and he can escape if he isn’t properly monitored.”

  Josselyn jumped to her feet. “You aren’t lying?”

  He chuckled. “Go see for yourself.” He stood, towering over her, and brought his fingers to the softness of her cheek. “If I’m right, do I get something from you for my help? I mean, it’s only fair. You will have your friend back when you find him.”

  She swallowed, suddenly nervous, but still excited at the news that they had all been wrong about Lucifer owning Malcolm. It was very valuable information, and if it was in her power, she would pay the fiend handsomely for it. “What do you want?”

  The corner of his mouth turned up in a half smile. “Just a kiss.”

  She rolled her eyes and tried to smother the excitement of the thought of having those beautiful lips on hers. “Don’t be ridiculous.” She turned and started up the steps, but he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her to his body.

  “Maybe I’m a friend with a ridiculous crush on you that can lead absolutely nowhere. It’s the least you can do for my help in getting your friend back. Don’t you agree?”

  She nodded, looking at his full, pouty lips and fought the urge to tell him to take his payment now. “If what you say proves to be correct, I will let you kiss me.”

  He shook his head, his mouth spreading into a full out mischievous grin. “No. I don’t want to kiss you. I want you to kiss me.” He shrugged his broad shoulders. “I may or may not kiss you back.” He winked, then released her so she could run away from him. He didn’t have a choice. His willpower was thinning to literally nothing. Keeping his emotions tightly in check, he looked up through his lashes at her and waited for the answer. His master plan wouldn’t work if he made even one mistake. The demon stealing the male’s soul was a welcome addition to the plan. He would have her even sooner than he’d anticipated. “What say you? Will you kiss me, Josselyn?”

  “Yes, I will kiss you if the demon still has Malcolm’s soul.”

  “Promise?”

  She nodded. “I promise.”

  The smile on his face spread even further as he started down the steps, away from her. “Well, then I will anxiously await your return, skirt. I’ve been kissed a lot, but never by an angel.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest and hugged herself. She couldn’t shake the feeling that the demon prince would willingly get more than a kiss from her. “I will try not to disappoint.”

  He chuckled as he turned back to face her. “Don’t worry, I’ll let you keep trying until the kissing doesn’t disappoint me,” he said, then popped out of sight.

  She sighed. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

  Chapter 41

  Rhyan

  I was done.

  Done with the royalty. Done with the games. And most of all, done with Lucifer’s petty attempts to make me say I was done trying. I had allowed them to get too close to my heart. Something kept telling me that it was wrong to be in Heaven already, that I hadn’t earned my ticket back yet, and neither had Abigail.

  The oasis had been clever. Even after realizing it wasn’t real, part of me still wanted to stay. I quickly got control of that part of my mind and beat it to a bloody pulp. Thinking like that would cause me to fail. I refused to fail. I refused to let Lucifer win and have control over our souls.

  Of course, what really opened my eyes to the truth was the mental voice of Isaiah. The archangel was in my head trying to convince me it was a fake, while at the same time welcoming me back to Heaven by way of a handshake and a hot cup of tea.

  Red flag.

  He promised to tell me the reason Malcolm was no longer along for the ride, but only after I completed the syde. Besides Abbi, I’d grown closer to Malcolm than anyone, so that pretty much made up my mind if I was staying or not. I left the fake Heaven and all my fake friends and loved ones standing in West Court with distorted, angry faces, but not before leaving a note for Lucifer.

  I was taking a big chance that he had found out I almost gave in to his tricks and was bragging about it to Abbi instead of watching my every move.

  I was out of the oasis and facing the door to the next syde, but something kept telling me it wasn’t time to go through it, that I still had something to do.

  The slightly battered and scarred image of a pretty young woman flashed through my mind and my knees buckled under the sudden thought that I almost walked through the door and left her there. “Phoebe!”

  I ignored the door and ran out into the desert, desperately searching for the girl that had saved me from losing a life in the Syde of Pride. I couldn’t leave her.

  “Phoebe!” I screamed.

  Translucent mi
rages began to pop up everywhere, trying to distract me from finding the girl. Scorpions, big around as basketballs, came at me from all directions, but I just dodged or jumped over them in my rush to find her.

  Off in the distance, I saw something lying on the cracked desert floor. It wasn’t moving, but if it was her it meant she was still alive or she wouldn’t be there at all. I ran toward it, knowing it was my only chance to save her; there was a dust storm swiftly approaching at her back.

  “Phoebe,” I said once I got to her, “wake up. My object was a door. We can go to the next syde now and you don’t even have to do anything except walk through it.” I placed my hand behind her neck and brought her mouth to the rim of the canteen. “Drink, Phoebe.” I looked up at the storm when there was no response from her. It was growing closer. It was only a matter of seconds before it would be right on top of us. Neither of us would be able to survive it.

  After capping the canteen, I shoved it in the pack on my back, then picked her up in my arms and raced for the door. I could hear the roaring on my heels and knew we wouldn’t make it; the door was still too far away. There would be zero visibility and Phoebe wouldn’t know to hold her breath in her unconscious state.

  We were going to have to start over without the memories of what we had already accomplished. As the dust kissed my back, I ran harder and squeezed her tightly to me in the hope that if we had to start over, we wouldn’t be separated.

  My legs began to cramp from dehydration. I was too weak to make it. No matter how much my mind and heart wished for us to go on, my human body wasn’t going to let it happen.

  I let out a roar and pushed with everything I had left. I wasn’t giving up. If it was going to take me, then it would just have to take me, but it wouldn’t be because I had given up.

  I didn’t notice at first that the storm had receded until I had arrived at the door with my hand desperately searching for the knob while juggling the dead weight of another person.

  I stopped, then turned to look behind me when the storm didn’t engulf us.