Death Lies Between Us (An Angel Falls Book 1)

by Jody A. Kessler

  I look away from his earnest face and across the lawn at all the people. Every face is distinct; every life is unique and filled with happiness, sorrows, accomplishments and pitfalls. Everyone has a beginning and an end and everything in-between is perfect in some giant web of life. It’s laid out before me clear as crystal. Juliana deserves a life as much as any of these people.

  “What are the other risks? Eternal damnation?” I ask only half joking.

  “Is that what you want?” He raises one dark brow at me speculating.

  “Feel as if I might be experiencing it right now.”

  “Decisions are made at the time they are needed,” he says.

  A sudden gust of wind rocks the trees around us and thunder rolls across the sky. I turn to watch the crowd. Hats take flight and hundreds of faces look to the heavens.

  “I don’t think the worst will happen,” he says. “I’ve seen it before, but it’s rare indeed.”

  I look back at my friend. His dark features and those dreadlocks are so incongruous to his nature, until he smiles. But he isn’t smiling now.

  “I’m glad to hear it. Are you going to fill me in or hope for the best?” When he doesn’t answer, but only stares me down, I add, “What’s the worst thing that can happen to someone like us?” My motor still hums. Impatience grows like a blossoming fungus as I know Juliana’s time is limited. I want to be with her.

  “You already know, brother. It doesn’t get any worse than Liam. He can never come back. He’s one of the fallen.”

  Chapter Twenty-three: Search and Destroy

  Juliana

  The darkening gloom threatens to break loose over my head at any moment. The storms sudden urge to move in and take over matches my own growing need to retrieve Jared as soon as possible. How far am I willing to go to do it? I don’t know, but I have to keep moving. I follow the white car, keeping enough distance between us to see if the car’s taillights turn. What if they’re headed to the city? Will I follow them? It’s an hour’s drive. I keep watching and try not to give in to my growing trepidation. My rule of three can’t be taken lightly. There’s no mistaking it. The universe is telling me to pay attention right now.

  When the brakes lights on the back of the Z brighten, it dawns on me. Like being smacked up-side the head, I should have known as soon as we were driving west on the highway. Their car slows and turns right onto a forest road. The road to Castle Hill.

  I drive past the turnoff, disgusted with myself. Of course they’d be headed there. I drive away, but the nagging synchronicity of seeing my brother three times tugs at me and I have an irresistible urge to follow through with my crazy un-plans. Castle Hill though, I whine. I’ve already been there two times too many. That will make this a third time too many. Great, three times a charm. I need to rein in my sarcasm. It’s getting a bit out of hand. Another three and it’s meant to be. I rhyme inside my head. I’ll never be able to forgive myself if something happens to Jared after I’ve been told to act. That’s it. I whip the car around and head straight for my brother. I have to try.

  Dead set on retrieving Jared, manhandling him if need be to make him come with me, I notice nothing until, with a halting lurch I stop the car in front of the imposing iron gate. I have a brief vision of ramming it with my car but it passes. I’m not going to break and enter; I’m just going to enter. I look at the call box dubiously. What if Mason answers on the other end? I can picture it all too well. “Hey Mason, what’s up? I came to pick up my brother, who you’re selling drugs to right now.” And he’ll answer, “Anythin’ for you darlin’. Come on up, cherry lips.” Nope! Absolutely out of the question.

  Before I can decide what to do next I see the flash of headlights weaving in and around the tree trunks from up the drive. Is it them? Are they done already? I wait and watch with my eyes peeled, my hand glued to the shifter in case I need to back up and make a run for it. My mind races trying to conceive a reasonable story to get me entrance if it’s not Mason and Jared. No, I’ll slip in as the gate opens for the vehicle leaving, and pretend I’m supposed to be here. Keep it simple, right?

  My Saab creeps through leaving barely an inch between my bumper and the black iron. I try to ignore the driver of the pickup truck but as I pass by they have their window down. I look up at the charcoal gray sky willing the rain to start so I won’t have to answer anything personal, like why I am trespassing, but it holds back on me. I roll down my window.

  “Hey, I wanted to thank you for the ride last night.” I make my voice sound as casual and pleasant as possible.

  “I am surprised to see you here,” Chris Abeyta says.

  He sounds harsh and then I remember last night. I don’t have time to get into that right now so I say, “Yeah, you too.” And I pretend not to remember how awkward and tense it was in my driveway. I was whacked out after all. I look up the drive as if I’m looking for the castle even though I know it can’t be seen from this distance.

  He doesn’t reminisce either. “I needed to finish up what I started yesterday.”

  “Oh sure. Get everything done?” I shiver a little, not knowing if it’s from the open window or from remembering the feelings I got from the pump house and everything I saw with Chris.

  “Not exactly. I ran into a complication.”

  I nod my head as if I understand completely, which of course I don’t. He stares down at me stony faced.

  “You should go home. Stay away from here.”

  “I have to pick up my brother and then I’m leaving immediately,” I assure him.

  “Mr. De’Lao is not home. Are you sure he is up there?”

  “I’m sure. Okay, well, see you.” I shift into gear and drive off throwing Chris a wave. I can’t hear the last thing he says. I have to keep moving or I’m going to lose my nerve. Ignore Chris’s intense black eyes and his uncomfortable scrutiny. Ignore the fact he just told me I should go home, and get on with this.

  There’s not a car or a soul in sight as I peer up at the looming front entrance of Castle Hill. No lights shine from inside. Black windows reflect the gray sky and the gray stones. A dreary cold radiates from the place. I harden my invisible shell and stick to my decision. I decide to drive around to the back lot, but there’s no white Nissan here either. Looking over my shoulder at the row of garage doors, I assume it’s probably parked in there. My gaze shifts to the apartment above, visualizing my brother inside. If he’s there, well then that’s just too bad. I won’t go knocking on Mason’s front door for all the rice in China. I’m not suicidal.

  I will, however, ring the bell on Lance’s front door as any respectable guest would do and ask for Jared. This time I grab all the folds of my skirt before closing the car door. With determination painted on my face, I walk toward the castle and then stop. The stage door opens part way, pauses, and then closes again. It appeared as if someone was going to come out, but changed their mind and went back inside; only I couldn’t see who did it from where I stand. I listen for voices but there aren’t any. In fact, it’s silent. Even the trees are as still as lead soldiers. My grandmother’s medicine bag starts to hum under my shirt. Great, not again. I’ll grab Jared and get out of here, I swear. The slight scraping sound of my flimsy shoes seems to echo across the stone pavers, so I soften my steps trying not to intrude on the heavy silence. I look straight up gauging how much time I may have before the ball drops and the odd purple gray-green clouds let loose whatever it is they have in store for the afternoon. Not long.

  I feel a shift in the air from high above, and then like a tendril reaching down from the sky it touches my sixth sense before it actually happens. A horrendous gust of wind hits me and I simultaneously grab for my flying skirt and run for the castle. I’m temporarily blinded by the swirling locks of my hair and have to work at disentangling it from my face. While distracted with this battle, my heart tries to leap out of my chest as a flash of lightning and earsplitting crack of thunder strikes. The concussion of the thunder passes through my body and I
’m inside the stage door before the light show is even over.

  My fingers and toes feel numb and my heart beats erratically. I cling to the wall as the effects of the jolt wear off.

  “Hello,” I call out like a timid rabbit. I don’t see anyone. Where did they go? I saw the door open and close, but I can’t see anyone inside “the church.” I look around the dimly lit space. It’s much the same as last night, minus all the people and the platters of food. I listen again for anyone who may be near and I’m unjustly rewarded with another crack of thunder. Even muffled by the stone walls, it’s loud enough to make me jump, but not so bad as to take another year off my life. I walk across the massive floor to the studio door. If Jared is here he should be in or near the studio taking care of band business, I reason with myself. The studio door is locked. I press my ear to it, listening for my brother’s rich tone. Nothing, darn! All right, this is crazy. Go wait in the car.

  As I pass by the bar I think I hear someone. I even think I hear my name. It’s barely audible, but definitely a male voice. I take a few steps closer and I hear it again. “Jules…” I look at the wood paneling remembering the hidden access to the hallway and kitchen. No. Don’t go sneaking around Lance’s house. I strain to hear if it’s Jared, but I can’t be certain. Forget it! I yell at myself and start to leave again, feeling more than silly. But this time, I hear someone for real, coming from outside the stage entrance. The angry gruff voice sends me into panic mode as I convince myself it’s Mason. I run for the bar and cower behind it like a little girl hiding under the bed from the boogie man and feeling about the same way. Did he see me?

  It’s definitely Mason. His slime had left a burning scar on my memory. I hear the door slam closed across the room. Mason is barking mad at someone. I cringe deeper into my hiding space as he yells.

  “Tell me you’ve been in the shop!”

  There’s no reply. Who is he screaming at? Where’s Jared?

  “Somebody’s been in there and it had better be you!”

  A short pause, followed by, “I’m sure it wasn’t Lance.”

  He must be on the phone. Should I run for the door or escape into the house? Oh God, what am I doing? I hear his footsteps and he’s getting louder. I make myself stay still and I clasp my hand over my mouth as a string of nasty cusswords boom into the room.

  “Get your sorry ass over here. We’re moving everything.”

  Another short silence, then, “Fredrick, now!”

  He sounds as if he’s on top of me. A deafening crash over my head seems to split the bar in half but somehow it manages to hold together, unlike my resolve. I hear him move on the other side and I cry inside. Where is Jared?

  “What the fu…?”

  I hold my breath and pray he’ll leave but my prayer must’ve been turned down. A black boot rounds the corner of the bar. I shrink back as far as I can. Can he see me? My lungs begin to burn for fresh air but I’m too freaked to breathe. I take my eyes off the boot and look for any kind of weapon. Then I notice with terror what I fear Mason may be seeing.

  My stupid, stupid, stupid skirt! With its long length and too many folds of fabric, it’s hanging out. It’s literally a red flag.

  Two black boots move into view.

  I grab the fire extinguisher tucked under the bar, moving and screaming at the same time. “Jared!” I throw the red barrel at Mason’s head and dart through the secret door into the hallway. I hear growling and cussing and a heavy thud. I know I hit him but how much time had it bought me? A second, maybe two? I dive across the hall and through the other hidden door to the kitchen. Inside the butler’s pantry I hear a male voice again, from up the stairs. I don’t think it’s Jared but it’s someone. I throw myself up the narrow staircase. If I can get up them before he sees me…

  I trip on a stair. The crack of my bone hitting the step is as loud as the thunder outside. A burst of fear strikes me down equal to the pain of feeling my shin break. Mason must have heard it as well. I scramble upward. I’m tripping, and stumbling, and tearing through the skirt. I move with all the adrenaline my body can produce but it’s not fast enough. I hear him thump up the stairs behind me. I dare to look and see red fury on his horrible face. A door at the top of the stairs stalls me for a fraction of a second as I throw it open and I feel a hair ripping tug. My head whips back and I scream bloody murder.

  “It was you. You nosy bitch!”

  I fall back onto him. He tightens his grip on my hair and I continue to scream for help. He forces me through the doorway and grabs hold of my arm, twisting it behind my back.

  “Shut up!”

  He doesn’t say it, but as I scream louder he yanks harder on my arm. If I don’t shut up he’s going to break it. I scream anyway.

  He lets go of my hair and spins me around pushing me against the wall and crushing me with his massive body. My left arm is pinned behind my back and he catches my right arm before I can claw his eyes out. His free hand moves up the length of my body and wraps around my throat.

  “Stop that!” he orders.

  It barely registers. I have no idea how to stop my panic but his fingers crushing my windpipe takes care of the screaming and all I can do is try to get my next breath.

  “Did you find what you were looking for?”

  My fear of him magnifies as I watch the control he has over his black rage. I want to say no, I don’t know what you’re talking about, but all I can do is manage a shake of my head. The soulless hatred in his eyes is more than I can face. I stare at his horrible teeth and try not to smell the stale sourness of his body and breath.

  “You’re a lyin’ whore. You’ll be dead and gone before you’ll ever turn me in.” He growls his threats and spittle hits my face.

  Movement catches the corner of my eye and I think for the briefest of moments someone has come to my rescue. I struggle harder with this glimmer of hope, but it only makes Mason increase his pressure. My arm feels like it is about to snap off at the shoulder. Fighting a brick building is more difficult than it sounds. The movement is there again, a shifting in the light. It’s someone, but not anyone who has come to help.

  I gurgle out a choked scream as the man drifts across the hall toward us. Mason feels my reaction and throws a look where my eyes are glued, but he sees nothing. He refocuses on me and I can see decisions being calculated inside his maniac brain. The gray light from the window at the end of the corridor is enough for me to see that the man is real and not real. He glides right up next to Mason, watching both of us. He looks down his nose with a sneering grin on pale thin lips. With absolute horror I look through the thing. He’s translucent. I shift my eyes to Mason’s face and his lips twitch in a vicious smile. Each face is terrifying beyond what I could’ve ever imagined.

  The ghost’s head wobbles slightly as he says, “I was calling for you. Thank you for coming, Jules.”

  His voice is a wispy, chilling breeze.

  He leans toward Mason and then melts into him. The two terrors in front of me become one laid over the other. I see them both. The deep set eyes and narrow nose shadow the heavier features of Mason. Mason is oblivious to his visitor but I can see the extra layer of control moving inside him. Now four crazed eyes watch me. Something about them shifts turning for the worst. Together they become magnified, a malevolent, dark, violating monster.

  “No!” I try to yell but nothing comes out as I read the evil intention on their faces.

  “You found my secrets, now I’m gonna find yours,” he drawls. It sickens me and makes me want to heave on his shiny boots.

  Paralyzed with fright and force, I watch the two faces of evil. They’re both intent on similar goals. Mason jabs a knee between mine but only manages to bruise me. He lets go of my wrist and rips at my skirt. As soon as my hand is free, I go for his eyes. His head whips and twists out of my reach, like a threatened viper. I feel an icy burn as I touch the ghost inside him, but it doesn’t stop me. I’ll scratch all four eyes out if I have to. He presses harder on my thr
oat making breathing next to impossible. Even as I claw and thrash I begin to lose consciousness, everything becoming hazy.

  Let this end, I pray.

  Thumping on the stairs drags me back to hell. And then I recognize the voice.

  “Jules! Where are you!”

  Mason reacts to the sound of Jared by shifting us both over and trying to kick the door at the top of the stairs closed. He misses the first attempt and I take the opportunity to knee or kick or whatever him in the crotch. I make contact with his inner thigh causing him to grunt. The face over his smirks; it’s a hideous expression as his soulless eyes crinkle with dark amusement. I buck and kick at Mason. He kicks the door closed again just as I see a hand reaching through. The door slams closed and I hear Jared scream in agony. Mason throws us over in front of the door, but Jared fights back and then inches through.

  Mason’s weight on my chest and throat is too much. I can’t get enough air. Blackness creeps in around the edges. I see Jared’s beautiful face and it looks like he’s being torn apart by anguish, or pain, maybe both? I struggle as hard as I can, but I can’t hold back the black. I begin to fall through space… empty, velvet space. Brutal grunts and crashing sounds are nearby and far away. I can’t hold on. I’m free-falling now, and then I’m free.

  Chapter Twenty-four: Rescue

  Nathaniel

  “So the stories are true?” I ask Marcus.

  “Some are, some aren’t. But take it seriously, Nathaniel.”

  The iron weights in the pit of my stomach are pulling me toward Juliana, but I can’t go to her yet. Ranking is the best way to describe it. Marcus outranks me and others outrank him. I can’t leave our meeting until Marcus is finished with me. As I watch him, I have to wonder if he’s delaying me on purpose. If I’m not there in time for her… I stop the thought. Marcus knows this as well as I do. He drums his long fingers on the table.

  “How many are there?” I ask.