by Tara Fuller
Someone cleared their throat and Easton stopped. A soft glow lit up the dark cave, splashing light onto the stone walls like melted gold. A rush of cold turned the sweat dripping off of my nose to ice.
Balthazar.
He folded his hands behind his back and sighed. Behind him, yellow glowing eyes blinked from the corners.
“You just couldn’t listen, could you?” he said, stepping toward me. He looked over my shoulder at Easton and jerked his chin. “You can go. I’m sure you have plenty of other work to do.”
Easton squeezed my arm once before releasing me. “What are you going to do to him?”
“That’s none of your concern.” Balthazar’s eyes glowed as he narrowed them on Easton. “But if you’re intent on staying, maybe we could arrange something for you, too.”
Easton hesitated in the doorway, his violet eyes burning with regret. Then he stepped into the darkness. I stood still, listening to the splash of his footsteps until he was gone. Lifting my chin and tamping down the fear inside of me, I looked at Balthazar. He had his own brand of regret settling across his face, but it wasn’t enough to change anything. He was probably more upset he was soiling his bright white robe, which was soaked in blood from the ankle down.
“Possessing a human?” Balthazar hissed. “Are you trying to make a fool of me? Did you honestly think it could go unpunished?”
I shook my head and considered ratting out Scout, who clearly wasn’t on Balthazar’s radar, but I didn’t. I’d known the consequences of my actions. They were mine and mine alone. “What’s next?” I asked, bracing myself. Balthazar didn’t answer right away. Instead he strode forward and nodded for me to follow. He ducked under the low, dripping rocks and when we came up on the other side, we were met by a crystal clear pool of water. Not understanding the compelling need to see it, I stepped forward. A rippling reflection of myself stared back at me, stone-faced, afraid. Something dark swam under the surface and my reflection smiled and waved, then burst into flames. Black skeleton fingers broke the surface and pulled the reflected Finn into the depths.
I wiped the sweat out of my face and swallowed a fresh batch of fear down my throat. “What is this?”
“Your worst fears. Your nightmares.” Balthazar looked into the water and smirked. “A place where they all come to life. Everyone’s Hell is different. This one is about to be yours.”
I closed my eyes and inhaled the rotten smoldering stench of this place into my lungs. I’d known this was going to happen. I’d been leading up to this moment for the past two years. But knowing didn’t make it any easier now that it was here.
“Please take care of her,” I said. “I might deserve this, but she doesn’t. Assign her a guardian. Send someone after Maeve. Anything. Just don’t leave her alone with my mistakes.”
“Emma is not my concern,” he said, grudgingly, as he turned to leave. “And she’s not yours anymore, either.”
“Balthazar, wait!” I reached out, but he was gone. A cool white fog lingered where he’d been standing, but the heat was quick to snuff it out.
Before I could pull in another acrid breath, the air was suctioned out of the room. My lungs burned and my eyes watered. The walls began to weave together, black vines crawling, braiding, and locking me in. I spun around and the glistening reflecting pool was gone. All that was left was a gaping crater.
Vines crept up from the center, piling on top of one another until they spilled up over the edge. They smelled like they’d been soaked in jet fuel. I couldn’t breathe. I didn’t want to breathe. But God…I needed to breathe. I hadn’t needed to breathe like this in seventy years. One of the vines at my feet sparked and a slim flame swirled around the stem. The black leaves burst into ash as it danced closer and set another vine ablaze.
“Not this. Please,” I whispered to myself, and only to myself. Anyone here would only roll on the floor laughing at my plea for help.
Another vine went up and scorched the toe of my shoe, and I stumbled back, tripping over my own legs. One by one, the vines caught fire. Closing me in. Tighter. Tighter. I pressed my back against the heated stone wall behind me and curled into myself in a nest of vines. The black billowing smoke blinded me and fear took over.
The ground shuddered under me and I grabbed at the vines on either side of me. But I didn’t find vines. I found the sides of a sweaty vinyl seat. I looked up and the cockpit was filled with a choking black smoke. A flame stretched up from the back and licked my shoulder. I slapped at my jacket, trying to put it out.
“Not real. Not real. Not real.” I repeated it like a prayer, knowing it wouldn’t matter. My fist battered the dashboard as I watched the gauges spin out of control. I jerked at my seat belt, but it wouldn’t budge. The buckle to my harness had melted under the heat. A high-pitched whine filled my ears. I looked up a second before the ocean crashed in through the big cockpit window. Broken glass slapped me in the face. Salt water stung my charred back. I sucked in a lungful of…water.
Shit!
I sputtered in the black water and sucked in another gulp of wet brine that set my lungs on fire. I couldn’t tell up from down. My fingers grasped for something solid but found even more water. And when the world started to go black…it felt way too good not to let go.
My eyes flew open and a gut-wrenching scream ripped through the cave. It took a second to realize it came out of my mouth. That I wasn’t in the plane anymore. Flames crawled up my pants. My shirt. I shut my eyes and choked when the flames leaped onto my face. Through the inferno, Emma held Henry’s hand. They were burning, too. Burning and melting and reaching for me and I couldn’t move.
I couldn’t breathe.
“Stop!” I screamed through my ruined lips. They felt numb now. At least there was that. Slowly, the red world in front of me turned to ash. Gray. Cold. I closed my eyes and shivered, curled onto my side.
The flames were gone, and for a moment I thought they might have mercy. I thought they might just let me stay numb. But when I opened my eyes again, a new nightmare unfolded like an origami bird, slowly stretching out before me.
Pop’s farm.
I sat up and ran my hands over the frost-covered ground. The peach trees, brittle and dead, swayed under the cold pewter sky. An empty whistle of wind swept past me, stirring their branches. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t home. Ash, soft as petals, fell from the sky as I blinked at my surroundings.
“Pop!” I stopped to listen. Someone whimpered behind me and my muscles locked in place. It sounded far away and faint, but it was a whimper. I skirted through the peach trees. Trees I’d climbed in and broken bones in as a kid. Trees that had given us purpose. A life. I laid my palm against the crumbling bark of a tree and it turned to ash beneath my fingertips. The whimper crept up my spine, this time from behind me. I spun around and found Pop leaning against a tree. Black and charred.
Clinging to life.
A sob welled in my chest, and I fell to my knees in front of him. His calloused hands reached out for me and I grasped one of them in mine, ignoring the way they scorched my skin.
“Pop…no.”
“You left,” he gasped. “You left us.” He said it over and over until my ears wanted to bleed. Behind me, trees erupted in flames until the field consisted of nothing but heat and ash and disfigured memories. I backed away from Pop and winced when a flame sprang to life on my back. It crawled down my arms, setting my fingertips ablaze.
He was right. I’d left. I’d burned. And now I was dead.
Chapter 33
Emma
“Cash?” I shook Cash by the shoulder, feeling so raw and afraid inside that I could barely breathe. He didn’t move. I pressed my ear to his chest, listening to his heart pound out a steady rhythm. “You have to wake up. Please wake up.”
He’d been out an hour. That couldn’t be normal. What was I saying? None of this was normal. I’d just made out with my dead boyfriend while he was in possession of my best friend’s body. Any shot I had at normal
was long gone by this point. All I could think was that we’d broken him. If this had hurt him, if he didn’t wake up…
No. He’d wake up. He had to. And where was Finn? I needed him right now. He’d just disappeared.
No warning. I realized he had an unconventional job, but after what had happened between us, a little warning would have been nice. I slid off the bed and began to pace. My head was spinning with memories. Finn’s hands and lips. Cash’s hands and lips. Oh my God. What did we do? How could I have let that happen?
Cash groaned and relief exploded to life in my chest. I sank down onto the bed and pulled my fingers through his hair.
“Cash,” I said, softly. “Are you okay?”
He squinted up at me.“What happened?”
I smoothed my hand over the comforter. “You…um…you passed out.”
Cash sat up and rubbed his head. “Shit. I feel like I got hit by a truck. How much did I drink?” He looked around and his brows pulled together. “And how did I get over here?”
I opened my mouth but the words refused to come out. I’d already used him—I didn’t want to lie to him, too.
“Hey.” Cash leaned in to touch my arm, but I jerked away before he could make contact. I couldn’t have him touching me right now. Not after Finn had just been touching me with those same hands.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
Cash ran his hand over his bare chest, then froze. His gaze wandered over his body, as if he was taking inventory of every detail. With a gasp, he scrambled back and fell off the bed, then jumped up, breathing hard. “What…what did I do?” He motioned between us. “What did we do?”
I stood up too, knowing I needed to look at him, but I couldn’t. Not yet. I stared at the wall beside him. “You didn’t do anything.”
“Don’t give me that bullshit, Em.” Cash shoved his fingers through his dark hair and leaned on my vanity, then shot back up like he couldn’t keep still. He rubbed his lips and groaned. “I can taste that peppermint lip crap you use, for God’s sake!”
“Cash…” I couldn’t finish. I didn’t know how to. I wanted to say I was sorry. I wanted to hug him and beg him to forgive me. None of that would come. The pain and guilt in my throat wouldn’t let it.
“Look at you. You can’t even look at me.” Cash strode forward and reached out as though he was going to touch me, but he stopped as if he didn’t know if that was okay anymore. “Please tell me what I did. Please? I’m sorry, Em. I am so—”
“We kissed, okay?” I sucked in a deep breath, feeling dizzy with the force of my words. This half of the truth was the only answer I could give him, and the only thing that would make him stop feeling guilty. And I was terrified it was going to change everything. “You were drunk. And we kissed. And now…now we’re going to forget it ever happened. Okay?”
“Did I hurt you?” He looked horrified, his eyes wide. He looked ready to break.
“God, no!” I grabbed his hand and forced him to sit on the bed with me. “It…it was just stupid, okay? It didn’t mean anything. Right?”
He looked me over, uncertainty coloring his features. “Do…do you want it to mean something?”
I sat back, brows pulled together. “N-no. Do you?”
He stared at me for one terrifying second, then shook his head. “No. I don’t want to ruin this. I don’t…I can’t risk losing you, Em. If I ever went there with you…” He swallowed and dropped his gaze. “I’d ruin it. I would.”
“Hey.” I nudged his leg, feeling relieved and guilty all at the same time. “You didn’t ruin anything.
I’m still me. You’re still you. And we’re still us. Nothing’s changed.”
Besides the fact that I am officially the worst friend in existence.
Cash rubbed his jaw and shook his head. “I have got to stop drinking. I really am the king of asshats when I’m drunk.”
I listened to another gust of wind beat the side of the house and shivered. Cash wrapped his arms around my shoulders and rested his chin on top of my head. I sat there quietly, trying to dissociate the feeling of his touch from Finn’s.
“I really am sorry,” he whispered.
I shook my head, the guilt eating me alive. “I don’t deserve you, Cash.” He needed to know. I could never tell him the whole truth, but I’d at least give him this. “You are a better friend than I’ll ever be to you. You should know that.”
Cash pulled away and smiled, his lips tilted in that crooked little-boy grin that he never seemed to outgrow. “I think that’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard you say.”
I stared out the window, at the snow piled up outside and the foggy film forming across the glass. I couldn’t look at Cash. Not when all I could see was Finn.
Chapter 34
Finn
“Get up,” a familiar voice said above me.
Easton? I tried to pry my eyelids open, but they felt like they’d been melted together. They probably had. My palms found the warm wet stone beneath me. It felt sticky under my cheek. I wanted to get up. I wanted to get the hell out of this place but my limbs wouldn’t work. Pain burned under every inch of my skin. My skull. The dull echo of horrific memories pulsed behind my eyelids.
“Don’t be a pansy, Finn. It’s only been forty-eight hours. Get. Up.”
I swallowed and pushed, but the movement only ground my cheek further into the muck underneath me, which smelled like blood and ash. “Can’t.” My voice sounded like sandpaper. It felt like it, too, as it crawled its way up and out of my throat.
“Son of a—” Boots scraped along the stone in front of me and stopped. “Can somebody take care of this? This wasn’t the deal. I can’t do anything with him like this.”
After a few more seconds of agony, something started to happen. A tingling sensation started in my toes then blazed through my legs, my fingers. Something swelled in my chest, then raced up my neck until it burst like gold behind my eyelids. And then…nothing. A familiar numbness swept over me. No pain. No nothing.
I cracked an eye open and blinked at the black combat boots a few inches from my face.
“Time to get up,” Easton said. “Humpty Dumpty’s together again.”
He offered his hand to help me up, but I slapped it away and climbed to my knees. “What’s going on?” I swayed. “Is this…is this real?”
“You’re free,” Easton said. “Balthazar made his point.”
“Made his point?” I glared at him. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
I stood up and the room tilted off-balance, so I closed my eyes again. It was over? God….it was finally over. I patted down my body, making sure everything was as it should be. When I was sure I was still me, I turned and stomped out of the cave. No vines or flames blocked my escape. I shook my head, feeling sick inside.
Easton followed behind me. “Finn…wait.”
“Don’t.” I held up my hand and blindly hiked through the screams. “Just…don’t.”
“I was following orders. Besides, if you’d have stopped being such a dumbass, this wouldn’t have happened. But you’ll go right back up there and do it again, won’t you? And Balthazar will give you another waste of a chance.”
I stopped when we reached the iron gates and clenched my fists, feeling like I was about to snap in half. I couldn’t take anymore right now. I was too raw. “I can still feel the flesh melting off of my goddamned bones, and you’re going to give me crap about Emma right now? After you dragged me here?”
“I didn’t have a choice!” he shouted. “If you want to blame someone for this, look in a goddamned mirror.”
“Screw you.”
I didn’t wait for his reply. Instead I barreled out into the whirlwind of ash outside the gates. I closed my eyes, immersing myself in the fiery wind around me. When I opened them again I was standing in Scout’s uncle’s garage, vibrating with rage. And pain. And things I didn’t want to think about ever again. I knew it was my fault, damn it. I’d known going into
it. But I was starting to think too much had built up between Easton and me. I wasn’t sure if we’d ever get back to the way we were before.
And that bothered me more than I wanted it to.
I took a deep breath and shuddered. If Scout wasn’t here, I didn’t know what I was going to do because it would be a cold day in Hell before I went back to that bar, and I needed his help before I could deal with the Emma situation. Clenching and unclenching my fists, I scanned the dusty garage. I still didn’t trust him after finding out what he was doing with the humans at that bar. I was still pissed.
But I wouldn’t be a hypocrite after what I’d done. And I’d have to get over it if I wanted his help.
“Why don’t you just punch the damn wall and get it over with?”
I spun around too quickly and silvery tendrils of vapor went in every direction.
“Hope you didn’t come for a fight. I’ve never been any good at fighting.” Scout fell back onto the dusty sofa, twirling a piece of a truck engine in his hand. “And if I’m being honest there’s no way I’d try to hit you. Not when you’re carrying around that crazy-ass scythe. You’ve had more experience with yours than I’ve had with mine. It wouldn’t be a fair fight and you know it.”
“I didn’t come for a fight.” I glanced from the red F-150 parked on the other side of the room, then nodded to the piece of metal in his hand. “What’s that?”
“I don’t know.” He shrugged and a familiar grin caught both sides of his mouth. “But the old man won’t be able to start his truck without it.”
“Why do you still torture him? He is your family, you know.” Remembering all of the stupid stunts Scout had played on his uncle over the years, it was a wonder the old guy hadn’t had a heart attack by now.
“I’ll stop messing with him when he stops messing with me. One trick all those years ago and he still messes with the Ouija boards and crap. Like I’m some ghost of Christmas past that’s going to come back and tell him how to fix his screwed-up excuse for a life. Do you know how much the man spent on phone psychics last year? Enough to buy a freaking new car, that’s how much. The man’s a moron. And until he stops being a moron I’ll continue to screw with him.”