The Counterfeit City

Home > Other > The Counterfeit City > Page 13
The Counterfeit City Page 13

by Jenna Lyn Wright

Whatever is on the other side, I want no part of it. My first instinct is to back away, but then I remember that I can’t. My feet are rooted to the spot.

  “The Devil’s work is never done,” he says, and grabs my arm, twisting it so my wrist faces up. The dark brand is stark on my skin. “I own you until I don’t,” he says, and his grin makes my blood run cold.

  Lucifer places the key in the lock, twists, and yanks the door open. “Go say your goodbyes, my little Hellion,” he purrs and shoves me out into the abyss.

  24

  The ground rushes up to meet me and I hit the earth with punishing force, landing face down in damp grass. I’ve been thrown out again, left to fend for myself until Lucifer calls, and I’m not sure I want to face whatever it is that he’s placed in front of me.

  I think it’s because, deep down, I know where I am, and I’m not ready.

  Digging my fingers into the cold ground, I push myself up onto my hands and knees and raise my head to find that I am inches from David’s tombstone.

  David King. Beloved brother, son, and friend. And husband, I think. We may not have been given our chance to be married, he was mine and I was his and that was the beginning and end of it. Instead, my part in his life has been erased. Forgotten.

  Grief slices through me, and I sink my fingers deeper into the earth. It is the only thing tethering me here, keeping me stable. If I let go I may shatter into a million pieces and blow away on the wind.

  Every time I open my mouth to speak the lump in my throat chokes me, and this time, instead of fighting it, I let myself dissolve into tears. My own keening fills my ears, and I cry until my throat is raw and my eyes are swollen. The sobs eventually subside, and I sit back on my heels and take a few hitching breaths, swiping a sleeve across my face.

  “I’m so sorry,” I whisper, because it’s all I can muster and all that matters.

  I’m not sure how long I sit there. Long enough so that the damp seeps into the knees of my pants and the light snow that falls begins to coat the sleeves of my jacket and stick to my eyelashes. I would stay here with him forever if I could.

  But something else is here with me.

  Somewhere behind me, twigs snap and there’s a rustling in the last of the leaves that cling to the trees. A sickly skittering sound carries on the breeze, and I cock my head. I don’t turn; I don’t want it to know that I’ve registered that it’s there, but in the corners of my vision I can see the shadows shift and sway in a way that’s not natural.

  Despite my grief, despite the unbearable sadness that cuts a burning path through my center and leaves me aching, my instinct for survival kicks in. My time with David is going to be cut short. Again.

  I reach out and run my hand along his gravestone, tracing his name with my fingertips. “I will find a way to get back to you. I swear.”

  I pull a folded square of paper from my pocket and dig a small hold in the dirt at the base of David’s tombstone. It’s only right that this should be buried with him. I unfold the photo and take one last look at the bungalow that was supposed to be our home. The life that was supposed to be ours. Then I place it into the hole and cover it with earth.

  Whatever’s behind me is approaching. Fast.

  I stand, still refusing to turn.

  After having been chased all around Counterfeit City, it only makes sense that I’d be chased away from David now as well. There is no time to grieve here. No time to reconcile what has happened and what needs to be done. You have to move, or die.

  I press a kiss to my fingertips. Press my fingertips to the top of David’s grave. And then I run.

  The gates of the cemetery are a hundred yards away, and I cross the distance in seconds. Whatever’s behind me is faster, though, and its thunderous footsteps grow louder as it closes the distance between us.

  I burst through the gates, throwing them closed behind me, and spin to take in my surroundings. Lucifer has thrown me into a place I’ve never been before, and I’m not sure what awaits me.

  Then I see it. And him.

  A car idles on the side of the road just outside the cemetery, and Runner leans against the driver’s side door. “Something told me you’d be here,” he says and taps his hand against the door. “Need a ride?”

  I’ve never been so happy to see someone. Racing toward him, I wave frantically. “Get in the car, Runner. Get in. Now!”

  He glances past me, back into the cemetery, and whatever he sees makes his eyes go wide and his jaw drop. He throws open the driver’s side door and dives into the car.

  I race around the side and jump into the passenger seat, hitting the dashboard as I exclaim, “Go go go go go!”

  Only once he’s hit the gas and we’ve peeled away from the entrance to the cemetery do I chance a glance out the back window to see what we’re running from. The creature is big and dark, and it roars, showing me three rows of teeth and a long, black tongue.

  It’s no match for our engine, though, and we leave it in our dust.

  Once we’ve put some distance between us and the Counterfeit that had wanted to spill our blood, I manage to bite out, “What was that thing?”

  “The least of your worries,” he responds, and his eyes are sad as he looks back at me. “Lucifer… you’re here, so I guess that means… you’re here. He didn’t let you go.”

  “No,” I say, and turn to look out the passenger side window, preferring to watch the world pass by rather than see the pity in his gaze. “He didn’t let me go.”

  “I’m sorry,” he says, and his sincerity nearly breaks me all over again.

  “Don’t be,” I say, and manage to wipe away a tear before it can fall. “I have a plan.”

  A tentative smile spreads across his face. “A plan?”

  “I still work for Him. I’m not free. But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to figure out a way to escape.” I turn to Runner, and when he sees the intensity on my face he shrinks away from me. “I will get back to David, whether Lucifer wants to let me go or not.”

  “I believe you,” he says, and his tentative smile becomes a full-on grin. He slaps the wheel with excitement as he glances over. “Where to?”

  I match his smile with my own. “Everywhere, Runner. I’m going to need you to take me everywhere.”

  A WORD FROM JENNA

  Thank you from the bottom of my heart for picking up HELLION: THE COUNTERFEIT CITY. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you did, please consider leaving a review here.

  Next up is HELLION: THE DEAD HEX, coming February 1, 2018.

  You can find me at the following places. Say hi!

  Website

  Twitter

  Instagram

  Facebook

  Notes

 

 

 


‹ Prev