Only One I'll Have (UnHallowed Series Book 4)

by Tmonique Stephens

  “Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors,” Scarla continued.

  Kushiél’s rough voice took over. “Lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil.”

  “For thine is the kingdom and the power and the glory, forever…” Chay picked up.

  “Amen.” Sophie finished. She reached for Chay’s hand and he met her halfway. Then she reached across to the front passenger seat and squeezed Kush’s shoulder. UnHallowed didn’t pray. Not for any reason. After all, there was no one to answer the prayers of demons, especially not the Supreme Being who cast them out. “Thank you.”

  Kush hung his head and gave a small shrug, while Chay brushed her knuckles with a light kiss.

  “We’re here.” Scarla drove the car under the emergency department awning.

  Sophie hopped out and ran into the hospital. She noted the half-empty waiting room, the flat screen with the news on mounted in a corner of the room, the four vending machines under the TV. The antiseptic scent layered with something foul seared her nostrils. All of it so familiar, she’d spent more than enough time sitting in different ERs waiting to be patched up. She made her way to the triage desk. Chay hooked her waist and lead her through the electronic doors.

  “She’s in bed ten,” he said before she got out a question. A second later, Riél appeared standing in front of a room. “How is she?” Chay asked as Sophie paused at the threshold, suddenly frozen. Afraid of what she’d find, she peeked around Riél’s oversized body.

  Her mother was flat on her back with an oxygen mask covering half her face and more tubes snaking from her arm. Her chest rose and fell at a regular interval. Combined with the steady beeping of her heart, Sophie let out a relieved breath.

  “Along with all her other issues, she has pneumonia. Also, she told the doctor she stopped taking all her medication,” Riél said.

  “What?” Sophie rocked back on her heels. That couldn’t be. She’d seen her medication…but she’d never seen her mother take any. She’d assumed.

  Ah, fuck! “W-Why would she do that?” A soft sound rose above the beeping machines. Her mother’s eyes fluttered, and her hand rose to touch the oxygen mask.

  Sophie rushed to the bedside and smoothed the damp hair away from her sweaty forehead. “Mom, it’s okay. You’re in the hospital. They’re gonna make you better.”

  A man in a white lab coat entered the room. He’d better be the doctor. His gaze went straight to her. “Miss Charles?”

  “Yes.” She met him at the end of the bed and read his name tag. “Dr. Henry. How bad is it?”

  He sighed and though he had a good poker face, Sophie couldn’t miss the telltale grim line his mouth settled into, the tightening of his features, and the sad droop of his eyes. “Your mother is very ill. Not only has she stopped taking her meds for her COPD, I spoke to her oncologist and she’s ignored his advice.”

  “What advice?”

  “She needs a lung biopsy.”

  “I know that. Dr. Lacey is in the process of referring us to an oncologist here, in—”

  “I spoke to Dr. Lacey. She refused the biopsy. He also wants to try another round of chemotherapy. Again, Mrs. Garner has refused. His office has called her every day, but he can’t get through. Seems she blocked his number.”

  “Damn it! We’ve been here a few days. I’m relocating her here, to Detroit. Every time I’ve brought up the subject of calling her doctor, she claimed she’d already spoken to him and was waiting for him to get back to her with the name of an oncologist nearby.” She turned back to her mother, ready to shake some sense into her.

  “Your mother is very ill. We need to get the pneumonia under control, then her COPD. If we can get those stable, we can address the masses in her lungs and breast.”

  “If?” Sophie whispered. Suddenly weak, she leaned on the railing.

  “Your mother is very ill, Miss Charles. We’ll do the best we can. But…she coded when Mr. Riél brought her in. Once we got her back, she asked for a Do Not Resuscitate order.”

  Huh? “What’s a Do No Resuscitate order?” she asked, aware of Chay coming to stand next to her. He towered over the man, but no less than Riél and Kush and Scarla.

  Dr. Henry glanced at the people surrounding him and cleared his throat. “If your mother stops breathing or her heart stops, she doesn’t want to be brought back. She wants us to let her die.”

  Chay caught her before she slipped to the floor. “You ca-can’t mean that. She doesn’t know what she’s saying. She’s confused. You have to do everything to save her.” She gripped Chay’s hand and pulled him closer. “Make him save her,” she whispered furiously. He could do it. He made her forget Ozzy’s brutality. He could make the doctor forget a Do Not Resuscitate order.

  “Sophie, I—”

  A hacking cough exploded from her mother. Sophie dashed to the bed, reaching her at the same time as the doctor. He shouted a few orders and a nurse rushed between Kush and Riél. The head of the bed lifted, tilting her mother at a forty-five-degree angle.

  “Mom. Mom. Mom!”

  Her mother gave another hard, bone-rattling cough and ripped the mask off her face. “What?” she wheezed. “I’m right here.” Her watery voice almost broke Sophie’s heart.

  “You have to take back the Do Not Resuscitate. You have to take it back right now.”

  “No. Tired. So tired,” she rasped between ragged breaths. “Don’t want to live like this.”

  Sophie gripped her mother’s thin shoulders. “You’re not gonna live like this because you’re going to get better.”

  Her mother’s eyes fluttered closed. Sophie had a moment of panic even the steady beeping of the machines couldn’t quell. Seeing her mother lying there, so still, body free of tension, she may as well be dead already. Sophie wheeled around to Chay. “You can force her to change her mind. Or force the doctor.” Her gaze darted to the nurse and Dr. Henry, who waited, both passive, clearly under mind control.

  Chay’s grim features surpassed that of Dr. Henry’s. “I can, but I won’t.”

  She got within inches of him, her neck strained to keep eye contact as she ground out, “What do you mean you won’t?”

  “She has a right to die the way she chooses.”

  “The way she chooses? The. Way. She. Chooses.” She almost laughed at the irony. “I seem to recall making a similar decision two years ago. You and Scarla made a different decision against my will.”

  His lips flattened into a grim line. “That was different, Sophie.”

  “How!” She punched his chest and bruised her hand in the process.

  “You didn’t have pneumonia and COPD, and lung and breast cancer. You were at the beginning of your life, not the end,” he said quietly.

  “She’s not!” she screamed. “I refuse to believe her life is over because she’s given up. I haven’t given up.” Sophie rushed back to her mother. Sobs tore from her as she brought her mother’s hand in for a kiss. I can’t lose her. “You said no one would die today. You promised me.”

  “I was wrong.”

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Those had to be the hardest words ever to leave Chay’s mouth. His anguish was plainly displayed on his face, but so was his resolve. He was going to let her mother die.

  That’s not fair, Sophie’s conscience screamed while her heart had a different idea. She walked around Chay and weaved between Scarla and Kush. She kept going as Chay called her name, stopping only when she was across the street from the hospital, in a small grassy area between two of the hospital’s other buildings.

  There were a few people there—a guy on his cell, a mother watching her two kids playing tag, an elderly man nursing a cup of coffee as the sun waned. They eyed her with open speculation.

  Sophie avoided them all in favor of a wrought iron bench under a thin tree. She sat, crossed her legs, and that’s when she realized she had flip-flops on her feet and the dress she was wearing was nothing more than a see-th
rough cover-up for the bikini she had on. And she didn’t give a flying fuck. How could she when her mother was dying.

  She knew what she had to do, what she shouldn’t do, but…too many people had already died. Losing one more would kill her.

  Crossroad demon, huh. She glanced at the paved street with the double yellow line down the middle. Well, she wasn’t near any crossroad, but she wasn’t near one when Celine first approached her in Key West. The demon had found her, not the other way around. That had to mean something. More than something. Celine wanted the Cruor, and the only way she’d get it was through Sophie.

  She cleared her throat and for some idiotic reason, looked to the sky, as if Heaven would help. “Celine, I’m ready to make a deal.”

  “What do you have to offer?”

  Sophie jerked around to her right and there she stood, the Crossroad Demon. Had anyone seen her pop right out of thin air? Judging by the blank stares and the way the few around her kept going about their business, either they saw and didn’t care, or the demon had somehow blocked their perception. Regardless, it worked in Sophie’s favor.

  “My mother’s life for mine.”

  Celine smiled, and a cold chill ran down Sophie’s spine. She sat next to Sophie, crossed legs and folded her hands in the same manner as Sophie. Her clothes were different. Leather pants the color of butter with a matching jacket over a white lacy blouse. She gave off a cultured sophisticated vibe of one who had money to spend on any frivolous thing her heart desired.

  Celine inhaled a breath Sophie knew she didn’t need and said, “Agreed. I’ll heal your mother and your soul is mine.” She produced a knife from the pocket of her jacket and sliced the center of her palm. “Give me your hand.”

  Without hesitation, Sophie obeyed and didn’t wince as the knife sliced deep into her flesh. Celine pressed their palms together. Heat raced up Sophie’s arm followed by bitter cold. Both sensations stabbed her heart. She shuddered, her limbs flopped around, and her head fell back onto the bench. Boneless, all she could do was watch the clouds sail by in the darkening sky as her lungs searched for air and Celine mumbled some words in a language so foreign, Sophie’s eardrums threatened to burst.

  Celine released Sophie and rose from the bench. Sophie glimpsed a portion of the demon in her peripheral. She wasn’t as pretty from that angle. Her creamy skin was the color of mud and pockmarked. Her hair was dingy and gray. The alter-image vanished when Celine pivoted and came fully into Sophie’s line of sight. Celine leaned close, close enough for Sophie to peer into midnight eyes and see the emptiness inside. An emptiness as vast as Hell. “Go check on your mother. See that I’ve kept my word.”

  All at once, Sophie could move again. Terrified for herself and Ellen, she lurched to her feet and ran through the park. Chay stepped out of the shadows and into her path. “Let me explain.”

  “Get out of my way.” Chay latched onto her shoulders, stopping her from barreling into his chest.

  He lifted her off her feet and brought her level to his height. “I know you’re angry, but…” He paused, his nostrils flaring as red crept into his eyes. His sniffed her hair, her neck, and growled as red bled from his eyes. “What did you do?”

  “What I had to,” she shouted, squinting from the blinding glare of his gaze.

  His focus shifted from her to a point over her shoulder. “You’ve crossed a line, demon.” He plopped Sophie back on her feet but kept his hands on her.

  “I’m a Crossroad Demon. I’ve crossed thousands of lines in my lifetime. This line is no different.” Celine’s voice held no fear.

  Chay shifted in front of Sophie and latched onto her wrist to keep her locked to his side. “Release her,” he demanded.

  “No,” Celine replied coolly. “Sophie,” she called out. “Don’t you want to see your mom?”

  Sophie yanked her wrist free and didn’t stop running until she reached bed ten.

  It was the laugh that halted her a few feet from the entrance. Her mother’s effervescent laugh that drew everyone in and spread like a contagion. Ellen’s laughter was contagious. Scarla’s laughter joined her mother’s mixing with Riél’s. Hope flooded her heart, giving her a natural high, Sophie practically floated into the room. Her mother sat at the edge of the bed, her feet dangling like a three-year-old, a rosy tint to her once pallid skin, and a twinkle in her eyes. Her skin was smoother, wrinkle-free, with a radiance she’d lost to time and cancer.

  “Hey, sweetie.” She waved at her daughter. “See, nothing to worry about.”

  ~~~~~

  “You’re very handsome.” The Crossroad Demon gave Chay a head to toe body sweep and strolled forward, her hips swaying to an internal beat. “Which one are you?”

  She was a pretty package with long black hair, heart-shaped face and lips painted blood red if that were all there was to her. The demon couldn’t hide her true self from him. Beneath the lovely wrappings lay a cesspool.

  “Which one are you?” she asked again.

  “The one who will make you pay.” Chay reached for her. She vanished before he made contact.

  “Are you certain of that?” she said from behind him.

  Faster than she could vanish, he spun and clamped his hand around her throat. “Very certain.”

  She didn’t seem overly concerned about him snapping her head off. And why should she be? She had the upper hand and they both knew it. Not only did she hold a contract on Sophie’s soul, if he killed the demon, he’d have to take her place, which would cast him back into Hell with one of the Demoni Lords as his master.

  “Before you do something you’ll regret for the rest of your immortal life… I would check on your lover,” she wheezed.

  If he had blood, it would’ve curdled. His grip tightened until she clawed at his hand, a thread of fear snaked through her eyes. It pleased him. “Why?” He relaxed his hand for her answer.

  She said between sips of air. “Don’t worry. I’ll wait right here for your return.”

  “I don’t think so. You’re coming with me.” Chay kept his hand fisted around her throat. He marched her through the emergency department, between brainwashed staff and patients, right back to Ellen’s room.

  Where he found Sophie, standing next to her mother’s bed. Her mother—Ellen appeared twenty years younger—and Scarla were laughing, while Sophie’s cheeks were wet. From tears of joy or what came next? Chay wondered.

  Their eyes met, hers, unapologetic, yet the spark he so loved died with the abruptness of a candle snuffed by a tornado. In the next instant her skin darkened to a grayish tint and her eyes rolled back. She buckled in slow motion, first her knees, then her hips, spine, neck, and head. Her muscles gave into gravity, causing her torso to fold in on itself, her limbs to flop, and her head to roll.

  Chay didn’t catch her. He watched her hit the floor—dead—and felt the impact in his bones. She had Scarla and her mother, plus all the nurses and doctors rushing into the room. It wouldn’t make a difference because Sophie had sold her soul to the devil. He owned her now with the Crossroad demon as the broker.

  He slammed the demon into the nearest wall. To his left, Riél. To his right, Kush. Both backing him up. He could hear the doctors working on Sophie. They’d picked her up and dumped her in her mother’s bed. Ellen wouldn’t leave Sophie’s side, even with Scarla pulling her out of the way.

  He eased his grip on the throat clutched in his hand. “What do you want? Speak quickly.”

  She took a struggled breath and said, “I want you.”

  His lips curled in disgust. He couldn’t hide it.

  “I wanted her, but you would be much, much better,” she wheezed. Her aura, before a cesspool, was now threaded with blue. Confident she had him over a barrel, she moved a hand from gripping his wrist to his chest. He batted it away rather than give into the urge to rip her entire arm from the socket.

  “You do realize any dick you get from him is gonna be lousy? I’m talking half-mast at best, most likely softer than mi
crowaved butter, ‘cause he’s in love with her.” Riél pointed to the bed.

  “Shut it, Riél,” Kush growled.

  Thank you, Kush.

  The demon chuckled. “And the Cruor. Give me both and I’ll void the contract on Sophie.”

  “I agree,” Chay said.

  “What the fuck!”

  “You will not do this!”

  Chay ignored the side-by-side chorus. The woman he loved was dead. Nothing else mattered. He released the demon and pointed to Sophie. “Fix her.”

  The Crossroad demon snapped her neck from side to side and backed away from Chay, while the doctors shouted instructions at the nurses to charge the paddles. She pulled a blade from the pocket of her leather jacket. “For her life and her soul, you will submit your body and your will to me. You will be my shield, my protector from all who would do me harm, and you will bring the Cruor to me, or she dies.”

  “You can’t do that,” Kush said before Chay could respond.

  “I can, and I will,” she answered. The demon assumed Kush spoke to her. Chay knew differently. “Her freedom is conditional on his submission to me and deliverance of the portal to Hell to me.”

  “I’ve already agreed,” Chay said.

  Kush yanked Chay by the back of his neck and dragged him to the nurse’s station, where he spun Chay, shoved him into a wall, and kept him there with a hand to the chest. Not so long ago, Kush had him by a few inches. Not anymore. Chay allowed Kush the manhandling because this may be the last time they were on the same team. Crimson bleeding out of eyes, his nostrils flaring, Kush blocked Chay’s path back to the Crossroad Demon. “You cannot do this, and I’m not talking about you becoming that bitch’s bitch. I’m talking about the Cruor—”

  So much for a brotherly goodbye. Chay broke Kush’s hold, gripped him by the shoulders, and tossed the larger, heavier UnHallowed into Riél hard enough to send both crashing through the opposite wall and into an adjacent storage room. Braile’s grace surged through his body, bringing a portion of the strength that made him what he once was, The Powerful One, and damn it, he felt good, a formidable force almost with no equal. Quickly, he listed his powers. Not all had returned, and he suspected some never would, but the ones that had, he would rely on.