by Karen Kelley
“And the man you’ve been fucking?” His words were silky smooth. “Do you have him figured out yet?”
Her heart stopped, then began to pound inside her chest. Vetis knew about Chance. That she’d made love to him. Her gut told her there was something terribly wrong.
“What do you mean?”
“Do you really think he will return to Hell with you? That you’ll have your quota and the two of you will live happily ever after for all eternity?” He circled behind her, then stopped in front and ran his hand down the side of her face.
Destiny gritted her teeth at the burning pain he left on her skin. She wouldn’t let him know how much his touch burned, but it was all she could do not to cry out. And beneath the pain, she wondered how he found out about Chance.
“Do you love him?” Vetis casually asked.
“Of course not,” she lied.
“You probably think he loves you, too,” he continued as if she agreed with him.
What did he know? His expression told her nothing as a sick feeling began to form in the pit of her stomach.
“I watched the two of you today,” he ground out, but the whole time he smiled.
Fear so intense that she swayed swept over her. Please don’t hurt Chance, she silently begged.
“I saw him plunge inside your body and the look of ecstasy on your face. I never saw that look of passion on your face when I fucked you,” he snarled.
“No, it was only sex,” she whimpered.
“Only sex?” he roared. “Is that why you told him that you loved him?”
“I’m sorry.” Everything began to crumble around her. How could she have let her relationship with Chance go so far?
“You don’t even know he’s playing you for a fool.”
She stilled, her heart falling to her feet.
No, this was just another game he played, but one look at his serious expression and she knew this was not a game he played. “What do you mean?”
“You’ve cast me aside for a nephilim, you stupid, stupid girl! An immortal!”
The room began to spin. Vetis lied! He lied!
Chance couldn’t be immortal.
Chapter 20
Vetis suddenly transformed into something hideous. The horned monster standing in front of her bore no resemblance to the handsome demon who once seduced her. Dark red skin stretched across muscle and bone, the ligaments and tendons visible. The creature’s eyes glowed yellow with black triangular slits.
Destiny’s terror intensified. She stumbled back, wanting to run. Knowing there was nowhere she could hide.
In the blink of an eye, Vetis shifted back to the angry seducer. Handsome once again, but trembling with rage. He turned away, drawing in a deep breath, then faced her once more. Had she only imagined the change in his appearance? She knew the mind could play tricks on the eye when someone was consumed with fear.
Destiny ran a weary hand across her forehead, eyes closed. She wasn’t sure what she saw. It happened too fast.
“Your lover is a nephilim. An immortal,” he repeated.
Her hand dropped to her side. What game did Vetis play? “Nephilim?” She didn’t know this word, but she did know Chance wasn’t an immortal. He couldn’t be. Wouldn’t she have sensed it? He was a cowboy, nothing more.
“I see he hasn’t mentioned any of this to you.” He smirked.
She studied Vetis. There was something in his expression that said he wasn’t lying. Ice crystals began to form inside her veins and around her heart.
Chance an immortal? Why didn’t he tell her? No, it couldn’t be true. They were lovers.
A niggle of doubt weaved its way through her. What did she really know about him? He wore a cowboy hat, so she assumed he was a cowboy.
What did he tell her about his life? Nothing whatsoever. He took her out, showed her a good time, but he wouldn’t be the first man to have done that while all the time he had a different agenda.
They did have a good time. The sex was fantastic, but spending time with Chance was more than that. They were comfortable with each other. He took her to the rodeo, bought her a hat. They laughed. He risked his life when he rode the bull.
Or had he? Immortals didn’t die.
Doubts flooded her. Did she only see what she wanted to see?
No, Vetis lied.
Destiny studied the demon. He was gloating. The sick feeling inside her grew. She knew without a doubt that what Vetis was about to tell her wouldn’t be good, but it would be the truth.
“Angels came down from heaven and mated with mortal women,” he explained as his eyes narrowed angrily. “See, and I bet you thought angels were pure and untarnished by the world,” he spat. “No, they laid with these women, then the women bore their unholy children—nephilim. The brats like to think they’re demigods.” His satanic laughter filled the room. “And now one has seduced you.”
“No.” She put up a hand as if she could stop the words he flung toward her.
“No?” His lips thinned. “You still want to believe the best about him, don’t you?”
“Chance didn’t lie.” She shook her head.
If she hoped for a sudden miracle, it didn’t come. No, Vetis still stood in front of her, waiting for her to stop denying what was right in front of her.
The words Chance had uttered that afternoon came back to haunt her. I’d rather take you to Heaven.
She stumbled away from Vetis, sitting on the sofa with a hard thud. No, the demon lied. Vetis had been lying to her from the start. Hadn’t he? Chance was all that was good in her world. He wouldn’t lie to her. Not when she loved him so much.
Her hands began to shake. She held them, forcing the trembling to stop. The sick feeling inside her grew stronger.
“He wants to convince you that you can be reborn again. That you could be perfect.” Vetis snorted. “As though that would ever happen!”
She dragged her gaze to his. “What?”
“You’re not paying attention!” He closed his eyes for a moment, took a deep breath as though he barely held his temper in check, then looked at her once again as he began to explain. “He’s going to tell you that he can give you another chance to relive your life by literally being born again.”
“To live again?”
“Exactly!” he said as if she finally got a very important question correct. “Of course, there’s no guarantee your life will be any different. Who’s to say it wouldn’t be exactly the same. Or worse.”
“No, it’s not true.” She shook her head.
“Isn’t it?”
She reached up, touching the necklace Chance had given her, but as her fingers ran over the angel wings, she quickly dropped the charm as if it had burned her.
An angel, of course.
He’d mentioned more than once how her life could be better. She thought she was seducing him, but he was the seducer. Again she let someone into her life, and that person lied to her.
“He was never planning to spend all of eternity with you.” Vetis delivered his last blow. “As soon as you’re reborn, the rules change for him. You can never be together. He’ll move on to the next pathetic person whom he believes needs saving while you’re left all alone once more to fend for yourself.”
The couch sank as Vetis sat next to her. He opened his arms. She hesitated before going into them, letting him wrap her in his warm embrace. At least with Vetis she knew where she stood. He’d told her from the beginning that he wanted her soul. Chance lied about everything.
“I thought he would return to Hell with me,” she whispered as the cold feeling moved over her.
“I know.”
A tear slipped from the corner of her eye and trailed down her cheek. “He was never planning to go with me.”
“No. Not even for a minute.”
She sniffed. She was so stupid. She fell in love with an angel. How ironic. Didn’t Chance know she belonged in Hell?
Chance. She sucked in a deep breath as reality set in comp
letely. It was over. There would be no living an eternity with him. That’s why he didn’t tell her that he loved her. He’d only wanted to steal her soul. He’d used her like all the others.
She buried her face against Vetis’s chest as pain ripped through her. She just wanted everything and everyone to go away.
“But you still have to meet your quota.” Vetis’s voice penetrated past the ache that buried itself deep inside her. “I won’t be able to stop the others if you don’t.” He lightly stroked his hand up and down her back.
She stiffened in his arms as his words sank into her brain. “What do you mean?”
“The tribunal.”
She closed her eyes tight as if she could will his words away. Everyone in Hell had heard of the tribunal. Demons who were almost as old as time. People said once you went before the council, you were already doomed. They always found the person guilty.
A shiver of dread swept over her. The rest was guessing on everyone’s part, but she had a feeling all the things she heard might be pretty close to the truth, which scared her even more.
When Vetis continued, Destiny knew she had to listen.
“You will go before the tribunal. There are six of us in all. I’ll be there, but I’m afraid they will join against me.”
“What will they do?”
He patted her back. “You still have time to get your quota. Think of it this way, you’ll be giving someone a chance at a brand new life where everything can be theirs. Dreams waiting to be fulfilled. Riches beyond their imagination. Who wouldn’t want to trade their soul for all that?”
Except she had yet to see any of what he’d offered her in exchange for her soul. No, Destiny couldn’t do it. She didn’t have enough time to convince someone to return to Hell with her.
“I can’t. I need a few more days. You could talk to them.”
He shook his head. “I’m sorry. Our laws have been in place for centuries. I couldn’t change them even for you, my love.”
“What will they do if I fail?” she asked as she straightened from his arms.
Pity showed in his eyes. “They will cast you into the fires of Hell. There you will burn for all eternity, never dying. You will be driven insane by the pain, but it will always be with you.”
Destiny sucked in a deep breath as she pushed out of his arms and jumped to her feet. She began to pace across the floor as images of constant pain filled her head. How would she be able to stand that kind of sustained torture? Fear trembled over her. She tamped down the hysteria building inside her. No, she wouldn’t let it happen.
She suddenly stopped, turning to him, raising her chin. “Help me. You can if you want. You have to help me.”
He opened his hands, palms up. “Why do you only call upon me when you’re desperate,” he shook his head, his eyes turning sad, “only to reject me when I’m no longer needed?”
He was right, and she felt his disappointment in her. She hurried over, knelt in front of him, and rested her head on his knees. “Forgive me,” she cried.
“Shh, hush, sweet child.” He patted her head. “How can I let them cast you into the fires when I love you so much?”
She raised her face, eyes swimming with tears. “You do?”
“I love all my children.”
“You’ll help me?”
“Just bring me LeAnn’s soul and all will be right.”
Chapter 21
Chance went inside the bar when he first arrived but didn’t spot Destiny. The man he met at the rodeo, Charles Dickens, was sitting at a table with an odd-looking woman near the stage. He overheard the woman grumbling about everything from how the place stank, with which Chance agreed, to predicting that the night was going to hell in a handbag quicker than a speeding train filled with ex-cons.
The old cowboy seemed likable when he’d met him at the rodeo, but Chance didn’t want to get into a conversation with him right then, and definitely not with the woman. He was more concerned about why Destiny wasn’t there yet.
Chance stepped back outside. The fresh air was a vast improvement. The bar smelled like old booze, stale cigarette smoke, and unwashed bodies. A dark, dreary olive green color paint had been slapped on the walls. Nothing about the place tempted him to sit and enjoy a beer.
No one waited outside. There were a few cars driving down the road, people getting off work. Chance glanced at his watch. It was still early.
Maybe she was just running late.
Chance pushed on the door and went back inside. He hoped there was another entrance that he might have missed. His eyes adjusted to the dim light. The choking fog of stale cigarette smoke hovered above the twenty or so patrons who had decided to come out. But Destiny wasn’t there.
A heavyset man lumbered up the three steps to a stage that wasn’t much bigger than the bathroom in the apartment where Destiny was staying. A fat cigar protruded from one side of his mouth, the end glowing red when he puffed. His shirt might have been white at one time, but now it was a grease-splotched beige color.
The man stopped in front of a microphone perched on a rusted metal stand and hitched up his pants. “I’m the manager of this bar, so make sure you drink up. Can’t stay in business if you don’t. Besides, it’s the cheapest booze in town.”
“’Cause you water it down,” someone yelled.
The handful of people laughed while the owner glared at them.
“You can leave if you don’t like it,” he growled and people quieted down. When no one stood up to leave, the owner plastered a smirk on his face. “That’s what I thought.”
The door to the bar opened. Chance looked hopeful, but a man walked in, looked around, then waved at a woman before he joined her.
“I even have someone to sing for you,” the owner told the small crowd. “This here’s—” His eyes narrowed when he looked toward a dark corner. “What’s your name, girlie?”
“LeAnn West,” came her whispered reply.
Where was Destiny?
“Welcome LeAnn onto the stage.” He laughed. “She’s real pretty, and cheap.” He guffawed at his joke. “Free, actually.”
As soon as the owner lumbered down the steps, LeAnn made her way to the stage. She had a guitar strap slung over her shoulder and was holding the instrument so tight that Chance thought it would crack any second.
Chance almost didn’t recognize the girl he’d met at the rodeo. She was dressed to the nines in a black outfit with sequined lapels. A pink heart-shaped necklace captured the light and cast a rainbow of color around her. He’d bet his wings, if he had any, that Destiny was behind getting the outfit.
Not that it helped. LeAnn chewed her bottom lip as she searched the crowd. He knew she hunted for Destiny.
Oh, please, dear God, help me. I’m scared shitless. No, no, I didn’t mean to say that. I meant to say I’m just really scared.
Her desperate prayer drifted to him. Chance knew he had to help her. He closed his eyes, wanting to give her the courage she prayed for, but he felt the invisible wall that rose in front of him.
His shoulders slumped as he opened his eyes and saw her fear again. Sometimes it was like that. There were some people they weren’t meant to help and nothing they did could change the outcome. Some things were meant to be. It didn’t mean he had to like it, though.
“I was expecting my friend.” Her laugh cracked. “Something must’ve happened.”
“You gonna sing or talk?” the manager yelled out.
Charles half stood as he turned in his seat. “You shut your trap or I’ll be doing it for you.”
The manager snapped his mouth shut and went back to wiping off the bar with a dirty rag. “It’s my bar,” he groused, but not loud enough Charles would’ve heard him.
LeAnn gripped the guitar even tighter, then defiantly raised her chin and drew in a deep breath, but as soon as she did her nose wrinkled in distaste. Chance had to give her credit for the quick recovery as she started to talk again.
“This is a song I w
rote for my brother.” She cleared her throat and began to strum the strings of the guitar.
Some of the people began to talk to each other. Laughter drifted from one of the tables. Chance wanted to yell at them to shut up, but he was afraid it would make LeAnn even more self-conscious.
“You were always the one I looked up to,” she sang.
Her voice was soft, barely heard above the patrons who were talking and laughing a little louder now.
“Walking side by side.”
Chance glared at the crowd as she continued to sing. They were rednecks who only cared if they had enough money to buy another beer.
A waitress waddled out with a longneck and slapped the bottle down on a scarred table. “Two-fifty.” She stuck a dirty fingernail between her two front teeth, brought out whatever had been left over from her last meal, and wiped it on her skirt.
“Two-fifty? Whatever happened to happy hour?”
“Do I look happy?” she sneered.
He thrust a five toward her. “I want all my change, too.”
“Cheap bastard,” she muttered as she left.
Charles started to stand again, but the woman with him patted his hand and pointed toward LeAnn. Smart woman. If Charles started a brawl, it would only make the night worse for LeAnn.
Chance turned his attention back to LeAnn who was looking less sure of herself, but she struggled onward.
“You were the one I admired.
With hero worship in my eyes.”
Someone dropped a quarter in the jukebox. Chance tensed as a record dropped into place. He couldn’t take his eyes off the needle as it made its way across to the turnstile, then dropped in place. His gaze jerked back to LeAnn as a fast beat country song began to play.
A woman jumped up from her chair and began to dance in front of the stage. “Sorry, darlin’, but this is real music! Yee-haw!”
The color drained from LeAnn’s face. Her gaze flitted around the room and her bottom lip trembled. She hugged her guitar close to her chest and fled the stage. Her thoughts hit him hard and fast.
“Not good enough! Stupid, stupid, stupid! You’ll never be anything, will never amount to anything!”