Grave Decisions (Hellgate Guardians Book 3)

by Ivy Asher

  “This the supply closet?” I turn to ask, only to find Alder and Flint right behind me, barely a hair’s breadth away.

  “That leads to the cellar where we keep our liquor,” Alder explains.

  “Alright,” I say, headin’ for the fourth door. “How ’bout this one?”

  He nods slowly, and I can’t tell what he’s thinkin’, but the scrutiny they’re both lookin’ at me with is a little unnervin’. “Yes, that’s where we keep the supplies.”

  “Great,” I say, jigglin’ the knob. “Care to unlock it for me?”

  “You don’t need to worry about cleaning up this mess. The imps can do it,” Flint says, and even though I still have no idea what a damn imp is, I make a sour face.

  “No, I did this and I’ll clean it up, thank you very much,” I tell them both primly. “My daddy always taught me to fix my messes, so that’s what I’m aimin’ to do.”

  The two of them share a look, like they’re silently arguin’ over who’s gonna talk me out of this, so I figure I’ll save them the trouble.

  “Look,” I say, cuttin’ off their silent conversation. “My mama will tell you that I’m as stubborn as a mule when I want to be. I’ve dug my heels in. There’s nothin’ for it. Now, you either open this door for me so I can get proper supplies, or I will tromp my ass right back up to your house and use your damn bedsheets to mop the floor in here. What’s it gonna be?”

  Alder grimaces, like the very idea of his sheets bein’ used to slop up the spilt liquor in this place disgusts him. “Fine,” he says, relentin’ on a sigh.

  He moves forward, a hand comin’ down to my waist to move me away so he can get to the lock. I’m not expectin’ the sudden touch, and I freeze, my eyes shootin’ up to his face. There’s a moment where we just look at one another, and I swear, the heat of his palm soaks through my shirt, the barest sliver of skin exposed so that the pad of his finger is makin’ direct contact with me. Just that—just that measly, minuscule skin-to-skin contact has me burnin’ with an attraction that sends me swayin’ toward him.

  “Excuse me,” he murmurs quietly, and I blink past the haze of intense want as he gently nudges me aside. Oh, right. I was in his way.

  Clearin’ my throat, I back up, kickin’ myself at my over-the-top reaction.

  What in the name of wet panties was that, Medley?

  I mean, I’ve been touched by guys before, and certainly more intimately than a hand on my waist, but I’ve never reacted the way I do with these two. Was it a demon thing? I’m dyin’ to ask, but embarrassment stops me. What if he’s not affected like I am? Or what if he is? I still wouldn’t know what to do with that.

  If somehow we are all stuck with each other forever because I’m meant to be a Guardian, gettin’ all twitterpated probably ain’t wise. I’m not usually one to fawn all over someone or girl crush to the extreme, but this whole demon thing is uncharted waters, and I’m not sure what to expect.

  Alder does his demon voodoo magic to unlock the door, and my eyes lift up to steal a peek at Flint, but he’s already starin’ right at me with a grin. “You alright over there, Peaches?”

  “Yes,” I answer quickly. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

  He shrugs. “You looked a little...flustered.”

  If he was next to me, I’d stomp on his toes again just for makin’ me blush. “I’m fine,” I tell him with a scowl. He winks, which just adds to the tumultuous attraction that I’m already battlin’.

  Fortunately, I’m saved from any more of Flint’s teasin’, because Alder swings the door open for me and flips on the light. I walk inside, spottin’ a tidy walk-in closet filled with cleanin’ supplies. “This will do just fine,” I say with a satisfactory nod as I appraise the space, doin’ a mental inventory of everythin’ here.

  “Right,” I say, lookin’ down at my skanky skirt and bustier that nearly has my girls spillin’ out over the top. I’m not dressed for this, but it’ll have to do. This place needs a good rub down from top to bottom and every space in between.

  I walk forward and grab the broom and dustpan first before tossin’ a couple of rags at the guys. “Don’t just stand there and look pretty. I may have had a tribulation and gone a bit destructive in your bar, but Alder is right, you helped me get there,” I tell them. “So get to it. There’s plenty of work to do before mornin’.”

  Flint chokes on a laugh. “Yes, ma’am.”

  I nod and start to walk out of the closet, only to stumble to a stop as Alder starts to roll up the sleeves of his long white button-up. Why he’s wearin’ a long button up in the heat of Georgia in the first place, I don’t know, but damn, when he rolls those sleeves up, showin’ off more of his watercolor tattoos over toned, strong forearms, my mouth waters. Honest to God, it does.

  Flint catches me droolin’ and rolls his eyes. “I can do better than that, Peaches,” he flirts. Then the boy just up and whips his shirt clean off, and I gape at the sight before me.

  Like a moth to a flame, I find myself walkin’ toward him before I even know what I’m doin’. Every thought in my head just flutters away, and I’m guided by a need to trace my finger along the stone-like markings of his chest. Gray veins of marble over white skin, with a toned stomach and defined chest. The demon is even more gorgeous without a shirt.

  “Why do you look like a Joanna Gaines kitchen fantasy come to life?” I ask as my finger slowly moves over him, the skin jumpin’ beneath my touch.

  He chuckles. “You mean why do I look like my skin’s made of marble?”

  “Yeah.”

  He lifts a shoulder in a half shrug. “Just part of my demonic heritage. I can go indestructible when the need arises.”

  My eyes flick up to his for a second. “You mean like The Thing from Fantastic Four?”

  Flint cocks a dark brow. “Am I supposed to know what that is?”

  “Never mind,” I say. That rock monster has got nothin’ on Flint anyway.

  My finger slips down the crevice of his abdominal muscles as I follow the speckled gray river, only for Flint’s hand to suddenly come down, grabbin’ hold of my finger by pinchin’ it between two of his. I look up, startled out of my reverie, and see his amused face. “You go any lower, and you’re gonna make something else rise a lot higher,” he jokes.

  Immediately, I realize with more than a little mortification that I’ve been intimately strokin’ this demon without even thinkin’ twice about how he’d feel about it, or what I’m even doin’ in the first place.

  I snatch my hand back like it just caught fire, even though I’ve been holdin’ it in temptation’s flames for longer than I want to think about. “I’m sorry,” I tell him, lookin’ anywhere but at his face because I already know that I’m gonna find a teasin’ grin there, and I’m embarrassed and confused enough by my own actions already.

  I quickly slip past him to get out of this tiny closet with those two hot as sin demons whom I clearly can’t be trusted to be around.

  “Come back, Peaches!” Flint chuckles at my back. “Things were just getting interesting.”

  Well, I suppose that answers my interest question, at least for Flint anyway. That demon is gonna be trouble for me. Trouble with a capital T, and probably a capital O too, if you catch my meanin’.

  “Get your butts out here. This bar ain’t gonna clean itself!” I shout over my shoulder as I strut my way across the room. Keep busy. That’s what I gotta do. Maybe I can scrub the unwelcome lust right out of my body while I’m scrubbin’ these floors.

  Somehow though, I sincerely doubt it.

  14

  It’s just after six a.m., and damn if four hours didn’t make a huge difference to the place. I did good.

  Sure, I had the help of two strong, strappin’ demons, but to be honest, I had to light a fire under their firm asses more than once, and I’m confident that this place wouldn’t be lookin’ so good if it weren’t for me.

  The bar looks spotless. Well, as spotless as an old, dingy, and roughed-up d
emon bar can look. There’s still some stains that we couldn’t scrub out of the floor, I have nothin’ to do with the gator teeth hangin’ from the ceilin’, and don’t even get me started on the damn bonfire they apparently burn in the middle of the room sometimes, because no amount of Mr. Clean is gonna get those scorch marks out. But other than that, this place is spic and span, and the evidence of my violent tribulation is gone.

  Alder passes me a bottled water. It’s not the drink I was hopin’ for when this spring cleanin’ started, but I chug it down while the other two do the same. We all lean against the newly cleaned bar and survey the results of our elbow grease. I am bone-tired and weary, but I feel good with the job well done. Honestly, workin’ in companionable silence was good for my mental state. I was able to work through a few things, goin’ over the events for the past forty-eight hours and comin’ to terms with it all.

  “Thank you for doing this,” Alder tells me after he downs his entire water bottle, his throat bobbin’ up and down in that very masculine way that always makes me watch with fascination.

  “It was the least I could do,” I say, draggin’ my stare up from his throat to his eyes. “Besides, I enjoy a good scrubbin’ when I’m stressed. Mama always sent me to the bathroom with a sponge and a bucket when I was PMSin’. It helped focus the rage,” I say with a wink. He looks unsure about whether or not I’m teasin’. I’m not.

  “Personally, I just enjoyed your outfit of choice for this particular task,” Flint cuts in, still shirtless. His dark gray eyes trail over me. “Every time you bent over to clean, I didn’t know quite where to look first.”

  I roll my eyes at his outright flirtin’, but I’d be lyin’ if I said I wasn’t flattered. To know that I catch his eye does wonders for my self-esteem.

  Still, my ego might be boosted, but I know that I can’t look very good anymore. My club makeup has probably melted right off my face, I ditched my boots as soon as all the glass was gone, and even though I’m still wearin’ my skirt and tight top, my hair is a mess and I’m sweatin’ like a pig. It ain’t pretty.

  “So, what’s a couple of Hellgate Guardians doin’ runnin’ a bar, anyway?” I ask, takin’ another drink of water.

  “That’s all him,” Flint says, tiltin’ his head in Alder’s direction.

  “Hmm, I didn’t peg you for the type,” I say honestly.

  I get more of a Fortune 500 CEO vibe or the head of a serious criminal enterprise—although there might not be much of a difference between the two. Alder definitely has that head honcho decision-maker aura, though. Not so much the blood, sweat, and tears mixed with the elbow grease I would think that owning a bar would require.

  Alder lifts one shoulder in a shrug, not fussed in the least by my statement. “My family has been guarding the Hellgate for centuries, but it’s in our nature to be opportunists. So, while many demons would hate being tied down to a Hellgate, my family used it to handle other business ventures.”

  “Like this bar,” I say.

  “Like this bar,” he agrees. “Although, I admit that you’re right about my aspirations to being a bar owner,” he admits. “But it serves other purposes for me, aside from demons spending good money to drink and me using that good money to line my pockets,” he says with utmost honesty. “I collect information and trade it, and use my abilities as a Farina demon to assist those who need it in this realm.”

  “So you sell your Farina plant potions and trade in secrets.”

  Alder runs a thumb over his pillowy bottom lip in thought. “More or less.”

  “You own the bar, but Flint draws from the coffers too?” I ask, my eyes bouncin’ from one to the other as I try to figure out how this all works between them.

  “I can tell you’re a curious kitten, so I’ll answer that unspoken question you’ve been rolling around in that pretty head of yours,” Flint says, leanin’ in toward me. “No, Alder and I are not together like that. The only partnership we have is us being Guardians. And hell yeah, he pays me. But that’s because I draw in the crowd by playing music.”

  My brows jump up nearly to my hairline. “You’re a musician?” Be still my lusty heart. What girl can resist a musician? None. That’s God’s honest truth.

  “Banjo,” he tells me proudly, and I can’t help but snort. Maybe I spoke too soon.

  “Of course you play banjo.”

  “You got something against the banjo?”

  I let out a laugh. “It’s cute. Between that and the accent you try to slip on, you’re really tryin’ to embrace the South.”

  “Damn straight. The ladies love it,” he says with a playful wag of his brows.

  “He’s good at playing,” Alder says. “He learned quickly, and it came natural to him. For all his bluster when he first got the Guardian job, Flint’s embraced all things Southern. But he’s a surly asshole when he plays. Believe it or not, he usually doesn’t like much attention.”

  “What? Flint?” I ask, surprised. That doesn’t seem to fit with the flirtatious demon that I’ve dealt with.

  “It’s true. You seem to bring out another side to him,” Alder says. “An obnoxious, cringe-worthy side, but another side all the same.”

  A laugh escapes me as Flint reaches over and tries to swat at Alder, but the lavender-skinned demon manages to dodge the hit with a laugh.

  “Don’t go telling all our secrets to the lady while we’re wooing her,” Flint reprimands his friend.

  “Wooin’ me?” I say, though it comes out more like a squeak. I look between the two of them, shocked at his admission. “You shouldn’t try to woo me.” But damn, I want them to.

  Flint cocks his head. “What’s wrong? Scared it’s already working?” he asks with an arrogant gleam.

  “No,” I lie.

  I shouldn’t be tempted, flattered, or excited by these two. I shouldn’t, and yet, I am. The moment I parked my work truck here, my whole life changed on a dime. My mind is still tryin’ to catch up. But my damn libido? It’s full-steam ahead. And my emotions just keep volleyin’ all over the damn place.

  Flint grins like he doesn’t believe me, and he shouldn’t, seein’ as how I’m full of it, but it still leaves me uneasy that these two seem to be able to read me so easily.

  “Tell me more about this Delta,” I blurt. As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I wanna slap my forehead. Could I make my jealousy any more obvious?

  “Why? We ain’t wooing Delta,” Flint replies.

  I don’t know, you talked about wooin’ me, and I panicked!

  “You said she’s like me,” I say, tryin’ to steer this conversation somewhere away from the did you try to woo her too thought process. “I had some demon try to take me last night before those angels and you two showed up. Did stuff like that happen to her?”

  “Yeah, she was attacked after she found out about demons and what she really was. She tried to avoid the Hellgate at first.”

  Damn. There goes that strategy.

  “So, this...is inevitable?” I ask, weariness from the night and everythin’ I’ve learned settlin’ in my spine.

  Surprisingly, I don’t feel as overwhelmed as I probably should. Instead, I feel like I was waitin’ for this all along. There’s always been some oddity or sense of not-normal surroundin’ who I was, whether it was my parents insistin’ I was dropped off by an angel, or the blackouts. This new reality fits in a way I can’t really explain, and for some damn reason, it doesn’t feel foreign or scary to me.

  The real issue is, how long will it take before I learn what I need to know about what I am? Could I have other abilities, or are my tribulations it? Why was I dropped off to be raised like a human in the first place?

  I’ve only ever questioned that a couple of times in my life. Why would I need to when I have such incredible parents? But now that thought seems to want to sit at the forefront of my mind. I want to learn the why behind all of this—behind my existence.

  I watch Alder and Flint as they continue to struggle to answer my
question. They don’t really seem to know what to say, because they share a look, and that makes my stomach drop right down to my bare feet.

  I let out a long breath. “Damn. I thought… I don’t know what I thought. That somehow I would go on livin’ my life, only I’d have to put demon under my new status.” I laugh humorlessly to myself and set the water down behind me. “I guess I just kinda figured that knowin’ this truth filled in some blanks, but that it wouldn’t really rock my world as I know it. I’ve always been off, you know?” I stop to process that for a second. “Now I have a name for why, and I naively pretended last night that was that. But that’s not how this is gonna work, is it?”

  “No, it isn’t,” Alder answers simply, his butterscotch gaze warm and his tone matter-of-fact.

  I close my eyes for a second, and they burn from both stress and lack of sleep. “I don’t have any clue about what this all means for me,” I admit, openin’ my eyes to look at them. “I should probably be scared, but I don’t really know what to feel if I’m bein’ honest.”

  “It’s a lot to process. You’re doing better than I did, I’ll tell you that much,” Flint declares, and the admission gives me pause.

  “You didn’t know you were a demon either?” I ask with confusion.

  “No, I always knew that. I didn’t know I’d be selected as the next Guardian, though. It took me by surprise, to say the least,” he tells me.

  I nod in understandin’. I can tell there’s more to that story, but I don’t want to pry.

  “Just remember that we’re here to help you,” Flint says, reachin’ down to squeeze my hand. “We’ll be here every step of the way.”

  A declaration that big, that personal, instantly makes me feel better. “Thank you,” I tell him, hoppin’ down off the barstool and releasin’ a deep breath. Things are gettin’ heavy, and I’m entirely too tired to be rational about anythin’ else that might get dropped in my lap.