Beneath (Heven and Hell #3.5) (7 page)

I turned, yanking the sheet down to reveal a man with dark hair and brown eyes. He had cruelty written on his features.

“No. But I sure as hell will.” Callum snarled.

Who was this man? Callum seemed to know him, but it didn’t seem to be a pleasant acquaintance. I watched his body shake and quiver just like it always did before he shifted, but instead of shedding his skin and sprouting fur, he fell to his knees and let out a cry.

“I prefer you in your human form,” the man said, holding up some kind of amulet.

“What is that?” I asked.

“Get in the house, Gemma,” Callum ordered again, but his voice was strained and weak.

From out of the trees three others materialized. They weren’t human. From the grossly formed faces, disfigured bodies, and empty eyes, I knew these were the demons I’d heard Sinead mention a few times before. I looked back at the man holding the amulet. He smiled and my skin crawled.

I ran toward the house, but I felt the pull of invisible ropes as they wrapped themselves around me, tugged, and then suspended me just above the ground.

“She isn’t part of this,” Callum said as he struggled to his feet.

“Perhaps not, but this way she can see what happens when you fail to fulfill a deal that is signed in blood.”

“What is he talking about, Callum?” I asked.

He looked at me, guilt marring his features. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” I asked, fear beginning to claw at the back of my throat.

“For everything,” he said as sweat dripped down his face. His skin was pale and he swayed on his feet. That amulet had to be the cause of his weakened state.

“Allow me to explain,” said the man with the dark hair. “This man here made a deal. In exchange for his hellhound status, he would indebt himself and future hounds in his lineage to me. He would be there when I called.”

I glanced at Callum, trying to catch his eye, but he wouldn’t look at me.

“But I have called twice now. And twice he has refused me.”

“That wasn’t a deal,” Callum spat. “It was a curse!”

“We can work this—” I began, but he held up his hand to say, “No. There is no working anything out. That wasn’t the deal.”

I began to struggle against the invisible binds that held me. To try and break free. To be a participant instead of a victim.

There was no escape.

“Run, Callum. Run,” I told him, pleading with him to go.

He shook his head. “I’m not leaving you here.”

I didn’t have time to argue because the demons pounced. They jumped him from all sides. He did his best to fight them off, but there were three of them and only one of him—and he wasn’t able to shift, the one thing that would save his life.

I had to watch, in horror, as he was overcome by the demons, pushed to the ground, and I could see nothing but a pile of bodies and hear the sickening thud of flesh.

After a few moments a scarlet trail of blood began to run. It slid from beneath the pile of bodies and crept toward me, telling me everything I needed to know.

The demons stood, looking satisfied and vile. The man stuffed the amulet in his pocket and turned to walk away, calling after the creatures who did his dirty work. When they were almost out of sight, the binds that held me released and I was dropped onto the ground like a sack of flour. I scrambled on all fours toward Callum, who lay in the grass unmoving and bent at odd angles.

“Callum!” I cried, reaching him, grabbing his face and turning his head in my direction. He was covered in blood and it was impossible to tell what injuries were the worst. I didn’t bother to try to decide.

Instead, I raised my hands above his body, palms down, and reached inside me, calling on one of the powers that hadn’t been stripped away. I healed him for hours, stopping only when I collapsed. I poured out every last shred of effort I had, letting it flow over and around him.

I woke in the dark, lying across his chest, sticky with his blood. “Callum?” I said softly, leaning over him, waiting to see the fluttering of his eyes.

His eyes didn’t move. His skin was cold and his lips were blue.

I learned another hard lesson that night in the woods.

You cannot heal those who are already dead.

And so I buried him. It took me a full day to dig a hole big enough to fit him. I positioned it near the stream, but beneath the trees. I planted some wildflowers over the freshly turned earth and I mourned. I grieved so long that I began to use that grief to build a wall around myself so I would never know pain like this again.

I had lost everything.

The only thing I had left was my never-fading love for God (yes, even now) and my existence.

I understood the feeling of weakness that had driven Callum to make the deal in order to save me because I now felt it too. I’d been too weak to save him. I had to stand by and watch as someone stole his life.

And like Callum, I wanted to find the strength to save him. But it was too late. But those who took away his life still roamed this world. There was, no doubt, evil lurking in the shadows right this very minute, waiting to pounce on some innocent somewhere.

Yes, I wanted strength. But unlike Callum, I wasn’t going to bargain for it. I was going to
earn
it. I was going to train, I was going to learn, and I was going to hunt down Sinead and force him to teach me the Guardian ways.

I might be forced to walk this earth alone forever, but I was damn sure gonna kick some ass in the meantime.

Present Day

I didn’t like when the season’s changed. I used to. Years ago when I first fell, the rotating weather was exciting. Each time Mother Nature gave birth to a new season, it brought with it something beautiful, from joyful flowers pushing through the earth to trees becoming a kaleidoscope of colors or snow blanketing the world in white. I still thought the changing seasons were beautiful, but they were also inconvenient. Like right now.

I was sitting on the roof’s ledge, ignoring the way the chill in the wind made my muscles tense and my fingertips sting. Never before had I stayed this long in one place. The longest I ever remained anywhere was ten days, and it had been warm there. Usually, at the first sign of cold weather, I would leave, simply go where the air was warm and the sky stayed blue. It certainly made sleeping outside much more comfortable. But here I was, sitting on this rooftop, looking out over trees that would soon be bare and likely covered with snow. Sleeping in a tree without the concealment and protection of the leaves wasn’t ideal, but it also wasn’t impossible. I’d done it before. But, sleeping in a bare tree that was also covered in snow? Not going to happen. I shivered just thinking about it.

For a moment I let myself think about heaven and how warm it always was. There was never a time when you didn’t feel wrapped in comfort and warmth. After all these years, I still remembered the way it felt to be there. I didn’t think I would ever forget. Heaven was a place that was sacred. I’d been created there. It was part of me—a part I liked to keep buried deep within me. It wasn’t because I was ashamed. Ashamed that I fell, that I betrayed who I was supposed to be. No, it was because it was private. Heaven was a place that only those who lived there could understand just how wholly wonderful it really was. It was a reward, a reward for a life well lived, for those who truly believed in its existence.

I missed it there.

It was a thought I very seldom allowed myself. But I guess sitting here in the dark with the air nipping at my cheeks, I was having a moment of weakness. Yes, definitely that, because I also shouldn’t be here at all. I should be out looking for someone to help, for some good that needed done.

I certainly shouldn’t be sitting on the roof that belonged to the man I was supposed to be letting go.

I stood, rubbing my hands together, and peered down into the yard below, ready to jump. But the sound of a window opening to my right stopped me. I glanced over and something in my chest squeezed when Cole stuck his head out of the dark space.

“Gemma? What are you doing out there?”

I didn’t say anything. I was afraid to. I was afraid if I opened my mouth, then all the feelings that were swimming around inside me would escape and once the truth was out, it would change everything.

“Come in here,” he said, ignoring my silence and pushing the window up a little wider, stepping back to make room for me.

I glanced back down into the yard. I should go. I was just going to. Before I saw him.

I looked back at the window, where I could make out his waiting shape in the shadows. I don’t know why he was standing in the dark, and I didn’t bother to ask him. Instead, I made my way along the roof line, until his window was directly below me. It wasn’t hard to hang from the roof’s edge by my hands and swing myself inside. I’d done it more times than I probably should have.

I landed softly, with a barely noticeable thump, just inside the room, with my back to him and his window. I didn’t turn around right away. Instead, I stood there listening to the sound of him sliding the window closed, trying to come up with a reason I’d been sitting on his rooftop in the first place.

“It’s not summer anymore,” he said quietly. “Are you cold?”

I glanced at his bed. Memories of the night he pulled me into it with him speared through my brain. The way his hands had felt on me was practically sinful, and God help me, I loved every single second of it. I loved it so much it scared me. Cole was off-limits. Why couldn’t I seem to remember that?

“Hey,” he said from right next to me. I felt his fingers wrap around my elbow and my eyes closed. “Is everything okay? My sister…”

I turned to face him, my movement breaking the hold he had on my arm. “Heven is fine. As far as I know, everything’s fine.”

He nodded. Then I saw the white of his teeth against the dark. “So you’re here because you missed me?”

Yes. More than anything.
“What are you doing sitting around in the dark?”

“Did you think I wasn’t home?” He grinned again.

Actually, that’s exactly what I thought. “I think it’s creepy that you sit around in the dark.”

 He laughed. “I wasn’t sitting around in the dark. I was downstairs, and I just walked in here when I saw some movement out the window.” He moved away toward the table by the bed and switched on a lamp, flooding the room with light. I blinked against the brightness as he walked toward his dresser that was sitting against the far wall and picked up a navy blue mug and brought it over, holding it out.

“What’s this?” I asked, the scent of chocolate already wafting toward me.