Hell's Gift (29 page)

“Whatever. You said you hear Fallis is manipulative? Where did you hear?”

“Abigail. She’s helping as much as she can when Lucifer isn’t around.”

I nodded to myself, a little envious that he was getting to talk to my wife, and glanced to my left where the female was.
“Just keep your ears open on how we might get out of here and I will try to keep us alive.”

There was the silence again on the other end of the brain wave-length. “
Malcolm!”

“Um…about staying alive; you might want to try extra hard to do that. Abigail said Lucifer sent Velan to kill you. He obviously failed and will pay dearly, I’m sure, but…”

“Just spit it out!”

“Isaiah said you will start over if you lose a life. You will start over in the Syde of Gluttony, and your memory will be erased from the time you landed naked in the middle of East Court.”

I stopped, unable to catch a steady breath. It couldn’t be true.
“Tell me you’re mistaken. I can’t go through all of that again and stay sane.”

“Then don’t die. Simple as that,”
Malcolm said, and I growled.

“Are you alright?”

“Tell her you’re fine and then start walking again. It’s too early for her to know about the other voice in your head.”

“It’s possible she would only think I’ve gone crazy. I’m beginning to think I have,”
I replied, but did as he suggested and continued walking through the hot sand.

There were two orange suns from what I could see, and the sky was pink tinted, whereas Earth’s sky had the vibrant blue. Other than that, and the two of us, there was nothing else to be seen for miles.

The female cleared her throat and I looked at her. She was no longer hiding behind the tousled brown locks of her hair. She’d lifted what hadn’t fallen out from her neck and had it piled atop her head in a sort of tangled, messy bun. Her coat had disappeared from her body, and with the extra bulk of the pack on her back I assumed it had found a new resting place within it. Her clothing was still extremely heavy for the environment we were in, but there was no right way for a man to tell a woman to take her clothes off without it sounding like he wanted sex. Or I couldn’t think of a way to do it, and sex with anyone except Abbi wasn’t going to happen.

She glanced at me, but made no move to cover the newly acquired scars on her face or turn away so I couldn’t see them.

I offered her the canteen, but she shook her head, refusing it. “I’m okay for now. Thanks.”

I nodded and then wrapped the bottle and my one match in the acid jacket and placed it on my shoulders like a rucksack. I wove the handle of the spear through the vine straps so it would stay in place and out of my way, but still be easily accessible if I needed it.

“Phoebe,” she said.

“Excuse me?”

“Phoebe…it’s my name.”

I smiled. “Glad you told me; ‘that girl’ didn’t fit you quite as well.”

She grinned at my joke, then wiped at her sweating brow and neck.

I looked away, totally at a loss for what I should say to her.

“Tell her to take them off.”

“I can’t just tell her to take her clothes off, Malcolm.”

“She’ll die of a heatstroke if you don’t. That material is not made for the desert. If she dies, she will return back to the Syde of Pride with no memory of you or that she repented. She will only have the ugly scars and no recollection of why she has them—”

“Alright, fine, just—shut up for a minute, will ya?”

I could hear him snickering in my head, but he did as I told him and kept quiet.

I huffed.

“Rhyan?”

“Um…are you comfortable? If you need to, uh—” I gestured to the wool she was wearing.

“Thanks.” She grabbed her backpack and dug around the contents until she retrieved a knife. The hilt looked to be carved from some type of large bone. “Didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable around a half naked woman that’s not your wife, but I have to get rid of some of this or I’m going to pass out. I guess you could say I’m a little hot natured after being in Arctic-like temperatures for a quarter of a century. I was just beginning to get used to it.”

I blinked a few times as she began shredding the material of the shirt with the blade. She cut out the underside from the armpit to the cuff, leaving the top of the sleeve to protect her pale skin from direct contact with the sun, then she cut vertical slits all the way around it to let in airflow. Next, she cut long slits in her baggy pants from mid-thigh to ankle.

I was impressed, but I guessed anyone who had spent twenty-five years in freezing temperatures, without shelter, knew a thing or two about surviving.
Maybe I could learn a few tricks from her along the way,
I thought as I crossed my arms across my chest and watched her work.

She tucked the legs of her pants into her boots and laced them tight.

“Why are you doing that?”

She finished tying the bootlace, then looked up at me with a smirk. “There are all kinds of critters in the desert. I can only imagine what lives in Hell’s desert. I don’t want anything crawling up the inside of my trousers.”

She glanced down at my bare legs and so did I. When I looked back at her she had her brow raised, then hid her smile by throwing her pack on her back and setting off in the direction we had originally headed in.

Chapter 37

Malcolm

Malcolm walked slowly around the large cage made up of silver bars. The LOD’d had to reinforce it with more silver because the demon trapped within happened to be small enough to squeeze its body through the narrow gaps.

Just to have touched the bars would’ve caused the thing extreme pain, but taking chances it wouldn’t risk scorched flesh to get out wasn’t an option any of them were willing to take.

Its low, screechy voice startled Malcolm and he stopped, but was careful not to look the thing in the eye. They didn’t need a recurrence of the possession to take place.

“He’s coming soon,” it said, and snickered.

“Who’s coming?” Malcolm asked.

Clicking noises came from the creature and Malcolm fought the urge to look directly at it. “My master is coming.”

Malcolm chuckled, but there was a hint of nervousness he couldn’t hide. “Lucifer is coming to Heaven?”

“Yessss,” it hissed.

Malcolm ran to the bars and stared down at the deformity in disgust. “Lucifer is trapped in Hell. He can’t even get to Earth, much less find his way back to Heaven. He was banished to the pits of Hell. It’s impossible for him to get out. How do you suppose he will gain access?”

The creature stood to its full height of about three feet tall and walked to the bars. Malcolm wanted to look away, but couldn’t risk missing anything. The twitch of an eye or mouth could distinguish a lie from the truth. Malcolm was an expert at reading features; even ugly ones like the demon had been blessed with.

Malcolm watched as the disfigured hand rose up. The mutant pointed a long, skinny finger at Malcolm’s chest and then smiled a mouthful of razor sharp teeth. “He will gain access into Heaven through you, angel.”

Malcolm stumbled back. He’d been watching for any signs of lying. There had been none, but that didn’t mean the demon was telling the entire truth, Malcolm thought. He couldn’t believe he would be the one to give the fallen angel access back into the Heavenly Realm. It wasn’t possible. The demon had to be lying. God would damn him for letting such a thing happen.

Malcolm looked back at his enemy in cold fear. “You lie,” he accused, but the demon only shook its head. Malcolm placed his palm over the hard pounding of his chest. “You are the reason I am this way.” He said it as a statement, because he already knew the answer that was nearly impossible to accept. “Who are you?” he demanded.

“I am Miles. I met up with your friend shortly after his arrival in Princess Abigail’s syde. I know everything you are doing to help the angel defeat my master, and so does he. I’ve read your mind…and your heart,” he said with a sly smile. “She doesn’t love you, you know?”

Losing his cool with the demon would’ve only made things worse for everyone, Malcolm thought, so he chose to ignore anything the creature said about Josselyn. He had to be trying to distract him from what was most important: Lucifer getting into Heaven, and him being the key of his entry. That was definitely more important than getting another kiss from Josselyn. The puttering of his heart and the tightness in his chest at the mention of her name would just have to be looked into later, well after they were positive Heaven was safe and secure.

“Why is my heart beating again? Am I alive? Human again?”

The demon laughed creepily, but didn’t seem surprised by Malcolm’s question. He shook his head. “You are not human—”

“What is it, then?”

The laughing abruptly stopped and he glowered at Malcolm. “You are tainted,” he said, the last word ending with a raise of his bushy eyebrows. “Lucifer can’t punish the princess or the angel because he forgot to put in the contract that help isn’t to be given to them by anyone. But anyone who thinks they can make a one-way portal into Hell and it go unnoticed, well, they are only begging for my master to take their soul, now, aren’t they?”

“My soul…” Malcolm tried to swallow, but felt as though the walls of his esophagus were constricting, and preventing him from even drawing a complete breath. “I have my soul,” he muttered, barely audible.

“You sure about that?”

“I still have my soul!” Malcolm shouted.

“Unless you have two, you’re wrong. I delivered your soul to Lucifer myself. I did possess you, remember? You belong to him now. He can find you anywhere you go…even here, in Heaven. You are a demon.”

“No!” Malcolm screamed hysterically. “I don’t believe it. You are lying!” he spat.

Miles took a moment to observe the silver cage that had him contained. “Touch the silver bars if you are so sure you’re still an angel and have possession of your soul. I bet you a shiny nickel they knock you on your ass.”

“Can’t be…It can’t be true,”
Malcolm thought, and didn’t realize he was loudly broadcasting to Rhyan.

“What can’t be true, Malcolm?”
Rhyan asked.
“Talk to me. What has happened?”

Through tear-filled eyes, he looked at the bars and lifted his hand. Miles nodded excitedly, encouraging him to grab hold of the silver and accept his fate.

Curling his fingers into a fist, he forced his arm back down to his side. “I have to get out of here,” he muttered.

“Get out of where? Heaven? Why? Talk to me, damn you!”

“I’m sorry, Rhyan. I messed up. I hope you make it out of there, brother.”

Malcolm turned from a grinning Miles, and then ran from the room in search of Isaiah.

Rhyan

“What? Malcolm, what happened? What did you mess up?”

There was no answer.

I couldn’t even begin to think what had gone wrong or why I’d lost contact with my guardian angel. I wanted to throw something, but if I’d thrown anything on my person, I would’ve had to go and retrieve it, so I settled for bending at the waist, clutching my knees in my hands and growling out my frustration through clenched teeth.

“Is something wrong?” Phoebe asked, then stopped and walked back to me.

I shook my head and called out for Malcolm again. Nothing.

I shrugged her hand from my arm as I rose back in an upright position, letting my hands rest casually on my hips and avoiding her concerned stare. “Yeah, something is wrong, but I don’t know what it is.”

“Well, tell me what you think it is. Maybe I can help—”

“You can’t help,” I shouted at her.

“Why the hell not?” she snapped back.

I just looked at her for a moment. We were both hot and cranky, and it was obvious the effects of the syde were beginning to wear on us. Arguing with each other would only make matters worse. We needed to work together. We had to trust each other or neither of us would make it out alive.

I glanced up at the two suns and huffed in uncomfortable irritation. I had no idea how to tell her about Malcolm without being overheard by someone I didn’t want knowing about the help I was receiving. I had no idea who was listening in or how good their hearing was. I decided to risk it.

“Uh…my guardian angel has been helping me the whole time I’ve been here, but something has happened and I can’t hear him anymore. He just apologized to me for messing something up and said he hoped I got out of here. That’s all. He won’t answer me anymore.”

Phoebe sighed. “Well, there isn’t much we can do about it from here, so we just need to try to get out as quickly as possible without dying, right? Then,” she shrugged, “we’ll figure out what happened to the angel. I’m sure that if something is seriously wrong, there is a shit-load of pissed off angels handling it right now. Don’t cha think?”

I chuckled as I nodded in agreement. “I guess you’re right. I mean, how bad can it be anyway? Malcolm’s a freaking saint.”

Josselyn

She’d been pacing in front of the den window from the inside of the Chamberlain home when she heard the familiar pop. She smiled, thinking Malcolm had returned to check on her welfare again since he had no access to Heaven’s main speculum anymore, but when she turned and saw Troy in the doorway, face void of any expression, panic consumed her.

Rhyan,
she thought.

“Troy, what is it? Is Rhyan okay? He didn’t lose a life—”

The shaking of his head cut her thought short. Her eyes narrowed, trying to read his body language, but Troy had always been good at hiding his emotions. Nevertheless, she knew something was wrong; he wasn’t talking.

“What is it, Troy?” she asked cautiously.

He cleared his throat as his brow furrowed. “Isaiah is requesting a meeting wi’ ye. I am tae escort ye directly tae Council. I brocht twa mere members of the LOD tae bide here in yer absence.”