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Authors: Stephanie Chong

BOOK: Where Demons Fear to Tread
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Chapter Seventeen

S
erena wandered in a haze among the red mists of hell, through a labyrinth of rooms. At each turn, she saw clusters of demons torturing the damned, gnawing at the entrails of mutilated human bodies, digging out their eyeballs with great, curving claws that trailed strands of bloody nerves. In her dream, the demons hissed, pale green snake eyes glowing.

She ran, twisting and turning through the snaking corridors, until she came to the center of the maze, where she found Julian, tied to a rotting wooden bed frame. He turned his head, imploring her with blue-green eyes bright with fever. Beneath her, her feet were rooted, unable to move. From behind, a demon caught her, claws slicing into her shoulder, and…

She awoke in her own bed at home, surrounded by the familiar froth of her white duvet. Her head ached like she’d been hit with a two-by-four. But she was still alive. Her wounds would heal. At least on the outside. Bile surged in her stomach and threatened to rise up her throat. She swallowed hard and willed it down.

Arielle perched on the edge of her bed, leaning over her with concern. Serena croaked, “What happened? How long was I out?”

She remembered Corbin and Julian dematerializing from the floor of the empty nightclub. The imprint of their struggle lingering in the empty air they had just vacated. Then, like a ripple in a pond, all trace of them had vanished and the space had gone still again.

“A few hours. Things went a little differently from how we had planned,” Arielle said. “None of us anticipated that Nick would disappear, but he did and he’s lost to us at the present time. Perhaps at some point in the future we’ll be in a position to reach him. But more importantly, we achieved our primary goal. Julian is no longer a demon. He no longer has the power to corrupt humans. Your work is done.”

Nick is lost to us.
That was Arielle’s way of saying that Nick was in hell. As for Julian…Serena knew where he had gone, too. Her dream had not been a dream. Corbin had taken Julian to the underworld.

Arielle confirmed it, but then added, “It’s not your responsibility to save him. Julian believes he needs to be punished. And as long as he believes that, no one can save him.”

There was silence between them as Serena’s mind flipped back to the nightmare images that had ripped through her sleep.
The damned, tormented by demons. Julian, chained to a bed.

She flipped back the covers. Her whole body ached; her injuries were still not fully healed, but she would not let that stop her. She would not sit in bed while Julian burned in the underworld. There was no time to waste. “Then I’m not finished. We need to get Julian out of there,” she announced. “I’m going to hell.”

“You’re willing to take the chance that you may end up sacrificing yourself for all eternity?” Arielle asked. “Think about what that means, Serena. The rest of your existence in hell. Your mission is not to sacrifice yourself. Remember, you’ve already done that once before. The risk is far too great. It’s time to let Julian go.”

“I love him. I have to try,” Serena said, regretting that her actions had impacted her supervisor in ways that Serena herself had never considered. Still, she could not give up on Julian. “I don’t believe that God would allow me to get stuck in hell. I’m not afraid. Besides, Julian risked himself for me.”

Arielle pursed her lips, silent as Serena rooted in her dresser for a pair of jeans and a simple blouse. Finally, the older angel said, “I wish I could go with you, but I can’t. Corbin specializes in taking people into their own personal version of hell, modeled on their darkest fears and traumas. Only someone Julian trusts enough to let into his subconscious will be allowed to enter his version of hell.”

Serena turned to face her, clothes in hand. “How do I know he’ll let me in?”

“You don’t. Not until you get there. But you won’t go alone. The Archangels have the power to enter any part of hell. You’ll have to ask Gabriel if he will guide you.”

“How do I do that?”

“Call and he will come.” Arielle rose from the bed, came to squeeze Serena’s hand. Around them, white light flared for an instant, its brilliance gathering to surround Serena with a luminous aura. “Use the light to protect yourself when you’re in hell. Remember to keep love in your heart. And one more thing—always remember that you’re a fully enlightened being.”

Julian burned. The fires of fever consumed him, his mind wandering through a delirious nightmare of images. He slipped in and out of consciousness, unable to distinguish exactly where he was, only that he was strapped to a surface, lying flat with his belly and chest exposed. He writhed, he twisted, but he could not escape the pain that seared through his body.

Corbin loomed over him, the flesh of his face melting away to skeleton, the eyeballs uncovered and bulging. Corbin’s bare skull, teeth bared in a permanent grin, white against the exposed jawbone. “You remember Brooke, don’t you, Julian? You ruined her life. She’s been down here, waiting for you.”

Brooke Bentley’s vibrant beauty had already been ravaged during her years on earth, but hell had transformed her into a creature Julian no longer recognized. A being no longer human, a grotesque parody of the woman she’d been in life. The skin he’d once caressed was now torn and hanging from her in ribbons of gore. Desiccated weeds tangled in her matted auburn hair, and a putrid stench arose as she moved toward Julian. At the ends of her fingers were no longer fingernails, but the claws of a bird of prey, a Frankensteinian version of a harpy’s hand.

“This is for what you did to me. For all of the women you destroyed,” she shrieked, plunging one of those talons toward the pit of his belly.

“No!” Agony roiled in the pit of Julian’s gut; his insides buckled as though she had impaled his abdomen with a glowing hot iron. But when he looked down, his shirtless body was unmarked. Was it an illusion, this torture? Whatever it was, in this nightmare of a hell realm, the pain was very real.

Brooke laughed then, her cackle spiraling up into a ringing echo, infernally loud in the cavernous space around him, even as he clenched his eyes shut against her.

Nothing could save him. He was damned, and he would remain here, trapped in this endless suffering. Because he deserved it, he knew. He may have prayed for Serena when he needed the support of the divine. But for himself, Julian knew he was beyond prayer. Beyond hope. Beyond redemption.

Regret.
Since the end of his human life, centuries ago, the word had signified nothing. When the shot of his pistol had pierced the heart of Luciana’s husband, he had known regret. But upon his human death, immersed in the blaze of hell, that regret had burned away, licked into flames the same way paper dissolves in fire. His regret had melted into the ember emotions of bitterness and malice.

He thought of Serena. Through experiencing her love, he had recovered the meaning of regret. He deserved to be punished. For all of the countless lives he had ruined, for all the people who had suffered exactly like this. His actions had resulted in the torture of thousands, and for that, he deserved to be punished. Most of all, he deserved to be punished because he’d placed Serena’s life at risk. He had toyed with divinity, and he had come very close to corrupting it.

As Brooke plunged her needle-sharp claw into his stomach once again, Julian’s single consolation was that at least Serena was safe.

The sky in Julian’s hell was a deep gray, the clouds pregnant and threatening to burst at any moment. They rolled overhead at a terrifying speed, giving Serena a feeling of vertigo as she walked behind Gabriel. To quiet her stomach, she focused on his white wings, brilliant against the drab landscape.

In the distance, the outline of a ruined English manor house dominated a hilltop. Gabriel said in a hushed voice, “That’s Julian’s ancestral home. It’s here, in his version of hell, because this is the scene of his deepest fears.”

“Where is he?” Serena asked, shivering. It was supposed to be hot in hell, not cold, wasn’t it?

The Archangel motioned for her to follow him. Entering a forest of withered trees, they walked until they reached a dilapidated cottage. The thatched roof was crumbling, covered in patches of mold, and the garden rambled, overgrown with weeds, roses decomposing in mottled shades of dried blood. Without knocking, Gabriel pushed open the door and entered.

Inside, a thick layer of dust covered the dark wood floors. The few sparse pieces of furniture were broken and decaying. As Serena took a step forward, the floor-board beneath her foot creaked and then gave way. Gingerly, she pulled her foot out of the hole and continued behind Gabriel.

From another room, they heard a man curse, and another groan.

Gabriel held a finger to his lips, signaling for silence. As quietly as she could, Serena followed him. He pushed open the door.

Julian was chained to a child’s bed, its wooden frame rotting, exactly as it had been in her nightmare. He was shivering, sweat running down his face.

Serena knelt, smoothed a hand over his forehead. “What’s wrong with him?”

“Typhus,” Gabriel said. “Before mankind invented antibiotics, it was an illness spread by body lice.”

“So it’s treatable?” she asked.

Gabriel nodded. “With modern medicine, it is completely curable.”

Julian opened his eyes, the crack of a fevered gaze showing through his encrusted lids. “You shouldn’t have come here. I can no longer protect you—I’ve been stripped of my powers. Please go. Before he gets back.”

A chill ran up the back of her neck, and she sensed the approach of something ominous, the way a cat might sense a coming storm. Her back was turned toward the door, and she whirled to protect it from the approach of evil. As she did, she saw that Corbin stood in the doorway. Not a Corbin she had ever seen before, but she recognized immediately that it was the essence of the demon uncovered, stripped down to the bone. Remnants of flesh, veins, arteries clung to his skeletal limbs and head, but he moved like no living thing she’d ever seen. Serena drew herself up, standing tall even though her entire body trembled. “Speak of the devil.”

Corbin slammed the door shut behind him, closing the space of the small room. The walls seemed to constrict, the four of them cloistered in the enclosure, steeping in the rot of illness. “Why, this is an unexpected visitation. Angels in hell. And not yet fallen, I see,” Corbin roared. “You’ve pushed your luck a bit too far, I’m afraid. Now that you’ve come, you’re here to stay.”

“We’ve come for Julian,” Serena announced, knees buckling under her as she spoke. If she failed here, there would be three souls lost, not just one. She had known it, trusted that Gabriel, her guide, would protect them from the heinous forces that dwelled here.

And Gabriel towered beside her, glorious even in this pestilent squalor. Hell did not diminish the glow of his luminous down wings, nor could it dull the gentle beauty of his face. He stood silently, but Serena drew courage from his presence.

Corbin sneered as he regarded them. “Julian’s not going anywhere. He’s going to rot down here in hell for the rest of time. And you’ll rot with him.”

She took a deep breath and said, “You have no power over me, Corbin. You may have been able to best me once, but I don’t fear you anymore.”

That bony grin answered her. In a blur of shadow, the demon whipped forward and grasped her arm. “I’m going to give you a taste of what your life is going to be like from now on. We’re going on a little tour of your own personal hell.”

She felt her body dissolving, wavering in the small cottage bedroom, transported out of it. Dematerializing.
Remember that you are a fully enlightened being,
Arielle had said. Serena stared hard into Corbin’s eyes and concentrated on that thought:
You are a fully enlightened being.

He fought against her, his willpower outstripping hers. Around them, a different scene started to materialize: that of a rainy, cold day one year ago. She stood on the side of the road, soaked to the skin. Fifteen feet away, two cars had collided, their windows fogged, obscuring the occupants. But Serena knew who was in those cars. In one, a mother and her two preschoolers. In the other, Meredith. The scent of gasoline hung in the air, omen of the explosion that fate had ordained.

But when she tried to run to save the trapped family, she was unable to move. Corbin stood beside her, gripping her arm. “Welcome to hell,” he said.

“I’m not afraid,” she shouted, against the breathlessness of cold that rushed into her mouth as she opened it. “Even if I can’t save them, that family will be with the angels. Even if they pass to the other side, they are safe.”

Around them, the rain began to beat down harder, setting a chill in her bones. Thunder boomed like an amplified timpani, and Corbin laughed to its accompaniment. “Not here. Not in hell. You and your loved ones will stay here in
my
domain. You. Julian. Your father. You will dwell in the principalities of the lost forever.”

“How dare you speak of my father. You have no power over any of us. We have done nothing to deserve being caught here with
you.
” She looked Corbin in the eyes again, unafraid. “I’ve already been through hell with you, and I’m not doing it again.” Again and again, she thought,
You are a fully enlightened being. You are a fully enlightened being
.

He grabbed her and spun around beneath the downpour. “Do you think it’s that easy? That you can just wish hell away? It doesn’t work that way. You’re playing by my rules now.”

“I’m not playing at anything, Corbin,” she said, her voice rising. “The time for games is over.”

She willed harder.
You are a fully enlightened being
.
You are a fully enlightened being.

The scene shifted yet again. This time, as it materialized, Serena stood at the front door of her childhood home in Carmel. She looked down at herself, saw her old favorite pink hooded sweatshirt on her adolescent body.

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