by Julie Hall
“But what if that is my fault? We don’t actually know why they’re being attacked. What if it’s because of me?”
Logan was silent for a moment as he took the time to really consider the possibility. Then he turned me in his arms. I didn’t know when I had become so comfortable there, but I wasn’t about to move away, even if I had been ready to throat punch him just a little while ago. I needed all the consolation he was willing to give, and physical touch was soothing right now.
“Even if your family has been targeted because of you, none of this is your fault. You didn’t do this to them. This may have something to do with you, although since you are already dead that doesn’t make much sense, but even if that were the case, it doesn’t make it your fault. And it’s not your responsibility to fix it.”
I must have looked pathetically desperate for answers, because he went on. “God uses trials to strengthen people. When in despair, both your parents just turned to God. They are in a place where they need to rely on Him to get them through this. If you could take all this away from them, you would be doing them a disservice. It may seem the best thing to lift someone’s burden yourself, but it’s not yours to bear. It’s God’s, and it’s your family’s chance to learn to put their burdens where they belong. You’d be robbing them of something far more precious than money if you got in the way of what God has planned here.”
I didn’t like that answer. I just wanted to fix everything for them. Hadn’t they been through enough? They’d lost a child. How much could they truly bear on their own?
Nothing, something whispered inside me. On their own they can bear nothing. The soft voice continued. I will carry their load.
“What-the-what?” I spun out of Logan’s arms and frantically searched the room for whoever had spoken.
“Audrey?” Logan asked tentatively.
“Who was that?”
Logan was back to giving me the look that said I’d grown an extra head. Oddly enough, I had a moment of nostalgia before shaking it off.
“There was someone else here. I heard his voice.”
“Oh.” Logan’s eyes lit with recognition. “Did you hear it with these,” he pointed to his ears, “or in here?” He gently laid a hand on the top of my head.
My silence spoke volumes.
“He never leaves us or forsakes us. His Spirit goes with us, Audrey, and if we are sensitive to His presence, we’ll hear what we need to hear.”
I caught my breath. “That’s what that was?”
He smiled in response. His smiles always threw me. He was gorgeous.
A loud engine backfire made me jump. I ran to the front window with Logan on my heels. I recognized my brother’s junker of a car immediately as it cruised toward the house. What wasn’t familiar was the blackened creature attached to its roof.
I whirled toward Logan. “There’s something we can do about that, right?”
“Definitely.” He turned and sprinted back up the stairs, heedless of squeaky steps. I followed in his wake.
11
A Spiky Situation
We took far less care leaving the house than we had entering. The wheezing of my brother’s car camouflaged the noises of our hasty retreat. The squeak then bang! of the front door opening and closing echoed throughout the house just as I slipped through the window. I barely bothered with the tree, only gripping a branch before dropping two stories to the ground.
I beat Logan around the side of the house just in time to watch the demon detach and land on the paved road, the moment before the car rolled into the driveway, seemingly on fumes alone. I flew by my parents on their way to meet my brother and charged the creature, sword already drawn, flames licking the blade.
The demon prowled haughtily at the property line. I was sure it couldn’t see me coming or it would have already fled. My sword was no joke, and word had to have gotten around about the damage it inflicted. A horde of demons was one thing. There was something to be said about safety in numbers. A single demon hardly stood a chance.
As soon as I crossed the protective barrier I became visible to the creature. It shrieked, revealing row upon row of sharp, snake-like teeth. Too late to flee, it took an offensive position and swiped its spiked tail at me.
I squinted my eyes . . . I knew this demon. It was eerily similar to the one I’d faced in the gauntlet. Apparently, they hadn’t used creative license after all. My lips twitched in the ghost of a smile. I so had this.
No more useless metal sword for me. Charbroiled spikes coming right up! Given the right position, I might even be able to dispatch this ugly guy in one swipe.
A second tail I hadn’t seen at first whipped toward me. Okay, make that two swipes.
“Audrey, stand down!”
Logan’s yell penetrated my battle focus. I choked down my frustrated scream. Why were people always holding me back? Despite my annoyance, I complied and launched myself to the side, rolling away and out of reach of the demon. It swung around and immediately picked up pursuit.
And that’s how I ended up running from the demon I should have been cutting down.
“Logan!” I growl-yelled as I sprinted back toward the property line. I made the mistake of checking behind me and stumbled on the curb. Logan’s arms were there in an instant, and he threw me through the air toward the house and beyond the demon’s reach. I landed on my back and the air punched from my lungs. Rolling over, I lifted my eyes toward the demon, whose jaws were moments away from shredding Logan.
Logan stood with his feet braced and one arm stretched out in front of him, palm open and pointed at the demon. His sword hung uselessly at his side.
Fear for him froze me. I watched in horror as he was about to be impaled and bitten.
My mouth opened in a silent scream that would never reach his ears.
And then blinding white lightning shot from Logan’s hand and slammed into the fallen angel’s chest.
The thing cringed in on itself like a dying spider. Logan wasted no time bringing his sword into play and severed its head in one mighty blow. He stood above it, breathing heavily. I watched his shoulders heave from where I lay sprawled on the ground. My unblinking eyes were probably the size of saucers.
Logan didn’t turn away from the corpse until it disintegrated into nothing. Only then did he face me, a haunted expression shadowed his features, before hurrying over. He dropped to his knees by my side.
“Are you hurt?” He scanned my body for injury. When I didn’t answer, his eyes met mine, and he cocked his head. “You actually listened to me,” he said. There was something akin to awe in his voice.
I found my own. “Are you serious right now?”
“You never listen to me.”
“That is not true.”
His eyebrows dropped as if to say, “Yeah, right.”
“There have been other times I have listened to you,” I argued. I couldn’t think of any right now, but that was inconsequential. “But look where it got me! You threw me. Like through the air threw me! And this time I didn’t land in water. I have a seriously sore backside right now.”
He looked at me like he was trying to stay serious, but couldn’t. His mouth twitched as he stood and offered me a hand up. I narrowed my eyes and took his hand, yelping as a spark of electricity or . . . something, leapt from his hand to my own. My wide-eyed look came back.
“What was that all about?” My voice was small, my bravado abandoned. Logan, I remembered, had just electrocuted a demon . . . with nothing but his outstretched hand. The revelation currently overshadowed the fact he’d called me off my own attack.
Logan’s eyes dropped. “Yeah, that was part of the story I never got to because you got so . . .” he struggled to find the right word, “. . . salty before.”
“Salty? I do not get salty.”
He pointed a finger at me. “You’re acting salty right now.”
I locked my lips after huffing out a breath. All right, he might have had a point. I did kind of get tha
t way sometimes. But he wasn’t supposed to call me out on it.
“Come on,” he said. “Let’s get somewhere safe, and we can talk further.”
I cast a worried glance at my house. It shone in the darkness, yet it was no longer able to chase away the shadows as the last vestiges of light disappeared over the horizon.
“It’s getting late. They’re probably in for the night.” He pointed toward the backyard shed. “We can stay there.” I cast him an unsure look. “You already know no demons are making it onto the property. Come on.”
I wasn’t actually thinking about demons. “You want us to hang out in the shed? That place is a stinky mess.” My nose scrunched of its own accord.
“Hunters have been protecting your family for a while now. We’ve made some upgrades.” He chuckled over his shoulder as he led the way. I reluctantly followed.
Logan stopped in front of the structure, which was about the size of a small bedroom. Dad used the shed mostly to store his tools, including the lawn mower, so my expectations of comfort were low. We’d probably be sitting on overturned utility buckets amidst the smells of gasoline and decomposing leaves. This would be a long night.
After taking meticulous care to make sure no one was watching, Logan gingerly opened the door and quickly ushered me inside.
O-kay. I was wrong. He was right. The shed no longer resembled the shed. The walls weren’t the rough, unfinished barn boards I remembered. Dad’s equipment was absent, and the dimensions of the one-room outbuilding weren’t even what they should have been. I recognized the physics of the afterlife at work. This place was easily three times the size of the shed we’d just entered. Four white walls—I hated white walls—enclosed the space.
Logan bumped into my back and forced me inside a step further as he slid the door closed behind us, but I hardly noticed.
At the back of the room were twin beds with—you guessed it—white bedding. I grudgingly admitted they looked fluffy and soft.
The wall between the beds reminded me of a mini version of the training center’s gyms. Various weapons had been strapped, hung, and placed there. A small shelf was secured to the wall above each bed. I assumed they were there to hold one’s weapon of choice
A small two-person table was set to my left, with two chairs neatly in place. Thankfully they weren’t white—both table and chairs were made from a honey-colored wood.
A vase of flowers even sat in the middle of the table pushed against the wall. To our right was a small kitchenette with a narrow fridge, two burners, and a few cobalt-blue cabinets the same shade as Logan’s eyes, giving some much-needed color to the washed-out space.
Shiny globes filled with light and suspended in the air illuminated the whole space. They cast a glow just strong enough to lighten the interior without all the white hurting my eyes. I turned my head sideways. There was a thick, lumpy fur rug adorning the floor. Wait a sec, that wasn’t a rug—it was snoring.
“Bear?”
My golden retriever’s tail wagged once, and his oversized head lifted fractionally before he huffed and lay back down.
“I think he’s mad you left him.”
I wouldn’t be surprised. “What is this place?”
Logan rubbed his neck before answering. “It’s an alternate reality pocket. It was created inside this shed as a refuge for hunters so they can sleep or relax between shifts.”
“What if my family comes inside here? What will they see?”
“Your shed. This is a pocket where two realities exist at the same time. They’re actually very rare. We try to disturb Earth reality as little as possible. But when it’s necessary . . .” he shrugged.
“Wow.”
“Want something to eat?” he asked.
I nodded, and he led me to the table. “Here, sit. I’ll cook for us, then we can talk.”
“You cook?”
The smile he shot me was nothing short of cocky. “I have so many hidden talents, if you knew them all your head would spin.”
As my face darkened, the tips of my hair turned pink.
“I didn’t mean it like that, Audrey.” He turned toward the fridge to pull out some food then cleared his throat. “I was just trying to lighten the mood.” He continued after a few beats. “Although it’s not like I wouldn’t say the same about those other talents. I’m sure you’d find I’m more than—”
“Oh my gosh!” I practically shrieked. “Enough! Seriously, enough. I don’t want to hear another word out of your mouth right now. What is wrong with you? Do you have some split personality disorder I’m not aware of?”
I was more than half-serious. His behavior since finding me with Morgan went way beyond mere mood swings.
Even with his back to me, his low chuckle reached my ears. The pink in my hair spread. I pinched the bridge of my nose. This boy is going to be the death of me. I winced at my internal word choice. But seriously, what was I going to do with him? I mean, what choices did I even have?
The corner of my mind where I’d shoved ‘the incident’ started to prickle. I batted it back in to its hidden place. I didn’t want to sort through the complications of our relationship—or lack thereof—at the moment. Maybe . . . maybe when this mess with my family was sorted out, I’d get the courage to actually have a grown-up discussion with Logan. But for now, I would pretend it didn’t happen. That was the only way I could focus on what was really important, which was my family.
Logan grabbed items from the fridge and pulled a pan from the cabinet to place on the stovetop. His back and the expanse of his broad shoulders blocked most of what went on so I gave up trying to see and turned my attention elsewhere.
Bear snored on the floor between the two beds. He was so darn cute. As if hearing my thoughts, he lifted his head and craned to see me before he huffed again and put it back down. Definitely mad at me.
I lifted myself from the chair and crossed the space between us. A belly rub would soften my old friend’s heart. His eyes followed me until I sat cross-legged at his side. “Hey you,” I whispered.
He shifted away when I leaned forward to pet him.
“Okay, I understand, you’re upset I didn’t take you with me.”
He looked back at me, his eyes watchful. I moved in for the kill. I scratched his chest, softly at first, and then more vigorously. Eventually his back leg kicked in tune to the rubs.
“That’s more like it. I don’t like it when you’re mad at me.” His big head flopped onto my lap. “I also don’t like the thought of you getting hurt.” He lifted his gaze and growled softly at me—a warning sound. “Whoa, when did you start doing that?”
“When he learned to understand you, and started to disagree with you.” Logan set the plates down at the now fully made table. Drinks, utensils, and napkins were laid out.
“Is that right?” I turned back to my furry friend. He actually bobbed his head up and down. I laughed. “Well, I suppose it’s about time you had a say.”
Bear opened his mouth and his tongue lolled out, making it appear as if he smiled in agreement. I rolled my eyes as I stood and faced Logan.
“Looks like you’re ready.”
Logan smiled and held a chair out for me. As I sat, he eased it forward. An omelet sat artfully on my plate with a side of cut-up fruit, accompanied by what appeared to be a glass of orange juice. It all smelled amazing.
Logan’s chair lightly scraped against the floor as he nudged himself forward. The table was so small our knees bumped slightly. I tried rearranging my legs, but all I managed to do was play a quick game of footsies with him. We both pretended not to notice.
“So,” I cleared my throat, “it’s breakfast for dinner?”
Logan lifted a shoulder. “It’s a favorite. And I make a mean omelet.”
“You seem pretty confident.”
“What’s not to be confident about? Taste it.”
Accepting his challenge, I cut into the cheese and what looked to be ham-and-spinach-filled dish and brought a fo
rkful to my mouth. He observed me closely. Too closely. I couldn’t resist the urge to mess with him a bit.
“You know not everyone knows how to make a good omelet,” I said, pulling the fork slightly away from my mouth.
“Audrey, just eat the food.”
“I don’t know . . . I mean, we’ve had our differences in the past, so how am I to know you didn’t put something in here?”
He looked baffled. “Like what?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe something to knock me out so you can just spirit me back to our realm without my permission.” I brought the fork closer and sniffed it skeptically. Hiding my real reaction to the scent was a challenge because, yum, there wasn’t much better than cheesy goodness. “Maybe I should learn how to smell poison.”
“Audrey.” Logan’s hand wrapped around mine. The simple touch set warnings blaring in my mind. “Just eat the food.” He gently led my hand, and thus the fork, to my mouth, his eyes holding mine the whole time.
“Open,” he commanded softly. And like a puppet, I did just that. When the fork was in my mouth, he trailed his hand down my arm and to my elbow before nodding toward my mouth. “Close and chew.”
Oh boy, was he condescending. But why all of a sudden didn’t I care?
The omelet was so good it broke the spell Logan had cast over me. I closed my eyes to savor the bite. The eggs were perfectly fluffy and the tangy bite of cheesy mixed with the salty ham in just the right way. I already couldn’t wait for my next taste. “Oh, Logan.” I made an appreciative noise in the back of my throat. “You were not wrong. Your omelet-making skills are superior. And you know, coming from me that’s pretty high . . . what?”
I used the napkin to wipe at my mouth self-consciously. Logan’s hand was still on my side of the table, and it appeared as if he was in some sort of trance. His eyes were locked on my lips in a predatory way. My body temperature rose because I’d seen that look before. I was a moment away from waving a hand in front of his face to break the tension when he suddenly pulled himself together. He snapped back against his seat, going so far as to move his chair back. His eyes dove to his omelet and he started shoveling it down.
