Descent

by Tara Fuller

  “It’s going to be fine.”

  I reluctantly nodded, and he grabbed my hand, pulling me through the dark doorway ahead of us. I cast a quick glance over my shoulder to check on Tyler. He followed close behind. He didn’t want to. His fear made that clear. But his need to not be alone on the streets of Hell likely drove him forward.

  We entered a room lit by the flickering glow of torches. A stainless steel instrument table like I’d seen in hospitals sat in the middle of the room. Cyril raked an arm across the surface and bloody surgical tools scattered to the floor. Easton nudged a pair of grimy forceps and a syringe away from me with the toe of his boot and raised a brow at the imp.

  “You should really look into hiring a new housekeeper.”

  “What’sss the matter, reaper? Don’t like being on my turf?”

  “It’s not your turf I mind as much as the general company.” Easton cast an amused look at the demons surrounding the table. “Not that you aren’t pretty, ladies. The slime…it’s charming, really.”

  A hulking demon draped in patchwork skin growled and stepped forward, slamming a meaty fist down on the table. Cyril frowned at the dent he left behind and clambered atop the table to push him away.

  “Calm yourssself.” He looked hungrily at Easton, and the demon’s nostrils flared. “You’ll get your turn with him ssssoon enough.”

  Easton leaned on the table watching them. “I didn’t mean to offend your girlfriend, Cyril. My apologies.”

  “We’ll see how funny you are when he has you sssstrung up by your sssspine!” he sneered.

  In the corner, a demon dropped Scout’s limp body to the floor. I chewed on my bottom lip and willed him to wake up. To do something about this before it was too late. Easton may have been confident, but I wasn’t. These demons weren’t going to just let us walk out of here.

  Cyril climbed onto a stool and slapped a deck of cards down on the table. He shuffled them around and dealt with a quick efficiency I hadn’t expected from his knobby, broken-looking fingers. He peered up at Easton, a dark secret burning in his eyes. I could feel it. The dishonesty that ran through him pulsed and flashed like a warning.

  “Play,” he said, eagerly.

  Easton picked up his cards and casually tossed down a few. They went back and forth like this. The imp looking agitated, while Easton tossed cards around the table looking bored. I leaned against the wall next to Tyler, wondering how long this was going to go on. His fear had cooled, but a fog of hopelessness had taken its place. I didn’t know which was worse.

  “You know he’s going to lose,” he said. His eyes looked empty as he watched the card game.

  I pulled my knees up to my chest and rested my chin on them. “He never loses.”

  “Everyone loses here.” His head lolled back against the wall, and he stared blankly at the ceiling. I watched Scout’s body twitch and bend as it inched its way back to life. Finally he sat up, blinking as he took in his surroundings. He met my gaze across the room and in an instant he bolted to his feet, breathing hard.

  “Not so fast,” a demon growled, poking Scout in the side with his own blade. He held his hands up and backed up a few steps, looking to Easton for answers.

  “What’s going on, man?”

  Easton lay down another card and sighed. “I’m about to win a card game. Want to keep it down over there?”

  Cyril cackled and slammed his cards down on the table. His eyes danced with victory and hunger and greed. “I win! I win! I win!”

  Easton leaned forward and I scrambled to my feet to see the cards on the table. No…he couldn’t lose. He said he never lost. A card crumpled in Easton’s fist and his jaw clenched. Dread, heavy and consuming, settled over the room.

  “You cheated,” he said, so low I barely heard him over the imp’s cackling.

  “Doesssn’t matter,” the imp hissed. “You’re mine. A deal’s a deal.”

  He motioned to the demon in the corner, and the hulking giant grabbed Scout by the collar and shoved him toward me. Scout stumbled forward and I caught him, wasting no time in laying a hand on his cheek to take away his weakness and give him strength. He was going to need it. Easton stared at the cards on the table in disbelief. Why wasn’t he doing something? I released Scout and grabbed a fistful of the back of Easton’s T-shirt and pulled, trying to get him to stand. To fight. Why was he just sitting there?

  “Easton, get up,” I pleaded. “We need to run.”

  He didn’t answer me. Didn’t look. He simply closed his eyes and dropped the crumpled cards in his hand to the table. “Gwen…get out of here.”

  “No!” I wailed, tears burning twin paths down my cheeks. The saltiness stung my cracked lips and blurred my vision. “I’m not leaving you! I won’t!”

  “You wanted to get Tyler out,” he said. “This is how we do it. This is how I keep you safe. Now leave before they change their mind.”

  A low growl rumbled in one of the demons’ chests as he stepped forward, meaty fists ready to punish. He could have me. I didn’t care. But he wasn’t keeping Easton.

  “Scout,” Easton said, voice devoid of emotion. “Get her out of here. Take her home.”

  Scout’s hands wrapped around my arms and dragged me back. He pulled me toward the hall, fighting me as I kicked and screamed and thrashed with a violence I’d never experienced. I couldn’t breathe through the fear, the guilt, the pain, the loss. I couldn’t leave him. I loved him! You didn’t just abandon the people you loved.

  “Gwen!” Scout growled against my ear as he pulled me out into the night. “Get it together. We can’t help him. He agreed to this. If we stay, we’re all done. Do you get that?”

  “I can’t leave him,” I sobbed, pain ripping my heart up and out of my throat. “I can’t…”

  “You have to,” he whispered.

  Chapter 25

  Easton

  There’s something to be said for an endless supply of pain. It does things to the mind. Twists it, burns away nerve endings, and washes away the memory of anything good. It has a way of making you believe nothing came before this moment. This torture. This nightmare. A poison-tipped set of claws raked down the back of my neck, taking its time, treating my pain as if it were an art that took time and patience to perfect.

  I gritted my teeth, and despite my best efforts to hold it in, a strangled groan ripped up out of my throat. Not wanting to give them the satisfaction, I tried to swallow the sound back down, but it was too late. It was out there setting fire to the dangerous fuel in the air. The demon cackled in delight and raked his claws down my back, digging deep, ripping straight through my flesh to get to my spine. Jesus, how had I not passed out? I wanted to pass out. I wanted it so badly I would have done anything to get it.

  I jerked on my chains and cursed, not able to process the words dribbling from my lips. Were they even words at this point? Probably not. I blinked, forcing my eyes to stay open, and watched Cyril hobble into the room.

  “Enough!” he growled. “Your time issss up. We have to sssave some for him.”

  Him? I wasn’t sure whom Cyril was referring to, but the way he said it made me damn certain I didn’t want to know. I’d delivered a lot of souls down here the past five hundred years and pissed off more demons than I could count. There was probably a line of them waiting outside that door for their turn with the infamous Easton. The demon retracted its claws from my spine, and I winced as the pressure subsided and a warm wetness soaked the back of my shirt. Blood. Good. Maybe I’d lose enough to check out for the day. Then maybe I could stop torturing myself with thoughts of Gwen, wondering if Scout had gotten her out yet. The agony of not knowing if she was safe was worse than anything they could ever do. So much worse.

  Cyril looked me over, inspecting me with a disgusted look on his slimy face. “Think you can handle one more?”

  I laughed. It sounded bitter and hollow even to my ears. “Does it matter if I say no?”

  Cyril scowled, hobbling over to grab my chin, t
ilting it side to side. Probably making sure the last one hadn’t severed my spine. To my utter delight, my head didn’t roll off my body.

  “If you can make jokesss, then you’re fine,” he said.

  “You’re making a killing off of me, aren’t you, old friend?” I asked. “You know, you almost had me fooled into thinking you might be different.”

  He cast a nervous glance back at the exit before finally leaving the room and shutting the door behind him. I shifted in my seat, trying to relieve the pressure-like pain in my back.

  “You look like shit,” a familiar voice said from a dark corner of the room. I lifted my head and watched my best friend stroll into the dim light, a sad smile on his face.

  “Finn,” I croaked.

  He knelt down in front of me and shook his head. “What did you do, Easton? How many times did you warn me about this? How many times did you give me shit for putting it all on the line for Emma? And now you’re here…over an angel.”

  I swallowed, mouth dry, lips cracked. “You’re not real.”

  He cocked his head to the side, watching me with eyes so vibrant and green it made it easy to pretend he was real. That he was here.

  “I’m as real as you want me to be,” he said, simply.

  I wanted him to be real. It had been so long since I’d talked to Finn like this. I’d seen him before, but I had always stayed hidden, even when he’d sensed me, begged me to speak up. I hadn’t been able to get over my petty anger that he’d left me behind. That he was out in the world with a heartbeat and breath in his lungs. That I was still here, nothing more than another monster, dead, cold, detached from everything and everyone I’d ever cared about.

  But now that Gwen had opened my eyes to more, I felt so fucking stupid for letting it all get in the way. And now the only way I’d get to say the things I needed to say was going to be admitting them to the empty hallucination before me.

  “I’m sorry,” I said.

  His brows pulled together, confused. “What for?”

  “You found happiness, and I abandoned you for it. I told you to leave Emma alone when you were just trying to keep her safe,” I said, hating the words coming out of my mouth. Hating knowing how true they were. I hadn’t understood then. What it was like to love someone. Live for them. To be willing to die for them. “I’ve been an asshole.”

  Finn laughed. “You’ve always been an asshole. It’s why you’re my best friend. Sometimes I need an asshole to keep me in line.”

  I thought about Gwen. How much she reminded me of Finn. How two people who had so much goodness running through their veins could ever love me, I’d never know. Dark spots bloomed across my vision, and for the first time since they’d dragged me down through the bone-littered catacombs of Hell, I fought to stay in the present.

  “You love her,” Finn said. It wasn’t a question, because this Finn was in my head. He knew. Who was I kidding? The real Finn would have known, too. The fact that I was here by choice, all bleeding skin and twisted bones, just to keep her safe was proof of that. I answered anyway.

  “Yeah.” I swallowed hard, forcing the painful sensation coating my throat down. “I love her.”

  “You know I always hoped you’d find someone,” he said. “I just never thought you’d pick the boss’s daughter. Pretty ballsy, don’t you think?”

  I grinned, but I don’t think my lips cooperated. Finn shook his head, jaw clenching as he looked over my broken body. “I used to think I’d be happy to see you like this, getting a taste of what you gave me.”

  If I hadn’t known it wasn’t the real Finn before, I would have known now. The Finn I knew, that thought never would have crossed his mind. Nah. That was my shit. My insecurities spewing from the mouth of an imitation. I played along, starting to wonder if I’d projected this Finn, or if this was another special gift from Hell.

  “Are you?” I asked.

  “No.”

  Behind Finn, the door creaked open, and a shadowy figure walked into the cave-like room. His footsteps were slow, heavy, purposeful. Against my will, my heart kicked to life in my chest, pounding out a terrified rhythm. The temperature in the room seemed to rise at least twenty degrees, and even as the sweat poured off me, a cold, steely chill ran down my spine.

  Finn stood, keeping his eyes on me, arms at his sides, waiting. The shadowy figure stepped up behind him and placed a blade to his throat.

  “Is this how you did it when you slaughtered my men, Easton?” a gravelly voice asked.

  I jerked in my chair as the eerily familiar sound reached me. I pulled at the chain, but it didn’t budge an inch.

  “No?” he asked. “How about like this?”

  The blade slid through Finn’s neck, and a thin line of blood appeared. He choked and his eyes turned empty and black. I fought back the nausea punishing me for watching. My best friend’s body collapsed to the floor, and I looked up at the man waiting on the other side. Dietrich’s yellowed smile beamed down at me as if he’d been waiting a millennium for this moment.

  “You’ve got the technique all wrong,” I gritted out. “I started at their belly button and cut through to their chins. Slower that way.”

  Dietrich’s eyes flared with anger, and his hands clenched into fists at his sides. He waltzed a slow circle around the chair I was chained to, stopping behind me. Putrid breath danced over my ear when he leaned down.

  “My brother was among the men you slaughtered,” he growled. “Is that how you killed him as well?”

  “Yes.” I tilted my head, wincing. “But if I’d known he was your brother I would have done things differently.”

  “Oh? How’s that?”

  “If I’d have known he was your blood, I would have given him the death you gave my sisters.”

  A cold, bony fist grabbed my hair and jerked my head back. I stared up into a pair of vengeful, cruel eyes. This wasn’t a hallucination. This was real. All these years later and at last I was facing him again.

  “Do you remember what I said to you, just before I killed you?”

  I swallowed the bile coming up my throat. His grip tightened, and a black, simmering pain shot down my spine. I shut my eyes and allowed my mind to be flooded with thoughts of Gwen. I wanted to see her face one last time. Remind myself this was worth it. She was worth it.

  “I said one day, I’d find you in Hell and start your torment all over again,” he whispered. “Today is that day, Easton.”

  Chapter 26

  Gwen

  I stared out the bleary, soot-coated window, watching the streets of Hell. I felt empty and wrong, like someone had ripped me open, scooped out the important parts, and sewn me back together again. Without Easton, there were no important parts. He had been the one to bring them to life. And now…he was out there. He was out there enduring horrific things, and he was doing it for me.

  I turned when I heard Scout riffling through the room behind me, frantically searching for anything he could use as a weapon. The demons had taken his blade. He acted as if they’d taken a limb. My gaze drifted to the bed where Tyler lay curled up into a ball. Memories came crashing over me one after another. Easton’s hands, his lips, his body healing beneath my touch. I couldn’t stay in this room where I’d told Easton I loved him only a day ago.

  “I can’t believe you left him,” I finally said. My voice was scratchy and my throat raw from screaming. He slammed a dresser drawer shut and braced his hands on the edge as he glared at me through the reflection of the broken mirror.

  “Easton is a big boy. He can take care of himself,” he said. “He knew what he was doing when he made that deal.”

  “They cheated!”

  “You think he didn’t see that as a possibility going in?” he scoffed. “He had one goal in mind when he went into that game. Keeping you safe. Getting you out of here. He made sure that was going to be the outcome whether he won or lost. He got what he wanted. As soon as I can barter for some protection, I’m getting you and the kid the hell out of h
ere and putting the worst mistake of my afterlife behind me.”

  He jerked another drawer open, pulling it from its melted hinges and tossed it across the room. Angry tears burned my cheeks. He didn’t care about Easton. And if he did, he was too wrapped up in his own fear to do something about it. I wiped the palm of my hand over my eyes to clear them.

  “You’re a coward,” I said.

  Scout weighed the shard of metal in his hand before shoving it into his back pants pocket. “I’m a reaper.”

  “No. You’re Father’s puppet,” I said. “And he’s pulled your strings, hasn’t he? You’d leave behind a brother just to please him.”

  He turned on me, eyes burning, nostrils flared. Anger and guilt thundered around him, clouding my thoughts. “And what about you? What do you think Daddy is going to do when you get home, Gwen? Welcome you with open arms? No. He’s going to rip those pretty metaphorical wings out of your back and toss you down into the pit with the rest of us.”

  “He would never do that.”

  Scout smirked. “We’ll see.”

  He turned for the door and jerked it open, stopping to glance over his shoulder at me. “Don’t even think about going anywhere.”

  The door slammed shut and I flinched, my feet cemented to the floor beneath me, while my mind attempted to work out a plan. If Scout wouldn’t help me, I’d have to go after Easton on my own. I turned back to the crowded streets of the city. Fear burned within me, steady and bright. I felt incredibly small looking down at it all. Without Easton beside me, I felt like a toy ship lost at sea, bobbing helplessly among the waves. Easton thought I was brave. I didn’t feel very brave. I felt afraid.

  “I know you,” Tyler’s voice croaked from the bed behind me. “I don’t know how, but…I do.”

  I turned and watched him ease up into a sitting position, wincing with pain. “Yes.”

  “How?”

  “I’m an angel of joy,” I said. “I found you in the hospital two years ago. I’ve been with you ever since. Healing you. Helping you find the light.”