Descent

by Tara Fuller

  “The light, huh?” He raised a brow. “You sound like the old ladies who knock on my mom’s door at the ass crack of dawn on Saturday mornings handing out salvation on printed pamphlets.”

  “I helped you find April.” I didn’t say that he’d be alive if it weren’t for me. I should have. The fact that I hadn’t felt like a lie.

  At the sound of her name, pain flashed across his face like a whip. He clutched the exposed bedsprings on either side of him.

  “Where is she?”

  “Heaven,” I said. “Where you were supposed to go. Where you’re going to go as soon as we make it out of here.”

  He looked down at his trembling hands, hopelessly. “You actually think we’ll get out of here?”

  “I know you will,” I said.

  He looked up, eyes wide. “What about you?”

  I couldn’t promise I’d make it out. There was still the possibility I wouldn’t, and I didn’t want my last moments with the boy to be defined by lies. If getting Easton out meant me staying, then I would.

  “I have to find Easton. I can’t leave him behind. He’s…he’s…”

  He was everything.

  “There is no way Pretty Boy is letting you out of here,” he said. “He’s dead set on hauling you back to wherever it is you came from.”

  I looked down at him, pleading. “That’s why I have to go now. I have to—”

  The door swung open and Scout stomped inside, a new blade strapped to his biceps. He avoided my gaze and grabbed Easton’s pack off the floor. Outside in the hall, a girl screamed and her fear seeped in through the cracks around the door, intent on finding me.

  “I found a guide willing to help us get out of the city,” he said. “He’s not going to wait long, so we better hurry.”

  I exchanged a panicked look with Tyler. No! I was supposed to have more time. If he got me out of the city, I’d never make it back in alone. I searched the room for something, anything to distract him.

  Tyler swung his legs off the bed and exhaled a shaky breath. He peeked up at me through the damp brown curls hanging over his eyes. “I need to use the bathroom.”

  Scout raised a brow and nodded to the opening in the wall where a door had been ripped from its hinges. “Go.”

  “I need help, asshole,” Tyler grumbled. “I can’t walk.”

  Scout groaned and pulled Tyler up by the arm, guiding him to the bathroom. “You better be able to work that thing on your own.”

  Tyler looked over his shoulder and mouthed one word to me.

  “Run.”

  The second they disappeared into the bathroom, I grabbed one of the spare makeshift blades Scout left lying on the dresser. The jagged metal bit into my palm as I slipped through the door. At the end of the hall, two demons grappled with a rail-thin girl, kicking and fighting them off. It wasn’t going to do any good. Even if she escaped, there were a hundred more downstairs to take their place. I ignored the urge to go to her, to help her, relieve her pain. I didn’t even breathe as I descended the steps into the lust club. I straightened my spine and bit my lip as I swayed my hips, moving through the crowd, trying to blend in.

  A few hungry eyes followed me through the club, but I managed to get to the front door without drawing too much attention. The heat on the other side of the metal door burned my palm when I touched it. I pulled it away and looked down at my blistered hand. The furnace. When did the furnace blow? I didn’t have time to figure it out.

  “Gwen!” Across the room, Scout shoved his way through the crowd. “Don’t do this! Don’t run! You’ll never make it out of here. Don’t do that to him, Red…”

  I squeezed my eyes shut, blocking out the pain that came with hearing Scout use the nickname Easton had given me. He was trying to use Easton to lure me back. It wasn’t going to work. With one final burst of resolve I pushed through the door and lost myself in the sin and heat of the city.

  Chapter 27

  Easton

  My sisters were on their knees in front of me. Seline sobbed uncontrollably, and Ava looked up at me with pleading eyes. I gritted my teeth and looked away from the sight of Dietrich stroking Ava’s hair, chuckling as he drank up her fear like a fine wine. His dark eyes glittered in the firelight, and the specter of a truly evil creature flickered to life under the heat.

  “It was so satisfying killing them the first time,” Dietrich said, patting Seline on the head. “I have a feeling it will be even sweeter the second time, but maybe we should play first.”

  One by one, memories I had no desire to remember flashed through my mind.

  A knock on the door. Mother by the fire. Seline braiding Ava’s hair.

  “There are men outside,” Seline whispered, peeking out the window. “They say they want to speak to you, Easton.”

  I pulled her away from the window and shoved her behind me, pulling back the curtain to look outside. Torches lit a restless crowd, flickering with the wind of the storm rolling in. Dietrich shoved his way through the unruly group of men and held out his arms when he spotted me in the window. The fact that he was there should have told me how wrong it was all about to go.

  “Easton!” he shouted. “Brother! Come out so we can talk. Let’s leave the women out of this.”

  I backed away from the window and grabbed the blade my father had left me. The last one he’d crafted before the fever took him. I shoved it into the back of my trousers and looked to Mama. She stood from her seat by the fire, face pale.

  “Stay inside, son,” she whispered.

  I swallowed the fear clogging my throat and forced it into my belly. I was the man of the house now. Staying inside wasn’t an option. I walked over to Mama and kissed her forehead.

  “No worries, Mama,” I said. “I’m just going to see what they want. You know Dietrich. If I don’t go out, he’ll assume I have something to hide. We’re better off if I confront him.”

  “Easton?” Seline threw her arms around my neck, and I smoothed my hand over her hair. “Be careful.”

  “I will. Wait here.”

  It’s exactly what they’d wanted. To get me out of the way. Outnumber me so they could carry out their witch hunt. Back then all it took to be guilty of witchcraft in their eyes was to be capable of something they didn’t understand. They didn’t know how my mother and sisters could have possibly healed people with nothing more than prayer and herbs. And so they became witches. The same people they’d saved killed them for it. And now I was back there. Bound and helpless to watch this nightmare play out before me.

  I shut my eyes and focused on the pain. There was plenty to choose from. The bones in my right arm were crushed into a fine powder. The lacerations from Dietrich’s whip burned and throbbed. Blood formed in crisscross patterns that covered my original scars like lattice. Any of it was better than watching him toy with my sisters, drawing out their fear, their pain.

  “What’s wrong, Easton?” He laughed. “Don’t you find their fear fascinating? Were my men afraid when you slaughtered them? No…they were brave, weren’t they? I trained them well.”

  I spit a mouthful of blood at his feet and glared at him. “They cried like babies. Every one of them.”

  He pulled a sword from his belt and shoved it into Ava’s back, twisting, pushing until it popped out the other side, glinting between her ribs. A choked gurgle bubbled in her throat, and her eyes looked back at me, wide and empty, just before she crumpled to the floor at my feet.

  “Noooo!” I jerked on the chains, ripping myself apart further and not caring. “You son of a bitch! I’ll ruin you! I won’t rest until I see you burn for an eternity!”

  Dietrich laughed, slapping his hands on his knees. Once he’d regained some self-control, he leaned in close. I cringed as his rancid, deathly breath fanned across my face.

  “You actually believe you’ll escape this, don’t you?” He cocked his head to the side. “No. I’ve waited too long for this. You’re not going anywhere, old friend. I paid your imp friend an army jus
t to have this time with you.”

  His reared his arm back before his fist collided with my jaw in a loud crack. My head hung limp between us, and I wished I could black out. Wished he’d cut my fucking head off and end this for a while. I couldn’t stand the sound of his voice. The smell of him. I felt sick. I crawled into myself, throwing walls up in my mind. Needing to close myself off to it all. I could feel my sanity slipping. Could feel the thin walls between reality and hallucination crumbling. If I lost it here, I’d never get it back.

  “Easton!”

  I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block out Gwen’s voice. It wasn’t real. I didn’t want it to be real. Not here. Not near this devil and his bottomless bag of pain.

  “Get away from him!” Gwen’s voice sounded louder, clearer. Too clear.

  I lifted my head, using the last bit of energy I had left, and saw Gwen, fierce and beautiful, standing across the room, a shard of metal in her fist. Dietrich turned slowly with a confused look on his face.

  “You know this girl, Easton?” he asked, walking toward her.

  She stumbled back a few steps, then seemed to think better of it and lifted her chin, standing her ground. I wanted to tell this hallucination of Gwen to run, but I couldn’t speak. My tongue felt too big in my mouth, and the coppery tang of blood trickled down my throat.

  “Let him go,” she said.

  Dietrich laughed and looked back at me, amused. “Did you hear that, Easton? She thinks I should let you go. I think this one cares about you. Maybe we should play with her instead.”

  I forced myself out of the haze and tugged at my restraints. Why did he seem so surprised to see her? If she was his special creation to torture me, shouldn’t he know who she was? I swallowed back a mouthful of blood and the thick, consuming fear boiling in my gut. This couldn’t be Gwen. Not my Gwen. Not here. Not now.

  “Gwen,” I managed to choke out. “Get out. Please, get out.”

  She looked over at me, eyes glistening, and shook her head. She took three purposeful steps forward and pressed her palm against Dietrich’s chest. He gasped and stumbled back, staring down at her, wide-eyed and afraid. She followed him back, eyes screwed tight, and the pulsing, gilded glow in his chest grew brighter.

  “Wh-what are you doing?” he choked out. “Who are you?”

  Gwen didn’t answer, and Dietrich scrambled for the sword at his hip. I jerked on my restraints again, hard enough to hear my shoulder pop. Pain exploded inside me, and a brilliant rainbow of colors swarmed my vision. The chair I was tied to toppled over and busted apart under my weight. I looked up from the floor in time to see his fist wrap around the hilt of his sword.

  “Gwen!” I dragged myself across the floor, leaving a bloody trail behind me. “Wait!”

  An inhuman sound erupted from Dietrich. The light grew brighter, swallowing them in a bath of sunshine. His face grew pale and hollow. His skin thinned like paper, deteriorating and tearing before my eyes. Tears streamed down Gwen’s cheeks and she trembled, her legs wobbly and unsteady beneath her. Jesus…she was draining him. Only she wasn’t giving him anything good in return. She was taking everything evil and wrong inside him and locking it into herself.

  “Jesus, Gwen!” I scrambled to my knees and grabbed hold of her wrist. “Stop! Stop!”

  In a brilliant flash of light, Dietrich exploded into a cloud of dust and ash. The force of it seemed to suck the air out of the room, out of my lungs. Gwen cried out and collapsed before me.

  Suddenly the room was too quiet. Too dark. All that existed was Gwen and my broken body trying to hold it together long enough to pull her against me with my one good arm.

  “Red, wake up,” I pleaded. “Please, wake up.”

  She blinked at me with bloodshot eyes. She reached out and stroked my face, tears streaming out of the corners of her eyes. Part of me wondered if this was all just part of the twisted illusion set up for me. I was terrified that any moment she’d disintegrate beneath my fingers. That Dietrich or Cyril or some other horrific creature would come in to start tearing me apart all over again. I clasped her hand against my face. She felt real.

  “Please be real,” I whispered.

  She seemed to gather her strength and sat up on her knees, cupping my face in both of her hands. “I’m real.”

  She leaned in to press her lips to mine. I didn’t care that I was bloody or that it hurt like hell. I came back to life under the weight of that kiss. I slipped my good arm around her waist and pulled her as close as I could get her. She whimpered into my mouth and I pulled away, pressing my forehead against hers.

  “Jesus, Red…what the hell were you thinking?”

  “I told you I’d never leave you,” she whispered, sounding tired and empty.

  “You should have,” I said, not letting myself think about what could have happened. “You should have left me.”

  She pulled back, and the look in her eyes would have brought me to my knees had I not already been there.

  “I told you I wouldn’t leave you,” she said. “I couldn’t. Leaving you felt like I was leaving everything good inside me behind.”

  I stared into her eyes, and something clicked into place. A piece that felt final, complete. I didn’t care that she was an angel, I was a reaper. I didn’t care that everything about our world said we couldn’t work. I only cared that she was here. I was getting the chance to tell her what she deserved to hear. I wasn’t going to close my eyes to this existence not knowing if she’d made it out of this nightmare.

  “I love you,” I said. “I love you too much to keep you here. I have to take you home, Red.”

  Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, and she nodded. “I know.”

  Chapter 28

  Gwen

  Easton laced his fingers through mine as we stood at the steps to the Great Hall, still reeling from the frantic escape through Hell. I’d lost count of how many souls Easton promised to bring back. How much pain he swore to go back to endure. All of it just to get us out safe. I shuddered, squeezing his hand as Father’s electricity lit up the world around us, warning of the anger we were likely about to experience. I closed my eyes trying to feel him out, but all I could get was an angry darkness, clouding my senses like a thick fog.

  “Just let me do the talking, Gwen,” Easton said.

  “No. I won’t have him putting the blame on you for this. This was my fault.”

  “He’s going to punish me regardless,” he said. “I don’t have anything to offer him like Finn and Anaya. I’m not going to get a free pass. But you’re his daughter. If we play this right, at least you’ll be spared.”

  “But we did it!” I turned to him. “Tyler is in Heaven. We actually retrieved a soul from the depths of Hell. He’ll have to see the good in that.”

  He shook his head, a sad, resigned look dimming his violet eyes. “You don’t know your father like I do.”

  Easton squeezed my hand and allowed his fingers to turn to vapor and slip through mine. I would have given anything to feel him just then. Just for a moment. Just enough to chase away the fear brewing inside me. I couldn’t lose him. Not after everything we’d come back from. The fact that my own father might be the one to finally take him from me made me feel sick and wrong inside.

  “Red…” Easton touched my chin and lifted my gaze to his. He didn’t have to say the words. The way he looked at me said it all. No matter what Father did to us, he couldn’t take away the love that lived within us. I bit my lip and nodded.

  In front of us, the doors swung open and Father stepped outside. Vacant-eyed souls scattered, and reapers lurked in the foggy corners of the Inbetween to get a peek at the show.

  “I love you,” I whispered, turning forward. He might have known, but I needed to say it. Out loud. I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t.

  “I love you, too,” he whispered back. “Always. Don’t forget.”

  He was expecting Father to end him. At the very least send him away forever. I closed my eyes, battlin
g my own fear and doubt. I couldn’t let that happen. I had to believe the man I’d loved for seventeen years wouldn’t do something to bring me such pain. I clung to that thought as I watched Father descend the steps.

  He came to a stop in front of me, and everything inside me froze. We stared at each other for a moment, and before I could form a word, I was in his arms. He gathered me close and pressed his cheek to my hair. Shock stole the apology I’d had poised on my lips. I’d expected anger, disappointment, rage. I hadn’t expected this.

  “Gwendolyn,” he said. “My daughter. Tell me it’s really you. Tell me you’re safe.”

  “I’m okay, Father,” I whispered, stroking his silky hair. “I’m here. I’m so sorry I worried you.”

  He finally pulled away, and his love overwhelmed me, filling me with the kind of cleansing joy that healed me from the inside out. It didn’t last. His attention turned to Easton, and streaks of lighting crawled up the walls of the Great Hall.

  “You,” he growled, pointing a finger at Easton. “I told you to show her a few reaps. Scare her into knowing her place. I did not instruct you to take my only child on a suicide mission to the depths of Hell!”

  Father twisted his wrist, and Easton’s back bowed in pain as if he’d been skewered with an invisible rod.

  Oh God…no. I couldn’t watch this happen. Watching Easton’s pain, feeling it, was unbearable. This was worse than finding him in that cave. It was my father doling out the pain this time. A sob swelled in my throat, and Easton looked at me out of the corner of his eye, giving a slight shake of his head, telling me to stop. He groaned and forced himself to look Balthazar in the eye despite his pain.

  “She didn’t need to be scared back into the gilded cage you kept her in,” he said, voice strained. “She is the strongest person I’ve ever met, and you don’t give her enough credit.”

  Father twisted his wrist further, and Easton dropped to his knees as if he were a puppet and Father was pulling the strings.

  “I give her exactly what she needs,” he growled. “For seventeen years I have given her a peaceful, safe existence. The kind of existence you know nothing about.”