Dearly Departed
Page 18
The heat is suffocating, and sweat runs down my body, causing my Academy uniform to stick to me as if I’d jumped in the shower with all my clothes on. I can feel my hair kinking up. So much for the great hair day I was having earlier.
“Holy shit,” Layla murmurs in awe. And terror. I have a healthy dose of both as well.
Large bat wings flap nearby, a swarm of them, and a moment later, we’re surrounded by Demons. The third years are covered in soot and dirt, with sweat sticking their hair to their foreheads. Could Demons even get hot in Hell? Heaven only knew—ignore the pun—that Dearly Departeds could. Sweat clings to my skin, my face, and my clothes, until I’m sure I’m a sopping wet mess.
Braxton breaks away from the Demons to stand in front of me, his eyes carefully and almost analytically tracing over my body. His brows furrow, lips pursing.
“You look different,” he comments harshly.
Of course, at that second, Aggie happens to fall through the portal. She wipes imaginary dust off her shoulders while giving my Demon a suggestive once-over.
“She’s glowing, isn’t she?” the old bitch purrs. I subtly shake my head, and Layla goes as far as to grab her arm, pulling her back. Of course, Aggie is oblivious. I honestly don’t think she’s intentionally malicious...just a little too far in right field, if you know what I mean. “Good sex can do that to you. I remember back in my day—” While she reminisces to Layla about her teenage years, Braxton glares down at me. Dozens of emotions flitter across his handsome face. Anger. Hurt. Jealousy. Pain. They appear and disappear in rapid succession before he settles on the easiest: anger.
I understand that. It’s easier to be angry than actually show any other emotion.
“You had sex? With who?” he whisper-shouts at me.
Despite the pain in his eyes, his words make my hackles rise. Who does he think he is?
“What the fuck is your problem?” I whisper back, wiping the sweat from my brow. “You don’t have any right to ask me that.”
Once more, his eyes flash with an emotion that he quickly tries to conceal. He grinds his jaw, teeth gnashing together. “Was it with my brothers?”
Does he mean all of them?
“Again, that’s none of your business,” I retort, trying to keep my voice low. Even while I say that, my hands scrub at my arms instinctively. Shit. If my words don’t give it away, my reaction will.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
Again, something crosses his face.
This time, I’m not sure I gauged it correctly. It almost appears to be...lust? But that’s impossible. I immediately dismiss it.
Why would the big, bad, sexy Demon get turned on by the thought of me with his brothers?
Dominic materializes beside us just as the final Dearly Departed falls through the ceiling. I can see the same awe and terror I feel reflected on the others’ faces.
“Today, we’re going to discuss a Demon’s job. Not only do they keep the unruly souls in line, but they also help corral the escaped souls and monsters,” Dominic begins as he walks in front of our group. Braxton stands beside me, his back rigid. Taut, like the strings on a violin. He doesn’t glance my way despite my repeated attempts to make eye contact.
So be it. If he wants to act like a big man baby, then I’ll treat him like one.
With a huff, I sidle up beside Layla and link my arm through hers. She glances at me in surprise before turning towards her Demon mentor. He’s a handsome man about my age with the customary black hair all Demons have, and his eyes sparkle like chips of obsidian. He nods at me in greeting before moving back to stand beside Braxton.
“Want me to kick his ass?” Layla leans in to whisper, casting inconspicuous glances at Braxton over her shoulder. Her pretty eyes narrow suddenly, hinting that they may have made awkward eye contact. Hearing my sweet friend threaten the asshole Demon is definitely the highlight of this field trip.
“Nah,” I whisper back. “I’ll just kick his ass instead.”
Or kiss it.
Dammit! Now I sound like Aggie. They should’ve never roomed us together to begin with.
“Take Hellhounds, for instance,” Dominic continues, cutting into our conversation. He prowls over a black stone bridge, head raised and handsome body adorned in a black suit and white cufflinks. He looks as if he should be giving a lecture in front of a class at some esteemed college for the elite, not prowling the roads of Hell. “Hellhounds are formed from the Hellfire deep within. There’s no rhyme or reason for their creation, only that they appear and wreak havoc on the material plane. Only one creature has the power to control them.”
“Lucifer?” a younger male, Josh, asks tentatively. Dominic’s lips press into a thin line.
“No.”
He doesn’t elaborate further, but I notice the Demons exchange anxious looks. Fucking Jake’s description of the Darkness comes back to me. Could that be what he was talking about?
I try to look over my shoulder at Braxton, try to meet his eyes, but he’s deep in conversation with Layla’s mentor, his eyes continuously scanning the shadows of Hell as if he expects a Hellhound to attack at any moment.
“And there are some creatures we don’t understand. They lurk in Hell’s bowels, waiting for a chance to climb to the surface,” Dominic says ominously. “That’s actually the job of third and fourth year students—hunting these creatures. Killing them. We don’t exactly understand where they’re from, and the Fates have been silent.” Once more, his teeth grind together. Layla, beside me, stiffens slightly, arms crossing over her chest and foot tapping.
A few things stick with me.
First, what the hell are these creatures? So terrifying that even Dominic looks shaken... And why would they have students hunt them instead of full-blown Demons?
Second, he spoke as if the word “Fates” was capitalized. As if it represented real people. It wasn’t the first time they were referred to that way. Are Fates real? I had thought them to be a metaphysical entity. An expression, perhaps, not people who actually existed.
My mind and stomach somersaults, attempting to wrap my head around all of this new information.
I pull Layla’s hand until we’re at the back of the group. Braxton glances at me, bemused, before quickly looking away. He walks a few paces in front of me, and a Demon girl says something to him. He flashes her a smile, a smile that he hasn’t given me since I arrived in Hell’s anus, and my heart thumps. Jealousy ricochets through me.
“You okay?” Layla asks softly, giving my arm a squeeze, as we follow Dominic through the mazes of Hell.
“Just trying to understand what Dominic said. Do you think it has something to do with the Darkness?” I lower my voice to a whisper, and I know Layla’s thinking of the conversation with Jake.
“I don’t know.” She gives me a sheepish smile. “I wasn’t really paying attention. Honestly, this Demon crap is so boring. I think I’m better suited to be a Reaper or an Angel.”
“I can see that.” I flash her a genuine smile. She was my first friend at the Academy and has quickly become my best. She won’t ever replace Ocean, but the bond we share is different. A bond forged from similar trauma and pain. A bond forged from death itself. “You’re kind and patient. Much kinder than me.”
She whacks my shoulder.
“That’s not true! And you have something going for you that I don’t.” At this, her expression turns sly.
“And what’s that?”
“Lots of cocks!”
If I was drinking, I would’ve spit it out everywhere in a comedic spit take.
“Damn, girl!” I sputter out. She giggles.
“It’s true! All the cocks, Had. Do you even know what to do with that many? Do you have enough holes?”
The Demon closest to us, a male, glances in our direction and turns away quickly before looking back once more. His salacious gaze travels from me to Layla and then back to me again.
If he says something about being one of my cocks…
&n
bsp; Fortunately, he remains silent. Good. I’m not in the mood to re-kill someone. And if the tightening of Braxton’s shoulders is any indication, he isn’t either.
We had just turned a bend in the hall...in the Hell hall? In the Hell tunnel hall?
Anyway, we had just turned the bend when a low growl reverberates from behind us. At first, I’m the only one who hears it. Dominic continues his lecture about the proper ways to kill a Hellhound while Layla moves to stand between her Demon mentor and Braxton. I see the way she’s eye-fucking her mentor. She may not be emotionally over her ex, but physically, my girl needs some loving.
Initially, I believe the sound is a natural part of Hell’s makeup. You know, scary growls, eternal pain, and all that shit. When it sounds again, directly behind me, I freeze, the hair on the back of my neck standing straight up and saluting the fucking world.
“Oh shit.”
I barely have time to scream before the monster pounces.
Chapter 25
Hadley
As the force of his body smacking against mine knocks me to the ground, I think about how I didn’t believe monsters existed. Not outside of movies and novels. Of course, I should’ve known the Afterlife would have them in droves.
These monsters are unlike anything I have ever seen before. They don’t have thick horns protruding from their foreheads, nor do they have vibrant red eyes. They’re not the stereotypical monster you would see crawling out from underneath your bed.
No, these are worse.
I remember studying human anatomy in high school my senior year. It was an advanced course I took online during one of the many times I was back in the hospital. I wanted to understand my body and why the fuck it was failing. During the lecture video, a diagram of human muscles popped up on the screen. My lips had curled with disgust, and I’d glanced towards Ocean who was sitting beside me, texting her newest boyfriend on her phone. We’d exchanged a long, dismayed look before breaking into laughter. It was so fucking disgusting.
The monster resembles that picture, only much larger than a normal human, looking as if his skin has been cut from his body. And don’t quote me on the gender, but I’m pretty sure there’s a flaccid dick dangling down between his grotesque legs. Red muscles striated with lines of light pink and white make up his body. Where his nose should be, there’s nothing but two gaping holes. Similarly, his eyes are absent as well, blood-soaked empty sockets in their place.
His teeth snap, leaking red drool from his rotten mouth, and his rancid breath washes over my face. As he crawls up my prone body, fear snakes down my spine. But I don’t move. Not even when I hear a startled scream followed by swords meeting flesh.
We’re being attacked.
“Hadley!” That’s Braxton. I’d recognize his voice anywhere. I can’t remember ever hearing such pain, such anguish, such grief. Which is ridiculous, of course. Of the four of them, I know him the least.
I wish I could see what’s happening. I wish I could see anything other than the monster’s terrifying smile. Blood and grit coat each fang, intermittently spaced in his mouth.
I’m going to die...again.
The realization washes over me like a frozen wave, seeping into my very bones. Surprisingly, it doesn’t scare me.
I’m not happy about it by any means, but I don’t cower. I quite literally look death in the face, a malicious smile tilting my lips.
No, I don’t have issues. Shut your face.
“Come at me, fucker,” I whisper, as the battle rages on around me. His face lowers, lowers, lowers…
Until a wet, sloppy tongue hits my cheek. The monster smiles crookedly at me even as his tongue continues to devour me like a damn ice cream cone.
What. The. Fuck?
A low moan reverberates through his bare chest. No, not a moan. A purr. And that thing between his legs that I thought was a penis? It fucking hardens.
Hardens.
Motherfucker. I’m going be assaulted by a skinless monster in Hell.
Not how I expected my Thursday to go.
His decayed hands creep up and rest on my shoulders as knobby fingers, whose nails are long gone, grip me.
Knobby fingers that are kneading the skin of my shoulders and neck, I might add.
Again. What. The. Fuck?
A second later, the body freezes, his face tightening. A guttural scream escapes his parted lips, even as his body falls to my side. Dead.
A sword is in his back.
Braxton, breathing heavily, stands above the monster. His lips are pulled back in a feral smile, his face speckled with blood. I quickly survey his body, ensuring with my own eyes that he’s okay, before assessing the rest of the Demons and Dearly Departeds. Fortunately, we had no losses on our side, though Layla’s Demon mentor is favoring his right arm, and a Dearly Departed is sobbing softly.
Dozens of monsters litter the floor, each one either decapitated or crumpled with a knife through their chests. Dominic stands near the front of the group looking bloody magnificent, if I do say so myself. His eyes are fierce, emanating a sort of inner darkness I can’t even begin to understand. Layla huddles behind him, her expression surprisingly serene despite the horrors we just endured.
“Are you okay?” Braxton asks desperately, kicking the monster out of the way before kneeling down next to me. His hands roam over my body. Not touching, but almost as if he needs some sort of confirmation I’m alive and well. Breathing.
Given his earlier attitude, I don’t want his fucking comfort right now. So I swat his hands away as if they’re pesky bugs.
“I’m fine,” I tell him with a huff, holding up my hands. “Help me up?” He does, his gentle touch belying the anger and tension lurking just beneath the surface. He’s a ticking time bomb, and I’m terrified of the inevitable explosion.
“Well…that was fun,” Dominic comments dryly, running a hand through his obsidian hair.
Aggie, who’s standing off to the side, peers slyly at me.
“Did you at least get some monster cock?” she inquires. Despite her crude words, a tremor races through her body, and her eyes trail over me just as intently as Braxton’s had moments before. She can put on a good front, an apathetic mask, but she was scared, scared for me. Her body noticeably deflates with relief when she sees me unscathed.
Braxton, however, doesn’t know Aggie like I do, and the Demon growls. Actually growls, the sound low, menacing, and so damn terrifying I get goosebumps on my arms.
Aggie takes an automatic step backwards, raising her hands like she’s fending off a dangerous criminal. Braxton advances, more beast than man. A prowling tiger not just out for the hunt, but for the kill.
“Brax,” I whisper, pulling at his arm. When he continues to stalk closer towards Aggie, I pull again, harder. “Braxton.”
He looks back at me over his shoulder, but I can’t quite read the expression on his face. It’s not his normal blank mask, but something else. Something deeper.
“We’re going to have to cut this field trip short,” Dominic says. He releases a heavy breath. “Come. Let’s head back to the portal.”
I go to join the rest of the class as they start to walk back to the portal when Braxton grabs my hand. Giving him a look of confusion, I stumble as he pulls me into a crevice embedded in the wall. The light from the ocean of fire just outside the opening lights up the small space. I lean my back against the wall, which is surprisingly cold given we’re in Hell.
“What the fuck, Braxton?” I ask, staring over his shoulder at the retreating backs of my classmates. Layla and Aggie both look around, obviously searching for me, but Braxton shifts, blocking them completely from view. His muscular arms are folded over his chest, which heaves with each breath. He’s not as bulky as Auston, but he’s more defined than Preston and even Karston. His black shirt pulled tantalizingly over his pectorals only accentuates that.
“Are you really okay?” he demands. “You sure you aren’t hurt?”
Something about his t
one pisses me off. One second he’s pissed because I slept with someone, which is none of his fucking business, and the next he’s acting concerned for my well-being? I can’t deal with the emotional whiplash.
“Why do you care?” I snarl, my hands fisted by my sides. “Why do you care who the fuck I sleep with? Why do you care so much about what happens to me? You barely know me!”
His eyes narrow into thin, piercing slits. I’m dressed in the Academy uniform, but I might as well be naked with the way he’s looking at me.
Like he sees me.
Sees the bruised and broken soul beneath the meticulously groomed exterior.
Sees the girl who accepted death with open arms because she was too tired of the pain.
Sees me...and likes it.
No, loves it.
“What do you want from me, Hadley?” he shouts, his patience obviously splintering like finely cracked ice. When the ice breaks, I’m immediately submerged in cold water. Drowning in his gaze.
“I want to understand, Brax. What was that monster? Why did it attack us? Why do you fucking look at me like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like you fucking love me, asshole! It doesn’t make any fucking sense—”
“What makes sense is that I’ve been in love with you for months!” he screams, his words raw as if they were ripped from his fucking heart. His confession douses the white-hot anger burning inside of me, and I press further into the wall. Numbness encases me immediately. But Braxton isn’t done, his voice rising until I’m sure everyone in Hell can hear it. “What the fuck was I supposed to do when I protected your human body from the monsters? You were so fucking brave and beautiful. How could I not have loved you? I can’t even blame my fucking brothers! We all watched you, Hadley! We all watched you and fell in love with you. What don’t you understand? And fuck…”
He begins to pace, pulling at the inky strands of his hair, his leathery wings stretching out behind him. I try to grasp on to the admissions he’s spewing at me, but my mind is spinning.