Paranormal After Dark

by Rebecca Hamilton

  He obliged without a fuss. Odd. I shifted over to his right shoulder, tucking a wayward lock of silt-streaked hair behind my ear. I had occupied one of his hands, but the other one continued tracing absent patterns on the back of my jeans.

  “I’m sensing some hostility here.”

  “Really. What gives you that idea?” I made a point to dig the forceps in a bit so that he cringed. It made me feel better.

  “Let me guess. You’re sore about the policemen I hurt.”

  “No shit,” I said, no longer caring about being gentle with the wound. “You put our lives at risk just because you were having a temper tantrum. If I didn’t need you to contact Mulciber, I’d have let Michael jump rope with your small intestines.”

  “It wasn’t a temper tantrum. Some people drink to relieve tension. I just use violence as my outlet.”

  For a moment, I caught myself contemplating simply jabbing my finger in the bullet hole. No. That’d definitely make me a sadist. “You should really stop talking if you want me to get this out of you. I’m very tempted to leave it in.”

  “Is this the part where I say, ‘that’s what she said’? Ow!”

  He glowered at me. I ignored him, focusing on removing the slug instead of twisting it this time. There seemed to be a particular type of pain he liked, but this wasn’t it. Ha.

  “Your hubby wasn’t too thrilled about having to spring me,” Belial said, sounding more coherent as he sneered when he said “hubby.” Then again, his body processed medicine faster than the average human’s.

  “Naturally. But he still did it, so cut him some slack.”

  Belial snorted. “It is my eternal duty not to do so. That’s a battle you’ll just have to lose, Seer.”

  His words piqued my curiosity and some of my anger slid away. “Eternal? You two didn’t like each other even before the Fall?”

  He paused, seeming to consider my words. “Not necessarily. We were friends, actually.”

  “Really?”

  He smirked. “You may hate me, but I was quite popular back then. I believe John Milton mentioned something about ‘a fairer person lost not Heav’n.’ It wasn’t an exaggeration, you know.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Uh-huh. Hold still, I’ve almost got it.”

  “I sometimes wonder what would have happened if I hadn’t rebelled. Maybe he and I would be as chummy as he is with Gabriel.”

  Again, genuine surprise rolled through me. “So you do think about stuff like that?”

  He fixed me with his gaze. “You seem surprised.”

  “Of course I am. It never occurred to me that you could have regrets like a normal person. You’re so…you.”

  He chuckled. “Why thank you.”

  The bullet finally came free and I tossed it in the wastebasket. When I straightened up, Belial let the gauze fall and wrapped his arms around my waist, tugging me so close I had to prop my hands on his collarbone to keep from falling into his lap. I prayed Michael wouldn’t walk in to see this little stunt.

  “Let go. Just because you’re hopped up on painkillers doesn’t mean my personal space rule is void,” I said, though I could hear my voice waver.

  “Relax,” he murmured. “I need sexual energy to heal myself. It will only take a moment.”

  He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, as if inhaling the tension stretched between us. I kept still, trying not to feel the heat from his bare skin. I felt part of the long burn scar across his chest underneath my palm and it felt rough in contrast to the rest of him. The burn was relatively new, but there were plenty of other, older scars on his body. He had been right when he said we were both covered in them.

  The wounds on his biceps healed first, returning his arms to their sinewy perfection, and then the ones in his shoulders eventually closed up. He exhaled a blast of hot air against my throat. I waited for him to let go, but instead he leaned his forehead against my breastbone.

  “How poetic that you’re healing the very wounds you’ve inflicted upon me,” he said, his voice muffled by the fabric of my button up shirt.

  I couldn’t reply because his tone was unlike anything I’d ever heard before. He sounded so…human. There was an undercurrent of pain that I wasn’t sure could truly be faked, even by a master manipulator like him. It scared me and thrilled me at the same time.

  I shivered as he slipped his hands beneath my shirt, sliding his fingers over my hips, his fingertips finding the edges of the scars on my back. I licked my lips, forcing myself to raise my voice enough for him to hear.

  “Belial…are you in love with me?”

  He nudged the collar of my shirt aside, kissing the scar over my heart. “Don’t ask rhetorical questions, my pet.”

  I heard the door close and then leapt out of his grasp. Michael came around the corner, already frowning in suspicion as he spotted me standing next to the fully healed demon.

  “I take it we’re done here.”

  “In more ways than one,” Belial said, but he was staring at me when he spoke. I looked away, rubbing my arms, as he stood up.

  “I’ll clean up and then we can get going.”

  Michael frowned deeper as Belial disappeared into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. “I’m guessing I missed something.”

  I shook my head. “Nothing important. So where are we headed? Where’s the Garden?”

  “I’d rather not say while he’s around. We’re gonna have to fly under the radar, literally. Gabriel set us up to get smuggled across the Atlantic. We’ve got to go now. The pick up’s on the coast and we’re still a couple miles out.”

  “And I’m assuming Belial’s coming with us.”

  “He’ll land with us, but he’s not going any further. It’s forbidden, and for good reason. Demons cannot ever know where the Garden is. I’m sure he’d do his best to try to destroy it, or worse.”

  “What’s worse than destroying it?”

  “Leading other people to it. If normal people found out it was real, that we were real, it would mean total chaos. Society would break down overnight. There’d be witch-hunts. Wars. Genocide.”

  “Why haven’t the demons tried to expose you if that would be the end result?”

  “We’re still in a symbiotic relationship. They profit from us in some ways, so there would be no reason to kill their benefactors. Besides, there are some rules in place that demons can’t break, just like the contract we made with him.”

  “Wait. Wouldn’t Satan know where the Garden is? He’s been there before.”

  Michael shook his head. “Not necessarily. Think about how much time has passed. Back when Eden was first created, the geography of the earth was completely different. He’d have no idea where it is now. The Garden is also now underground, so it wouldn’t matter even if he told Belial the last location he knew about.”

  I sank onto the bed, pushing my hair out of my eyes. “Speaking of which, what happened back there? Why did Belial go Rambo on those cops? It couldn’t have just been for ‘stress relief.’”

  Michael stared. “You’re surprised that he likes killing people?”

  “No, of course not, but…” I paused, trying to figure out what I meant. “It seemed like he was getting better. Not good, mind you, just better. I haven’t seen him behave like that since the war in Jersey last year.”

  “It’s bloodlust. It’s not something you would ever be able to understand. That quality is inherent in every demon, especially archdemons. Belial is good at hiding his vicious nature when he wants to, but it’s always there. He’s incapable of changing.”

  I winced, and hoped Michael didn’t see me do it. He had been only seconds too late to hear my question to Belial and part of me wanted to tell him what had happened, but I knew it would only enrage him.

  The very thought of Belial being in love with me was beyond ludicrous. He had no heart and his soul was as black as a crow’s wing. But there were times when he looked at me, times when he smiled at me, times when he acted like a person and not
the murderous scum I hated over the years. Was it possible that somewhere amongst the filth inside him, there was a semblance of something good? He’d told me I was sin and savior. Did he have a bit of both in him too?

  “I don’t like that look,” Michael said. His expression had shifted from a frown to something much more somber.

  “What look?”

  “You’re hiding something.”

  “I’m not—”

  He shook his head once, a quick jerk. “Don’t insult me. I was married to you for a year. I know that look.”

  My throat tightened. “Was? Are you saying it’s off now?”

  He looked away. “No. But that’s a conversation for another time.”

  “And when is that? After the world’s come to an end?”

  He turned those unwavering sea-green eyes on me. “You were my world.”

  The bathroom door opened and Belial came out, drying his damp sable locks with a white towel. He glanced between the two of us, seeming confused.

  “Who died?”

  Michael ignored the question. “You all healed up?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Good.”

  I didn’t see Michael move—I only heard the crash of Belial’s body against the mirror on the far wall. It took me a second to realize Michael had punched him so hard and so fast that my human eyes couldn’t track the movement. My mouth fell open as he lunged for the demon, grabbing fistfuls of his bloodstained shirt and slamming him into the wall with enough force that it left a dent.

  Belial punched him twice in the solar plexus and the archangel’s grip loosened, allowing the demon time to kick him. Michael fell backwards and hit the nightstand by the bed, forcing me to hop onto the mattress to avoid getting grazed. He growled, picked up the broken piece of furniture, and hurled it at him.

  Belial ducked and it smashed to pieces against the wall. Michael used the extra seconds it took him to move out of the way for a vicious roundhouse kick that caught a glancing blow across Belial’s temple. He stumbled, but caught himself and then there was suddenly a switchblade in his hand. The sight of it snapped me out of my shocked state.

  I leapt down from the bed and withdrew my .38, clicking the hammer. “The next one of you to land a punch gets shot in the kneecap.”

  Both men froze, breathing hard, then stared at me.

  “You wouldn’t dare,” Belial said with a sneer.

  I pointed the muzzle at him. “Try me.”

  “I didn’t even start the fight.”

  “No, but you could have stopped it. Now you had both better calm the hell down or I swear I’ll shoot you and head for the Garden by myself.”

  “You saw what he did,” Michael said, his voice settled in a tone so dark it made my skin crawl. There was something feral in his eyes. He had slipped into warrior mode—a cold, calculating soldier that wanted nothing but justice. “He can’t be trusted. He needs to learn his place.”

  Belial snorted. “My place? It’s right where it’s always been. In your wife’s bed.”

  Michael took another menacing step forward. I switched targets. “Don’t.”

  “Why are you defending him?” he snarled.

  “I’m not, you idiot! We don’t have time for this. Yes, Belial should be punished for endangering us and hurting innocent people, but we can’t do it right now. After this mess is all over, you can rip each other to shreds. I won’t stop you. But until then, suck it up and stop letting him get to you.”

  Michael glared at me for another second or two, seeming to realize I was right, and then met the demon’s gaze. “When this is well and truly over, I will enjoy sending you back to Hell.”

  “And I will enjoy making you eat those words,” Belial replied, his smile laced with malice.

  Once I was sure they wouldn’t try anything funny, I shook my head and put my gun back where it belonged. “I swear, sometimes I think you two are perfect for each other. You’re both macho arrogant hotheads.”

  Belial made a rude noise in the back of his throat as he wiped fresh blood from his lip. “And what does it say about you that you’re attracted to both of us?”

  I opened the hotel door and glanced at them over my shoulder. “That I should become a lesbian.”

  Chapter 33

  Jordan

  “YOU DON’T HAVE to do this, you know.”

  “Yes, I do.”

  Michael gave me a long, intrusive stare, then sighed. “Fine. Five minutes.”

  “Okay.”

  “I mean it. Any longer and they’ll be able to trace it.”

  “Got it.”

  He stepped back and I slid the rusty, dingy door to the phone booth shut. There were barely any of these contraptions left in the States, but we’d gotten lucky outside of a gas station. I hadn’t used one in years. Never needed to until now.

  My fingers trembled as I pushed the change into the slot and dialed the number. Five minutes, Amador. Keep it short.

  The phone rang four times before someone picked up and my stomach plummeted into my feet. “Hello?”

  “Hey, Lauren.”

  Silence. Then, a pained whisper. “Jordan?”

  “Yeah.”

  I heard movement, then the sound of a door slamming. She’d probably gone into her bedroom, away from Lily. “What the hell is going on? I saw your picture in the news, for Christ’s sake! The cops have been by here twice asking if I have any information on your whereabouts. Do you know what I’ve been through these past couple days? How could you do something like this?”

  The lump in my throat made it hard to reply. “I know. I know, and I’m so sorry.”

  “You had damn well better be!” she yelled. “How many years have I been your friend? How many times have I stood by your side when you needed me? How could you lie to me like this?”

  She broke away from the phone, cursing in Korean. I waited until she stopped before speaking. “It’s complicated. More than you’ll ever know.”

  “I won’t ever know anything unless you tell me. Kidnapping a serial killer? Busting a felon out of police custody? Who are you? Tell me the truth.”

  “I can’t. I want to, but I can’t.”

  “Then why did you bother calling? To make me even more upset than I already am? Because it’s a phone call I could have lived without.”

  “I just…wanted to make sure you were safe. And tell you that I’m sorry for lying to you. You were right. I’ve been shielding you from the truth for years and it’s not fair. But if I make it out of this mess alive, I’ll tell you everything. I swear.”

  “Don’t do that. Don’t you dare say that to me. I don’t want the next phone call I get to be from a goddamn morgue. I don’t want some cop showing up at my place to tell me you’re dead. If you care about me at all, you’ll either tell me what’s going on or leave me the hell alone.”

  “I…”

  “You what?”

  “I love you, Lauren. And I’m sorry. If this is the last time I ever speak to you, then tell Lily I love her and I’ll miss her too.”

  A pause. Then, her voice, ice cold, said, “Goodbye, Jordan.”

  She hung up. I replaced the phone on the receiver. My throat was so tight I had to clear it several times before dialing the next number.

  A gruff voice answered on the first ring. “Hello?”

  “Lewis? It’s me.”

  “Jordan? Where the hell are you? What’s going on? You’ve been all over the local news for the past couple days.”

  “I can’t explain, okay? I just…wanted to tell you I’m alive. I felt I owed you that much.”

  “Is it Lamont? Did he frame you for the murder charges?”

  “No.”

  “Stop lying, girl. I may have only known you for a short time, but you ain’t a killer. I know there’s more to this situation than what you’re sayin.’ I been a liar for half my life and I can hear it in your voice.”

  “Lewis…”

  “Look, I know I can’t talk you out of wh
atever you’re doing, but you’ve got to know that you can’t keep heading down this path for long. You don’t want to know where it ends.”

  “I don’t have a choice.”

  “You always have a choice. And if you’re as much like your mother as I think, when the time comes you’ll make the right one.”

  A small disbelieving snort escaped me. “Why are you being so understanding? A normal father would be screaming at me to turn myself in.”

  “Normal fathers don’t have daughters who are wanted for murder. Giving you that kind of advice would be pretty useless. Besides, you’re stubborn. You wouldn’t listen to me anyway.”

  A couple of days and he already knew me that well. Maybe I was predictable. Just then, Michael rapped his knuckles on the glass.

  I took a deep breath. “I have to go now. I’m sorry. If I don’t see you again, I want you to know I’m sort of glad that I met you. Even if it almost got me killed.”

  “Don’t be sorry. Just come home in one piece, girl. Alright?”

  “I’ll try. Bye.”

  “Bye.” I hung up and walked away from the last part of my normal life.

  * * *

  AFTER AN EXHAUSTING twenty-three hours of travel, I found myself seated behind my silent husband as we paddled in a papyrus reed boat called a tankwa over the muddy waters of Lake Tana—the largest lake in Ethiopia and the source of the Blue Nile. We’d been smuggled on a plane from Miami to Addis Ababa, then drove from Addis Ababa to the city of Bahir Dar, home to the lake. While the air between Michael and I was strained, the scenery almost made up for it.

  The lake stretched for miles and the sun glanced off the water around us, making it shimmer. Flocks of great white Pelicans soared overhead, occasionally diving to catch fish. It was a hot, oppressive day, so there were a lot of animals gathered at the shores to cool off. Under normal circumstances, I’d be enjoying myself, maybe touring one of the twenty monasteries on the thirty-seven islands of the lake. One of them was even rumored to have housed the Ark of the Covenant. I absently wondered if Michael would be able to confirm or refute the legend.