“Do you honestly think he hates you enough to keep you from reassuring his sister that you survived that night? Kellen isn’t that kind of man, Marcella. You know that as surely as you know you wanted to get a good freak on with him. Stop stalling, pansy, and get on it.”
Energy surged through her for the first time in three months, making her jump to her feet. It was true. Kellen would never refuse to send a message to Delaney for her. He might not like it, but he’d do it.
But it meant she had to see him again. Be near him. Smell his cologne. See his hazel eyes fall on her with the same old contempt. Pathetically long for his sculpted fantasticalness all over again while he gave her the evil eye. Being here, thinking she’d never see Kellen again had almost been a comfort. Knowing she just might be able to connect with him shook her up.
Darwin nudged her thigh with his back end. “C’mon. Hike up your big-girl panties, and let’s get ’er done. You’ve stared Satan in the eye. Kellen’s easy-cheesy compared to that.”
Snapping her fingers together under his nose, Marcella narrowed her gaze at him. “Shut it. I need to think.”
“About what? If you think too long, you’ll set this plane ablaze from one end to the other. You’ve done nothing but think for three months. Clearly you did a half-assed job in the thinking department to begin with. It wasn’t you who figured this out—it was me. I know you’re gaga over Kellen, but I also know nothing can ever come of it, and so do you. Get over your case of lust long enough to let your best friend know you’re well. All you have to do is show up, state your case, and bounce. Simple.”
Right.
She sagged to the ground again, leaning back against the tree, strangely deflated.
Fuck.
The zing she’d felt just moments ago petered out and died.
“Get up, Marcella. If not for anyone else, then for Delaney,” Darwin urged, but his voice, growly and low, grew distant and warbled.
She reached for the base of the tree with fingers that sought to anchor her body to it. The odd sensation that she was being dragged grew. Yet she remained immobile, still clinging to the tree.
Her stomach began to swell, rising with sweeping surges in an odd concoction of butterflies and anxious rumblings. Marcella put a hand to her head, rubbing to alleviate the light, airy feel to it. Forcing her limbs to move, she struggled to stand, shimmying against the trunk of the tree for support. But her legs were like soft butter, caving and twisting beneath her, refusing to acknowledge the signals her brain sent to them.
Closing her eyes, Marcella swallowed hard to diminish the nausea assaulting her, the kind of seasicklike nausea she’d experienced when she rode the Teacup ride at Disney World.
Then the sensation shifted so suddenly and so swiftly, she had to take a deep breath. It was like someone had turned her inside out, then outside in. Reaching behind her to find a tree that was no longer there, she teetered on unsteady legs.
Her eyes fluttered open for a mere moment, scanned her surroundings, then closed in disbelief.
A surprised gasp slipped from her lips.
And then another surprised gasp slipped from someone else’s lips.
Which totally made the surprise-gasping thing a declaration of symbolic unification in astonishment.
Marcella forced her eyes back open and found herself face-to-face with Kellen Markham.
Standing right in front of her, holding an old scarf she’d once lent to Delaney.
Under his nose.
Huh.
two
The scarf he’d been holding fluttered to the floor in a heap of designer hues of gold and blue. Kellen cocked his dark head in what Marcella would guess was a coupling of surprise and confusion.
Of course, due to the nature of their relationship, those emotions were almost instantly replaced with narrowed hazel eyes and sour lips.
Her lower lip warred with her over a good tremble. Kellen’s utter contempt for her wasn’t without merit. She’d never let either him or Delaney believe she deserved otherwise. She wasn’t going to start now.
All she had to do was have him take a message to Delaney, and that would be that.
Even if that was complete suckage.
Instead of looking him directly in the eye, Marcella scanned her surroundings. She was in Delaney’s bedroom, but it was different. Her king-size bed was gone—the one that bedded those creatures she was always saving—replaced by a queen, and her cramped closet was virtually empty. Kellen’s cats, Vern and Shirley, had chosen a sparse corner to curl up in together, undisturbed by her abrupt entry.
After giving the room a good once-over, she lifted her head.
Their eyes met again and held.
Formalities were in order. “So, what’s good?” she asked, like she’d just asked him about his well-being only yesterday.
“Good?”
“Yeah. You know, like wha’s up? What’s happenin’? What’s goin’ awn?” She made pistols of her fingers, shooting them at him.
“You’re kidding, right?”
“Say again?”
“I said, are you kidding me?”
“About?”
Kellen’s cheeks sank into his face with an inward suck of air. His anger was so flagrant, if she stuck her tongue out, she might taste it. Like the first falling snowflake of the season.
“You have some set, Marcella.”
She couldn’t resist. She looked down at her breasts, hovering enticingly over the top of her dress, then captured Kellen’s eyes with a sultry, knowing glance. “That’s what all the boys say.”
He didn’t even flinch. “Ever mouthy, I see. Three months didn’t change that.”
Marcella blew him a kiss with the pout of her red lips.
“So. Explain yourself.”
She’d bristle if his demand wasn’t so exquisitely hot it sent a ripple of pleasure straight to her passion parts. “What am I explaining?”
“You did not just pop in here after that vanishing act you pulled and ask me how it’s going like you haven’t been missing for three solid months.”
Her eyes swept over her very unghostly form. Well, it hadn’t been easy as popping went. But that sort of fit the bill. “Au contraire.”
Kellen’s disbelief was written in the thin set of his usually full lips and in the tight pull of his black sweater across his pecs when he squared his shoulders. “Where have you been?”
No way was she spilling where she’d ended up. If she knew anything, she knew Delaney and the kind of guilt only her BFF could work herself up over if she had even the tiniest of inkling about where Marcella had been these last months. Delaney was better off thinking she’d gone off to some exclusive spa to recuperate after their bitch slapfest with Lucifer. She looked down at her dress but said nothing. One of the hardest things for her as a demon had been lying. She’d never been deft at deception. Sometimes you said it best when you said nothing at all.
Cocky and Kellen became one when he crossed his arms over his wall of a chest and widened his stance. “Wait. Let me guess. You were so booked with social engagements in the afterlife that you couldn’t take the time out to let Delaney know you were safe, right?”
Out of the blue, eyeballing his clear disdain for her, a disdain she’d allowed, nay, cultivated for years, made her bone-weary. Suddenly and unmistakably, she was just plain whupped. They’d been at each other’s throats for a decade. If this was the last time she’d ever see him, the need to keep her cover wasn’t nearly as important as it had once been when she was earthbound, but it was crucial if he were to believe she’d just been selfishly off doing Marcella-like things. All the snipes she’d taken at him over the years were to keep him at arm’s length. Not only did it solidify Kellen’s hatred of demons, it kept her from ever having to worry that he’d succumb to her charms should a weak moment arise and she give in to the mad crush she’d had on him forever.
Knowing she should be angry at his assumption that she’d been doing nothing more t
han flitting from party to fucking party went without saying, but that required work. She was too tired to put much effort into arguing with him. It was a merry-go-round she didn’t feel like getting the pukes from riding.
Instead, Marcella scanned his hard-planed face in thought before running a hand down the skirt of her torn dress. Apathy was so totally not her thing, especially if she was called out, and Kellen was definitely calling.
But who knew how long she could sustain herself on this plane before she had to go back, and if she went back, what if she couldn’t return? For once in her forever-and-a-day-long life, she wasn’t going to be impulsive. Time management was prudent. Rather than cocking both barrels, she loaded just one with a curt, but evenly voiced reply. “Here’s the skinny. I don’t care a whole lot what you think about where, who, or what I’ve been doing since that night in Nebraska, Kellen. Just do me a favor. Tell Delaney if I could have come sooner, I would have. Nothing would have kept me from reassuring her I was okay.”
A dark eyebrow rose in skepticism. “Except something did.”
Oh, an assload of “somethings” did. “Yep.”
“And that’s all you have to say? After three months, that’s all you have to offer?”
Her nod was stiff. “Yeah. I think that covers it.”
Or not. “Where the hell have you been, Marcella, and how could you have waited this long to get word to Delaney? Jesus, she’s been sick about you, and you show up here after three solid months of worry like it’s no big deal.”
Hah. In the scheme of deals being big, getting here had to be bigger than the one made for the Brooklyn Bridge. But why waste the effort of explaining that to him? After ten years of beat-down after beat-down because she was a bottom-feeding demon, she was officially all outta piss and vinegar where Kellen and his demon scorn were concerned.
It dawned on her that Darwin was right. She was giving up. Or had she already? But was that such a bad thing? She’d fought the good fight for seventy-six years, and it had landed her on a plane with a bunch of souls who didn’t know where they wanted to spend eternity.
There were pluses to that. The king of evil was no longer a threat to her earthbound privileges. She didn’t have those anymore because she’d been dismissed from his army of ass lickers. He couldn’t take away what she didn’t have. She didn’t have to keep her goings-on on the down-low anymore, either. If the price of peace and quiet was a shitload of whiny souls on said plane while she rested up after her madcap demonicness, it was no big thang for her. She had no torturous choices to make like the others did. Thus she could soul-watch and kick back.
So now what she really wanted was to crawl back to her plane and be left alone. If her answer was anything less than passionate, so be it. “It’s like I said, Kellen. If I could have contacted her, I would have, okay? But despite the fact that it’s been longer than the allotted time you would dub suitable, I’m here now. Just tell her I’m fine. Everything’s fine. And that I love her, and hope that she and Clyde have one baby for every mutt she owns.”
The left corner of his mouth lifted with an almost smile. His hands, hands that had been clenched, relaxed. “She’s doing really great, you know.”
That thing in her chest Darwin had called shriveled jerky shifted, and she knew it wasn’t just because Delaney was faring well. The right corner of her mouth lifted, too. “There isn’t a single thing in this entire world that could make me happier than hearing D’s doing great. She deserves great. The greatest. And now I have to go.” She frowned. The trouble was, how did she go? When she’d been a demon, hopping from place to place was the matter of a snap of her fingers. Fuck. Ghosts had different protocol. And had she attended the “Don’t Find Yourself Stranded” class, she’d know exactly how to get back to her plane. A dramatic exit might be out.
“Hold the hell on. Why won’t you tell me where you’ve been, for Christ’s sake? She deserves to know. Despite that Uriel’s reassurances, Delaney’s spent three months worrying Lucifer had his way with you and you landed in the pit.”
“Pit” wasn’t an undeserving term to describe Plane Drab. “I’m not in the pit.” And who was Uriel?
“Then where are you?”
“Not in the pit, and that’s all you need to know.”
“Afraid you’ll reveal where the supersecret Bat Cave is?”
Because all the cool kids wanted to know. “Nope.”
Kellen moved closer toward her, past the box between them on the floor. The muscles in his thighs bunched through his stonewashed jeans with each step he took toward her, menacing and bomb-diggety hot. “Marcella, what the hell’s going on? You aren’t the woman I once knew. You were once fully capable of slinging zingers that were entire sentences whether your input was welcome or not. And you float,” he remarked. “I don’t ever remember you being able to float.”
Shit. “Just a little something I picked up while I was on sabbatical.” She pointed her toes in midair. “You like?”
Kellen cocked an eyebrow of disdain. “Lay it down, Marcella. Why haven’t you been around for three months?” His eyes narrowed with a gleam again. “Are you in hiding from that prick Satan?”
Taking a step back, Marcella heaved a sigh that whistled. “No. I’m not hiding.”
“Then why aren’t you popping in and out of here, annoying the shit out of me like you’ve done at least once a week for ten years? Why haven’t you gone to see Delaney and Clyde?”
She couldn’t help it. The question was out of her mouth before she could stop it. “Where is Delaney, and where’s all of her stuff—the creatures?”
This time he grinned, as rare when in her presence as the Hope Diamond. Marcella fought the zing of pleasure it brought her to cock an ear when he answered her question. “Long Island. She and Clyde bought a house and a backyard for the creatures—er, dogs.”
A tear stung her eye. That meant her best friend was finally getting her slice of Americana. Her deepest wish. A husband and a family. Good on D. Marcella’s head bowed to her chest to keep the glimmer of tears that welled in them from spilling, because seriously, her dress didn’t need any more catastrophes to befall it.
And she’d rather be thrown in the pit than let Kellen see her cry.
She swallowed hard before speaking, searching for a balance of nonchalant and carefree. “All her dreams come true, huh? The whole ‘you’re the footprints to the sand in my heart’ thing. That’s hard-core.” Pausing for a moment, a million questions on her tongue, Marcella bit them back. “Okay. So good, then. And now, I’m out. You give that crazy afterlife aficionado a big hug from me, and for the love of all that’s frizzy and unmanageable, tell her to condition that hair. See ya, Kellen.”
Closing her eyes, blocking out the man she’d wanted since the day she’d met him, Marcella willed herself to be gone, hoping it worked in similar fashion to her grand exits of demon days gone by.
Only it wasn’t exactly working out.
There was no allover body tingle, a one-time sure signal she was hoofing it on out of wherever it was she no longer wanted to be.
Scrunching her eyes tighter, she willed once more.
Nothing. Maybe she hadn’t given it enough time to work. Count. She’d count. It had never taken more than a minute twelve to get gone when she was in her earliest stages of demonicness.
One Mississippi, two Mississippi, three Mississippi . . .
Oh, come the fuck on.
A warm hand was at her upper arm, closing around it and gripping it with firm, lean fingers, the heat of them shooting thready zingers of warmth to her shoulder. “Where do you think you’re going, Marcella?”
Pier 1, silly. So I can get one last shop on. She let her eyes flutter open to gaze into his with cool regard. “Let go, Kellen. You’re breaking my concentration.”
“Nope. You’re not going anywhere until Delaney sees for herself that you’re just fine. And I swear to you, if you don’t make up a good story about where you’ve been that doesn’t l
eave her as pissed off as I am right now, I’ll hunt your ass down.”
A thought occurred to her just then. Looking down at Kellen’s fingers wrapped around her arm, she realized something. Something big. He could touch her . . .
Hold—the—phone. Delaney had never been able to physically touch the ghosts she’d communicated with. Not in all the time she and Marcella had been friends, anyway.
Leaning in, Kellen’s breath blew the stray strands of her dark hair by her ear. “Did you hear me, Marcella? If you hurt D any more than you already have, you’ll answer to me.”
Mmm-hmm. His overprotective statement on behalf of Delaney was so hot she almost purred her approval.
But again, don’t touch that dial. Didn’t Kellen realize the only person who could see her was him? Why would he, when he could touch her? Just as she suspected, he thought she was still demon.
Perfect.
“Let’s go, Marcella. I’m putting your ass in my car and we’re driving out to Delaney and Clyde’s.”
Fear twisted her intestines. No way was she letting the cat out of the bag. If Kellen didn’t realize she was no longer demon, she wasn’t giving it up. Delaney would only be more upset at the idea that she was doomed to roam a desolate plane of undecideds.
In order to keep up appearances, she had to summon up her inner demon. If she was the bitch she’d always been to Kellen, he’d never suspect.
Marcella yanked her arm from Kellen’s grip. “I have a hair appointment I can’t miss. Just pass the message on to D.” Stepping around him, she headed for the doorway, but he blocked her with his bulk. Bulk that smelled so good that if her nostrils had to withstand any more torture, they’d ignite.
“I’m not letting you leave.”
Honestly, now would be the perfect time for a fireball. Just a little one to let him know she meant business. No one was allowed to even consider “letting” her do jack shit. “Ask yourself something, Kellen. When was the last time anyone ever told me I was going to do anything other than what I wanted to do?”
His eyes grew dark.
“Exactly. Now move or I’ll move you myself.” She hoped just the threat of her old demon powers would deter him, because threats were the only thing filling up her menace account at this point in her spectral existence.
My Way to Hell Page 3
