“Who the hell are you?” I asked. I should’ve known when she sold me that bracelet that she wasn’t just a sales lady.
“My name is Gemma. I’m a Celestial.”
“What’s a Celestial?” Heven asked, her curiosity showing itself again. Although, in her defense, in the past few months her entire world had exploded with hellhounds, angels, demons, Supernatural Maps and Treasures, and now this.
In a gesture so familiar to me, Gemma’s eyes swept the trees and areas surrounding us. “A Celestial is a class of Outsiders who are wholly good. We represent the forces of armed justice; we are those who seek out to destroy evil and maintain balance in the world.”
“What are Outsiders?” I asked.
Gemma shrugged. “Those of us who are not wholly human. Angels would be one type of a Celestial.”
“Like Airis?”
Gemma didn’t really react to the mention of Airis, but I sensed one. “Yes, Airis is an angel.”
“You don’t like her,” Heven stated, clearly picking up on the same thing I had.
Gemma’s gray eyes widened. “I didn’t say that.”
“You aren’t denying it,” she retorted.
“You’re very perceptive,” Gemma murmured. She looked at Heven with approval. “Can you see my aura?”
“No.”
“Can you see Airis’s?”
“No. Are you an angel too?”
“Sort of.”
“What does that mean?” I asked.
“I’m a fallen angel.”
Beside me, Heven frowned. “Aren’t fallen angels bad?”
Gemma said that Celestials were wholly good.
“Depends on who you ask.” Gemma’s teeth flashed.
“Wrong answer,” I growled. I didn’t trust her. At. All.
“Relax,” Gemma said with an eye roll. She glanced at Heven. “Hellhounds can never take a joke.”
That caught my attention. Heven gasped. “You know other hellhounds?”
“I’ve known a few.” Something shifted behind her eyes. She covered it by saying, “Fallen angels are angels, who for their reasons, have been cast out of Heaven, usually for a sin of some kind. Some fallen angels are sent here to Earth because we aren’t really bad, but we can no longer reside in Heaven. Most of us spend our time doing what I said, acting as armed justice to seek out and destroy evil.”
I wanted to scoff at the lame description. Heven seemed impressed though.
“So you’re a warrior angel?”
Gemma’s eyes widened again and she looked at me. “We’ve got a smart one here.”
“I know,” I said, wishing Heven would just be quiet. But then I felt myself asking, “So you’re here to help us fight off the demons that keep coming to kill Heven?”
“How did you know they were demons?” Gemma asked.
“I’m a hellhound. I know spawn of Hell when I see it.” I was offended she asked. Heven patted my arm.
“I can see why Airis chose you both. You make a surprisingly strong pair.”
“And you’re here…?” I asked again, annoyed.
“I’m here to make you stronger. I’m going to teach you how to fight.”
I barked a laugh. “Seriously? I think I have that part covered.”
Without any indication or reaction, Gemma struck out. I felt her coming before she even moved and I leapt in front of Heven just as Gemma reached us, and I spun her kick away. Gemma fell back with my hit and then regained her feet to charge again. I was ready time after time, hit after hit. She wasn’t getting the best of me. I wasn’t going to show weakness. I was already pissed off over the demon in the lake, and I was more than happy to take it out on her. Gemma must have sensed the willing fight she was meeting because she stopped suddenly and unsheathed the sword that was strapped to her back. I crouched as my body began to shake. I felt a rush of adrenaline and my skin began to hum. The hound was ready to go and I was going to let it out.
Out of the blue, Gemma dropped her sword and pulled something out of the pouch that hung around her waist. She lifted the lid to the metal box now clutched in her hand and something unseen slammed into me. I felt it wrap around me like Saran Wrap. It molded against my body and tightened. I arched my back in pain—caught between the hound and the human, it was all I could do to stay on my feet. This bitch was crazy and whatever she was doing to me was no joke. I wasn’t going to show the weakness I felt or the sudden panic about not being able to do what my body was built to do.
The pain went on as the invisible force wrapped tighter around me. I felt my knees buckle and I swore. My skin prickled with sweat and it began to run down my back and temples.
Fight. You have to fight.
“Stop! You’re hurting him!” Heven cried and ran at Gemma.
A half-growl, half-shout ripped from my throat as I pushed myself to my feet. I swayed slightly, but found my balance to rush forward and put myself in between Heven and this woman. Gemma struck out with her foot, hitting me firmly in my chest. I fell backwards, slamming into the ground hard, but I barely felt it. I was up and running at her again in seconds, only to be hit again. This was a pattern that I didn’t care to repeat a hundred times. I felt exhausted, weak, and trapped and my panic was rising. Whatever was happening wasn’t natural.
Heven took off again and made it to Gemma’s side, reaching down to pick up her sword.
Gemma arched a single eyebrow at me. I was already calling forth the strength I would need to launch myself in between them again.
Heven, get away from her.
“Lose the box,” Heven threatened Gemma, not even looking at me.
That sword was probably a lot heavier than it looked and I wondered if Heven had the strength to swing it.
I couldn’t take that chance. With a final burst of speed and adrenaline, I rushed Gemma. Take the sword and head toward the truck, Heven! Now!
Gemma held up her hands in surrender. Heven, who once again did not listen to me, reached out and grabbed the box from her hands. Gemma said nothing as Heven slammed the lid closed and tossed the thing into the trees.
Relief surged through me and I was suddenly unbound. My body seemed to swell within seconds and I felt the hound in me roar—a sound that I liked. The next thing I knew, I was completely shifted and completely willing to murder.
Get back. I told Heven. So help me if she didn’t listen this time…
She listened and ran backward, putting some distance between us.
I took Gemma down and we rolled across the grass. She was pinned beneath me when I raised my lethal, sharp claws above her.
“I think I proved my point,” Gemma said, gasping for breath. “Get off me.”
I paused.
“If you kill me you’ll never know what just happened.”
Damn. She had a point. I hated that she had a point.
Don’t hurt her, Sam, Heven pleaded.
I shoved off her and growled. She stayed down on the ground as I prowled toward the truck, never once giving Gemma a backward glance. When I reached the truck, Heven was there, holding out a pair of shorts. I took them in my mouth and went behind the truck. Moments later, dressed hastily, I came around to see Gemma coming out of the woods, tucking that box back into the pouch at her waist.
She tensed a little when she saw us walking toward her. “How pissed are you still?” she asked me, her hand hovering over her belt where there was a dagger.
“Seriously?” Heven exclaimed. “You approach us; you claim to want to help us. Then you do something to Sam and now you’re reaching for another weapon? I don’t think we want your help. Thanks.” She turned to walk away.
I was proud of her.
“I’m not the only one with one of these. Don’t you think that he needs to know how to fight when being blocked from shifting?”
Damn.
Heven stopped and turned. “No more games.”
“I was only trying to show you,” Gemma began.
Heven cut her off to say, “No. More.
Games.”
“Tougher than you look,” Gemma admired.
“You might have that thing strapped to you right now, but if you piss me off again you won’t even be able to reach for that thing the next time you need it.”
“Agreed,” Gemma said and she stuck out her hand.
Heven stepped out to take it and I caught her arm and towed her back. Heven wasn’t making any deals. Especially with people I wasn’t sure I could trust. With Gemma’s hand suspended, I glanced at it and back to her.
“I’m not agreeing to anything until you tell me what the hell you just did.”
“As a hellhound you have very few weaknesses,” Gemma began and I snorted.
“We don’t have any.”
Gemma lifted an eyebrow. “You can say that after what just happened?”
Well, damn. Wasn’t that like a bucket of cold water dumped over my head? I hated to admit it (and I probably wouldn’t out loud), but she had a point.
“Just cut to the chase,” I said suddenly, feeling weary. This day was only half over and yet it felt like it had dragged on for an eternity.
“Before hellhounds were cast out of Hell, Satan tried a few ways to control them. He went to Hecate, Queen of Witches, and asked her to create three amulets to bind their powers, making it harder for them to fight. As you just experienced, a hound is more vulnerable when it is trying to shift and cannot. You are very strong and have much fighting ability in your hellhound form but not as much as in your human form. I am sure that whenever a demon attacks you always shift to defeat him. Is that right?”
“Yeah.”
“Except for that day in the ice cream shop,” Heven reminded me. “When Cole was there.”
“Who is Cole?” Gemma asked.
“A friend of ours. He walked in one day when a demon was attacking me,” Heven answered.
Gemma nodded. “Does he know, then?”
“No,” I said, finality ringing in my ears. I did not want Cole involved in Heven’s life any more than necessary. I didn’t want him around; then I wouldn’t feel like I had to protect him too when he did something stupid and tried to play hero. I might not like him, but Heven would be crushed if something happened to the guy, and I didn’t want her to get hurt. I really wished I knew what the heck she saw in him.
“I’ve been avoiding him,” Heven said, and a wave of guilt came over me. I already knew she felt guilty about avoiding Cole, so I did my best to ignore it and not let her feelings get to me.
Gemma nodded and backed up to a tree and slid down until she was sitting, half-leaning against the trunk. Heven seemed grateful and sank down into the grass too, tucking her legs beneath her.
I did a scan of Heven’s features. She was still pale and her lips still didn’t have enough color in them for my liking. My throat still held an echo of pain, so I knew hers had to be hurting. We needed to get this conversation over with because she needed to get home to rest. I sat down next to her, our knees bumping together. She smiled at me and I ran my hand down her back.
“Hecate created three amulets that would keep a hound from shifting, keeping him vulnerable so he can be hurt or killed.”
Gemma’s words caused panic to well up in Heven’s chest; I felt it like it was my own.
No one’s going to kill me, Heven.
“Where are these amulets?” Heven asked, obviously doubting my statement. “Can we get them?”
Gemma shrugged. “I’m not sure where the other two are. Probably still in Hell.”
“How’d you get one?” I asked her, curious.
“I killed the guy who had it.” Once more something shifted behind her eyes, but I let it go. Her past wasn’t relevant to this conversation. Yet.
“Is that what we would have to do to get the other ones?” Heven asked.
“Probably. But since you’re a little busy to be off hunting down amulets, I think it’s a better idea that you learn how to fight and defend yourself better in human form.” Gemma looked at me as she spoke.
“I fended you off, didn’t I?” I lifted an eyebrow.
“We were well matched.” Gemma allowed and I scoffed. “But we both know that eventually I would have worn you down. And the minute I opened the box with the amulet inside it, you weakened because your body was trying to shift and it couldn’t.”
She kept having to bring up that damn box didn’t she—reminding me of my weakness.
“What would happen to her,” Gemma said, hitching her chin at Heven, “if you had been taken down or out?”
Inwardly, I groaned. Point taken. Now wasn’t the time to be full of myself. Gemma knew exactly which buttons to push.
“All right, I’ll train with you.
Gemma nodded once. “We’ll start tomorrow.”
“Where do you want me to meet you?”
She thought a moment. “How about at the farm?”
“My Gran’s house?” Heven asked, surprised that Gemma knew of the place. I wasn’t surprised at all. If she had been around since she sold me Heven’s bracelet, then she had been watching us. She knew a lot—probably more than we even did.
“Sure, there’s a lot of land there. How about in the woods off the trail where Heven rides Jasper? There’s a clearing a little way in.”
“I know the place,” I agreed. “I’ll meet you there tomorrow before I go to work, but after I do the chores around the farm.”
Heven frowned, but she didn’t say anything. Gemma pushed away from the tree, standing up, clearly ready to end our meeting. I stood up too, equally ready to get out of here. Automatically, I scanned the woods and then looked back over the lake, looking for any strange movements in the water. Everything seemed fine.
For now.
“Wait,” I said, wanting the answer to one more question. “You knew who I was back then, who Heven was. You knew that the bracelet had the key to open the scroll.”
Gemma waited for me to continue.
“Why didn’t you just give it to me? Why didn’t you tell me all this then?”
“Would you have believed me?” She didn’t wait for him to answer before saying, “You know you wouldn’t have. You had to learn about this for yourselves. Besides, I wasn’t sure you’d manage to stay alive this long.” She shrugged and began walking away only to turn back and look at me. “Besides, the fact that you paid for the bracelet really makes it a gift.”
We both watched as she took a few more steps before disappearing completely from sight.
Chapter Seven
Heven
There was one good thing to come out of almost drowning: time alone with Sam. The day was only half over when we left the lake and our meeting with Gemma behind. The undercurrents in the truck were heavy as we were both still pretty shaken up from my near-death experience and from meeting a fallen warrior angel. I wasn’t sure how I felt about all of it. Finding out there were three amulets out there that someone could use against Sam was terrifying. The thought of anyone hurting him made me crazy. Then there was Gemma herself. She was gorgeous and strong, and I couldn’t help but be drawn to her. I was curious about her, her past, and the shadows that sometimes seemed to pass behind her eyes. I found myself actually hoping she wasn’t crazy and that we might become friends. When Sam turned onto the dirt road that led to Gran’s, I glanced over at him. He appeared calm, his face smooth and a pair of sunglasses shading his eyes. But I knew that he was still upset about earlier—I could feel it. I ran my thumb over the knuckles of his hand that I was holding and he glanced at me, giving my hand a light squeeze.
When he parked the truck in his usual spot beneath a large tree, I turned to him. “Can you come in before you go to work? I’ll make you a sandwich.”
He nodded, and instead of releasing my hand, he got out and pulled me along with him, lifting me out of the driver’s side door. Inside, Gran was nowhere to be seen and I was glad because I knew that I wasn’t looking my best. I left Sam in the kitchen to race upstairs and survey the damage. The worst thing wa
s my hair. It was half dry, frizzing and hanging in scraggly clumps. I grabbed a comb, some leave-in conditioner and got to work. As I combed, I studied the rest of me: my skin was paler than usual, my lips colorless, but otherwise I looked normal. Finished with the comb, I pulled my hair back into a short ponytail and hurried to throw on a pair of jean shorts and a white tank, and then feeling a little chilly, I grabbed a light sweater and threw that on over my tank. Before going back downstairs, I swept on a little pink lip balm, hoping to infuse my face with some much needed color.
Sam was still in the kitchen, staring out the window. When I entered the room, he turned, his hazel eyes sweeping me from head to toe. He said nothing, but pulled me into his arms and held me tightly before releasing me to sit at the table, positioning himself near the door and the window. He wasn’t as carefree as this morning. In fact, this morning seemed eons ago.
I went to the fridge and pulled out the makings for roast beef sammies, noting the package of ground beef and package of hotdogs chilling in the fridge. Looks like Gran planned to grill out tonight. I made a mental note to make up a few plates to take to Sam at work and to Logan at home. Then I had a thought. “Sam? Would it be okay if I went and got Logan while you were at work this evening? We’re cooking out and he could have dinner with me and Gran.”
Sam glanced at me from the window, his eyes turned to liquid honey, mesmerizing me. “You would do that?” He didn’t seem surprised but… touched.
“Of course. I don’t like to think of Logan alone so much.” If he had as many mixed-up feelings as I figured, being alone all the time wouldn’t help. Besides, being around Gran would be good for him and maybe he and I could start getting along better, i.e. he wouldn’t make me so uncomfortable all the time.
“Thank you,” he said, getting up and coming over to where I was slapping some mayo on bread. “But I’m not going to work tonight.” He grabbed up a slice of roast beef and shoved the whole thing in his mouth.
“You’re not?” I stared at him as he chewed. “I thought you had a shift at the gym?”
“I called in sick while you were upstairs.”
“Are you not feeling well?” I dropped the knife and turned, placing my hands on his face and forehead. “This is all Gemma and that stupid amulet’s fault.”
Charade (Heven and Hell #2) Page 10
