by Brenda Huber
“I understand if that’s too personal of a question—”
“No, that’s not it. You see, time passes differently in Heaven than it does on Earth. It’s the same with Hell. A few minutes in Heaven can be hours on Earth. A few hours on Earth can be days in Hell.”
She weighed his words, rolling the concept around in her head for a while. Baffling. “What’s Heaven like?”
“Peaceful. Calm. Soothing.” He glanced at her. A tiny crease formed between his brows. And then, just as suddenly, his lips curved on that slow grin again, and his expression transformed. Her heart skipped a beat. “A lot like the way I feel when I’m with you. That is, when I’m not kissing you. That’s anything but calming,” he teased.
Ducking her head, she worked to contain the smile his comment provoked. It was a good thing twilight had finally caught up with them. The dim light helped her hide cheeks she was positive must be as red as an apple. But he wasn’t having any of it. He squeezed her hand gently, and gave her a shoulder bump until she finally looked up at him.
His grin made it difficult to concentrate on the conversation. Clearing her throat, she pressed, “Is that it? Calm? Peaceful and soothing? It’s calm in this meadow. It’s peaceful by that stream over there. The sounds of night all around us can be considered soothing. I want to know what Heaven is like, Niklas. Does everyone walk around with haloes, wings, and little golden harps? Is everything white? Are the streets paved with gold?”
His lips twitched. “It’s a different experience for everyone.”
She gave his hand an impatient squeeze.
Relenting, he drew her to a halt. He looked toward the stars as he seemed to search for the right words. “Heaven is subjective. What one cherishes in life, one often finds in Heaven. If family is vital to you here on earth, being reunited with lost loved ones is often a comforting reception. If sitting beside a calm lake, surrounded by nature’s beauty is soothing, then this is what you shall find. God is in all things. He is everywhere.” His fingers feathered through her hair, skimmed along the curve of her jaw. “But Heaven, tá’hiri, can be found in many places.” He turned to her. His thumb traced her bottom lip. His expression was solemn. His tone was pensive. “Sometimes you find it where you least expect.”
Disconcerted, Carly forced herself to look away as she took an unsteady step back.
His hand fell to his side. The loss of his touch was unnerving.
“Subjective,” he reiterated, allowing her the space she so suddenly needed. “But through it all, God’s love and grace are the ultimate reward.”
Nodding, she resumed walking. His hand found hers again and their fingers laced. It felt natural.
He spoke so easily of Heaven. And she could see how much he missed it. And yet, tonight there was a new emotion flitting through his gaze. Complex. Elemental. Though she struggled to isolate it and pick it apart until she understood it, her own emotions were just too tangled and volatile to sort through.
He’d slipped inside her defenses, getting closer to her than she’d allowed anyone since her uncle had passed away. She’d had boyfriends, but she’d never felt for them what she felt for Niklas. They’d never touched her, body or soul, the way Niklas had. With such longing. With such desperate need.
And everything Niklas had worked to accomplish and worried over and bled for—since before she’d been born—he’d done with the specific goal of returning to Heaven and God’s grace. He’d come so far from his fall, probably further than she could ever imagine.
What would it be like to have someone love her, cherish her with that depth of commitment? With that level of devotion? To have someone who would do anything, whatever it took, to never leave her side?
Suddenly she wanted to cry. She shouldn’t have come out with him. She needed to think, and she couldn’t do that with him so close, much less touching her. Disheartened, she tugged her hand from his and, ignoring the frown abruptly darkening his face, paced toward where the stream cut a path through the grove.
She didn’t get far. Niklas caught her wrist, urging her around to face him.
“What happened?” he asked. “Why did you pull away?”
“Nothing happened.” She tried to withdraw again, but he kept her wrist shackled.
“Do you know that when you lie, you get a little twinge in the corner of your eye?”
She huffed. Could she keep nothing from him?
He captured her chin in his free hand, forcing her to face him. “Something is troubling you, and I want to know what it is.”
She didn’t know where they came from, but tears suddenly welled in her eyes. She would lose him.
No, that wasn’t completely honest either. He’d never really been hers at all, had he? Sadness engulfed her. Raw. Hollowing. Almost as painful as the moment the doctor had checked Jason’s vitals, then turned to her and gently told her that her uncle was gone.
Alarm flared in his eyes. He looked so serious. So determined. As if he’d battle her demons, slay her dragons, if she but pointed him in the right direction. His reaction surprised her. Shaking her head, she tried to slip away once more, but he wouldn’t let her go. He searched her face for one long moment, and then cupped the back of her neck, holding her in place as he moved closer.
His lips settled over hers in a soft, coaxing caress. Light as air. Warm as the summer breeze. Achingly sweet. Carly let her hands slip upward, gliding over his shoulders, easing around his neck. She knew this was wrong, knew there could be no future between them. When this mess was over, Niklas would go on his way, and, eventually, he’d return to Heaven. She was only setting herself up for heartache. But she couldn’t resist, needing this moment between them.
It would have to last her a lifetime.
His kiss was tender. One meant to offer comfort. She could only pray he drew as much solace from her as he gave. He deliberately kept the contact light, and for that she was grateful. The wild abandon of earlier was beyond her realm of experience, overwhelming, and, as such, she still didn’t know what to make of the whole thing.
Niklas stiffened, abruptly tearing his lips from hers. Dazed, she stared up at him, still trapped in a skillfully spun web of sensation. His arms tightened. He peered around the grove, his expression fierce. His mood swiftly shifted from that of a would-be lover offering comfort to that of a predatory beast defending its territory.
He laid a finger against her lips—a universal demand for silence—and tugged her behind him, shielding her with his body. Still holding her wrist, he led her forward, not toward the house as she’d expected, but deeper into the heart of the woods. Silent. Stealthy. Following his lead, she carefully picked her way over twigs and rocks.
Niklas paused beside an ancient oak, its gnarled trunk broad enough to conceal them both. He motioned her to remain silent—and to stay put—before he dropped a brief kiss to her forehead and crept away. Carly watched in mute confusion as Niklas darted behind another tree some distance away. The shadows made it nearly impossible to see him now. A few moments later, four men approached.
Curiosity stirred, she held her breath and peeped around the edge of the tree. Masculine voices wafted to her on the wind.
“I tell you, I got as far as this stream, and I could go no farther,” the short, balding gnome of a man grunted.
“It’s all in yer bloody ’ead, ya bloomin’ fool,” the burly brute snarled. “Why in the name of Lucifer would there be ward stones way out ’ere where there be nothin’ to protect?”
Ward stones.
Not men. Demons!
What were they doing out here? Were these demons from the nest Niklas had told her about?
“There’s ward stones, I’m telling you, you great, dim-witted ass!” The gnome hopped to the side as the brute took an unsuccessful swing at him.
“Would you two knock it off? It’s bad enough I have to traipse out here in
the middle of no-freakin’-where. I’ll be damned if I’m gonna listen to you two squabble like a couple nrécnitgha’ta. I’d rather fry both your asses and go find something more interesting to do.” This from an average-looking Joe with short brown hair and pale, pale skin.
A tall, gangly man with long blond hair stepped between the gnome and the brute. He looked more like a rock star than kith and kin to the demons with him. A plasma ball materialized in the palm of his hand and hung suspended there, crackling and hissing, more effective than any possible verbal threat.
The gnome and the brute immediately backed down, bowing their heads deferentially. Joe snapped his mouth closed and, eyes slightly widened, took a hasty step back. The plasma ball dissolved, and the rock star lowered his hand to his side.
“Where?”
He was attractive—almost as attractive as Niklas. Almost. But his demeanor reeked of vicious brutality, and his voice—
Frost came to mind. A hard, killing frost.
“Here.” The gnome pointed. “Just over the stream by that oak yonder.”
Carly tensed. Surely not.
Through the shadows, she saw Niklas lean forward menacingly. His hand lifted, and he held a finger to his lips, motioning her to be silent.
Great. The oak she was hiding behind. Didn’t that just figure?
Pressing her spine against the rough bark, Carly gauged the distance to the barn. Up the hill and over hundreds of yards of wide-open meadow. Too far. She’d never make it, certainly not undetected. Twigs snapped. Water sloshed.
“I feel it,” Average Joe said. “It’s getting difficult to move beyond the stream. What the hell is this?”
Rustling, scratching. A sharply indrawn breath. A muted curse.
“See. Ward stones, just as I said,” Gnome gloated.
“That’s not all.” Average Joe called. “Can’t you feel it? Chrysoberyl and jasper, brecciated jasper. You can feel them too, can’t you? That stuff makes my skin crawl.”
“I can feel them,” the gnome confirmed. “But they weren’t there before.”
Movement from the far edge of her peripheral vision snared her attention. What was Niklas doing?
Oh, no! No, he couldn’t be considering—
With a startling yell, he sprang from behind a tree, plasma ball pulsing in the palm of his hand. Niklas hurled the plasma ball at the gnome, striking before the intruders had time to react. He instantly burst into a fiery ball of ash. Launching a second plasma ball, Niklas dove for cover. He missed the tall, blond demon by less than a foot. The remaining three demons vanished, only to reappear in different locations. Plasma balls hurtled through the night like comet tails, streaking this way and that. Exploding. Splintering trees like toothpicks.
Nearly paralyzed with fear, Carly crouched down, searching desperately for Niklas. She could barely breathe for the fear crowding through her. Three against one. He’d gone up against worse odds than this. But that didn’t reassure her. All it would take was one lucky shot.
And something about that blond demon made her incredibly nervous.
She caught sight of Niklas crouching behind a maple, just the outline of him. A plasma ball exploded close to him, so close the sleeve of his shirt ignited. She gasped, blinked, and he was gone. No, no, there he was on the other side of the stream. The side with no ward stones. He limped, staggered, stumbled behind a tree. Her heart lurched, dropping to her boots. He’d been hit.
Oh, oh God, no.
The brute followed, as did Average Joe. The rock star reappeared, vanished, reappeared, popping in here, firing, popping out, popping in there, firing, popping out. Carly twisted this way and that, struggling desperately to keep a visual on all of them. Frantic, she gripped her hands together and prayed as she’d never prayed before.
Please, God, please don’t let Niklas get hurt. I know you’re not real happy with him right now. Haven’t been happy with him for a while, in fact. But he’s trying so hard. Let him live, God. Let him have his second chance. Please, God, please.
The demons closed in on Niklas from different sides, plasma balls palmed and ready to release. Niklas popped—shimmered, he shimmered—behind the brute. A moment later, the brute went down in flames and ash.
The crackle of a twig directly in front of Carly snapped her head around and up. Average Joe blinked down at her, his eyes wide with surprise. A sinister grin slowly knifed across his face. Panic, horror congealed in her gut. For a split second, she couldn’t move, couldn’t utter a sound. And then Joe reached for her. Terror gurgled in the back of her throat.
Joe’s fingers were within inches of Carly’s arm when he suddenly drew back with a hiss, as if she were made of fire and he’d singed his fingers. He glowered down at her and at the bracelet she wore.
The guard stones are working.
Niklas shimmered behind Joe and wrapped an arm around his forehead. In that same instant, he slashed a wicked-looking blade across Joe’s throat, so deep, so forcefully he completely severed Joe’s head from his body. Carly flinched, her eyes scrunching closed as she whipped her head to the side. Hot demon blood splashed over her, splattering her face and neck, drenching through her shirt.
Gagging, Carly dragged her forearm over her face.
By the time she opened her eyes again, Joe’s body was nothing more than a smoldering pile of ash at Niklas’s feet. Niklas stepped closer to her, his clothing singed and splattered with demon blood. He held his hand out to her. Trembling, she placed her hand in his.
Niklas drew her to her feet and pulled her against him, tucking her under his arm. He turned warily, scanning the area. The night had gone unnaturally silent around them. As if waiting. Waiting for the next wave of violence to strike.
“Where—”
“Shhh,” he cautioned.
The crackle and hiss of a plasma ball was all the warning they had. Niklas took her down with him as he dove to the ground. He rolled at the last moment, cushioning her fall with his body. He kept rolling, shielding her. Another crackle, hiss. He jerked, arching against her. Panting, he wrapped his body around her and kept rolling until they’d reached another large tree. Pushing to his feet, grimacing in pain, Niklas kept her pinned between his broad, wounded back and the tree.
“Gusion,” he hissed.
The rock star, she surmised. Carly peeked over his shoulder, careful not to touch the raw blisters and newly charred flesh of his back. The blond demon stepped out from behind tree cover. Out into the wide open. Smug. Arrogant. He balanced a sizzling plasma ball in each hand. His stance challenged Niklas.
“So this is where you’ve been hiding, Seer.” His focus strayed over Niklas’s shoulder, and he leered at Carly. “Can’t say as I blame you. I think I’d go to ground for a while too, if I had a piece of tail like that.”
Niklas’s muscles tightened beneath her hands. He said something in that dark, layered voice. Guttural sounds she couldn’t identify. A plasma ball erupted in his hand.
“Aw, now, no need to be nasty,” Gusion said. “I take it that means you don’t want to share.”
Niklas hurled the plasma ball at the blond demon, but Gusion nimbly shimmered a few steps to the side. He hurled his own plasma ball. Niklas flicked a plasma ball up, and the two collided in midair, raining sparks and embers down like fireworks. An impasse.
Gusion eyed the ground speculatively. He took a step forward, and then another. And another. And then he froze, a pained, sickened expression twisting his handsome features. Taking a hasty step backward, he snarled, scowling at the ground.
“You can’t hide behind ward stones forever, Seer.” His scowl morphed into a smile. A terrible smile that sent chills darting though Carly’s bloodstream. “That’s all right. I can wait.” His gaze drifted to Carly again. He licked his lips, making Carly’s skin crawl. “After all, they say anticipation is half the fun.”
Chap
ter Thirteen
Niklas waited several moments longer, every cell in his body trained on the area around him, sifting and searching, until he was certain Gusion was truly gone. The other demon might not be able to cross the ward stones, but a plasma ball could. Carly’s fear was a tangible thing, sitting hard and cold in the pit of his stomach. Niklas turned, lifting a hand to Carly, beseeching. Needing the contact as much for himself as for her. Some of those plasma balls had exploded so close to her, he’d thought his heart might leap from his chest.
Carly launched herself into his arms, trembling, burying her face against his neck. She wrapped herself tight around him. Sobs wracked her small body. He ran his hands up and down her back. She felt so right pressed against him, seeking comfort and protection.
“I was so scared they’d hurt you, Niklas.” An anguished sob tore from her throat.
She’d been afraid. For him.
A strange stillness slipped through him.
Touched beyond words, he cradled her to him. His precious, brave tá’hiri. He smoothed a hand over her hair, down her back. Her hair was damp with demon blood. Her clothing. Her skin. Violence had touched her, and he couldn’t stand it.
For a moment, he wavered. He’d been so certain, sitting there beside the mangled remains of the ancient tractor, that this—they—were meant to be. He’d convinced himself that maybe he’d earned her. That God had seen fit to give him this small bit of Heaven. A reward for his steadfast devotion.
But even now, that tainted voice—the darkest part of his soul—laughed at him. His crimes were too heinous for him to ever believe he’d be forgiven. He’d earned nothing. He deserved nothing. Not absolution. Not a reprieve from his eternal punishment. Certainly not a reward as precious as Carly. He’d been wrong to think he could keep her. He slid his hands to her shoulders, gripped her upper arms, preparing himself to push her away. Just the idea, though, caused a physical pain deep in his chest.
Clinging tightly to him, she whispered, “I don’t know what I would have done if I’d lost you.”
