Tirade

by Cambria Hebert

  I looked at Heven for an explanation as to why this guy would have a key to my apartment. She glanced at the floor. “I let him stay here when he got to town.”

  Well, I guess that was better than at her house every night.

  I was surprised when Logan came to her defense. “Heven went and found him so he could help get you back. She’s been working so hard to bring you home.”

  Heven shifted, pulling the sheet tighter around her body.

  “Clearly, you’ve been very busy,” Riley drawled, his eyes sweeping Heven as she moved.

  “Get out,” I snapped moving to block Heven from view.

  “No,” Heven said quietly. “I was just going to take a shower and Logan and Riley brought food.” She glared at Riley before moving toward the bathroom. Riley grinned and popped one of the lids of a coffee and took a sip.

  “Don’t you want your coffee? It’s hot,” he called as Heven moved away.

  She did want it. I could tell by her slight hesitation so I went and grabbed it. “Wrong one,” Riley said, amused.

  I took a deep breath and set the coffee down and grabbed the last one. I told myself not to give him an opening. I told myself to keep my mouth shut. I said it anyway. “You know how she drinks her coffee?”

  “We’ve had a few mornings together,” Riley quipped.

  And there it was.

  My invitation to nail him.

  I barely managed to set the coffee down before leaping across the counter and taking Riley down. He knew I wouldn’t want him here. He knew I wouldn’t want him as much as fifty feet near Heven or my brother. Riley wasn’t here to help. He had an agenda.

  I got in a few good hits and I enjoyed the way his head bounced when I punched him.

  “Sam, stop,” someone behind me said, but I ignored them and went for another hit.

  “Heven!” Logan cried and Riley and I both stopped and turned. Heven was bracing herself against the back of the couch. Her face was pale and her breathing was shallow. The sheet had slipped off one shoulder to reveal a new red welt.

  Logan looked at me with a helpless look on his face as I went to her side. “No more fighting,” she said. “It… it excites it.”

  “Heven?” Logan said. “What’s wrong?”

  I swore, feeling like a complete ass.

  “What’s going on?” Riley asked.

  Heven straightened and banked all the pain out of her eyes to look at my brother. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.” Then she turned her attention to Riley. “You owe Sam an apology,” she snapped. “You were way out of line.”

  I blinked. “Calm down. Don’t get all worked up.”

  “That’s not how you treat your friends.” She continued, pinning Riley with a stare.

  “I don’t have friends,” Riley said without heat.

  “Then what the hell are you doing here?” she yelled. “You brought us coffee and breakfast because you hate us? Get real.”

  “Calm down, Hev,” I told her again, pulling the sheet up to cover her newest mark. She winced in pain.

  “I’m going to take a shower,” she said and went to the bathroom. I followed, afraid she might collapse. In the doorway, she turned to look at Riley. “Thanks for bringing Logan and breakfast by. You can leave. Now.”

  Then she slammed the bathroom door.

  When she looked at me, I straightened and pushed a hand through my hair. “I shouldn’t have let him get under my skin.”

  “I get it,” she said and clutched at the sheet, like she was uncomfortable with my presence.

  “I just… It makes me crazy knowing he was here with you.”

  “He wasn’t with me.” She sighed. “And I’m sorry I never told you he was here.”

  She reached around me to turn on the shower and I grabbed her before she could move away, wrapping my arms around her.

  I think whatever is inside me liked when you were fighting. It wanted out so it could fight too.

  I’m so sorry

  I know you are. She leaned up and pressed a kiss to my lips. Then, she laid the sheet on my arms and stepped beneath the spray of warm water, pulling the curtain closed.

  Out in the living room, Riley was making himself at home, eating a donut and drinking his coffee. Logan was watching TV.

  “What the hell are you really doing here?” I growled low at Riley.

  “You heard. Heven asked me for help.”

  “Since when are you the helpful kind?”

  Riley turned his flashing eyes to me. He didn’t say a word, just sipped his coffee.

  “How long have you been here?”

  “Couple days.”

  “You might as well tell me what you want so I can send you on your way.”

  “Who says I want something?”

  “You don’t do anything for free.”

  He actually looked offended. Then he recovered to say, “Who’s to say I haven’t gotten it already?”

  “If you had, you’d be gone.” I glanced at Logan to see him watching us and I decided to let the subject drop for the time being. I grabbed one of the coffees and went to sit next to him. As he told me about his stay with Gran, I kept half an ear out for Heven in case she needed me.

  “The funeral is tomorrow,” Logan said, drawing my complete attention.

  “Yeah, she told me.”

  “This is all my fault, Sam.” The despair in his voice was so deep.

  I looked him in the eye and held his stare. “This was not your fault. This was Beelzebub’s fault. He did this. Not you.”

  “She’s been so nice to me. I didn’t deserve it.”

  “Of course you deserve it,” I said, grabbing his shoulder and squeezing. He started coughing and I drew back. “Logan?”

  “I’m okay,” he said after a few minutes. “I haven’t been feeling too well.”

  By the looks of him, that was an understatement. That demon had completely wrecked his body. I tried to remind myself he had only had eight days to recover, that he would, it would just take a while.

  “I have to tell her, Sam,” Logan said, and I noticed Riley was listening.

  “Yeah, okay. But let’s wait until after the funeral.”

  Logan nodded, looking relieved that he would soon be free of his lie.

  I glanced back at Riley, who was pretending not to listen to my conversation. I had a feeling that very soon a lot of truths were going to come out.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Heven

  Dark clouds rolled overhead and thunder rumbled so closely the saturated ground vibrated beneath my feet. As the priest spoke, lightning cracked and lit up the sky, making it look violet.

  I was dressed all in black with a black fedora soundly perched on my head. Dark sunglasses covered my red-rimmed eyes and I clutched several tissues in my hand. I stood beneath a sizable black umbrella that Sam held over me while Gran and I huddled close for necessity and comfort. Rain splattered around us, falling in heavy sheets. The priest had said that heaven was weeping at the sudden loss of life.

  Despite the miserable weather, the crowd was substantial. My mother and I may have had our problems, but she was well loved. Especially by the congregation at her church, who all stood nearby silently praying as they stared at the simple coffin about to be lowered into the ground. Also in attendance were many of my father’s old co-workers, who were all decked out in their finest police uniforms, adding a bit of polish to this otherwise dull day.

  Underneath the umbrella next to ours stood Logan and Cole, also dressed in all black. His injuries from our trip into hell were gone, courtesy of Gemma’s healing powers. His mother hadn’t come, but she did send along her condolences, and his father stood at the edge of the crowd with sincere sorrow on his face. It made me respect the man who raised Cole even more. It made me think of my own father and the things he said when I saw him.

  I had so many questions and so few answers. But it seemed wrong somehow to think about that now, here, so I turned back to the crowd and the coff
in.

  There were people here from school too. I felt their gazes on me even as they tried not to look. Even though I had made strides in reclaiming my once-popular status last year, I knew those strides no longer mattered.

  I was back to being a freak. An unknown, a person of mystery and suspicion. No one could keep themselves from staring at the new scar that was gracing the left side of my face. Granted, it wasn’t like the old one. It wasn’t disfiguring, but it was there. Worse, I hadn’t offered a word of explanation. I could almost hear the rumors flying through the crowd now. And to top it off, my mother was dead. Befallen by some freak accident and no one really knew what happened. She suffered a head injury, should have woken up, but died instead.

  I lifted my chin and brushed them all off. After having my head invaded by a Dream Walker, who also happens to be the Prince of Demons in hell, being hexed by an all-powerful witch and taking a terrifying ride on the back of a dragon through a wall of fire, a bunch of rumors from some high school students was a day at the park. I searched the crowd, my eyes going to the back to find Gemma standing alone, holding her own umbrella, and dressed in black with her hair down framing her face. Even in sorrow she was beautiful and her eyes never once left my brother.

  The priest said his final words, then invited Gran and I to toss a single red rose down into the seemingly endless hole that the casket was being lowered into. I held the rose out, suspended above the hole, and looked down, saying a short prayer of my own before letting go and watching the flower fall gracefully down. Sam wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me gently into his side while tilting the umbrella and blocking me from curious onlookers. It was here that I said my final good-byes. Here, I said all things I never got to say. I hoped she heard them and I hoped she finally understood me. If even a little.

  Sam ushered me back so that a few others could come forward and toss a rose, paying their final respects. I couldn’t watch them. Instead I looked out over the cemetery at all the other marked graves and spots of color from the flowers decorating them. It was then that I noticed the movement. He was a shock of black amongst a sea of gray headstones.

  Riley was standing without an umbrella as the rain pelted him from every angle. His already black hair was like midnight and plastered to his forehead. Water dripped off his face and fell onto his already soaked clothing. He saw me looking and gave a brief, almost imperceptible nod. Then, shockingly, he clasped his hands and looked down.

  It was the most respectful thing I’d ever witnessed him do, and the nicest. He did think of us as friends and he just proved it. Otherwise, he wouldn’t stand in the pouring rain to pay respects to a woman who would have hated him.

  People started to leave, a few of them coming to me to offer one more condolence. Most, however, hurried to their cars to get out of the storm. When just a few people were left, I looked back at Riley, not really knowing why, but sensing I should.

  He was no longer alone.

  But he didn’t know it.

  He was being ambushed from behind.

  Most likely, it was a demon, but I couldn’t be sure because it was covered in a long, black trench coat and had an oversized hat on its head. The biggest indicator was its lack of aura. I tried to ignore the way the beast inside me seemed to take notice of its ‘friend.’ It was running low with its arms extended, ready to take him out from behind.

  I made a sound in the back of my throat, but it was too late.

  The demon was on him.

  Riley wasn’t startled and he didn’t jerk in surprise. Almost as if it were a reflex, he kicked out behind himself and caught the demon at the waist. Then, seemingly not in a hurry, he turned to kick it in the face, this time sending it to the ground. Instead of just punching his hand through its chest, a dagger appeared in his hand, and in one swift motion he cut off its head. He tossed the body behind a nearby oversized tombstone and walked away through the pouring rain, the head dangling from his hand as he moved. He didn’t once look back. I stood, shaken, cold to the bone, as I watched morbidly as the rain washed the blood away.

  Like it never even happened.

  I even blinked, trying to decide if it had. Unfortunately, it must have because the beast inside me was awakened by the violence that I just witnessed. It felt like he charged at full speed but hit the wall of my body, causing him to crash backward, which made me stumble back. Sam was there to steady me, but unfortunately, the thing wasn’t done. It charged again, throwing me forward, and I fell to my knees. Gran was there, fretting, helping me up, and the priest was looking at me with pity.

  “I’m sorry,” I managed as I got to my feet. “It’s very muddy and I’m not used to wearing heels.” It was a lame excuse, but I could do no better. Logan, who seemed very subdued during the entire funeral, reached out and took my arm to help me toward the car. I smiled at him and he lowered his eyes.

  “We should go,” Gran said. “It’s cold and we have guests coming to the house.”

  “Of course,” I said, feeling a searing pain across my stomach. I wanted to lurch forward, but I didn’t want to draw more attention to myself so I leaned into Sam for support.

  What set it off? Sam asked as he led Gran and I away.

  There was a demon across the cemetery. Riley killed it.

  His mouth flattened into a thin line as his eyes searched the immediate area. I prayed there were no more. I climbed into the backseat of Gran’s Toyota, trying to ignore the pain in my stomach, not needing to look to know I would find a fresh set of marks.

  On the way home I tried to remember some good times that my mother and I shared over the years. But it was hard. I kept hearing the words she said to me last. You’re evil; you’re not my daughter anymore. Visions of hell clouded behind my eyes and called out to me. I saw the charred, desolate landscape and the sunless, smoky sky.

  Nothing terrible or too frightening yet, but the images shook me to my core.

  Not because they were unsightly and depressing, but because they weren’t.

  No, what was scariest of all was that these images of hell actually looked inviting.

  *

  I felt restless and edgy. I prowled the dimly lit room because I couldn’t sit down. I’d already changed out of my funeral clothes and threw them into the back of my closet where hopefully, I would never see them again. I didn’t understand this energy I was feeling. I was uncomfortable in my own skin and I wanted a distraction, anything to take my mind off how I was feeling. I glanced at the clock for the tenth time and sighed.

  I missed Sam. He left about twenty minutes ago, kissing me gently and giving my hands a squeeze. I closed my eyes and tried to feel that touch now, but my hands were cold. His touch was never cold. I pictured his retreating back as he walked to his truck and turned back. His devastating golden beauty made it difficult to stand in the door. But then Gran had called to me and he drove away. I knew he would be back as soon as possible, just as I knew he had to actually leave so he could sneak back through my bedroom window.

  Logan was still here, still in the guest room. It was most likely going to be his last night. Now that Sam was home, Logan was going to go back to Sam’s apartment and I was going to have to come up with some sort of lie about why Logan wasn’t going home to his parents. It would be hard to explain why those eight days Sam spent “visiting his parents” and working things out so Logan could go home weren’t successful. Sam wouldn’t be able to sleep here when Logan went home. He would need to stay with his brother at their apartment.

  Sometimes I hated being seventeen. I was too young to live the way I wanted and governed by rules that were so unfair. I had already lived through more than most people could even dream of. Some days I felt so old.

  I heard a sound behind me and I tensed, but before I could react, Sam’s arms were wrapping around me, drawing me back into the heat of his body. I sighed. Finally, I was where I wanted to be. You were gone too long.

  He nuzzled the back of my neck and I forgot my words.
I turned and laid my head on his chest, bringing my hands up between us and curling into him as much as I could. I fit so well against him. It was like he was made just for this. That I was made for this. When he hunched himself around me, some of the edginess I felt disappeared.

  You did good today, he said.

  Burying my mother isn’t something I want to be good at.

  He rubbed slow circles over my back and I enjoyed hearing a long, slow breath fill his lungs.

  I feel guilty because I’m just glad it’s over. I admitted.

  There’s nothing wrong with wanting some of the pain to go away.