by BJ Sheldon
“Fine. Tell me why I should believe that’s where the entrance to Hell is.”
Gavyn smirked and rolled his eyes playfully. “If I’m being honest? I’ve been following Naberius’s guys for a while and I always lose them near the tower.”
I stared at him in disbelief.
“Why didn’t you say that to begin with?” I barked.
Gavyn shrugged. “I like to hear myself talk.”
“Jackass,” Dorian mumbled.
“Whatever,” I said, tossing my arms in the air. “So, I say we head to Wyoming, to the tower. But we don’t know what Michael looks like and we don’t know where the gateway to Hell is specifically. Can’t say we’re off to a great start in the saving-the-world-department.”
“Oh, ye of little faith. You have a secret weapon that will lead you to victory,” said Gavyn.
“And what’s that?”
“Me.”
* * * *
We couldn’t find the entrance to Hell without the ring. We couldn’t find the ring without Michael. And we couldn’t find Michael without some type of divine intervention.
No matter how you looked at our situation, it wasn’t looking real promising.
“Are you okay?” asked Dorian.
I sighed and scratched the back of my head.
“I guess. Just frustrated,” I replied.
Dorian grew quiet. “Are we okay?”
My gaze met his. I knew what he was asking, but I couldn’t give him the answer he was looking for.
“I don’t know, yet.”
He bit his lip and nodded before staring at the floor.
Gavyn had wandered off. We assumed he wanted a head start to scope things out. I still didn’t trust him…not entirely. But he was the only lead we had to finding the ring.
Dorian and I had headed inside the trailer to see if we could find any maps or books on Devils Tower, but I already knew that no matter what we found it wouldn’t be any help in finding what we were looking for. It was merely a distraction.
My mind wandered. I suddenly couldn’t get Sean off my mind. He would have loved the adventure of searching for the entrance of Hell, tagging along under the guise of keeping me safe when in reality it would have been the other way around. In the end, I had failed Sean.
But I vowed to never make that mistake again.
“I think we need to bring Grace with us,” I stated.
“You don’t think that would be too dangerous for her?”
“Naberius has already shown that he’s willing to go to great lengths to hurt anyone who is associated with me. He’s had her attacked, had his men go after you. If we leave her behind while we check out the tower, I’m afraid we’ll just be leaving her vulnerable. As dangerous as it would be to bring her along, I think it would be even more dangerous to leave her behind.”
“I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.”
“Well, I’m not really looking for your approval.”
“You’re upset.”
“Damn right I’m upset. What the hell is going on with you? It’s like you have this pent-up rage against me—as if you’re pissed that you were sent back as an immortal—as if you blame me somehow.”
“I don’t blame you…”
“So, you are pissed!”
“You didn’t let me finish.”
Dorian reached out and gently took my hands. His hands were warm and comforting, but my mind flashed back to his earlier rage. I pulled away and took a step back.
“I don’t blame you for anything. I don’t have anything to blame you for. And I have no regrets at making the decision to come back. I don’t have pent up rage. To be honest, I don’t really understand it when it happens. It’s like something—”
“W—wait. You chose?” I asked, interrupting Dorian’s thoughts.
“What?”
“You said you chose to come back. How do you know that?”
Dorian’s face went blank, and then I witnessed something in his eyes that I hadn’t noticed before. It was as if two separate thoughts were competing for his attention, one good, one evil. His brow and lips would contort and then return to normal in a split second, possibly undetectable to the average person.
But I wasn’t average.
His gaze grew vacant, as if he’d fallen asleep with his eyes open.
“Dorian,” I barked, snapping my fingers in his face.
He didn’t respond.
I snapped again.
His eyes fluttered and he again seemed to be conscious to the world around him.
“You okay?” I asked frantically.
Dorian looked at me and smiled, confusion etched on his brow.
“I’m fine. Why?”
“You checked out for a couple of seconds.”
“Checked out?”
“You don’t remember? It was almost like you’d passed out, only standing up.”
Dorian laughed, clearly not following what I was saying. He shook his head and waved me off, then turned away and began digging through some old books near the front door as if nothing had happened.
I suddenly remembered Arna’s words, and realized he hadn’t been wrong. Dorian was different. But what I couldn’t understand was why.
Why was he acting like that? Why did he seem to have temporary moments of rage followed by moments of complete contentment? It was as if he was fighting some kind of internal battle with himself.
And now he’d confessed, seemingly unknowingly even to himself, that he hadn’t merely been sent back after his death. He’d chosen to come back. Had he started to remember?
“So, what are you going to do about Grace?” Dorian suddenly asked, still perusing my stacks of books.
I refocused and again set my thoughts on Grace.
“I think she’s safer with us than without us. At least that way, if she comes along, I can keep an eye on her.”
“Your call,” he replied. “But we all know how well that worked for Sean.”
I shot Dorian a look that could kill. He took a giant step back, probably knowing he’d overstepped. My chest tightened and I gritted my teeth. As I fought back seething rage, my ears began to ring. But I bit my tongue, not wanting to fight. At least not right then.
I left a cell phone in my studio for emergencies. Leaving Dorian behind, I ran to fetch it and dialed up Grace. It took quite a bit of convincing, but I finally managed to talk her into coming along on our little adventure. I may have used a bit of fear-mongering to convince her, but I felt it was in her best interest.
The decision to have her join us wasn’t one I took lightly. As Dorian had so eloquently stated earlier, Sean had tagged along when we went to the Badlands, and I hadn’t been able to save him. Would he have lived if he had stayed behind? Maybe. But there had always been the possibility that Raja and his warriors would have gone after him anyway just to get to me.
I could leave Grace behind and hope she’d be left in peace, but I had also become quite adept at understanding what drove my enemies.
Rather than hurt the person directly, it was far more effective to hurt those they were closest to.
It would be at least an hour before Grace pulled up to the trailer. While Dorian stayed in the trailer and continued to search for anything on Devils Tower or the gateway to Hell, I made my way outside to meditate a bit. I needed to clear my head. There had been far too many thoughts consuming my time and energy recently.
What was my father hiding from me about my mother?
Which one of my friends was keeping a deadly secret from me?
And the question that had suddenly struck me—why was Naberius so insistent that I be the one to find and deliver Solomon’s Seal? What special significance did that hold for him…or anyone for that matter?
I lay down on the grass in front of my studio and folded my hands across my chest. My chest rose and fell as I became in tuned with my breathing. I closed my eyes and cleared my thoughts. Pushing all conscious thought from my mind, I slowed my brea
ths. In a matter of seconds, I could hear my own heart, and I focused on its beat.
Suddenly, it felt as though I was floating in a void surrounded by darkness. Complete sensory deprivation took over, and I allowed the nothingness to fill me with peace. I basked in the serenity, taking full advantage of the calm that had engulfed me. Days of stress melted away, and for the first time in a while I was content.
But that serenity was suddenly interrupted. Screams pierced the darkness. My eyes shot open and I was surrounded by sudden scenes of fire, gnashing teeth, and glowing eyes which seemed to be watching me from the void. The same growls that had come from the demons we’d fought earlier permeated the air around me quickly followed by the smell of sulfur. I tried to move but I was frozen in place. A feeling consumed me…a feeling I’d rarely felt in my long life thus far.
Fear.
It incapacitated me. I felt myself shake inside my mind. What was happening to me?
Suddenly, I was standing in an empty darkness and watched helplessly, frozen, as a figure crept out of the shadows. Naberius appeared before me, giving off a faint, red glow. He grinned, his smile charming, his eyes guileful. I despised him with every ounce of my being, but I couldn’t even spit in his direction. Unable to move, I was at his mercy. He circled me like a jungle cat circles its prey, waiting to pounce. I attempted to speak, but even that ability had been taken from me.
“It would do you well to find that ring, Skyy, and bring it to me. I can promise you asylum when the world you love comes crashing down. When humanity burns—and they will burn—there will be nothing you can do to save them. And I know what you’d say if you could. Heaven will defeat you and protect humanity.” Naberius clicked his tongue over and over, shaking his head. “You are misguided, dear girl. You are under some kind of assumption that Heaven, or its angels as it were, care anything about the mortals of your world. Your assumption would be wrong. As the Fallen taught you, many feel they are superior to God’s creation and care nothing about humans. Not a stitch. And if they were wiped off the face of the earth, most of Heaven wouldn’t even blink. And if you could speak, you might also say, Naberius…I would side with Heaven and its Watchers before siding with you in any battle. But you would be wrong again. Rumor has it that many Watchers find you an abomination…something unholy that never should have existed in the first place. You aren’t pure…you are like a lab experiment to those creatures.”
Naberius stopped circling. He leaned in, our noses nearly touching.
“It doesn’t matter, Skyy. None of it. Whether I gain control of the ring, or whether you hand it over to someone like Arna. Either way, humanity is doomed. And we both know you cannot keep it yourself, because it will drive you insane with power. And in the end, it will consume every ounce of your morality and you’ll end up right back here…with me.”
He leaned in closer and gently rubbed the tip of his nose to mine, and then without warning his lips were on mine. I couldn’t fight him off, and could only stand in horror as his hands found their way to my hips and glided upward, stopping just above my waist before sliding them to my back. He pulled me toward him, pressing his body against mine. I screamed inside my head, wanting to tear his head off. I had never felt so helpless, so unable to defend myself, in my entire immortal life.
Naberius finally pulled away…but only slightly. I could still feel his warm breath on my face, his hands unmoved from the small of my back. He stared into my eyes as they danced with mischief and self-assurance. I couldn’t look away. He leaned in and kissed me again. I managed a muffled scream which seemed to get stuck in the back of my throat. His hands moved again and found their way to the sides of my waist.
Naberius finally stepped back. Using his fingertips, he suggestively wiped his mouth. His gaze traveled up and down, taking in every inch of my body with his signature grin plastered across his lips, causing a shiver that raced up my spine. He reached out and gently traced my jawline. Then, with the simple wave of his hand I suddenly had the ability to move my lips.
“You bastard,” I spit. “If you think that for one second—”
“That you’d actually fight alongside of me?” he interrupted.
“Let’s just say I’d rather have my wings torn off than fight alongside anyone from Hell.”
“That could be arranged.”
I took in a deep breath. “Let me make something perfectly clear. You will lose in the end. I’ll make sure of that.”
“And I will enjoy watching you try.” Naberius reached out again and allowed the back of his hand to glide down my cheek. “In the end, the ring will belong to me…as will you. Remember…you have a choice.”
Mina’s words suddenly echoed through my thoughts.
That I’d eventually have to make a choice…a choice between saving one or saving all.
“Whatever choices I make, I can guarantee that I will never fall into bed with you. Figuratively or metaphorically.” I raised my chin in defiance and glared at him. “Are we done here?”
A self-satisfying grin spread across his face. He licked his lips seductively and tucked his long, red hair behind his ears and winked. He snapped his fingers and he was gone in a puff of smoke.
I suddenly felt water running down my face. I opened my eyes and found that the clouds above had opened in a deluge of rain. I shot up and looked around, disoriented and unable to immediately grasp where I was.
“Omigod, Skyy! Are you okay?” Grace was crouched at my side. She placed one hand on my elbow and the other on my back and guided me to my feet where mud seeped up between my toes. “What happened?”
I felt someone gripping my other elbow, and as I turned my head, Dorian’s hands immediately found their way to the sides of my face.
“Look at me. What the hell happened? You’ve been lying there completely comatose for over an hour.”
I reached up and placed my hands on his.
“Naberius happened. He had me trapped inside my mind, as far as I can tell.”
“What did he want?” asked Dorian.
“Me.”
Chapter 17
Dorian grew incensed and punched a hole right through the studio wall. He grabbed a metal pipe from one of my scrap piles and went to town on an old sculpture in the corner, clubbing it into nothing but a pile of scrap by the time he was done. While it hadn’t been my best work, I was still sad to see it utterly destroyed at the hands of my extremely irate boyfriend. Grace and I stayed back and allowed him to work out his anger without interference, but when he began to snatch and destroy some of my favorite paintings, I had no choice but to intervene.
“Okay. You’re done,” I said grabbing a canvas from his grip before he had the chance to put his fist through it. I slid it behind me for Grace to grab and waved her on, telling her to quietly put it back where Dorian had found it. “There’s no point in taking out your frustration with Naberius on years of my work.”
“That bastard had his hands on you! Kissed you! I will literally tear that bright red hair from his head with my bare hands, then rip his head from his neck and feed it to the wolves. I swear to God, Skyy. I’m going to kill him.” Dorian’s hands flew up, waving them about wildly. He continued stomping about my studio shouting out sporadic obscenities. I knew there was no calming him down, and suddenly I regretted telling him anything at all.
“How about we rein in all that energy you’re expelling right now and put it into finding the Seal of Solomon so we can figure out how to end all of this?” I asked him.
“He really thinks you’re going to side with him when all is said and done?” Grace asked, still holding my painting.
“Apparently. He said I’ll end up not having a choice. Whatever that means,” I replied. I grabbed the canvas from her hand and shoved it back into my collection. As I bent down and picked up what was left of my other paintings, Grace spoke up.
“So, let me get this straight. Hell gets the ring, Heaven will fight them for it and everyone on the planet will die.”
“Yes.”
“And if Heaven gets the ring, Hell will fight them for it and all of humanity will be destroyed.”
“Yes.”
“And if you keep the ring, Naberius said it would make you power-hungry and you’d lose your morality?”
“Yep.”
“So, tell me again why we’re heading to Devils Tower to look for Michael and the ring?” Grace raised her eyebrows in anticipation, waiting to hear my reply.
“Look. I think there’s more to all of this than what everyone is telling me, to be honest. There’s more at stake.” I walked over to my trash bin, my arms full of ripped and busted canvas, and dropped it all in. I stood, staring into the garbage, and thought about everything that had happened since I’d drawn the seal. Nothing made sense.
But there was one person who could make sense of it all. And I needed answers.
“Sam!” I shouted. “Get your ass down here!”
Dorian and Grace jumped back, startled by my outburst.
I looked around, waiting for him to show himself, but nothing happened.
“Raphael! I mean it! Get down here! I’m not screwing around here.”
A slight breeze wafted through the studio, causing my hair to blow forward and into my face.
“Hello, Skyy.” We jerked our heads around to find Raphael had materialized behind us. He stood by my collection of paintings where each leaned up against the next. He was in Watcher form, looking regal and as indifferent as usual.
“Holy shit,” whispered Grace under her breath at his sudden presence.
“Time for you to tell me what you know. No more games,” I demanded.
Raphael said nothing. His stare didn’t waver as I shot him the angriest look I had in my arsenal.
“Dammit, Sam! You owe me! You owe me everything here. I did what I was supposed to do in the Badlands, and because of it, I lost Sean. And now I’m being forced into a tug-of-war with Naberius and Hell without anything to go on. At all. I’m damned if I do, damned if I don’t. I find the ring, I can’t possess it because it will turn me into a power-hungry monster. I can’t give it to Heaven or Hell because that kind of power must never be used by either side. And then I get a cryptic message from a medium that both my biological father and a close friend are keeping secrets from me. So, somebody is going to start talking, and it might as well start with you.”
