by Jodi Redford
All because he didn’t have the balls to tell her he loved her too.
Chapter Twenty-Six
“Cass, please wake up.” Tears blurring her vision, Marabella rocked in her chair, the puny thumps barely jostling her, much less doing anything to rouse Cass. Defeated and dizzy from the extra dose of chloral hydrate that Pricilla had administered, Marabella ceased her futile attempts. She’d never felt more weak and helpless than she did in that moment.
It wasn’t fair that she’d finally found her inner strength and power, only to have it beaten and demolished by a stupid drug. Was this similar to what Sam had experienced the whole time he was being corrupted? No wonder he’d been so grumpy about the entire thing. It really sucked being stripped of control.
Recalling their broken link, she blinked against a fresh crop of tears. For a few blissful moments she’d heard his voice in her head. The sound of it had filled her with amazing hope and made her ache for him like crazy. But after those way-too-brief flashes, he’d disappeared. It was like having a piece of her heart ripped away.
What was he doing right now? Was he safe? The not knowing was the hardest part. It gave her too much room to imagine the worst.
The door opened, and she stiffened as Pricilla walked in carrying a bottle of iodine in one hand and a length of clear tubing in the other. Pricilla placed both items by the group of syringes before turning and scanning Marabella with a critical eye. One of Pricilla’s long, scarlet-painted nails poked beneath Marabella’s chin and tilted it upward.
“If I didn’t know the powers you possess, I wouldn’t even assume you’re the least bit special,” Pricilla said with supreme snarkiness. She let Marabella’s chin drop back in place. She strode to Cass and slapped her awake with a series of brisk smacks across her cheek.
Blinking groggily, Cass scowled at Pricilla before glancing in Marabella’s direction. Concern immediately overrode Cass’s indignant glower. “Are you okay?”
Leave it to Cass to be more worried about Marabella’s welfare than her own perilous predicament. Bemused, Marabella nodded. “Y-yes. But she set us up, Cass.” Tears prickled behind her eyelids again. “Sam is stranded in the Death Wards. I can’t reach him.”
“Such a touching display of emotion.” Dispassionate cruelty laced Pricilla’s tone. “It’s almost enough to make me cry.”
Cass’s eyes flashed with fire. “Listen, you horrid bitch, whatever deviousness you have up your sleeve isn’t going to do a damn bit of good. Once my family finds out you’re holding us here, you’re as good as toast.”
“No, I believe you’ll be the one toasted—or should I say roasted—by the time my plan has fully sprung into action. You, your family…” Pricilla gave a wide sweep of her arm. “Basically every reaper in existence will ultimately be wiped off the face of the earth.”
A heavy silence descended on the room before Cass broke out in hysterical laughter. “Oh man, and here Sam called me batshit crazy. How in the hell do you propose accomplishing this miraculous feat?”
“Easy. You’re going to assassinate the demon king and his worthless council, which in turn will mark the beginnings of the war between demons and reapers for the treachery you’ve committed.” A calculating smile curved Pricilla’s mouth. “Technically, I’ll be the one performing the treason, of course. Not that anyone outside this room will ever know it.”
Cass looked shell-shocked by Pricilla’s admission. “War? For what possible purpose?”
Pricilla’s cold, haughty features twisted with ugly menace. It was the first real glimpse of true emotion Marabella had witnessed on the female demon’s face since being captured. “You reapers have been the favored children of Death for far too long. It’s time for a new system to inherit the earth. My system. With you out of the way, Death will have no choice but to crown me Queen.”
Cass shook her head furiously. “You’ll never get away with this.”
“Funny how everyone keeps telling me that.” Pricilla strode to the desk and picked up the bottle of iodine. Soaking a cotton ball with the solution, she approached Marabella. “It’s going to give me such great pleasure proving you wrong.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Sam listened to the ferocious growls of the hellhounds congregating outside the door as he checked the number of rounds left in Lucy. He had enough to take out five of the beasts. Assuming one of them didn’t get him first.
Sooner or later, the hounds would break inside. It was only a matter of time before one of them abandoned the pack and shook off the hunter’s haze keeping them locked in form. A hellhound in human skin was no less dangerous, and they came with the inconvenient benefit of functioning fingers that could open doors.
“Are you just going to lie there like a bump on a log all day?”
Sam slid Aster a weary glance. “What do you want me to do, old man? In case you didn’t notice, I’m trapped in here like a damn Scooby Snack.”
Aster made a grumping noise. “I can’t believe I’m missing Days of Our Death for this.”
Sam grunted. “You think you’ve got it bad? I’m going to be stuck here for eternity with you. Hell, they’ll probably shackle me to a wall in your house, just to punish me.” And he’d thought disco music was torture. That’d be a welcome relief compared to listening to Aster all day.
“What do you mean you’re stuck here? What kind of crappy soul collector gets stranded on the Death Wards?”
Sam debated tuning Aster out again, but what was the point? A padlock on the warlock’s mouth wouldn’t shut him up. Stretching one leg out in front of him, Sam stared glumly at his boot. He dredged up the image of Marabella’s sweet, angelic face. A dull ache settled in his heart. “The kind who was too stubborn and stupid to tell the witch who loves him that he loves her back.”
Aster was surprisingly silent for a few moments. It was the best two damn minutes of Sam’s life.
“Boy, you do have rocks for brains.”
Sam eyed the gun in his hand. It was tempting to waste one of the bullets on Aster just to shut him up for the time being. But his luck, the aggravating son of a bitch would probably find a way to still flap his gums from inside the chamber.
“Don’t you know women need to hear that kind of stuff? They’re verbal. Much more so than us men.” Aster gave a decisive nod. “Yep, dang females can yap on and on and on.”
Sam sent the warlock an ironic look that sailed right over the spirit’s head.
Aster leaned on his staff and stroked his beard. “They also like to be wooed and romanced. Did you do any of that?”
Sam mentally tracked to the forgotten flowers left in the cab. “No.”
“So not only are you a crappy soul collector, you’re also a crappy boyfriend.”
Much as it chapped Sam’s ass, he silently acknowledged that Aster had nailed it on the head with that one.
He’d failed Marabella. Big time. Frankly, he deserved to have his sorry, miserable ass ripped apart by those hellhounds outside.
His tormented thoughts spun back to Marabella’s telepathic communications with him earlier. She’d said something about Pricilla and blood. His gut cramped at the implications of what that could mean. He knew the viciousness Pricilla was capable of. No telling what she’d do to Marabella.
A hot wave of fury replaced the dismalness that’d gripped him. If as much as one drop of Marabella’s blood was spilled at the hands of Pricilla, even death wouldn’t keep him from tearing Pricilla limb from limb.
Without warning, a fierce bullet of energy sizzled across his skin, jolting him. The shock of sensation rocketed him to his feet just as the door handle across from him began rattling frantically. One of the damn hellhounds had shifted and was trying to bypass the lock. Talk about bad fucking timing.
Aiming Lucy at the shaking door, Sam focused on the stirrings of energy zinging in and out of focus throughout his body. Hope and desperation pumped adrenaline through his veins, making his grip on Lucy dangerously unsteady. He fixed the
image of Marabella within his mind like a beautiful oasis calling to him. Static buzzed in his brain before a blip of sound broke through the scrambled signal. “Sam!”
His knees nearly buckled in relief. “Bella, baby, I’m coming for you.”
The transmission fizzled, along with the electrical charge snapping through him. His anguished roar echoed in the room. Refusing to let defeat beat him into the ground, he reached out with everything inside him to grab the unraveling threads of their bonded link. Marabella’s impassioned words ghosted through his mind. You have a voice, whether you believe it or not. And you have the right to use it.
The gatehouse door burst open, and a sea of fur and snarling fangs descended upon him. Surprisingly, Aster leapt into the fray and conked one of the hellhounds in the head with his staff. The crazy old warlock got out a gleeful chortle before the hound’s comrade chomped onto the end of Aster’s cloak and whipped him through the doorway. Aster yelled some disparaging comment about flea-bitten hounds before the door slammed shut on him, snuffing the remainder of his insult.
Left to defend himself on his own, Sam fired at the horde of beasts, taking one out while another leapt at his throat with a victorious howl. Death might win this round, but not without him having the last words. “I love you, Bella.”
Brilliant streams of light filled his soul and splintered throughout him, suspending the room in a dazzling glare. A blur of motion surrounded him, spinning the gatehouse and everything inside it like a centrifuge. Out of the chaos a tunnel appeared, and shimmering chains rippled toward him. He snatched the end of one before it could disappear. The tunnel sucked him in, and suddenly he was flying through teleport space. A tiny square of light appeared before him, growing infinitely larger as the chain attached to it towed him in. The tunnel narrowed, shooting him into the vast opening of light. He landed running, instinctively knowing where his blurred environment was taking him.
The accelerated landscape locked into static shape. Ahead of him stood Pricilla’s mansion. He barreled in its direction, narrowly missing a passing car. Ignoring the vehicle’s angry horn blast, he raced up the drive, the Palladium window on the left side of the porch fixed in his sights. He vaulted over the rail and tucked his arms in front of his face. Crashing through the glass, he did a duck and roll, landing on his haunches.
Startled shouts shot from Pricilla’s goons. Their confusion awarding him the edge, he fired off Lucy, putting a bullet through the first two thugs before the other two even knew what was happening. The third goon grabbed for his gun a second too late. Unfortunately, the fourth had better luck. A bullet whizzed into Sam’s shoulder, knocking him back.
He staggered against the wall, woozy from his sprint and his additional loss of blood. His opponent realigned his shot. Before the thug managed to squeeze the trigger, Sam slammed a bullet between the goon’s eyes. He hurtled over the fallen demon and raced down the hall. “Bella!”
Muffled shouts came from the vicinity of Pricilla’s office. He kicked the door in and swung Lucy in front of him. Cass was trussed up in one chair and Marabella in another. His trigger finger wobbled as he took in the knife Pricilla had wedged to Marabella’s throat.
Hunkering closer to Marabella’s chair, Pricilla flashed a menacing smile. “Imagine that. You did come for her.” She dug the blade deeper, making Marabella wince. “Guess now we’ll see firsthand whose ass you’ll save. Hers…or yours.”
Marabella stared at Sam, her heart bursting with a strange combination of joy and terror. She shoved her panic to the farthest recesses of her mind. Sam was here. Alive. The horrible defeat that’d been her existence for the past several hours vanished into the ether.
Her attention drifted to the bright red stain spreading across the sleeve of his T-shirt. Just like that, her anxiety returned full force.
“You’re hurt.” She winced when the blade’s tip dug a fraction deeper into her skin.
His face unnaturally pale, Sam shifted his focus from the knife and looked into her eyes. The depth of emotion in his dark irises stole her breath. “I love you, Bella.”
She blinked back tears. “I know I told you there wasn’t any need to say it back, but I’m glad you did.”
His gaze never wavered from hers. “I plan to say it a lot more. Every damn day in fact. So hang in there, and trust that I’m going to get us through this.”
Thank goddess for their telepathic link, because nodding was out of the question with the knife currently jammed against her throat. “I know you will.”
Sam’s attention lifted toward Pricilla. “I’m giving you two seconds to remove that fucking knife.”
An icy laugh trickled from Pricilla. “In case you didn’t notice, your whore stands a better chance of taking that bullet than me.”
“Don’t count on it.” Deadly vengeance glinting in his eyes, Sam cocked his gun.
The knife remained pinned in place. “I believe this is where our negotiations come in. I offered you a choice—Marabella’s life, or yours.”
“Unless you’ve got an invisible gun pointed at my head, I fail to see your logic with that one, bitch.”
“Let me enlighten you then. You’re the property of the council. Being bound to this witch means nothing to them. You know that. But I’m giving you a way out.” Pricilla’s knife slipped dangerously close to Marabella’s jugular. “Her blood holds the key that will pave the road to your happiness, Samael. One press of a plunger. That’s all it’ll take to sever your indenture to Marcus and the rest of the council. Kill me, and you will never be free.”
From the corner of her eye, Marabella noticed Cass struggling against her bindings. “Don’t listen to her. She’s planning their assassination as a means to start a war between the reapers and demons. We’ll all be dead if she gets her way.”
“I’m offering you your freedom, Samael. The one thing you’ve desired for an eternity. The loss of a few reapers is insignificant in comparison.” Pricilla eased the knife away enough that Marabella no longer felt its cold bite. “I will even sweeten the deal for you and let this one live. Think of it—your freedom and your whore.”
A muscle tic twitched near Sam’s left eye.
“So which will it be? The lives of those who will control you forever? Or mine?”
“Hell, that’s not even a choice.” The sudden bang and plume of smoke funneling from the revolver’s muzzle preceded a loud thump behind the chair Marabella was strapped in. Uncontrollable tremors racking her, she stared at Sam. The lethalness in his expression softened as he tossed his gun down and rushed toward her. He used the knife Pricilla had dropped to cut the ropes loose. His hands trembling, he cupped Marabella’s face. She swore tears glistened in his eyes as he leaned in and pressed his forehead to hers. His shaky exhale feathered over her lips. “I thought I’d lost you forever.”
“Uh, guys, not to ruin this beautiful moment, but I’m still tied up here.”
Sam moved away from her long enough to free Cass and subsequently endure his cousin’s tackle hug. A pained yelp broke from Sam, returning Marabella’s attention to his wound.
She urged Cass aside and stared in horror at the bloodstained hole in Sam’s shirt. “You’ve been shot.”
“I’ll be fine.” The sudden wobble in Sam’s knees belied his declaration.
Snatching his wrist, Marabella tugged him onto the nearest chair and tore his shirt at the shoulder seam before carefully examining the small, oozing wound. The good news was the bullet didn’t look like it’d hit any vital organs. A quick check verified a point of exit just above Sam’s shoulder blade. Stomach pitching, she pressed her fingers against both wounds to staunch the flow of blood and yelled at Cass to call for an ambulance.
Her face losing all color, Cass shot from the room.
Sam grunted. “You can’t call 9-1-1, baby. We’ve got a house full of dead demons. That’s bound to raise questions.”
“I don’t care. There’s no way I’m letting you bleed to death.”
A ghost of a smile played at Sam’s lips. “That’s my Bella—always making a habit of trying to save my life.” His eyes closed, and he slumped forward, knocking into her with a heavy thud.
“Sam!” Fear sticking in her throat, she attempted to shake him back into consciousness, but he remained lifeless.
Oh goddess. He couldn’t die on her. The very real possibility of that happening sprung a helpless sob from her. Hugging Sam tight to her, she screamed at Cass to hurry.
In the end, Sam got his wish about not involving the human authorities. Instead, a group of reapers that Cass referred to as the Death Doctors showed up and carried Sam to one of the bedrooms on the second floor of Pricilla’s mansion. Desperately trying not to dwell on the Death part of their title, Marabella rushed up the stairs after them.
When they reached the room they intended to use, one of the lab-coat-garbed reapers turned to face Marabella. “You’ll have to wait outside.”
“No. I want to be with him.”
Without saying another word, the young reaper pressed two fingers to Marabella’s shoulder. An odd dizziness descended on her, and she fell to her knees, unable to move. Helpless, she watched the reaper shut the door. A distinct click announced he’d locked her out. The strange paralysis seizing her limbs broke, and she slumped forward, sobs racking her body.
Cass appeared a moment later. Joining Marabella on the floor, she wrapped her arms around her. “He’ll be all right.”
“H-he has to be. I can’t lose him.” Her eyes waterlogged, she stared at the door.
And waited.
