She petted the grass next to her. “What else is there? If there’s not this?”
Dean shrugged and tried to figure out where he’d get his mother some blood, short of killing someone. So much was unknown. Would he ever see Jason again? With a whole army around Seriana, how would he save her?
Violent stood. “I think I’ll kill all the humans. That’ll fix it.”
Dean had been letting Violent’s craziness roll off of him, but her words seemed louder now that he was so despondent. He whirled on her. “You did this. You ruined the world. How dare you think a minion could play house on Earth? You shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t be here. You know your long-lost love? He would’ve married a nice girl, painted her pictures. They would’ve had babies that didn’t eat people. Your solution is pillaging the world you’ve already shit on? How about you do us all a favor and go back to Hell where you belong?”
He shook his head. It was harsh, but it was how he felt. Maybe he could steal some blood from a hospital for his mother. He leaned down and lifted her into his arms. “Don’t forget, Seriana included you in her demands to Vittorio,” he told Violent. “Some thanks killing everyone would be. She’ll be real happy she made sure you were protected. Do you even feel anything anymore, Violent? Selfish bitch. If you really loved him, you would’ve let him be.”
He started toward the lights he could see in the distance. Her footfalls were scarcely audible, but she followed him. When Violent finally walked next to him, stride for stride, Dean’s explosive anger had subsided, replaced by planning in his head. As long as he was alive, he’d work to save Jason and Seriana. That’s what big brothers did.
“I don’t think he would’ve found another woman.” Her voice was quiet. For a being so freaking old, she was as single-minded as a toddler. Maybe love had returned her to factory settings. “I ruined him in his dreams,” she continued. “No human would compare.”
She stared at him, even though they walked at a good clip. He ignored her.
“My love destroyed this whole world—will destroy this whole world. I don’t know why I thought love would make things better. I should never have believed.”
He was silent for a long while before he spoke. Violent’s words made him think of Emma. She was so set on reassuring them that God loved them. She said love should make them see that their lives were tough, but worth living. This, in turn, meant that Violent was loved too. “Love never leaves,” he told her. “So what will you do with the love you still have for him?” He finally looked into her crazy purple eyes.
She gasped. “I don’t understand.”
“As long as you love him, he’s still here. That’s what an angel said once.” Dean pictured the scene he’d stumbled on when Emma had comforted Seriana late one night. Violent stepped in front of him, and he stopped.
“I’ll take direction from you. Instead of killing everyone. For now.” She bowed low.
“Really? Why the change of heart?” Dean stepped around her and kept walking, cuddling his mother’s frail body to his chest.
“Because you care for your whelp mates and this bitch that birthed you. I think Giovanni would want that.” She seemed as resolute as she ever got. “Your mother needs blood, yet we’re passing the humans by. Shall I get a few for her to feast on?” Violent asked the question like she was offering hors d’oeuvres to a guest.
“My mother never wanted to hurt humans. I won’t force that on her while she has no control.” He stepped up his pace as his mother moaned.
“Well, what’s your plan?” Violent went from desolate to interested so quickly.
“I’m going to steal blood from the hospital. Then find my family.”
Violent made a face. “That’ll keep her alive, but fresh from the body is much better for her.” She’d raised Lord knows how many half-breeds, and about this she was possibly the only expert. “How about a newly dead? The blood is still warm and fragrant, but no moral consequences.” She smiled broadly.
“We don’t have time to wait for that exact circumstance.” He watched her carefully, not knowing how long Violent might remain affable.
“People are dying all the time! They’re helpless little morsels,” she assured him. “I’ll be right back.” Violent took off running.
Dean shook his head and yelled after her. “Don’t kill anyone!”
Chapter 21
Jack followed the familiar path to his lair, scouting for minions where he knew they should be stationed. Soon enough he found that most had left their positions. Unchallenged, his mind wandered to wondering exactly what he’d been granted in Lucy’s lip-lock bag of tricks. He shivered as he thought of the power kiss. Awkward, but effective. He just wasn’t sure how effective. Regardless, Kate would never let him live it down. He wished her luck in his head. Her spunk reminded him of Emma.
Emma.
He’d never expected to make it this far. But to actually lay eyes on her, to hold her and save her from Everett, that would be a gift. He exhaled as he passed the entryway where the souls come down to be judged. There were tons of them, just hanging in midair. A few were huddled in corners of the hallways, confused. Jack scoffed. It was just flat-out cruel to make them wait to understand. The souls deserved to be sorted, to know what was coming and how their life had ended.
Some called out to him as he passed, but he ignored them. He had no time. Everett had to be close, and he assumed Emma would be in his chambers. He closed his eyes as anger and worry washed over him. It’d been weeks. His angel would be so broken now. Even a half-wit like Everett could use the Devil’s most basic skills to render a soul useless, empty.
He broke into a light, quiet jog until he reached his own front door. There should’ve been a better plan, but he just wanted to bust it down and fight. He kicked the doorknob, but the door wouldn’t budge. As he trotted back a ways to give his old boot a running start for another blow, he heard her voice behind him.
“You bastard. How dare you? Of all the things…”
Jack whipped his head around so fast he made himself dizzy. There was the hallway he’d created, and there was Emma, staring at him with tremendous hate. Emma was here, alive, coherent, and feisty. He dropped his weapons. He put a hand against the wall to steady himself. Emma was alive.
“Forget it. You might as well go back in there and whack off—preferably with a cactus, wankero.” She crossed her arms and leveled a venomous look at him.
He staggered toward her. The gate was engaged, and he started to piece it together. Everett had tossed Emma in the hallway, and somehow the gate had dropped. She was in the trap he’d designed to keep her in the hallway on the off, off, off chance she escaped his lair, but she was also protected from Everett. He had her all tarted up in a cheesy French maid costume, but she looked healthy and clean. Relief flooded him. If he could just get her out, she could make it. If she was angry, she was thinking and feeling. She wasn’t empty.
Holy fuck she was beautiful—is beautiful, he amended. All this time he’d remembered her scent, her smile, the way his insides hummed when she said his name, when she said she loved him, but he’d forgotten how stunning she was. Long blond hair, stormy gray eyes, soft skin. The slope of her nose was perfect, her rose-tinted lips were the exact color of a kiss.
“Hey, pretty child. You’re a sight for sore fucking eyes.” Jack approached the cage, afraid she might disappear.
“Don’t call me that. And don’t think you could ever pretend to be him.” She took a step back as he got closer.
She should be in a plague, hunched over and dying from the inside out. Instead she lifted her chin in defiance, even if she was confused.
“Listen, most sexy angel, I don’t have a lot of time right now. I just want to get you out of here. You can tear me a new one when we get up top.” Jack tried not to feel the crushing disappointment of this bittersweet moment. He wanted to kiss her hard, sweep her behind him, and growl at the world. Instead it was all business, and she didn’t even believe he w
as himself. “Just go over to the panel. I’ll give you the code, and we’ll make tracks.”
She shut her eyes like his words were knives. “Screw you. I’ll never open that gate. Everett, you crazy bastard, Jack doesn’t even remember me. So take off his face. You don’t fool me, and you sure as shit aren’t fit to wear it.” She opened her eyes and very deliberately looked above his head in abject disinterest.
“I love when you curse. Don’t ever stop.” He stepped as close as he could and reached his hand through the bars, fingers brushing against the first plague. Softly he added, “I’m not him. He’s not this clever. What can I say to convince you?”
She looked wary. “Nothing. I set it up so Jack was free to be a good man.”
“You tried. I remember you taking the punishment. It plays on a loop in my head. It’s all I have.” He tried using their last promises to each other to win her over.
“Everett heard that.” She took a step closer to him.
“Yes, he did. But would he know that when you pictured me in the pause you put me in sunshine? Did he know you tossed your sundress above your head, and it caught in the trees? Does he know you’re the most stubborn, beautiful, selfless girl that I love?” His voice broke with emotion. He swallowed it. “Does he know that?”
With every question she stepped closer. He watched her body for evidence of plagues, but nothing made her twitch, and he was grateful. Jack tossed his weapon on the ground and pushed his other arm into the cage. Both arms opened for her.
“If this is a trick, it’s the worst one.” She had hope in her eyes.
“I wouldn’t trick you. What can I do to ease your mind?” He wanted to feel her in his arms. He needed her free to keep her safe.
“The smoke. It hates him.”
She was almost in his reach. He could smell her clean hair when she flicked it off her shoulder in a nervous gesture.
Jack clicked his tongue once. The smoke seeped through the cracks in the chamber door and flooded toward him. He staggered a bit as it hit him in the back, surrounding him. It made happy little hurricanes around him.
She started to smile, but she was hazy through his translucent pet.
“Show her how I feel,” he snapped, and his smoke created a flashing, always-changing show for her. There was a heart shape, a rose, the intertwined symbol of eternity. Then it shifted into a giant, realistic penis, followed by breasts. “A little too much,” he snapped again.
“It’s you!” She took the few short steps at a run. They struggled to get a hold on each other through the bars.
Jack gathered her against him, metal pressing into his skin. “Emma.”
He kissed her cheek and dug his hands into her hair, then skimmed his fingers down her back to give her a proper hug.
They sighed together. Such contentment, Jack had never known. Here, in this damned place, he cradled the most fragile thing. “My love.”
She pulled her face away from his and threaded her hands under where his hair was bound from his face. Hungrily she looked at every inch of him, then found his eyes. “Jack, you were supposed to forget. You’ve got to get out of here.”
She was trying to chastise him, but her smile made her words a welcome.
“I told you I’d find you. I’d fight dragons for you—forsake everyone, trick the world, anything.” Jack leaned toward Emma, and she looked back now with no fear in her eyes.
“Kiss me,” she said.
Emma watched the victory in his deep brown eyes. Him. Jack. He was here to save her, and damn it, she was totally ready to be saved. She put her face next to the bars and pushed her lips forward, but they managed only to flutter against Jack’s. She pulled away, laughing, and laughed harder when she saw Jack with his lips also extended—looking more like a camel or fish than the rush of lusty endorphins he usually was.
“Stupidest kiss ever,” she declared.
His eyes popped open, and he chuckled. “I owe you a good, wet one. What’s up with this? Why are you okay? Get over to the panel, and I’ll give you the code.”
She shook her head. “Where God walked? That’s safe. The panel’s in a plague. Hunger.”
Jack left her reluctantly and made his way down to get a better look. “Well, I can’t reach it. Smoke?”
His smoke seeped through the bars but could not make itself corporeal enough to press any buttons.
“I’ll get there,” Emma said. “Just…encourage me and stuff.” She shook her hands to get the nerves out. It didn’t work.
“Walk close to the edge here, and I’ll push you along if I can. I’m so sorry, Emma.”
“Don’t be. Your little prison has kept him out. He hasn’t had a chance to do anything to me.” She smiled at him, then faced her goal.
“I’m glad.” He murmured, poking a finger through to caress her cheek.
She inhaled the scent of him and tears came to her eyes. “You’re really here. I thought I was alone forever.”
“Never. You’re never alone. I’m here.”
She could tell he was worried. He kept glancing over his shoulder. She stepped out of God’s path and instantly the hunger crippled her. She wanted to eat so badly, and her stomach turned inside itself in a fury of need. Jack’s hand stood guard at her lower back. He pulled it out when the bars blocked him, only to touch her again in her next step. Her focus on his hand became her guiding force, for despite her time on God’s path, the plague tore her apart. Her human body was so weak. Finally, finally she was able to see the control panel.
He couldn’t reach her anymore, but all she needed to do was press the right letters, and then they could be together. She could do it. She focused and pulled her hand to the panel.
“Okay. Great. You okay?” Jack asked. “Never mind. First, type ‘I love dick.’”
With more spare energy, Emma would have rolled her eyes, but instead, she pressed the buttons.
“Now, press twelve, then: Satan rocks.”
The panel beeped, and its screen blinked: Final step, to lift gate, enter code.
Emma looked toward Jack to make sure she’d understand his next, all-important words. She screamed as Everett slammed his face against the bars, and her handsome knight in leather armor slid to the ground.
Chapter 22
Jack felt his legs give out and cursed his own stupidity. He should’ve been watching his back. Instead he’d been enraptured by an angel. Everett kicked him hard, and Jack knew before the impact with the wall that it was going to hurt. As the pain hit, so did a blinding white flash that stole his consciousness.
He woke when his smoke invaded his body and opened his eyes for him. He reflexively breathed his pet out. He took a quick assessment and closed his eyes again, using his eyelashes as a shield. Everett was against the cage yelling at Emma. She’d propped herself up against the panel, enduring hunger still.
“You bitch. Open the door! Punch the buttons, slutbag.”
Emma sounded weak in voice, but strong in conviction. “You bet your sorry ass I’ll open this gate. Then I’m going to kill you.”
Jack almost smiled. He knew she’d never figure out the code, and that was good. She was safe in the cage. As soon as he had Everett where he wanted him, he’d test his Lucifer-given powers.
“The dog whore told me the code was something no one could do in Hell. That give you any hints?”
Jack stifled a smile again. Under other circumstances, it might’ve been comical, Everett and Emma both wanting the same thing, yet denied.
“Well, smell your horrible balls isn’t the answer, then.”
Jack had a feeling Emma was using precious energy to give Everett the finger.
“You know what? I’ll just beat it out of your girlfriend,” he announced.
Jack watched as Everett stomped in his direction and managed to catch his leg as he came in for a kick. Everett flipped backward, and Jack felt his broken ribs knit back together. Okay. At least he was strong enough to push Everett around and to heal.
> Emma began punching buttons on the control pad.
Everett rebounded quickly and gathered the darkness. He bound Jack tightly within it like a straightjacket. This pissed Jack off for numerous reasons, but the worst was that if Everett had figured out how to use the dark as a weapon, Jack might have more of a battle on his hands than he could fight.
Emma could barely see past the hunger. Everett’s stupid hint had whittled the code’s options to, oh, only a few million choices. She tried to focus despite the fact that Jack was now fighting Everett mere feet away. What couldn’t be done in Hell? Pray? No, she’d done that.
Everett recovered from Jack’s last blow. She tried again to tune them out and focus, but tears filled her eyes as Jack grunted in pain. She was so damn close. He was here. He was here. She typed in a word: D-I-E.
Jack hollered, “Don’t you dare press buttons!”
She shook his words out of her ears. The panel beeped:
Denied. Two more tries, sucker.
Emma wasted energy looking for Jack. He was on the floor, face red, with Everett’s muddy foot on his neck.
“Stop! Everett, stop! I’m pressing buttons. I know the answer. I know the code.” Hunger made her words sound raw.
Everett lifted his foot and came close. “Really? What the fuck is it?”
Jack rolled onto his stomach and scrambled toward the guns he’d dropped when he first locked eyes with Emma.
Something that can’t be done in Hell…She wanted to try “happiness,” but she’d felt that when Jack arrived. “Shit.” Hunger threatened to drag her to her knees. She locked them.
“She can’t tell you, cooch waffle,” Jack taunted. “She doesn’t know and will never figure it out. You’re gonna have to beat it out of me.” Jack pointed a huge rifle at Everett’s middle.
Everett turned like an angry bear in a cage. “You know what? That’s a great idea.”
Jack fired the gun, and the walls rattled with the explosion. Emma tried to think. What can’t I do?
Bittersweet Seraphim Page 13
