“You know why I’m here.”
Gahn sighed, unfolded his arms, and wrapped his gnarled finger around the bars of the gate. His claws scraped the metal, flecking off rust like sparks. “And you know I can’t let you in.”
“Then send them out.”
Gahn’s brow arched questioningly and the corner of his lip tugged in amusement. “Send who out? I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about.”
Liam approached the gate, his own hands gripping the bars above Gahn’s. His amethyst glare bore into his enemy’s, lighting the demon’s face like a nimbus is the darkness. Holding an unspoken conversation, Liam finally asked, “I don’t think you really want me coming in there, do you?”
Gahn recanted. “Cale and Rhen aren’t here.”
“Haden says otherwise.”
“You can’t trust a word my son says.”
His son? Holy shit, no wonder he was so fucked up!
“He’d stab you in the back just as easily as he’d smile to your face,” Gahn added.
“So you’ve taught him well, then.”
“Apparently, not well enough. You’re still breathing.”
Liam dropped his arms to his sides, palms up, and challenged, “You’re more than welcome to open this gate and try to rectify that.”
Gahn chuckled, letting go of the bars and taking a step back. “As tempting as that offer may be, I think I’ll pass for now. But don’t worry, Liam the Lionhearted. Our time will come.”
“You know, considering you have no ability to regenerate your ranks, I’d think you’d want to use them a bit more judiciously. By sending them after my mortal, you’re signing their death warrant.”
Shrugging, Gahn quipped, “Collateral damage.”
“And your son… Is he collateral damage, as well?”
For the briefest moment, Gahn looked pensive. If Liam didn’t know better, he’d swear that he glimpsed regret in that fallen angel’s eyes.
“My son is dead to me,” Gahn murmured, turning and walking away. He paused, and then added in afterthought, “Oh, and since he sent you here to kill Cale and Rhen, which by the way, I wasn’t lying when I said they’re not here—anymore, did he bother to mention that no angel has ever left Sheol alive?”
***
“Take my hand.”
Haden stretched his arm across the table, palm up, looking as if he actually expected her to do it.
Her heart thundered in her chest, panic twisting like a knife inside her gut. Suddenly, Olivia’s “big plan” to bring Liam back didn’t seem like such a great idea. She hesitated, and Haden’s waiting hand clenched into a fist. The bell above the door chimed, and he glanced over his shoulder as two more demons walked in. One had a white puckered scar running from the corner of his eye that disappeared into his blond goatee. The other had black shoulder-length hair that failed to cover the tattoos running down the side of his neck. Even without the silver stud running through his septum, or the steel bars piercing his brow and lip, Olivia would have recognized them anywhere. Haden muttered another curse under his breath.
Cale and Rhen approached with the lithe grace of deadly predators stalking their prey. As if expertly choreographed, they split off, each flanking one of her sides. The bar fell silent, all except for the occasional hushed whisper confirming what she already knew—she was going to die. Panic climbed up her throat, choking off her air, and her heart slammed inside her chest.
“Call your guardian, Olivia,” Haden snapped in a hushed whisper, and then barked something at the two demons in a language she didn’t understand. They abruptly stopped, looked at each other, and confusion briefly wrinkled Rhen’s brows.
Where was Liam? After all these years, after everything they’d been through together, surely he wouldn’t forsake her now. Fighting back the bitter sting of tears and swallowing past the lump in her throat, she croaked out, “I can’t! It doesn’t work that way!”
“Aw…fuck it,” Haden snarled. With binding speed, he leapt up, grabbed her wrist, and jerked her behind him. Olivia stumbled around the end of the table and crashed into his back. It felt like she’d hit a brick wall, the impact momentarily stunning her.
Using his free arm, Haden grabbed the back of his chair and swung it like a Louisville slugger, slamming it into the side of Rhen’s head. The wood splintered, pieces of shrapnel imbedding into his neck. Blood, black as ink, sprayed from the gash in his throat.
Olivia must have screamed, because her terrified wail rent the air like the blast of a starter gun, sending the bar into a feeding frenzy. Without breaking momentum, Haden dashed for the back exit, dragging her along. “Dammit, where’s your guardian, Olivia?”
“I…I don’t know!” she cried, stumbling behind him.
Behind them, demons were fighting other demons, all of them jockeying to get to her like a horde of vicious animals. Cale and a severely injured Rhen were nearly through the melee. Any second, they’d be on her.
“He’s right here.” Liam’s answering growl blasted through the chaos.
Haden abruptly stopped, and again she slammed into his back. Blocking the exit was Liam—in angelic form. The tops of his white wings arched above his shoulders, his eyes glowing brilliant amethyst. Black ink marred his torn clothes, and blood oozed from a cut on his bottom lip. He’d been fighting—but whom? Cale and Rhen were here.
“It’s about damn time!” Haden snarled. “Where in the hell have you been?” He swung Olivia in front of him and released her arm with a shove, sending her stumbling toward Liam.
“Hell!” Liam shot back, catching her as she crashed into his chest. His arms instantly wrapped around her waist, squeezing her tight. He reached up, protectively cupping the back of her head, pressing her cheek against his chest. The rapid beat of his heart echoed against her ear. The relief of being in his arms nearly buckled her knees. She inhaled a deep, shuddering breath and froze—he smelled like smoke. The sulfurous stench clinging to him burned her nostrils. Oh my God! He’d truly been in Hell!
That explained his absence, but why would he go there? The roar behind them grew louder. Glass shattered, tables crashed, as snarls and growls drew closer. Olivia pulled back far enough to glance over her shoulder in time to see Haden diving into the fray of fist and elbows. The mob’s progression slowed as he held the bulk of them back. Fighting free of the scrimmage, Cale broke loose and charged toward them like a linebacker. It was too late to run.
Shoving her behind him, Liam tensed, tucked his wings tightly against his back, and surged forward, hooking Cale around the waist as they crashed to the floor. Olivia covered her mouth, muffling a scream, as she watched in horror as angel and demon grappled for position. Somewhere during the punches, elbows and rolls, Liam pulled out a dagger and plunged the black opal blade into Cale’s heart.
With Cale lying beneath him, dark shadows began swirling around them, licking toward Liam and then shrinking back as if burned, only to advance once again, seeking to claim their dead. Olivia was so shocked, watching the horrific scene before her, she didn’t see Rhen coming up behind her until it was too late.
When Liam looked back at her, something flashed in his amethyst eyes she’d never seen before—fear. Her name tore from his lips as she caught the briefest glimpse of movement from the corner of her eye. Before she could react, Rhen’s sticky, blood-coated hand seized her throat as something crashed against the side of her temple.
Sharp, stabbing pain tore through Olivia’s head. Her ears rang from the riotous roar of denial tearing from Liam’s throat. Her vision blurred, tunneling into darkness. Her legs buckled and she crumpled to the floor, right before the black hole of unconsciousness sucked her into oblivion.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
“Noooo!” Liam’s roar tore from his throat, his vision narrowed as panic seized his heart. He watched in slow motion as Rhen followed Olivia’s unconscious body to the ground. The moment she hit the floor, he mounted her waist and ripped a knife from his boot cuff. Raising his arm
s over his head, hand over hand, he fisted the knife, preparing to drive it into Olivia’s heart.
Liam leapt off Cale’s lifeless body and dove for Rhen as the knife plunged into Olivia’s chest—too late... Wrapping his forearm around the demon’s bloody throat, he ripped Rhen off Olivia. As they flew back, Liam twisted in mid-air, bringing his hand around Rhen’s head, and jerked savagely, ringing out a bone-splintering crunch. By the time they hit the floor, Rhen was dead and Olivia was lying three feet away in a pool of blood.
Praying he wasn’t too late, Liam dove for her. Kneeling at her side, he briefly glanced up at the encroaching brawl and locked eyes with a stunned Haden.
“What the fuck!” Haden yelled from the fray, dropping his steely gaze to Olivia.
“I’m going to heal her!” Liam jerked the blade from her chest and clamped his hands over the gushing wound. “I don’t have time to get her out of here! Just keep them back!”
“Easier said than done!” Haden yelled over the chaos, cracking a demon with an elbow to the jaw and lobbing another with a sucker punch in the gut. “And since when do I give a shit about helping you?”
“Since if she dies, so do you!” He glanced past Haden and nodded. “Behind you—”
Haden glanced back and ducked as a beer bottle swung toward his head. “You make a convincing argument,” he said, blocking the backswing with his forearm as he jerked the bottle from the demon’s hand and cracked it over the head of another. Still holding onto the broken neck of the bottle, he jabbed it forward, sinking it into the chest of another demon.
As he watched Haden battle to keep the mob at bay, Liam pressed harder against Olivia’s chest, trying to stanch the flow of blood while he drew on energy he didn’t have. Gahn had tried to hold true to his promise that no angel left Sheol alive, and while he had been keeping Liam occupied, he’d dispatched two fallen Ronnin warriors to make sure that didn’t happen. He’d been fighting his way back to the dimensional portal when Olivia’s fear had hit him. He’d tried to trace to her, but couldn’t shift in that world. Sheol was like a dimensional black hole. It was easy to enter and harder than hell to get out.
It’d taken nearly all his energy to fight off the demons and breach the portal. And now, Liam called upon his last reserve, praying there was still enough energy inside him to heal her. He glanced down at Olivia’s pale, lifeless body, her life’s blood slowly oozing between his fingers—warm and sticky. Oh God, please don’t let her die!
Drawing on his energy was like striking flint to stone and hoping an ember caught hold. “Hang on, Olivia. You’ve got to fight!” he encouraged, his voice a broken rasp he no longer recognized. He could feel Olivia’s heartbeat beneath his hands—thready and fast. Her breaths were slow and shallow—too slow. I’m losing her!
Their connection was dimming, her life force flickering like a candle in the wind. “Dammit, Olivia, just hold on!” he yelled, trying to summon his last bit of energy. If he could just send it into her, she’d be healed—even if not completely, then enough to survive this deadly blow. But as the seconds ticked by and the color drained from her beautiful face, Liam knew he was running out of time.
Gut-wrenching panic gripped him as her lips took on that haunting blue pallor and her pulse began to slow. “Olivia!” he cried, kneeling in a pool of blood. The once warm liquid soaked through his pants, gelling as it cooled on the wooden floor. Slower, her pulse beat against his palm until suddenly it stuttered and the rise and fall of her chest abruptly ceased.
“Olivia! Nooo!”
***
This wasn’t the first time she’d died. And since Olivia was no stranger to the experience, she stopped fighting the pull drawing her toward the man standing beside a towering oak in a field of heather. The bell-like blooms colored the ground with shades of purple, gold, red, and blue. The light, floral fragrance wafted over to her, making her want to draw a deep breath and savor the scent, but her chest wouldn’t rise against the invisible weight. She squinted into the sun and shielded her eyes, trying to see who stood off in the distance with a welcoming arm stretched toward her, but she couldn’t make him out through the aureole of light.
Taking a step into the fields, she looked down when her bare feet brushed through the velvety soft heather and saw she was wearing a dress. It was a larger version of her favorite princess dress she’d worn as a child—off-the-shoulder sleeves, breast-hugging bodice, and hip flaring satin.
As she took another step toward the outstretched arm, she heard someone calling her name. Shielding her eyes again, she squinted, trying to see if the call came from the iridescent figure waiting so patiently for her. But the desperation and panic in the voice didn’t match his serenity.
Taking another step through the field, she suddenly realized the pain in her chest was gone—the ache in her heart all but disappeared. The only time it retuned now was when that persistent voice called her name. Each time he spoke, it was like a little jolt of electricity shot into her heart. It hurt, and she wished it would stop.
The breeze suddenly picked up, whipping her hair in her face and tangling her dress around her legs. Clouds rolled in, and the distant rumble of thunder sent a ripple of goose bumps prickling up her arms. She’d always hated storms, ever since she was a child. When lightning cracked in the distance, the ground shook beneath her feet. Olivia looked to the waiting figure for reassurance and found him still standing there with his hand outstretched. Except now, there was a sense of urgency in the way he stood reaching for her.
Where there was once a golden light, shadows now covered his face. The wind began to whip, and cold drops of rain splattered against her bare skin, sending a shiver down her spine. Thunder cracked again, lightning struck, and her name ripped through the field in a desperate plea.
“Run!” the shadowed figure from the tree commanded, stretching his hand out farther. He didn’t move, even though she could clearly hear the desperation in his voice. It was as if he were grounded to that spot.
“Olivia!” the familiar voice yelled, only to be drowned out when thunder struck and the sky split open, releasing a torrent of rain. A bolt of lightning hit the ground beside her feet and Olivia screamed, running toward the now indistinguishable figure. Heather crushed beneath the bare soles of her feet, and the earthy, floral scent pulled deep into her lungs as air rushed in. Sharp, tearing pain pierced her side with each breath of air forced upon her.
Olivia clutched her chest as she ran, the train of her dress tangled in her legs, clinging to her rain-soaked skin. Warm moisture pooled beneath her hand, and when she pulled it back, her palm was coated in crimson. Tears flooded her eyes, making it impossible to see through the unrelenting downpour, but still she ran for the old oak tree.
The pressure on her chest was immense, heavy, suffocating, unrelenting. She pushed on for the safety of that outstretched hand. “Faster!” he yelled, “before it’s too late!”
Before what’s too late? Panic spurred her legs to pump harder. Thunder rolled, electricity lighting the sky in a flickering lightshow. Almost there…
Olivia reached for the outstretched hand. He, too, reached for her. Nearly touching… A blast of lightning lit the sky again, and the face of the stranger flickered before her. Olivia gasped in horror. What at first had appeared to be the vision of an angel was now the gnarled face of a red-eyed demon.
She jerked her arm back, putting on the brakes. Her momentum sent her stumbling forward. Now she realized why the creature hadn’t moved—a three-foot chasm separated them. An enraged snarl rent the air as the beast lunged for her. His long arm extended just beyond the crevasse as she came to an abrupt halt, her bare toes rimming the ledge of the bottomless pit. She tried to scramble back, but the demon’s claws wrapped around her wrist just as a bolt of lightning shot from the sky, striking her chest.
Olivia screamed as the electricity entered her heart—hot, searing pain. The blast tore her from the demon’s grasp, knocking her to the ground, and then everything went
completely black again.
***
Her heart was finally beating again. It’d taken Liam multiple attempts and multiple blasts of energy to restart it. After Olivia had died and their connection flickered out, his grief had consumed him. An energy reserve he hadn’t known existed roared up inside him and he sent pulses of electricity into Olivia’s heart, praying each time it would beat. Every compression of her chest had sent another pulse of blood oozing from her chest, and each breath he breathed into her lungs tasted faintly of…heather?
Where was she? Over and over, he called her, beckoning her back to him. As he fought for her life, Liam knit the wound in her chest closed. With the bleeding stopped, he resumed the chest compressions, breathing and shock routine, refusing to give up, refusing to let her go. As his desperation mounted, it almost felt like she was fighting against him. That was when he’d laid it all on the line and, using every last bit of energy he possessed, placed his hands over her heart and let it flow.
The shock was so great it sent her back arching up. And as it fell to the floor beneath his hands, Olivia’s heart beat once again. Hesitant and weak at first, but as the seconds ticked by and her heart found its rhythm, her pulse grew stronger, steadier, and the blue pallor of her lips turned the most beautiful peach color. Her breaths were the next to come, shallow and guarded. They still smelled of heather, which made no sense at all. The only heather fields he knew of were in… Oh, hell no!
Chapter Forty
“Purgatory? You think she’s trapped in purgatory?”
The Redemption Series Page 68
