“But I don’t like your attitude.” She crossed her arms, not budging a step.
Jesse ran forward and yanked him by the shoulder. “Enough, Swift. Let it go. It's probably all bullshit.”
Swift spoke past him to Prudence. “See what I’ve been putting up with? I'm counting on you to convince him.”
“What door?” she repeated.
“The door linking Hell to Heaven.” Swift started down the stairs again. “It’s hidden in Hell.”
The bait he’d dangled worked. She trotted after him.
When she caught up, he continued his professorial lecture. “It was designed to transport repentant souls. It's why your rescued mother won't release out here. This portal only absorbs the lost. The ones who deserved Heaven at death.”
“And all this was in a Prophecy, which you have obtained. How?”
“Seriously?” He slowed his descent and shook his head at her. “You don’t know any of this?”
“Why would I?”
“You’re the chancellor’s daughter.”
She shrugged. “So?”
“Your pop’s the man who found the scrolls.”
The news hit her like a slap in the face. “Dad?” Dazed, she steadied herself with a hand against the museum’s concrete wall. “He knows?”
“Not exactly. He can’t read them. Only I can. But I told him a good bit. Can you believe he actually threatened me when I told him I wanted to find Heaven’s Door?”
She dropped onto a cold step, recalling her father’s half-assed confession on why he wanted her out of Hell Runners. She didn’t doubt the truth of it, but the more Swift filled in, the more she realized Dad hadn’t been totally honest.
“Well, I let it go on for years, then after—”
“Shut up, dickhead,” Jesse ordered. “Can’t you see she’s upset?” He stooped and stroked her hair. “I’ll take you home. You don’t have to do this. You can walk way.”
“Don't be ridiculous. She's integral to the Prophecy.”
“No, she's not.” The three words bounced gritty off the stolid museum.
All three of them turned toward the new voice.
Her father stepped up until he loomed over Swift. His dark eyes were hard as coal, and his jaw set tight.
“What are you doing here?” Prudence blurted.
“You showed up this morning after months away, then left in a hurry. Jesse’s bike is parked at the curb with two helmets, and you’re not on the roster. You should be more careful around a suspicious man.” Dad turned his sights on Swift. “And you should have listened to Jesse instead of running off.”
“Bollocks. There’s more to our gifts than what the Council permits us to use. It’s sinful not to at least investigate.”
“It's crazy to chase what most likely amounts to a demonic trap.”
“Dad.” She pushed off the step and laid a hand on his forearm. “If there's another way to save more souls, shouldn't we find it? Isn’t it our duty?”
“It’s too dangerous to delve that deeply into Hell.”
“But it's part of a Prophecy, which you discovered. There was a reason for that.”
“No reason. An accident. They appeared years ago while I was on a show-me-Hell mission with Deschamps. One minute the road was clear. The next an old wooden chest sat in the middle of the road. Like a trick. That fact alone doesn't make them viable.”
“Not viable?” Swift stamped a foot and threw his hands in the air. “Open your eyes, Jack. You were meant to find them. Because of Prudence. Deschamps couldn’t even touch the box of scrolls. They disappeared whenever he tried to grab the handles. Only you could bring them topside.”
“All the more reason to suspect the contents. And how do you know about Deschamps?”
“He told me, of course.”
“Of course.” Dad snorted derisively. “The man’s a nuisance. A chronic meddler, even though his one trip into Hell scared him shitless.” He squeezed her shoulders and bore his granite-gray eyes into hers. “I’m ordering you. Stay away from Swift, or you'll be sorry.”
“I'll be sorry?” Her anger boiled like a salted pot. With both her arms, she knocked his hands off her shoulders. “I don’t tolerate threats from anyone. And certainly not you.”
Dad glared at them all. “You forget. I’m still in charge.” He spoke to Jesse. “Once Swift translated the scrolls, I knew he'd shoot off half-cocked. But I relied on you to keep him in check. When you claimed he was lost, I assumed you argued, and you'd chosen the right side. My side. But I never expected you to drag my daughter into this harebrained—”
“No one's dragging anyone anywhere,” Prudence said.
“You're damn right.” Jack turned back on Jesse. “You quit once. You should have stuck to it. I'm cutting you free. Get your shit and move on. I want you off the complex by tomorrow.”
“Dad! No!”
“I'll be out by tonight.” Jesse frowned at her, and his eyes smoked over with a pain so intense it cut straight through to her heart.
“Jesse. Wait!” She started after him, but her father grabbed her arm and pulled her back.
“And you.” He glowered, his face blotched with anger. “You're suspended for two weeks without pay. Then you’ll report to back to research. You won’t be manager—”
“You’re sending me back?” She wasn’t surprised, but hearing it aloud hurt.
“Damn straight. Now take a vacation. Or better yet, submit college applications. It’s not too late to earn your degree.”
“You’re unbelievable.” She wrenched away from him to chase after Jesse, but her partner had moved too fast. The rev of his motorcycle peeling away lit the air. Spinning around, she scanned the grounds.
Swift had disappeared, too.
Her father waited her for at the bottom of the museum steps next to the reflecting pool, his arms crossed over his chest. “Come on. I’ll take you home.”
No. He wouldn’t. Angrier than she’d ever been, she lashed out at her father for the first time in her life. “Whatever happened to the man who taught me how noble it was to save souls?”
“Prudence.”
“No. Really? When did you stop believing in what we do?”
“I told you about the visions,” he said in the same choked voice from that afternoon.
“You’ve never been a coward. I don’t believe you’re hiding from a vision. Visions are warnings, not fact. And this started long before, didn’t it? What aren’t you telling me?” Tears rolled hot over her cheeks. She bent her head to wipe them away.
His arms slipped around her, forcing her into an embrace. “Is it so wrong to want a better life for your daughter? One without impossible choices.”
She looked up at him through bleary eyes. “It’s wrong to choose a life for someone else. It’s wrong to turn your back on other people.”
“Is this about the door? Or about Jesse?” He swallowed hard. “I know how you feel about him. But he's not the man you think he is.”
“And neither are you.” She pushed against his solar plexus, and her father released her. “For your information, if it wasn't for Swift, I wouldn't know anything about Heaven’s Door. Jesse didn’t bring me into this.”
“He didn't tell you?”
“Not a peep. Like you, he’s always trying to protect me when I don't need it.”
“He’s not protecting you, Prudence. He's protecting Swift.”
“Jesse protects everyone. Everyone except himself.” The truth of her statement weighed heavy on her heart, and she fought against more tears. She pinched her ducts hard and scrubbed her face with her cold hands. “You know it’s true.”
“The only thing I know for certain, is you’re not going back in there.”
“If not me,” she snuffled, “then who? Who will the Council elect to send, if not the members of the Prophecy?”
“The Prophecy is bullshit.”
“We don’t know that. How do they rule? Is there going to be a search for Heaven’s Door? Or are th
ey going to keep it secret forever?”
Though his expression remained impassive, a tic pulled at the corner of Dad’s left eye. The one tell he couldn’t overcome. He was about to lie. Again. “The Council—”
“Doesn’t know, do they? You’ve never told them Swift translated the scrolls.”
His silence was answer enough.
The Gates of Hell loomed high behind her father's head. An unfortunate emblem to represent their divine quest, the sight always filled her with a sense of pride and duty. Now more than ever.
Ellie shifted deeper inside of her, the sensation disconcerting, to say the least. She couldn’t harbor the poor mother forever. It wouldn’t be fair to either of them.
The way she saw it, she had two choices. Find Heaven, or release Ellie back into Hell.
“I know you think you know what’s best. But you can’t tell the Council, Prudence,” Dad said, assuming he knew her thoughts. “You’d shut down the entire operation for months. Think of all the souls that will suffer.”
“The souls?” She scoffed. “Don’t worry, Chancellor. I have no intention of tattling on you to the Council,” she spit out and then turned on her sneakered heels to hail a taxi.
She was wrong. There weren’t two choices. Only one.
The honorable one.
But she couldn’t do it alone. She needed her partner. And, like it or not, they needed the son of a bitch who had set this nightmare in motion.
Chapter Eighteen
Sonja McDevitt slapped the bottles of beer on the bar in front of Jesse and Swift.
“Last call.”
“Come on, love. Stay open a little longer. I’ll make it worth your while.” Swift winked at her and dropped his voice a register. “I’ll owe a favor you can collect tonight—your place in, oh say, an hour?”
Her eyes narrowed. “I only let you in because Jesse looks like he crashed his bike.” Though she sounded pissed, a dimple winked from her right cheek. “And somehow a favor for me is always more of a favor for you.”
“Not true. Not true. Sonja.” He placed a hand on his chest. “Sweetheart. As I recall the last time I paid out a favor I—”
She shushed him, shooting a furtive glance at Jesse. “All right. You were attentive.” A blush crept into her mocha-colored cheeks. “But it was months ago. And I haven’t heard from you since.”
“Had to go out of town.” Swift put on the puppy-dog eyes and reached across the bar to stroke her pointed chin with his knuckles. “But I’m back.”
“But I’m not done being mad at you,” she said, backing up and opening the refrigerated case behind her. She selected a carton of longnecks. “Take this. No last round. No overnighter.”
Arching her eyebrows in challenge, she leaned one slim hip against the inside of the bar and angled, so the bare tops of her smooth breasts strained against the buttons on her shirt. Sonja obviously wanted her mind changed.
Quick to read cues, Swift leaned over the polished counter and snagged her by the back of the head. He planted a wet beer kiss on her full mouth that sent her slim tattooed arms limp.
Jesse sprung from his stool and dived over the bar to pluck the six-pack from her hand before it hit the floor.
“Still mad?” He held her in place, fingers raking the ponytail from her ebony hair.
“Work on it,” Sonja replied, shaking her head until her shiny curls spilled down her back.
Slithering sideways over the counter, Swift pinned the barmaid against the beer taps and kissed her deeply.
There hadn't been a woman yet who could resist Swift’s British accent or phony charm.
Except for Prudence.
Pissed she hadn’t flipped off her father and followed him, he’d started feeding his anger with beer the moment he’d hit McDevitt’s door. By now he didn’t need the six-pack, but he dug into his pocket to pay for it all the same.
“Here.” He tossed a ten spot onto the counter and then turned to leave. “And get a room.”
“No need. I'll be ready to go in ten.”
Sonja moaned. “Ten? Seriously?”
“Or twenty. Turn the sign around in the window on your way out.”
Jesse gladly complied, killing the front lights before slamming the door behind him.
Not at all sure about where to go or what he wanted to do, he hopped off the stoop and leaned his butt against it to think.
The correlation between good intentions and the road to Hell proved far too true. After locating Ellie and calling Prudence, he’d started his day on a high note. Then he slept like a winter bear, exhausted and contented for a full eight hours. Refreshed, he’d expected his plan to go off without a hitch.
Had he known in advance all the trouble they’d encounter, he would’ve—well not done a damn thing different. That was the shits of it.
He popped the top on one of the beers from the six-pack and took a long pull.
A pair of high beams barreled toward the barn, blinding him. The vehicle bounced over the pitted lot and then coasted right up to the door.
“We're closed.” He shooed them away with a hand.
The driver ground the gears, and the vehicle stuttered a little forward and then drifted back.
“For shit's sake, hold in the clutch,” he hollered.
Shielding his eyes, he tried to see how many people were inside. More than two drunks and he’d need Swift’s help if they became insistent.
The driver cut the high beams. Vision filled with spots, he rubbed his eyes and then opened them to see his 1976 Ford pickup idling.
“What the hell?” He slammed his beer down on the concrete step. “Who stole my truck?”
The driver’s side door creaked open. “Me,” Prudence squeaked. “And I can’t get it in park. I drive stick, but I hate three-on-the-tree. I’m standing on the brake to keep it from rolling backward.”
“Judas Priest. It won’t roll far.” He stepped onto the running board and pretending to be irritated, nudged her across the bench seat. “What’re you doing here? And why’d you bring my truck instead of the car you know how to drive?” Dropping the five-pack between them, he depressed the clutch and then slammed the shift into gear.
“Less suspicious. I didn’t want anyone to know I was gone. Or follow me, if that sort of thing were on the table. And you swore to be out of the complex by tonight. Which is one of the reasons why I’m here.”
“Princess.” He sliced the air with the plane of his hand. “I'm not going back with you.”
“I didn't expect you would.” She nipped her bottom lip and placed her hand against his chest lightly, like he was too hot to touch.
She was right. He was on fire.
Jesse reached for a fresh longneck he didn’t need for the sole purpose of nudging her hand off him. Twisting off the cap, he sipped. “Why didn’t you come with me tonight?”
“You saw Dad. He pulled me back.”
“Wasn’t really paying attention to him once he cut me loose.”
“Well, you shouldn’t have run off so soon. You missed a good show.” Her thin grin held little humor. “Needless to say, we got into it. It was a short argument. I asked hard questions. Got shitty answers.”
“Disappointed in general or just in your old man?”
Her shoulders slumped, and her head dipped. “Both.”
“I’m working toward numb.” He pinched his beer bottle between his thighs and grabbed another from the carton. He popped the top and passed it to her. “Care to join me?”
“Yeah.”
She took the bottle, her fingertips brushing over his knuckles. The smallest touch reminded him he couldn’t have her, couldn’t pull her in for a comforting hug. He could use some comforting, too. They’d both lost their jobs, jobs that meant the world to them and defined who they were as people.
What a shit storm.
Jesse leaned back until his head rested on the rear window and then drained his beer in one long gush. Dropping the empty into the carton, he reached f
or another but then stopped.
They’d both lost their jobs.
Without employment, Prudence no longer needed to drink Holy Water. All he had to do was wait out the effects. And he’d never have to say those awful words—I was possessed.
“I’m glad I caught you before you left,” she said.
“Seems to be your habit.” He angled toward her, stretching his arm across the back of the seat.
“I was afraid I’d never see or hear from you again.”
Happier than he was a few minutes before, he moved the carton to the floor and scooted closer to her. “You’ve got my cell number. And I’d call. I definitely wanted to see you again. Especially now we don’t have jobs.”
“I didn’t come out here to commiserate.”
She lifted those beautiful eyes to his, and he wanted to melt back into the vinyl seat and pull her on top of him. Someday soon, he’d be able to do exactly that.
“What’s on your mind?”
“We still partners?”
“Pff,” he sniffed. “We’ve got nothing left to partner over.”
“Yes, we do. And I don’t want to be a partner with Swift on my own.”
“Whoa.” He braced, knowing full well what she was going to say. “Do what?”
“It’s imperative we find the Door to Heaven.”
“Prudence.” He sighed and pointed through the windshield at the bar. “That sneaky son of a bitch got under your skin too fast. I don't think—”
“It wasn’t Swift who convinced me.” She held his chin between two fingers. “It was you.”
“It wasn’t me. That’s for damn sure.”
“This is the other thing I was thinking about on the ride over here. I know it rankles like the dickens, but I think Dad firing you was meant to be.”
“Inevitable, yes. Meant to be?” He shook his head. “I’m not a proponent of fate.”
“Either way, you’re free now. No obligations. No rules.”
“What’s your point?”
“We can do this on our own. Dad has never discussed the contents of the scrolls with the Council. He admitted it. They have no idea about Heaven’s Door, hidden somewhere in Hell. And don’t tell me you still deny there’s a door. If you didn’t believe in it, you would have turned Swift in long ago.”
Rule Breakers, Soul Takers (Hell Runners Book 1) Page 20
