Grave Decisions (Hellgate Guardians Book 3)

by Ivy Asher

  “Alder…” Flint warns. “Don’t overwhelm her.”

  “No, it’s alright. I wanna know,” I insist. “Do you really think it could be my purpose? To guard a damn Gate to Hell?” Then I remember somethin’ else they said before. “Is this about that other woman you were tellin’ me about? What was her name?”

  “Delta,” they both reply.

  I get a little caught off guard at their quick response. Is it just me, or did they both answer that way too quickly? Are they...involved with this Delta? I mean, they said they didn’t have mates, but that didn’t address all the foolin’ around that goes on in life before you settle down, I guess.

  I blink at my own train of thought and... Was that jealousy I was just feelin’ in the back of my throat? Well, ain’t that just absurd. I’ve known them for all of a day. Then again, I always did crush on the bad boys. I guess a couple of demons are me graduatin’ up to the next level, and there ain’t no doubt about it, I am crushin’ on them hard.

  “Yes. Delta was called to the Gate just like we think you’ve been. She became a Guardian,” Alder tells me.

  “Yep, it was really something. Such a fragile-looking thing. You remind me of her, actually,” Flint says, lookin’ at me with contemplation. “Both slight but feisty. You should’ve seen her go when it was crunch time. She helped us with our Gate once while they came to visit. It was a thing of beauty,” Flint explains, his eyes faraway and lost in the memory.

  I might not be the best people-reader, but I’d bet my panties that I just heard longin’ in his voice. Irritation climbs up my stomach and lodges itself somewhere in my chest.

  “Well, if this Delta is so perfect, why can’t she help you guard your Gate?” I ask, aimin’ for an innocent, inquisitive tone but landin’ square on testy instead.

  I pause for a moment, judgin’ myself. I don’t know these two or this Delta girl. What do I care if Flint has a crush and they both keep comparin’ me to her? Yeah, we’re flirtin’, but maybe that’s just in their nature. And yeah, maybe it’s a little insultin’ and difficult not to feel like sloppy Hellgate seconds, but I have more important things to focus on. Like figurin’ out how to live my best demon life...and maybe huntin’ down a certain mystery demon named Delta and introducin’ her to my tribulations. Kiddin’. Kinda.

  Alder looks over at me. “Are you alright? You seem agitated.”

  My spine stiffens. “I’m not agitated, I’m just thirsty,” I reply tartly.

  He watches me for a moment, and his mouth lifts into a knowin’ smile, and his eyes glint with amusement. “Delta stays with her Guardians at their Hellgate, Medley. They ran into a little trouble in Hell not too long ago, but apparently, it all got sorted, and they’ve developed quite the connection, if you catch my drift,” he tells me.

  I frown as I take in what he’s tellin’ me.

  “Yep, they’re all head over heels for each other. You can’t swing a cat without hitting the sexual tension around that quint,” Flint adds.

  Quint?

  “Wait. You mean she’s gettin’ down with…” I trail off, just in case I’m way off the mark.

  “That’s correct. There were four Guardians already inducted to their Gate. Delta was the fifth,” Alder states, watchin’ me carefully, like he wants to gauge how I’ll take this information.

  “So she’s...and they’re…” I swallow, not sure how to ask the next part or what I even might want the answer to be. “Is that typical? That a Gate’s Guardians all...you know…” Is my voice higher-pitched than usual?

  “Fuck?” Alder asks, his features alight with heat and mirth.

  I blush, which makes me feel stupid, and that only results in even more blushin’ on my end. I try to picture Flint and Alder hookin’ up with each other, but I can’t. I just don’t get the impression that they’re connected in that way.

  Unfortunately, what I realize all too late is that it’s very easy to picture me in all kinds of positions with them, and somethin’ about that has me feelin’ all Goldilocks-ish, because damn, that sexy porridge is just right.

  Flint takes a deep inhale and sighs. “Damn. If that’s not my favorite smell in the whole world...” he observes longingly.

  Alder chuckles deeply, and I breathe in too, tryin’ to scent what it is that has Flint behavin’ all dreamily. I smell swamp and freshly cut grass. Not the best smell, but not the worst either. I shrug, and my irrational jealousy deflates a little as we continue down the path, accompanied only by the sound of cicadas and a breeze in the trees.

  “To answer your question, I don’t know that we can say what’s typical,” Alder tells me. “The Gate has never called females before to guard it. Delta is a first, and if you’re like her, then you’ll be an enigma too.”

  “I think that Delta was drawn not only to the Hellgate but to her Guardians too,” Flint adds. “The fucking between them is a choice, though, Peaches. It’s not part of the job requirement unless you want it to be.”

  I look over at him, expectin’ to see teasin’ flirtatiousness in his features, but instead, I find that he’s lookin’ at me intensely.

  If I am this enigma, are they hopin’ things between us progress like they did with Delta? Or are they worried that’s where it might go? This is all so confusin’.

  They’ve been subtly and not so subtly checkin’ me out, flirtin’, and takin’ my measure, but maybe that’s not because they’re truly interested. Maybe they’re doin’ it because they think they might be stuck with me and they wanna see how this is gonna work. I very well could be readin’ all of this wrong and they’re simply tryin’ to gauge whether or not I’ll suffice with the two of them.

  I look away from Flint, not sure what to think and too wrung out to figure it all out right now, but at least I’m gainin’ more information. That’s about the best I can do at this point. Listen and learn.

  Up ahead, I see the dark shadows of a couple of buildings. One is on a hill across from us, and the other one seems to be the bar. Both are quiet and dark, not a soul in sight. My eyes focus on the unfamiliar buildin’. “What’s that up there?” I ask, changin’ the subject.

  “In there is how we get to Hell,” Flint answers easily, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world to have a Hell entrance practically in his front yard.

  “What are all those small shadows around it?” I ask, squintin’.

  “A graveyard,” Alder replies. “Hallowed ground is a necessity when it comes to housing a Hell portal.”

  “Course it is,” I murmur. I could really use that drink right about now.

  Like he’s readin’ my mind, Flint flashes me another smile. “Don’t worry, Peaches. Almost there. And if we’re going too fast for ya, just let us know.”

  I nod at his words, grateful that they’re willin’ to let me learn at my own pace. The three of us veer away from the hill that takes us to the Gate, and we head toward the dark bar instead. Thank the Lord.

  “So, if I was...drawn to the Hellgate and such, how do we find out if you two are gonna be stuck with me as a coworker?” I try to joke, though it comes out flat. “And how long are y’all assigned this Guardian job, anyway?” I ask.

  Flint traces my features with his eyes, like he’s picked up on my conflicted thoughts. “Forever,” he says, like he’s wishin’ I didn’t ask that question quite yet. “Once you’re a Guardian, you guard the Gate until you die,” he explains.

  My stomach does a belly flop at his answer. “Oh.”

  I’m more than a little taken aback by that information. So if I am what they think, and I’m supposed to help them guard the Gate, then that means I’m tied to this place and to them, forever?

  Why do I suddenly feel like I’m on a first date and the nice guy I’m just gettin’ to know has gone off the rails and asked me to marry him, bent knee, ring, and all?

  This is all movin’ just a little too fast.

  There’s a part of me that likes it. I can’t deny that. I mean, I just got swept off my fee
t and shown an entirely new side to this world that I never knew existed. It’s excitin’ and it feels right in my soul, and it makes me feel less...alone.

  But then there’s another part of me that’s like, hold the phone there, buddy boy, we just met! And that part kinda wants to tuck tail and run back home to Mama and Daddy and pretend this all isn’t real.

  “To answer your question,” Alder starts, interruptin’ my polarizin’ thoughts, “we’d have to take you to Hell to confirm our suspicions first. But we’ll be smart about it and take you right to Nihil. That’s what Delta is and what we think you will be too. We’ll talk to the other Guardians about it first to get advice.”

  I swear, if they never mention Delta again in comparison to me, it will be too soon.

  “We’re waiting to hear back from Rafferty or one of her other Guardians to see if they have a better option or more information for us, but we’ll have to wait and see until they get back to us.”

  We all grow quiet as the bar looms closer. Maybe they’re just waitin’ to see what I’ll want answers to next. A thought raises its hand and wiggles in my face like some grade-schooler who can’t wait to be called on.

  “How did y’all get to the club so fast tonight?”

  “We were in the neighborhood,” Flint replies with a sardonic smirk.

  I shoot him a look. “Y’all followed me, didn’t you?”

  “It ain’t as creepy as you’re makin’ it sound, we promise. We could sense demons in that club, and we just wanted to make sure no one messed with you and that you were safe,” he tells me. “We stayed outside until we saw the angels set up a ward over the place and storm inside. That’s when we knew something was wrong and we rushed in.”

  I study him for a moment before blowin’ out a breath. “Well, I’m glad. Who knows where I’d be right now if y’all hadn’t been there?”

  “We’re just sorry we didn’t come in sooner,” Alder tells me, and I can see the worry clear on his face. “But we didn’t want to scare you or smother you with our attention.”

  I’m grateful that they showed up, even though they did follow me. But I can cut them some slack right now, seein’ as how they were right about me bein’ attacked. “Anyway, what happened yesterday?” I venture. “When I was in the bar with y’all. What did I do?” I ask nervously. My tribulations always leave me tangled up in knots with the not knowin’.

  Alder and Flint share a look over my head before Flint answers evenly. “Oh, nothing much. You threatened us a bit. Got a little aggressive. But we managed to talk you down, and then you left to go home. No harm done.”

  The vise that’s been banded around my nerves seems to relent a little bit. “Really?” I ask with obvious relief. “Damn, I’m so glad. My tribulations are usually much worse. I’m glad I didn’t do anythin’ too crazy to y’all.”

  “You did keep yelling at us,” Alder tells me with amusement.

  “What did I say?”

  “I’m Medley Bell, and I will mess you up if you even think about comin’ at me,” he says in his best impression of my Southern accent.

  I choke on an embarrassed laugh. “I did?” I say with a cringe. It’s not nearly as badass as I was hopin’ for, but this is me we’re talkin’ about, so I’m not sure what I expected.

  “You did,” Alder replies with a grin, like he enjoyed my threats very much. With the way Flint behaved earlier, sayin’ my sassy mouth got him hard, maybe they just like an antagonistic woman?

  “Mm-hmm. Many times,” Flint agrees. “You even scared our poor bartender, Mickey, and that son of a bitch is never scared.”

  That probably shouldn’t make me feel better, but it does. I’m both impressed with myself and a little embarrassed that Tribulation Medley seems to be a bad shit talker.

  I probably shouldn’t be too surprised, but this is the first time I’m really gettin’ any insight into one of my episodes. Usually, I have to deal with the aftermath, but everyone is too shook up to give me a rundown of everythin’ I did. It’s not like I could ask, because then people would know I blacked out, or they’d just think that I was givin’ some kind of excuse.

  We finally reach the dilapidated boards of the porch in front of the bar, and Alder walks up and presses his hand against the doorknob. But instead of shovin’ in a key to unlock it like I thought he would, his palm glows yellow, makin’ me flinch back in surprise. “What in the hell?”

  “It’s alright,” Flint tells me. “He’s just deactivating the wards to open it. If we don’t do that, then any damn demon Dick and Dolly will help themselves to our bar while we ain’t here. Think of it as a demon’s security system.”

  “Well, I’ll be,” I reply, just as Alder swings open the door and flips on the light.

  He’s no sooner taken one step into the bar, when he suddenly stops in his tracks, makin’ me run right into his back.

  “What’s the hold up?” Flint asks as I rub my forehead where it connected with a very solid demon spine.

  “Dammit,” I hear Alder curse under his breath before turnin’ over his shoulder to look at Flint. “I thought Mickey was going to clean this place up today?”

  Flint’s lips press into a thin line. “He was supposed to.”

  My eyebrows pull together. “What’s wrong?” I ask just as I sidestep around Alder. Flint tries to grab me, but I slip past them both.

  As soon as I see what Alder’s seein’, I immediately grind to a halt as my jaw drops at the sight before me. The bar I was in just yesterday is a complete and utter disaster.

  Stools sit in piles of splinters on the ground, tables look to be hacked in half. There are gouges in the wall that appear to be evidence of some kind of visit from a feral animal. One of the wine barrels that makes up the bar has huge holes in it, and old wine has leaked out onto the floor. Glass from broken bottles is strewn all over, and the wood floors and bartop have stains from whatever dark liquor sat long enough to soak into the grain.

  I look around in complete awe. What the hell happened?

  The question sits ready on the tip of my tongue, but when I turn to Flint and Alder to voice it, my face falls and the question dies on my lips. Neither one of them are lookin’ around in shock. They aren’t lookin’ like they can’t believe the sight of this place and what appears to be evidence of a Tasmanian devil rippin’ through their bar.

  No, instead, they’re both watchin’ me.

  Their intense eyes are fixed on my reaction, and I sense worry and unease in their gazes. That right there says it all. It’s not some Looney Tunes character that did this. It’s not some mystery break-in or bar fight that tore this place apart.

  It was me.

  Tribulation Medley strikes again.

  13

  “Good Lord,” I exclaim, my gray eyes swoopin’ over the space. Everywhere I look, I catch another hint of destruction, and guilt starts to pace around in my stomach like a worried daddy waitin’ for his daughter to come home from a night out.

  The aftereffects of my tribulations always look a little different. When I was a kid, it was usually cryin’ kids and angry teachers talkin’ about tantrums or backtalk. When I got a little older, violence started to pepper the blackouts. Nothin’ major. Well...except for that one time. But it was all chalked up to anger issues, and I became very good at hidin’ that I didn’t remember a thing.

  Mama helped me find a way to feel them comin’ on. She read and listened to anythin’ she could get her hands on that might help me. We developed a breathin’ technique, and she gave me my necklace. It worked, and by the time I got to college, I hadn’t had an episode in over three years. I thought I’d outgrown them all.

  I was dead wrong.

  I toe some broken glass beneath my boot, emotions and memories bubblin’ up in my gut, before I whirl around on the pair behind me. I look at them with accusation in my eyes as I cross my arms in front of me. I did this, and they tried to hide it from me. “I thought you said you talked me down?”

  Flint
scratches the back of his neck. “Well, we did. Eventually. This was before we managed to.”

  “No harm done. That’s what you said,” I relay to him before I swing my arms around in a circle like a crazy person. “This sure looks like a hell of a lot of harm done to me, Flint!”

  He cringes a bit at my voice, and I’ll admit, I did get up there in octaves, but that’s beside the point.

  “You lied,” I tell them both. “Lyin’ is a sin.”

  Alder chuckles. “Not to us. Demons, remember?”

  I wave a dismissive hand at him. “Don’t pretend like this is no big deal. You should’ve told me.” An ache starts behind my sternum. I feel horrible. I trashed their bar, and for some reason, they’re more worried about how I’m going to take the news rather than be pissed that I’ve made matchsticks out of the interior of their business.

  Alder shrugs, completely unremorseful. “We didn’t want you to feel bad. And it’s not like this is entirely your fault. Besides, it should’ve been cleaned up and put back together by now. We told Mickey to take care of it with the imps. Clearly, he didn’t follow directions.”

  “Mickey is the I am Groot bartender, right?”

  Alder smirks. “Right.”

  “Well, it wasn’t Mickey’s responsibility. Or these...what did you say?”

  “Imps,” he repeats smoothly.

  “Or these imps. Wait...what are imps?” But as soon as the question is out of my mouth, I hold up a hand. “You know what? Never mind. I don’t wanna know right now.”

  I turn around and snap the hair tie off my wrist, and then bundle up my long blonde and green locks up in a high twisty bun on the crown of my head. Walkin’ across the bar, I’m careful not to step on too much glass and spread it all over the place, but there’s nothin’ for it right now. My favorite cowboy boots are probably gonna have to be tossed after this.

  “What are ya doing, Peaches?” Flint asks as I make my way for the hallway in the back.

  “What’s it look like? I’m gonna clean up this mess I caused.”

  Footsteps immediately come after me, but I reach the hallway first. There are four doors, and one is the office that I already saw, so I jiggle the door to another, but that turns out to be a bathroom. I move to the third one, only to find that it’s locked.