Grave Decisions (Hellgate Guardians Book 3)

by Ivy Asher

  Flint and Alder are standin’ on either side of me, but Flint’s the one who answers. “Yep. They’re rich enough to buy a new boat every time theirs gets wet,” he tells me with a grin.

  “Damn,” I say, lookin’ at the mansion with awe. It’s huge. Looks like somethin’ out of a regency romance.

  “Welcome to Perdition Estate,” Alder tells me as we start walkin’ toward it.

  “Why don’t y’all have a mansion?” I ask.

  Flint snorts, while Alder looks over at me with a cocked brow. “Something wrong with our house?”

  “Course not,” I say with a shake of my head. “It’s just...well, Delta did alright for herself, what with baggin’ four hot demons and livin’ in a mansion.”

  Now it’s Flint’s turn to arch an eyebrow at me. “Who said they were hot?”

  I lift a shoulder, my eyes skatin’ over the two of them. “Just a guess.”

  “Did you just imply that Delta’s demons are hot because you think we’re hot?” Alder asks me, his lips pullin’ up into a grin.

  I keep my gaze straight ahead. “I may have.”

  The two of them share a look, and I wish so badly that I could know what it is they’re thinkin’, but before I can even attempt a guess, my phone buzzes in my back pocket. I slip it out and see a new message from an unknown number.

  Hey Medley, it’s Bob Grace. I got a new phone number. My old one didn’t seem to be workin’ right. Anyway, how’s about you meet me for dinner tomorrow night?

  A sigh escapes me. “Oh, Bob Grace. Couldn’t catch a hint with a baseball mitt.”

  I start to write out a reply, thinkin’ of how I can let him down easy, but before my thumbs can even start movin’, the phone gets plucked from my grasp.

  “Hey!”

  Alder looks down at the phone with a frown over his gorgeous lavender face, a tic in his chiseled jaw.

  “Bob fucking Grace, again?” Flint grumbles.

  “Yep,” Alder replies. And much to my shock, Alder’s arm winds back, and then he chucks my phone clear across the driveway, where it lands with a wet plop in some kinda bog at the bottom of the slope.

  I turn wide outraged eyes on him. “What the hell was that?”

  Alder looks like he’s even surprised he just did that. Flint snickers.

  “Sorry. It just slipped,” Alder tells me.

  I give him an incredulous look. “You slip on a puddle, you do not slip tossin’ my phone clear across the yard!”

  Alder straightens his shirt and settles me with a look. “Did you want to talk to Bob Grace?”

  “Well, no, but—”

  “Did you want to go out with him?” he challenges, and somethin’ flashes in his eyes that tells me he’s very invested in my answer.

  I roll my eyes. “No, but—”

  “Then forget about Bob Grace,” he interrupts. “We’ll buy you a new phone, and until then, you can use mine to call your parents and do whatever else you need to.”

  “Except for textin’ Bob Grace,” I say dryly.

  Alder’s lip twitches. “Yes, except for that.”

  I should be livid, but I find myself wantin’ to share a smirk with him, because that was a hell of a jealousy reveal. I just can’t help but love it when a man feels possessive.

  “I’m gonna hog your phone and scroll through Instagram for hours,” I threaten. “And I’m callin’ Mama and Daddy whenever I want.”

  The grin he’s tryin’ to suppress breaks through, and damn if that smile doesn’t make me melt. “I think that’s fair.”

  “And when you replace my phone, I want an upgrade.”

  “She ain’t gonna go easy on ya,” Flint says cheerfully.

  “I expect nothing less,” Alder replies.

  “Good,” I say with a nod. “Now let’s go meet these Guardians.”

  We walk across the driveway together, me feelin’ oddly cheerful for a girl whose phone just got ruined.

  The three of us make our way up the steps to the front door of the estate, and then Alder raps his knuckles against the wood. I blow out a breath and try to mentally prepare myself as I smooth down my T-shirt.

  “You nervous?” Flint asks.

  “A little.”

  He surprises me by leanin’ in and pressin’ a kiss against my hair. “Don’t be.”

  I give a single nod, thankful that these two are by my side. I have no idea what to expect or if the Guardians we came to see are even here, but I’m glad Flint and Alder are with me every step of the way.

  Seconds tick by. “Should we knock again?” I ask when we continue to stand on the front steps and the door remains closed.

  “No, that would just make Strut even more difficult,” Alder tells me. “He likes to take his time.”

  “Who the heck is Strut?”

  In answer, the door suddenly swings open, and I gape at a pale, ridiculously tall man. He has such a heavily defined brow that it looks like he lifts weights with it. And those under-eye circles he’s sportin’ could give a raccoon a run for its trash. He’s dressed in a white and black butler’s suit, which only makes his grayish complexion stand out even more.

  “What do you want?” he asks, lookin’ completely bothered to find us standin’ here.

  “Strut, good to see you as always,” Alder says dryly. “We’re here to talk to your bosses.”

  Strut takes another moment to look over us with bored derision before steppin’ aside. “Fine. Second floor, fourth door on the left. Do not track dust into the house.”

  “Wouldn’t dream of it,” Flint says, clappin’ him on the back as he moves aside for us to pass. The male glares at Flint unflinchingly before movin’ his gaze over to me.

  I’m not sayin’ I run a little to catch up to Alder, but...okay, yeah, I do. This butler guy is an asshole. And scary. I definitely wouldn’t wanna find myself in this mansion alone with him, that’s for sure. Especially if I accidentally tracked in any dust.

  As soon as my feet hit the stairs, I start rubber neckin’. The inside of this place is just as pristine and opulent as the outside. There’s an old-world elegance to it, and the size alone leaves me dumbfounded. We could probably pile up every damn trailer in the trailer park, and they would all fit in the space of this mansion. I don’t know how Delta and her Guardians don’t get lost in this place.

  “Well, at least we know they’re here,” Alder muses as he leads the way ahead.

  “Yeah, which means they’ve just been ignoring our calls. Dicks,” Flint says at my side.

  Alder nods in agreement, and I open my mouth to ask how many times they called these Guardians, but at the sound of voices, the words die in my throat.

  “Fuck!” The feminine shout makes all three of us falter on the last steps of the stairway. We share a look as murmurs of more people speakin’ filter into my ears.

  “Should we...wait?” I whisper nervously.

  It sounds like someone is pissed or maybe arguin’. We could be walkin’ in on them at a bad time, and we’re totally unannounced.

  Alder and Flint hesitate a moment.

  “Find who?” someone asks, this time, a different female’s voice.

  “Come on,” Alder murmurs, and the three of us start makin’ our way down the hall. The closer we get to the door, the faster my heart starts beatin’.

  My ears are strainin’ to hear what they’re sayin’, even though I know it’s rude to listen in on someone else’s conversation. But I swear I hear someone say my name. My footsteps stutter a bit, but then the guys start to pick up their pace, and I have to hurry to catch up as chills crawl over my skin.

  “...guess is that Morax is going to go after her just like he did with you.”

  I hear the tail end of those words spoken by the same feminine voice who first shouted, and my worried gaze shifts over to Flint. He reaches down and gives my hand a comfortin’ squeeze.

  As soon as we reach the room where the voices are comin’ from, I hear, “What the fuck, Nefta?”

/>   The three of us stop in the open doorway, and I suddenly feel so damn country standin’ here in their mansion in my frayed shorts and sneakers, purposely eavesdroppin’.

  Alder and Flint don’t look awkward or nervous though. Nope, they look pissed. “Yes, what the fuck is exactly what we were thinking too,” Alder says, makin’ everyone in the room jerk around at the sound of his voice.

  A girl around my age with bright violet hair and matchin’ wings spins around, her gray eyes sweepin’ over us. She’s got four hot-as-sin demons standin’ around her. My guess is that this is the famous Delta.

  “Alder, what are you doing here?” a large blue demon with horns asks as he takes a step toward us.

  Alder answers, but I don’t hear what he says, because my eyes are fixed on Probably-Delta’s face. There’s somethin’ strangely familiar about her.

  “Who are you?” she asks curiously, starin’ straight at me.

  I swallow and then give an awkward wave, because I don’t know what the hell else to do, and I’m feelin’ a little guilty for bargin’ in here like this with no warnin’. “Umm. I’m Medley Bell.”

  The moment my words come out, it’s like I dropped a bomb in the middle of their rich room. Every single one of them flinches, and Probably-Delta’s face drains of all color as she gapes at me like she’s starin’ at a ghost. “Holy fuck.”

  “No fucking way,” a blond guy next to her says. He looks pretty human, but then again, so do I. “Did we summon her somehow?” he asks, his features and tone bewildered.

  Probably-Delta just looks stunned. She has her hands over her mouth like she’s tryin’ to hold her surprise in for some reason. I look over to find a too-beautiful-for-his-own-good lookin’ demon with blond wings and a scowl. He looks ready to pitch a duck fit. His gray eyes are enraged, but they’re not aimed at me. They’re aimed at another beautiful woman in the room with rich purple eyes, royal purple hair, and wings the color of the amethyst my mama wears around her neck.

  A shiver runs up my spine at the way she’s lookin’ at me. At the way they’re all lookin’ at me.

  “Well, if you’d returned any of my phone calls, you’d know what was happening, Rafferty,” Alder says to the blue demon. “What the fuck has been going on?” he demands, angry as all get out. “Why haven’t you called?”

  “Alder, you don’t understand. We’ve been dealing with a lot here,” Rafferty begins.

  “No,” Flint interrupts. “You don’t understand. We heard you assholes on our way up. You left us in the dark when we should’ve been warned about a threat. Medley was almost taken twice, and y’all knew this whole time that this Morax prick was out there hunting her,” he growls.

  “Now wait a minute,” a big black demon with fiery hair and eyes cuts in. “We just found out about her three fucking seconds ago,” he defends, those flame-filled eyes cuttin’ over to me. “We had no idea that she was out there, or we would have tracked her down and kept her safe.”

  “Oh, so you think you can keep all the Gatekeepers for yourself, Jerif, is that it?” Flint accuses with a pissed off sneer.

  “What?” the large lava lookin’ guy asks irritably, steppin’ closer to us.

  Flint and Alder both move in front of me protectively. Flint’s skin has taken on that darker tone that happens when he goes all indestructible, and Alder’s plucked a flower from behind his ear and holds it ready in his hand. The move should be innocent, silly even, but it’s not. I don’t know what the hell he can do with that flower, but I instinctively know it’s nothin’ good.

  I thought these other Gate Guardians we were visitin’ were friends, but from the way Alder and Flint just reacted, I think I might have missed somethin’. Not one to be unprepared, I open my hand and call my scythe. If this leads to a fight, I don’t want to be caught off guard.

  The wood and metal staff appears in my hand as the arguin’ escalates, and both blades pop out with a shink sound. I have no idea what’s goin’ on, but if Alder and Flint are ready to go, I will be too.

  The sound of my scythe openin’ up makes everyone suddenly go quiet. Alder and Flint turn to me in question, and I see Probably-Delta’s brow furrow.

  My nerves spike as my grip tightens around the staff. I’m half expectin’ someone to retaliate against me for callin’ to my weapon, but instead, Probably-Delta steps forward. “How’d you do that? I can never get mine to cooperate that easy,” she tells me, her bright purple wings twitchin’ behind her like they want to know the answer too.

  My brows pull together in confusion, and I watch as she holds her hand out and concentrates on her palm. Her eyebrows dip down as she stares at her hand, and her lips purse as she puts everythin’ she has into it.

  Nothin’ happens.

  She lets out an exasperated huff. “See? The Queen of Hearts has a mind of her own,” she tells me with exasperation, but I have no idea what that means.

  “Umm…”

  All at once, everyone seems to start talkin’. If I had to guess, I’d say standin’ beside Probably-Delta is another one of her Guardians. He has black eyes and pale skin, and he seems to be pettin’ her with his magical demon shadows in a real friendly manner. I stare at what appears to be a comfortin’ stroke down her side before the dark shadow moves back to the demon’s arm and settles there like it’s once again just ink in his skin.

  Well, that’s pretty cool. I nudge Alder in his side and mutter to him. “Why don’t your tattoos move?” I ask, eyein’ his multi-colored blooms. He gives me a dry, exasperated look, so I shrug. It was just a question.

  Wait a minute.

  “Purple wings,” I blurt out in a hurried whisper.

  Flint and Alder frown. “What?”

  Purple wings was their damn secret password for my parents. I thought it had to do with my biological mother, but now that I’m staring at Delta’s purple wings, I’m second guessing my assumption. Jealousy burns inside me at the idea of them choosin’ Delta’s wings as their chosen security phrase. I mean, she is beautiful, but how many demons can that girl really handle? It’s downright gluttonous if you ask me.

  A voice cuts through the room. “Everyone stop,” the woman with the amethyst wings shouts as she steps between my demons and everyone else.

  “Don’t tell us to stop. You stop,” the blond demon with matchin’ blond wings inserts. He throws his arms up in clear aggravation. “You’ve been keeping things from us, Nefta, and it stops now,” he thunders. “By the powers of Hell, if I have to force every last truth out of you myself, I will!”

  “I’d like to see you try, Tazreel,” Nefta growls right back.

  “Okay, that’s enough,” Probably-Delta announces, cuttin’ in between them. “You both get a time out until you can remember that the world doesn’t revolve around you and there are bigger issues that need to be addressed.”

  Her scythe suddenly pops into her hand, and she squeaks in surprise and then groans. She looks over at me. “See? A complete mind of her own,” she repeats.

  Tazreel, the blond winged demon, opens his mouth to say somethin’, but Probably-Delta turns to him. “I don’t want to hear it, Taz. You can fight with each other later, but right now, we need to figure shit out,” she scolds him, and surprisingly, he backs down.

  “Delta, you’re a pain in my ass,” he mutters.

  Ha! I was right. She is Delta.

  She ignores his comment. “And you,” Delta barks as she points her scythe at Nefta. “Tazreel is right. You need to start telling us the whole truth, and you need to start now. No more leaving vital information out. Maybe you had your reasons to give us up back then, but the cat’s out of the bag now, and you keeping secrets is cutting our legs out from under us.”

  “Don’t you point your scythe at me, young lady,” Nefta snaps at her, amethyst wings flarin’.

  “Don’t you give me a reason to, Mother Dearest,” Delta snarks back, and then my world suddenly starts to spin.

  Purple wings.

  My flare of j
ealousy before blinded me from a very important fact. Nefta has purple wings too. Nefta, who Delta just called Mother Dearest.

  Delta’s words swirl in my mind. Maybe you had your reasons to give us up. I shake my head to clear it as the words go round and round. Then my mama’s voice sounds off in my head, tellin’ me the story of how she and Daddy found me.

  “A flash of purple caught my eye, and I looked to see what it could be. That’s when I saw her. The most beautiful thing I’d ever seen, an angel with purple wings.” She holds her necklace up for me to see the amethyst stone glinting in the sunlight. “She was kissin’ you on the head. Then she up and disappeared, and there you were, just sittin on our stoop, a gift from the Heavens above.”

  I suck a breath in through my teeth as my heart pounds in my chest. I hear Flint and Alder tryin’ to talk to me, but I can’t grab onto what they’re sayin’ amidst the storm brewin’ in my head.

  I look up, my questionin’ eyes landin’ on Nefta, and I can tell by the guilty look on her face that I’m right. It’s her. She’s the angel that left me on my mama and daddy’s porch steps. And if she’s also Delta’s mother, then that means…

  My bewildered gaze snaps to Delta. She looks concerned, probably because I’m makin’ some kind of funny noise as I try and fail to pull air into my lungs. I can’t breathe. Can’t. Breathe.

  I grip my scythe like it’s a lifeline as my demons jump closer, grabbin’ my arms as I feel myself teeter, but my eyes are locked on Delta’s. Because hers are gray. The same exact shade as mine.

  My head swoons. The last thing I think before I pass out is, well, shit.

  I didn’t see this comin’.

  22

  “Set her here,” a deep voice instructs, and I feel myself bein’ carried and set down on somethin’ soft.

  “Is she okay?” Delta asks, and I hear Alder tellin’ everyone to give me some room and to get a cold cloth for my head.

  “You tell the girl she’s a demon and she doesn’t even so much as flinch, but five minutes with this group, and she goes down like a sack of potatoes,” Flint growls out, his tone accusatory.