Exalted

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Exalted Page 9

by Ella James


  “He told me we could find Cayne here,” Julia said.

  “Why did he bring Cayne here?” Carlin asked. “I asked him, but he did not tell.”

  “I wish I had asked more questions,” Julia confessed. “At the time, I was freaking out.”

  “I think it might be time for that again,” Drew said.

  Julia looked up, and the stormy sky was filled with meteorites—all of which appeared to be headed straight for them.

  Chapter Seventeen

  It had been easier than he'd expected, fooling the Adversary. So easy, in fact, that Cayne was reminded of words his aunt used to tell him: “Pride cometh before a fall.”

  He was pretty sure that came from the Bible. It might have even been about the devil, which made it all the more appropriate.

  Cayne’s ruse hadn’t been painless. He'd had to let his father kick his ass for a long while, beyond what he would have been able to withstand if they had been on earth. He'd had to suffer in other ways, too. But physical pain, mental pain, even emotional pain—he'd dealt with them before, although watching Julia suffer made his heart ache worse than he'd thought possible. But he’d gone through the motions, and he’d given the Adversary what he must have expected: sorrow, anger, denial. He’d tried bargaining, and when that didn’t work, more fighting.

  Cayne had expected it to last longer. He had to measure time in events, and he supposed he'd have to endure a thousand new hells before he was able to even attempt his plan: controlling the power the Adversary was trying to pummel into him.

  Incredibly, the prideful Adversary gave him the keys to the kingdom.

  "This is boring," the devil complained after delivering a particularly brutal beating. "Try to use my power."

  Cayne's heart had skipped a beat, and he batted every errant thought away. "What do you mean?" he'd asked, as evenly as he could.

  "I've given you access to my power. I want to make sure you can use it."

  Cayne had stared at him, and The Adversary laughed. "Use it, boy."

  Cayne didn’t hesitate. He could feel the line that connected him to his father: a thread that had wrapped itself around his stomach, extending outward, like an umbilical cord. In his mind, he'd reached through his skin and tugged, and suddenly he was filled with a roaring fire.

  He'd pushed all of it through his fingers, spraying The Adversary. The devil had laughed, and with a wave of his hand he turned it back on Cayne. It burned, more painful than anything he'd felt in Hell, and Cayne had made a show of giving up.

  He'd asked to see Julia one more time, and when he watched her suffering, it was easy to shed tears, to convince his father that he just wanted it all to end. Cayne was defeated; he had made himself think and feel that he was.

  The Adversary had smiled in triumph. "I knew you'd come to your senses at some point. I want you to enjoy yourself, son. Pass the time until I call on you by making merry."

  The horrible room was gone, and Cayne had found himself in a cave.

  "My grotto," the Adversary had said with a touch of pride. He'd shoved a beautiful woman at Cayne, and she'd offered to tie him, whip him, and do a few other things that didn't interest him.

  He'd sent her on her way and turned his attention to his environment. He was on a distinctly man-made path that cut through dozens of small, water-filled alcoves. He'd only taken a dozen steps when he ran into Meredith—or an apparition that looked like her.

  She wore a puffy emerald gown, her silky black hair was a tangled mess, and she had on lots of makeup. Cayne cursed The Adversary's sense of humor as the apparition ran at him, threw her arms and legs around him, and buried her face in his neck.

  “Cayne!” Her shoulders shook with what he soon realized was crying. “I was so scared! Oh my God, I'm lost and I'm so scared of caves!”

  He frowned down at the apparition's black hair and saw dirt in it. Dirt, and a scrape on the temple. When he put his arms around her back, she felt warm. Real...

  She pulled away with a skeptical look that seemed uniquely Meredith, and inspected his face, reaching out to rub her palm along his stubble. “You are Cayne, aren't you? Same Cayne who loves my BFF?”

  Would the Adversary know that expression? “BFF”?

  “I am.” He pushed her off, and her face fell. Cayne ignored it. “Why are you dressed like that?”

  “ Edan said this was my personal Hell.” Meredith waved at herself and her eyes welled. “I don’t understand what’s wrong, but please don’t leave me. I can’t stand it here alone!”

  Cayne shook his head. “I can’t be sure you’re not something my father cooked up.”

  “You met your dad?” Meredith shivered, then glanced around. “He’s not here, too, is he?”

  Cayne stared at her. “He’s The Adversary.”

  Meredith’s eyes bulged. “He’s the what!”

  He felt some relief. She certainly seemed to be real. “Meredith?” He cocked his head, examining her big, brown eyes and pinkish lips.

  “I told you I'm me!” She grabbed his hand and squeezed. “Now prove to me that you're really Cayne! The Adversary is your father? You're not on the dark side, are you?”

  “No. Hell no.”

  Meredith cracked a smile, and he said, “No.”

  “I'll believe you if you can tell me what Julia's new favorite candy is!” Meredith said.

  “The Aero bar,” Cayne said with a wink. “Mint flavor.”

  “Whew!” She tugged on him, and he almost lost his footing on the rocks. “Now come help me find everybody else!”

  “Everybody else?”

  Meredith nodded. “We’re all here. Julia too.”

  Cayne, feeling dizzy, let Mer grab his hand.

  ***

  For Julia, time seemed warped. After Alexandria, everything seemed shorter. And easier. Like having fireballs rain down on them in the middle of some wheat field. It hardly even bothered her.

  Okay, that wasn't quite true. She'd caught a big piece of burning ash stuff in the side of her head, and her scalp was aching now, and she smelled like burned hair. And okay, maybe that had been a little alarming, but it still didn't compare to Alexandria.

  Carlin's dress had caught on fire, and she had a burn on her thigh, so Drew had had to carry her on his back until Julia got a fireball-free moment to heal her. And, of course, they still hadn't found Meredith, Nathan, or Cayne. But overall, the fireballs hadn't been so bad. They were all still alive, and they had made it to some kind of cave.

  Julia wondered if adrenaline had kicked one of their imaginations into overdrive and they'd simply conjured it, because it seemed to appear out of nowhere. Suddenly they were at a rock formation, and right there on the side of it, partially hidden behind some tall grass, was the mouth of a cave.

  They'd been standing by the entrance for a while, first with Julia healing Drew and Carlin, then with Carlin levitating to check things out from above. Then with them all discussing whether to go inside.

  Julia voted against.

  Caves, tunnels, hallways...not her thing these days. But Drew thought it was worth a shot. He pointed out that, like the mountain in St. Mortiz, it was a rock, so maybe the way in and out of Hell was via rock.

  “I think it's worth a try,” he said.

  Julia wrapped her arms around herself and tried to keep her mind from returning to where it wanted to go: to flashbacks of the bad stuff. Instead of thinking seriously about the topic at hand, her brain kept taking her back to the end of her experience in the pyramid, when she'd finally gotten desperate enough to fight back. When Edan had saved her.

  Why had he done it?

  He seemed a little tamer as a Shade, but still, she wasn't stupid enough to think his intentions were actually honorable. She played with the brittle, burned ends of her hair, nodding along with Drew and Carlin's list of Cave Pros and Cons while trying to think about what Edan might gain from bringing all of them to Hell. Was he trying to win back his demonhood by delivering them to the devil? How wou
ld them being in Hell work to Methuselah and/or The Adversary’s advantage anyway? She was one-hundred percent sure that Methuselah, at least, wanted her in Alexandria.

  Carlin snapped her fingers. “Earth to Julia. Are you with us?”

  She blinked and nodded. “Sorry.”

  Carlin waved her arms around, gesturing at the rocky arch above them. “What do you think about the cave? Does it look familiar? It looks familiar to me.”

  “Maybe it’s being made from your memory,” Drew said. “If so, thanks for coming up with it. Great way to escape falling fireballs. Which are gone now,” he said, looking out over the wheat field. “Wonder why that is.”

  “Who can know the mysteries of Hell,” Carlin said.

  Julia squinted into the cave. There was an obvious path made of neatly arranged stones. She could see maybe twenty or thirty feet of it before the path disappeared into a black abyss that made Julia feel nauseated.

  “Who wants to see the inside?” Carlin asked, as if they had any real choice.

  Drew held up his hand. He cast his concerned gaze on Julia, and she nodded her agreement. If she wanted to find Cayne, they had to go poking around—even if they did risk more horrors.

  The cave's entrance wasn’t actually that big. Maybe the size of an average two-car garage, though with higher, arching ceilings, which were home to frightening stalactites.

  “Are you okay?” Carlin asked, finally catching on to Julia's panted breaths and bloodless face.

  She nodded, because really, what else could she do?

  “Julia.” Drew put his hand on her arm. “If you and Carlin want to wait in the entryway—” he pointed behind them, to the mouth of the cave and the field beyond “—I can look around inside and come right back.”

  And split up? Julia shook her head. “Let’s do it.”

  They followed the path through a series of smaller, more intimate caves, all of which were partially submerged. The water was crystal clear and glowing. It took Julia a second to realize it was lit by spotlights built into the rock.

  “This is not a real cave,” Carlin said. “But you know...it does feel familiar.”

  Julia gritted her teeth, longing to turn and run back to the field.

  Their smooth, rock path was damp, but not too slick. Why would something like this be in Hell, Julia wondered. What was the point of it? Surely The Adversary didn't care if they found shelter from the fireballs. Was it really just random? Whatever The Adversary felt like creating at the moment?

  Julia, Drew, and Carlin moved like a pack of snails, and Julia assumed her friends were also wondering what new horror awaited them. But the deeper they went, the more it looked like nothing scary would be found here. They saw a beach ball floating in one of the lagoons. A few steps later, Julia heard the faint bass boom of what sounded like a hip-hop song. A breeze drifted through the caves, and Julia noticed cool mist flowing from the ceilings.

  “Oh my God,” Carlin said, and Julia froze in terror.

  “Oh no Julia. I'm so sorry,” Carlin exclaimed, clutching her arm. “I think this is The Grotto! The one in California!”

  “What’s The Gr—” Drew began.

  But Julia held up her hand, squinting as she strained her ears. “Does anyone else hear someone screaming?”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Cayne followed Meredith through the caves. Well, she had him by the hand, so he was being dragged. Over the slick rock path that rose between the glowing, clear blue pools. Past kissing couples submerged from the waist-down; every girl, with her arms wrapped around a muscular back that wasn't his, had Julia's wrists, her hands, her dark brown hair spilled over her narrow shoulders. Just when he wasn't sure if he could keep putting one foot in front of the other without grabbing one of the Julias for himself, a tortured scream tore the humid air.

  Meredith turned to him with wide brown eyes. “Oh my God! I think that's Nathan!”

  “Is that a good thing?”

  Last time Cayne had seen the two together, Captain Chosen had been lying in a pool of his own blood at the resort, whose many residents had been displaced or killed because of him. Meredith had left him there, flying away in Cayne's arms so she could meet back up with Julia.

  The deep voice screamed again, and Meredith whirled back around, dropping Cayne's hand as she flew down the damp stone path, her footsteps smacking in the echoing space.

  “Meredith! Wait!”

  “I can't!”

  Groaning, Cayne ran after her. “This could be a trap!”

  “It’s not!”

  He wanted to scream that Julia was the priority, that Nathan was a distraction at best. He wanted to pull his hair out in frustration that came from not knowing if Meredith was real. From not having been able to really talk to her before she bolted.

  He lengthened his strides, so as she turned a corner, he was snapping at her heels—and he heard it as loudly as she did, the wrenching scream that ricocheted through the caves.

  Cayne's bouncing gaze snapped to a form in a corner, curled up in a ball with his arms around his legs. It did appear to be Nathan, from what Cayne could see of him. His face was buried in his up-drawn knees, and he was screaming: the hitching, plaintive wails of a child.

  Cayne knew that sound. He recognized it from his memory. And he knew what Nathan's Hell was.

  Cayne turned away, but the screams still echoed in his ears. Nathan's cries, and over them, Meredith's frantic shouts. “Nathan! Nathan, NATHAN...it's okay! Nathan! I'm here! It's Meredith!”

  Cayne sank to his knees and shut his eyes, curling into himself as his shame manifested in a rush of heat.

  “Nathan, Nathan, Nathan... Shhh. Nathan. It's okay. I won't let anyone hurt you.”

  Flames bloomed around Cayne, The Adversary's hellfire setting his skin alight. As it crackled and burned, he couldn't resist a glance over his shoulder.

  Nathan was heaped in Meredith's arms, and her pretty face was inches from his pale, stark one. Something about the sight made Cayne's chest feel crushed. As Meredith hugged Nathan closer to her, he recognized the painful sensation as want.

  He wanted Julia. Of course he did. But he was surprised at the strength of his desire to have her arms around him. He'd gone most of his life, decades upon decades after his mother's death and the exorcism, without the touch of any other being—and he hadn't longed for it. He hadn't even thought about it.

  Now was different. Julia had made him forget how to live that kind of lonely life.

  As he watched Meredith and Nathan through the blistering orange and red, he wondered what he would do if The Adversary was right about the future. Cayne felt certain he'd die before hurting Julia, but what if the lie he'd told his father in order to avoid being “hollowed out”—that he would kill her, no problem—ended up coming to pass? What if somehow...something changed?

  Meredith's cry sliced through his thoughts, and he looked up to see Nathan charging him.

  He rose to his feet, the hellfire around him crackling as he moved—but Nathan wasn't deterred. Cayne's only thought before the Stained boy crashed into him was that he wouldn't move. There wasn't much point in shielding himself—the pain from the hellfire made him numb to everything else—and he wouldn't hurt Nathan. Not again.

  The boy swatted at him, causing the flames to pop and sizzle. His fist found Cayne's jaw with a loud crack, and Nathan's arm was engulfed.

  The boy was screaming, sobbing, pummeling Cayne with everything he had. It wasn't long until the hellfire had engulfed his whole body; along with his cries of anger, now the Stained boy was roaring in agony.

  Cayne flung him off and, with a mere thought, extinguished the fire surrounding both of them. He was surprised at how easily the Hell power obeyed him.

  Nathan sagged against the rocky wall, bleeding from his nose and panting; gray smoke flowed up off of him as he glared at Cayne.

  “You bastard,” he breathed, and Cayne saw that his cheeks were singed, his brows burned off.

 
Meredith stepped toward him, reaching out like she wanted to touch his painful skin; her hand hovered beside his cheek as her eyes slid over to Cayne.

  Standing there, across from them, made him feel strangely bereft. “You two can go now, if The Adversary sent you. Lesson learned. It's been a good day in Hell. Lots of pain, okay?”

  “You deserve more,” Nathan said.

  “I know that,” Cayne growled.

  “Stop it!” Meredith cried. She looked guiltily at Cayne, and he wondered if she agreed with Nathan—if she thought he deserved more pain. Do I care? Yes, he did.

  “We need to get out of here,” Meredith told Nathan, but his brown eyes were still narrowed on Cayne.

  “You can't love Julia,” the Stained said. “You can't love anyone. You're evil.”

  "I might be, but I do love her."

  “I don't believe it," Nathan whispered. He turned away, his face in his hands. Meredith turned with him, her body close to his, her hand stroking up his back. She tossed a look back at Cayne, one he couldn't interpret, and he told himself there was no way they were real. Why would they be together? Why would they be in Hell?

  He thought of real Julia, of how she said she'd forgiven his past. She had given him a fresh start. He wondered if he'd ever be able to do that, to grant himself that kind of absolute forgiveness, the kind that would keep his guilt from cropping up just in time to take masochistic enjoyment in the sting of the hellfire.

  Maybe if he had a chance to save her. To stop Methuselah's machinations and live with her. Do something good. What would he do, he wondered. What would he be skilled at that was good?

  Maybe nothing. But he was surprised to find he wanted to try.

  Cayne looked back at Meredith and Nathan, and his heart stopped.

  The Adversary must have grown bored, he told himself—very bored. Because at that second, the spitting image of Julia walked around a rocky corner. She wore a polka-dotted bikini, and her hair was down—long, dark hair that shrouded her shoulders like a cloak. Her brown eyes locked with his, widening as her mouth fell open, and Cayne turned away.

 

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