by Ella James
It was too much. He hadn't realized how tired he was until that moment, but he was tired from missing her. Weary from worry.
He heard footsteps behind him and begged for mercy. Could she go away? Just disappear? He'd thought that with his promise of compliance, he'd outsmarted the devil into leaving him alone; clearly, he had been wrong.
The footsteps grew louder behind him, and Cayne squeezed his eyes shut. He felt a warm hand on his back and his stomach twisted like a fish floundering out of water.
“Go away,” he groaned. “Please. I can’t stand this anymore. I told you I would do it.”
“Do what?” her sweet voice asked.
Kill you, he thought with sorrow. The hand moved to his shoulder.
“Cayne?” she said. “Are you okay?”
“Please. Leave me alone.”
“Cayne—” The hand tightened. “It’s me. It’s Julia. Why are you acting this way? Why are you...” Her voice broke. “Why are you...ignoring me?”
He wheeled around, throwing off her hand. Julia's beautiful brown eyes were wide and wet, her mouth turned down. Her body in the bathing suit was gorgeous, and he wanted so badly to touch her.
He wanted her...
Alpha in Heaven, how he wanted her...
It was enough to drive him mad.
It hurt so much more than hellfire.
Shaking now, his stomach churning, Cayne tossed his arms out at her, the way one might shoo a stray dog. “Go away and leave me to my misery. Isn’t that the point of this place? I already told you, I'll do it. I love her, but I'll do anything to stop her from suffering." He reached out, grabbing Julia’s shoulder, almost leaning on her, as agony clawed at him. "Until then, can you just leave me be?"
“Cayne?” The word shook. She blinked up at him, and he wanted to crush her to his chest. Instead, he gave her a shove, whirled away, and heard the slip as she lost her footing, and a splash as she fell into one of the pools.
Chapter Nineteen
She surfaced almost instantly, a sleek, dark head, elegant shoulders, kissable breasts. His held his breath, knowing he should back away. If he didn't, The Adversary really was winning this.
He stepped forward, wondering if he helped her out of the water, would she feel like Julia?
Cayne stared down at the slender figure shivering in the water, looking up at him with such confusion. Her perfect face, tight with fear. He couldn’t help himself. He knelt slowly, preparing himself for a puff of smoke and his father's ringing laughter.
She looked up at him through teary eyes, and Cayne couldn’t stop his hands from shooting out. He almost grabbed her. Almost dragged her to his chest. Almost crushed her. But he stopped himself.
He simply lifted her out of the water, sat her on the rocks, and looked around, hoping for a well-placed apparition towel. All he saw was Julia's friends. Lined up against the wall, dressed ridiculously. Looking ragged.
Meredith was twirling her hair around her fingers; the tips of them glittered with feminine nail polish. He remembered how real she'd seemed earlier. She'd told him Julia was here.
He looked at Julia's face, trying to match it up against his memories. He cycled through the lost girl in the warehouse, the nervous girl in the penthouse, the content girl on the train, the angry girl in the Stained compound, the girl who had helped him kill Samyaza. There was no way to know for sure, but he decided he would rather have a few seconds with this Julia than assume she was false.
He crushed her to his chest, pulled his legs around her so his body was sheltering her, warming her.
“Julia.” He buried his face near her throat and hugged her tightly.
Compared to his memory, this Julia was a little too thin, a little too quiet. Cayne gently tucked her hair behind her ear. He brushed his lips against her chin. Her lips trembled, so he pressed his mouth against hers, loving her, wanting her.
And then he figured he had been a fool, because as he kissed her, she writhed under him, trying to break free.
The first sob shredded his heart. She scooted back a little, and he braced himself for her disappearing act. But instead she threw herself at him, and Cayne pulled her onto his lap. His body burned with The Adversary's power, and his skin glowed slightly, like he had a glow-light inside him. She seemed to glow a little, too.
He hugged her hard, again. She groaned a little, and he loosened his grip, looking down at her anguished face.
“God,” he whispered, “it feels so good to hold you...even if you might not be you.”
Her eyes flicked up to his, big and brown and leaking tears. “I am! I'm me! Look, I have burned hair and everything.” She pointed to her head.
He clutched her chin, long fingers stroking. “Forget about that. It doesn't matter anymore. I just need to see you. Any you.”
But she pulled away and shook her head, and someone behind him snapped their fingers.
“Cayne, stop being dense!” He glanced over his shoulder, and Meredith was there, looking like herself. “It's really us! I swear!”
“It's her,” Carlin said, from over Meredith's shoulder. “That is Julia!”
He stroked her hair, and she looked up again. “Remember how you got me that rare steak on our road trip to find Samyaza? I worked myself up and got sick on the Amtrak. Remember that? Remember how stupid I was there? Remember what I told you about group home? Remember how you drained that old guy in Utah and I got upset?”
Cayne felt his body flush hot. So hot. He look down at her, crying in his arms.
“Julia... If it's really you, you have to tell me about...tell me about the exorcism,” he whispered. The Adversary didn't know how it had started. He knew Cayne's memories of the actual event, because Cayne had projected them into his own personal Hell, but he wouldn't have been intimately familiar with the exact scenario of Cayne's turning. He hadn't been paying attention to his son at the time. “Tell me about the exorcism,” he murmured, tucking her hair behind her ear. “How did it start?”
Her eyes filled with tears, and she said, “You got cut with a hatchet. Your leg bled. And then it healed. They noticed.”
“That's right!” He was squeezing her hand now; Julia threw her arms around his neck. “Cayne! Cayne, Cayne.”
He felt warm. Completed. He had to swallow, because his throat felt too full, and he knew that he was glowing, so hot he pulled away, worried he might burst into flames.
“It's okay,” she said. “I kind of glow now, too, sometimes.”
He wrapped his arms around her, bringing her close. He kissed her cheeks, her nose, her neck. He ran his hands down her arms, thrilled to be touching her. Thrilled she'd escaped. Thrilled they were together. He couldn't wait to find out how. How were they here? How and why?
He looked at Julia. “Is there any reason to stay here?”
She blinked, like she didn't understand.
“Julia... Why did you come here?”
Her eyes filled with tears, she started blinking rapidly again, and her face crumpled. “Cayne, didn't you want to see me—”
“YES.” He squeezed her shoulder. “Yes. I wanted you to come. I just can't believe you did. Now we need to get out fast.”
Cayne looked around at the rocky walls of the cave, and he had a wild thought: If The Adversary could control this realm, why couldn't Cayne? He held Julia's hand, and together they walked over to the nearest wall.
If Hell was based on everyone's perceptions, but most of all, The Adversary's... What made the Adversary different? His power, Cayne answered. His unique, Celestial energy. Energy Cayne now shared.
He shut his eyes for a second, and he told himself they were leaving. On the other side of this rock wall, they'd find...the Highlands. A peaceful place in the Highlands. He thought of a hostel he'd once flown over, near Ft. William. Packed with humans, it had looked busy at the time; busy, but not too busy.
Cayne pulled a rock from the wall, blindly believing in his plan, reasoning that his status as The Adversary's son had to
get him something. Believing with all his soul that they could step out of The Abyss and back to Earth if he could just dig a hole in the rock wall.
Shifting Julia behind him, so if a rock fell she wouldn't get hurt, he strained to lift a few more stones away, at first seeing only darkness.
But it wouldn't be dark on the other side of the wall.
It would be green. It would be whatever he wanted.
A few more rocks, and he could feel everyone behind him, murmuring and wondering what he was doing.
Still holding Julia's hand, he moved a final rock, stacking it atop the others, and saw green.
YES!
He stuck his head out, finding himself in the familiar landscape of the Highlands. Without meaning to, he let out a hooting laugh.
“Hell yes. HELL yes.”
He stepped through, pulling Julia behind him. When she saw the landscape, her eyes went wide. “Are you for real?”
He nodded, smiling, and she stuck her head back through.
“You guys, c'mon! This is crazy!” She turned to Cayne. “This isn't Hell, is it?”
“I don't think so.” Against his will, he beamed, and Julia crushed him in a hug.
“OMG, Cayne, have I mentioned how much I missed you?”
Carlin climbed through first, followed by Meredith. “This isn't real,” she insisted.
“It's real! I can feel the real,” Carlin chanted.
Nathan came through behind her, and though he looked skeptical, even he couldn't argue with the absence of that indefinable, weighty, stomach-churning Hell feeling.
Drew confirmed it with a disbelieving laugh. “Cayne, I'm impressed.”
They stood at the base of the massive hills, looking out at a rainbow in the mist.
“Is this really Scotland?” Mer said. “Cayne, you're sure?”
It seemed to be, and suddenly Cayne inhaled the subtle scent of lavender. It was too real not to believe. He grinned, swept by the most wonderful feeling of thankfulness.
Thank you, he said, to no one in particular.
It was the last thought he had before he pulled Julia to his chest and lost his hold on reality.
Chapter Twenty
Julia was aware only of exhaustion. She ached all over, and she wanted to go back to sleep, but something was nagging her into consciousness.
She opened her eyes to plaid. Plaid curtains, pushed to either side of a small window. The room was wood-paneled and small, with a porcelain sink, a small heater, and two slim cots. She was lying flat on her back on scruffy carpet, and her friends were waking up in various spots on the floor beside her.
“Where—” are we, she was going to ask, but she remembered when she spied Cayne, curled over on his side, with his legs partially under the cot across from her. There was stubble over his cheeks and deep black circles under his eyes. She scrambled past Mer and Nathan and touched his shoulder. He moaned.
“Cayne, it’s Julia.” It seemed unreal that he was really here. That they were really together, and out of harm's way—or at least immediate harm's way.
She pressed her palm against his cheek, gently stroking with her fingertips as her other hand found the pulse point in his neck. She was relieved to find a gentle thrum. She stroked his forehead, and his eyes rolled under flickering eyelids. “Cayne, can you talk to me?”
His eyes opened slowly, his gaze taking a second to find hers. Moving stiffly, he pushed himself up on one arm, threw the other around her, and pulled her to his chest. He buried his face in her hair as he drew his legs around her.
“Julia.” His voice was hoarse, his lips warm as they pressed against her throat.
Distantly, she heard Meredith yawn and say, “S.O.S., you guys. The love train has arrived. I'm getting the feeling that it’s time to go.”
Julia heard some grumbling, but she didn't take her eyes off Cayne; she was too worried he would disappear. She touched his bare back, and a shudder ripped through him. She locked her arms around his waist, and he lay back on the floor; she shifted on top of him. He ran his hands over her ribs, traveling under her arms and up her back and neck, into her hair.
She clutched his waist as tears rolled down her cheeks. “I missed you.”
He let out a shuddering breath, and she lifted her head from his chest to find his green eyes wide and red; his face looked anguished.
“I can't believe it's really you,” he murmured.
Something passed across his face, a rippling of some unknown emotion, and he released his grip on her and shifted onto his side, propping his cheek in his hand and staring at the floor.
“Cayne? What's wrong?”
He shook his head, and when he spoke, his voice was thick. “The Nephilim that fathered me... It wasn't a Nephilim. Julia—” he looked up at her with wide eyes— “I’m The Adversary’s son.”
Julia scooted closer to him, pressing her face into his chest. She wrapped her arm around him. “That is kind of weird, but do you think I care?”
“How can I be near you when—”
Julia sat up and shushed him. “It doesn’t matter. You're still you! I found out I might as well be Methuselah's daughter—I'm like, his most potent descendant or something—and even if that wasn't true, you think I'd care who your daddy is?”
Cayne nodded, his eyes somber. She expected him to say more about The Adversary, but instead his body got very still, and in a low, quiet voice, he said, “I saw what he did to you.”
Julia's face felt too hot. Had he really seen it? All of it? She pushed the horrible possibility away, refusing to let herself believe Cayne had seen her in her most pathetic state. “You were in Hell,” she said, evading. “I'm sure that wasn't a beach trip, either.”
“Hell was watching you suffer.” His gentle fingertips stroked her cheek, and Julia ducked her head as tears surfaced. “Julia, I’m so sorry I wasn't there.” He leaned down to kiss her forehead, wrapping his arms around her. A part of her wanted to push him away, to remain alone with the awful memories she had, but more of her wanted his comfort.
She twined her arms around him, and suddenly Cayne was rising, cradling her close as he moved to one of the cots, where he lay her on her side and pressed himself behind her, locking his arm around her waist. “I’m sorry, Julia. I will always be sorry I couldn't find a way to you. That you needed me, and you were alone.”
It was too much. Just too much, after she’d thought she’d never see him again. She pressed her face into a pillow as she sobbed, and Cayne scooted closer behind her, whispering into her hair.
He kissed her hair, a welcome, gentle heat. “My Julia... So strong. Do you know how much I love you?” He pressed his cheek against her head, and Julia felt a little warmer inside. And then she felt ill, because it couldn't be true. It just couldn't be true that Cayne was here, they were together.
Eventually, exhaustion slowed her tears. Her violent crying turned to little gasps, then hiccups. She wanted to hold onto Cayne again, but she was too ashamed to turn her face toward him. She was ashamed of herself, angry at herself—for being such a victim.
What could you have done to take control of things, she asked herself, and the answer was nothing. Which was really even worse. She hadn't acted like a victim; she'd been one. Julia had never let herself be a victim before Alexandria. Even as a grubby foster kid, she’d tried to have some pride, make her own plans for life after she turned eighteen.
She started to cry again, remembering how Edan had had to rescue her from the pyramid. Methuselah was right: He’d freakin’ owned her. She’d been…helpless.
She curled into a ball, and when Cayne started stroking her arm, she jerked it away. She felt him brush her hair, and when she scooted away from him, she felt his hand leave her, then felt the mattress lurch as he got up off the bed. After a minute of pure, undulated self-hatred—heck, everything-hatred—she peeked open an eye and found him standing at the small, wood-framed window, peering out at the sunny day.
She drank in his broad sho
ulders, his muscular back. His arms were folded in front, and she remembered all the other times she's watched his beautiful back as he stood at a window, keeping guard. It was amazing, even after Hell, even after all of this, he was still him.
She said his name, and he turned his head, dark brows arched over green eyes. Julia pulled her exhausted body up off the bed and held out her hand, hoping to beckon him back over before she read the pain in his eyes. She was off the bed with her arms around him in a heartbeat.
He responded sweetly, folding her to his chest, bowing his head protectively over hers.
With her cheek against his pec, she grabbed his hands. Then she looked up into his face.
“I'm sorry I pushed you away. Everything is just...so messed up.” She sniffed, feeling sick at the thought of what Methuselah and the Adversary were planning for them. “I love you, Cayne. We'll find a way to be okay.”
He nodded, but she could see his Adam’s apple bobbing as he struggled to keep whatever he was feeling in.
“I know,” he rasped.
Julia was shocked to see a tear roll down his cheek. He released one of her hands and wiped his face before she could thumb it away.
“What did he tell you? The Adversary?” She struggled to meet his eyes, but they were fixed on something over her head.
His chest rose and fell, and finally he looked her in the eye. “That he’s my father,” he said simply.
“So you're not a Nephilim?”
Cayne shrugged. “The Adversary is a Celestial. A deity, I think, if you want to get official. I don’t know if I’m technically a Nephilim or something else.” He shrugged. “I don’t know if it even matters.”
Julia nodded. She tipped her forehead to his chest, looking down at the ragged jeans that hung from his delectable hips, and the bathing suit that still barely covered her pale ones.
“It doesn’t matter who your father is.” She glanced up at his face, where there was still shame. “You know what Methuselah told me?” Saying his name had made her mouth go dry, but Julia pressed on. “He told me my parents didn’t want me. And I had an aunt who didn’t want me either.”
