Charade (12 page)

Heven was pale.

Her lips were blue.

Do. Not. Die.

I pushed back the panic rising in me and began to administer CPR.

If you cannot breathe, I will breathe for you.

If your heart will not beat, mine will beat harder.

If you do not live, neither will I.

After what seemed like endless hours of CPR, she began to cough. I turned her onto her side and water poured out of her mouth onto the ground.

I wanted to collapse in relief. I ran my hands through my hair and took a deep breath as she coughed and coughed.

My throat burned like I had swallowed acid and my entire body was on fire. I allowed her emotions and her pain to pour over me because I was so thankful she had any to feel. Yes, they were horrible and she felt like hell, but at least she
felt.

“Oh, God, Heven. Thank God.”

When the coughing stopped, I was still afraid to put her on her back. Instead, I climbed over her and lay on the ground, mirroring her position and facing her. I reached out my hand and cupped her head where it was lying on the ground, cradling it, trying to give her some comfort.

Her eyes fluttered open and she stared at me. She was confused and disoriented.

“Shhh. It’s all right, just rest.”

Her eyes closed briefly before opening back up and settling on me.

“Hey. That was scary, huh? It’s all right now, though. It’s over. You’re okay.”

“What happened?” Her voice was raspy and low.

I was stupid. I failed to protect you. I failed to realize that we were being stalked from beneath the water.
I was so angry at myself that I wanted to punch something. I shouldn’t have let down my guard.

“A demon pulled you under the water,” I said, trying to keep my voice gentle.

“I almost drowned.”

“I’m so sorry.” I scooted closer and pushed the wet hair off her face.

“Thanks for pulling me out of the water.”

“How do you feel?” I asked, not wanting to accept her thanks because I felt responsible that it happened at all.

“Okay.” She tried to sit up but she didn’t quite make it that far.

I couldn’t help myself. I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her into my chest.

She relaxed against me and we stayed like that for a long time until the shaking in her muscles stopped and breathing seemed easier for her.

I kept my eyes on the water—how deceiving it could be. It appeared peaceful; it appeared beautiful.

It was good at lying.

I had always liked the water, but damned if I wasn’t beginning to change my mind.

With every ripple in the current, every jump of a fish, I was certain that the demon was going to rise from its watery camouflage and attack.

I would find pleasure in taking away its life.

The longer we sat there, the more paranoid I became. It wasn’t safe. Yes, I could protect us, but I didn’t want to have to. She’d been through enough.

I stood, taking Hev with me and walked to where we left our stuff.

“I can walk,” she said, turning her face to look at me. She seemed alert.

I set her down, keeping an arm around her waist. “We need to go.”

I grabbed up her dress and pulled it over her head and as she finished dressing, I pulled on my T-shirt. I gathered the towels, slinging them over my shoulder, and reached for Heven’s hand.

“I’m okay, Sam.”

“I’m taking you to get something hot for that throat.”

She stopped, seeming to just remember that our Mindbond enabled me to feel her pain. “Oh, Sam. How much of that did you feel?”

She wrapped her arms around me, to comfort me, but I didn’t want it. I deserved to feel this way—to carry this memory with me. Hopefully, it would make me more cautious in the future. And I was going to need that caution.

That demon was unlike anything I had faced.

That was saying something because, over the past few weeks, I had faced-off against a lot of evil and vile creatures. But this one was different. More powerful. I know most people would assume that because this demon had no shape, it was weak. How could it be strong when it wasn’t even capable of holding its own form? But it was just the opposite. Only a truly strong demon could attack—could take a life like that—and
not
hold its shape. It had to have taken effort to appear so unrecognizable. It had effectively made itself unidentifiable to me whenever I should come across it again.

And I would.

Of that I was absolutely certain.

There wasn’t one attribute that I could commit to memory about it. I had been so completely focused on getting Heven out of that water that I scarcely had time to look at it, let alone look for something that would make its identity known.

Well, there wasn’t a physical attribute.

Mentally—I think I would recognize it anywhere. It was
dark
. Darker than anything I had encountered.

“This isn’t your fault,” Heven said, pulling away to stare up at me.

I cut off the noise that rose in the back of my throat and cupped her face in my hands. “I’m glad you’re okay.” The truck was parked beneath a nearby tree. I was glad that this is where we came, to a spot on the lake that no one ever swam at because there wasn’t much of a shore to sit on. I helped Heven into the cab despite her protests and made sure the seat belt was strapped firmly around her. I wasn’t taking any more chances today.

I drove down the dirt road toward the area of the beach where everyone else swam, but just before we got there, movement caught my eye and I slammed on the brakes. My hand shot out and pressed Heven back to keep her from jerking forward. Yes, she was wearing a seatbelt, but it was a reflex that I didn’t bother to stop.

“What?” Heven gasped, but I was busy staring out the windshield.

There was a woman standing in the middle of road.

She was strapped from head to toe with weapons. Very old, deadly looking weapons. But that wasn’t the worst part.

The worst part was that I recognized her.

“She doesn’t have an aura,” Heven murmured.

What could she possibly want and why was she here? I opened up the door and Heven slid across the seats to follow. “Stay in the truck,” I ordered before closing my door in her face.

I will not!
she declared, opening the door and climbing out.

Mentally, I sighed. I got that she didn’t want to take orders from me, but you would think that, after almost drowning, she might be willing to let me handle this.
Haven’t you been through enough today?

Who is that?

“What are you doing here?” I called.

“You know her?” Heven asked.

It’s the woman I got your bracelet from.

She looked down at her empty wrist. I was glad she hadn’t worn it today. The last time she almost drowned, she was wearing it and I had to search the sandy bottom of the lake for it.

“She can’t have it back,” Heven said.

The woman laughed. It was a strong laugh, the laugh of a warrior. Heven and I both turned to face her. “We meet again,” she said.

“What do you want?” I asked, suspicion welling inside me.

“I’m not an enemy.”

I didn’t respond. I simply stood and waited for her to tell me what she wanted.

“I’m here to offer my assistance.” As she spoke she walked closer.

I angled my body in front of Heven’s because I didn’t trust her. Just because I recognized her, didn’t mean that I knew her. Heven stepped out around me to stand beside me, rolled her eyes and sighed dramatically. My lips twitched at her display of annoyance at being protected. She was strong. I couldn’t complain because, if she wasn’t, she would probably be dead.

I looked back at the woman. She had the hair of women on shampoo commercials, glossy and thick. It was a deep, rich shade of brown, so dark it was almost black. She had a heart shaped face with wide, high cheek bones, full, pink lips and wide gray eyes. Her skin was creamy and unblemished. What balanced out all that perfection was the way that she carried herself. She walked like a warrior, with self-confidence and awareness, with grace but purpose, ease but meaning. It made her more than beautiful. It made her interesting and arresting.

You bought my bracelet from her?
Heven’s voice entered my mind.

Yeah.

“You have a Mindbond,” the woman said.

I stiffened, but Heven seemed curious and even a little drawn to her. “How did you know that?”

“Heven,” I warned, she shouldn’t draw attention to herself.

She isn’t here to hurt us.
She told me.

How do you know? You can’t see her aura.

I just know.

Echoing Heven’s silent words she said, “I mean you no harm. As I said before, I’m here to offer my assistance.”

“Assistance for what?” I asked.

“I saw what happened earlier, with the demon.”

My eyes narrowed. What did she have to do with that demon? “So?”

“They are getting braver, tougher. Word is out that she has protection of a hellhound.”

“You know what he is?” Heven gasped.

My head was reeling because it was exactly what I had been thinking too—that demon was stronger than any of the others I had faced up until now.

She smiled, full lips drawing back to reveal perfectly straight white teeth. She turned to Heven to say, “I know everything.”

“Who the hell are you?” I asked. I should’ve known when she sold me that bracelet that she wasn’t just a sales lady.

“My name is Gemma. I’m a Celestial.”

“What’s a Celestial?” Heven asked, her curiosity showing itself again. Although, in her defense, in the past few months her entire world had exploded with hellhounds, angels, demons, Supernatural Maps and Treasures, and now this.

In a gesture so familiar to me, Gemma’s eyes swept the trees and areas surrounding us. “A Celestial is a class of Outsiders who are wholly good. We represent the forces of armed justice; we are those who seek out to destroy evil and maintain balance in the world.”

“What are Outsiders?” I asked.

Gemma shrugged. “Those of us who are not wholly human. Angels would be one type of a Celestial.”

“Like Airis?”

Gemma didn’t really react to the mention of Airis, but I sensed one. “Yes, Airis is an angel.”

“You don’t like her,” Heven stated, clearly picking up on the same thing I had.

Gemma’s gray eyes widened. “I didn’t say that.”

“You aren’t denying it,” she retorted.

“You’re very perceptive,” Gemma murmured. She looked at Heven with approval. “Can you see my aura?”

“No.”

“Can you see Airis’s?”

“No. Are you an angel too?”

“Sort of.”

“What does that mean?” I asked.

“I’m a fallen angel.”

Beside me, Heven frowned. “Aren’t fallen angels bad?”

Gemma said that Celestials were wholly good.

“Depends on who you ask.” Gemma’s teeth flashed.

“Wrong answer,” I growled. I didn’t trust her. At. All.

“Relax,” Gemma said with an eye roll. She glanced at Heven. “Hellhounds can never take a joke.”

That caught my attention. Heven gasped. “You know other hellhounds?”

“I’ve known a few.” Something shifted behind her eyes. She covered it by saying, “Fallen angels are angels, who for their reasons, have been cast out of Heaven, usually for a sin of some kind. Some fallen angels are sent here to Earth because we aren’t really bad, but we can no longer reside in Heaven. Most of us spend our time doing what I said, acting as armed justice to seek out and destroy evil.”

I wanted to scoff at the lame description. Heven seemed impressed though.

“So you’re a warrior angel?”

Gemma’s eyes widened again and she looked at me. “We’ve got a smart one here.”

“I know,” I said, wishing Heven would just be quiet. But then I felt myself asking, “So you’re here to help us fight off the demons that keep coming to kill Heven?”

“How did you know they were demons?” Gemma asked.

“I’m a hellhound. I know spawn of Hell when I see it.” I was offended she asked. Heven patted my arm.

“I can see why Airis chose you both. You make a surprisingly strong pair.”

“And you’re here…?” I asked again, annoyed.

“I’m here to make you stronger. I’m going to teach you how to fight.”

I barked a laugh. “Seriously? I think I have that part covered.”

Without any indication or reaction, Gemma struck out. I felt her coming before she even moved and I leapt in front of Heven just as Gemma reached us, and I spun her kick away. Gemma fell back with my hit and then regained her feet to charge again. I was ready time after time, hit after hit. She wasn’t getting the best of me. I wasn’t going to show weakness. I was already pissed off over the demon in the lake, and I was more than happy to take it out on her. Gemma must have sensed the willing fight she was meeting because she stopped suddenly and unsheathed the sword that was strapped to her back. I crouched as my body began to shake. I felt a rush of adrenaline and my skin began to hum. The hound was ready to go and I was going to let it out.

Out of the blue, Gemma dropped her sword and pulled something out of the pouch that hung around her waist. She lifted the lid to the metal box now clutched in her hand and something unseen slammed into me. I felt it wrap around me like Saran Wrap. It molded against my body and tightened. I arched my back in pain—caught between the hound and the human, it was all I could do to stay on my feet. This bitch was crazy and whatever she was doing to me was no joke. I wasn’t going to show the weakness I felt or the sudden panic about not being able to do what my body was built to do.

The pain went on as the invisible force wrapped tighter around me. I felt my knees buckle and I swore. My skin prickled with sweat and it began to run down my back and temples.

Fight. You have to fight.

“Stop! You’re hurting him!” Heven cried and ran at Gemma.

A half-growl, half-shout ripped from my throat as I pushed myself to my feet. I swayed slightly, but found my balance to rush forward and put myself in between Heven and this woman. Gemma struck out with her foot, hitting me firmly in my chest. I fell backwards, slamming into the ground hard, but I barely felt it. I was up and running at her again in seconds, only to be hit again. This was a pattern that I didn’t care to repeat a hundred times. I felt exhausted, weak, and trapped and my panic was rising. Whatever was happening wasn’t natural.