Hell's Gates (Urban Fantasy) (23 page)

S
am
, Jezze, and I emerged from the mine, exhausted but alive. Papa Al and the rest of the pack followed, all in their human forms. We headed back the way we’d come, stopping by the sleeping humans Jezze had bespelled.

“We’ll take care of these,” Papa Al gestured at the humans and then waved at the pack. They moved forward and lifted the sleeping men and women, carrying them off. One less worry. They’d be safe with my dad and the pack. Especially since there was no one left to drug them. They’d be delivered to human authorities and taken somewhere they could rest and recover.

When we reached the car, a figure stood there, waiting for us. The sun peeked over the horizon, the first rays of morning light bathing the figure in a gold glow. In the light, he looked like a marble statue, crowned in gold. After the chaos, blood, darkness, and horror I’d seen this night, this was a vision of pure beauty and perfection. It was like emerging from a nightmare to realize it was all a bad dream.

I wasn’t a sentimental bitch. It wasn’t my nature. But emerging from the mine, from being coated in evil to find that radiant figure standing there, I felt a tightness in my chest.

And maybe a tear in my eye. Maybe.

I was gonna be fucking pissed if it was another demon I had to kill after I got all mushy and shit. So help them, if that wasn’t a healthy tweener, one of my dads, or anyone who
didn’t
need killing, I was gonna kill them.

Thankfully, when we got closer, I saw a familiar face. It was Gabriel, the angel who’d given Sam his holy mission. The sword he’d carried the first time I saw him was now sheathed across his back.

“Samkiel.” Gabriel gave him a nod. I noticed a distinct lack of a line in the sand. Maybe he didn’t think we were a threat anymore. Or… he thought we were too tired to pose a real threat at all.

“Gabriel.” Sam stood there stoically, waiting for the other gel to speak.

“You’ve done a great service.” Gabriel clasped his hands at his waist, studying Sam. “You did well. On High is quite pleased.”

Really? On High was
quite pleased
? I’d show them quite-fucking-pleased. Stingy assholes with their praise. We kicked evil’s ass back to Hell. Literally!

Sam touched a hand over his eyes for a moment and then looked at his old friend. “That means?”

Gabriel gave him a cryptic smile. “It doesn’t mean you will be welcomed home. Not yet, at least. If ever. But you acted selflessly, and you did so without any promise of reward. You cleansed many souls and saved many lives, for no other reason because you knew it was the right thing to do.”

I looked at Sam, wondering what was in my own heart. I certainly hadn’t nearly gotten my ass killed because it was “the right thing to do.” I’d busted out my swords because someone had been fucking with my town, and my family, and I’d be damned if I was going to let them. I’d been out for blood, vengeance. But I could tell by the look in Sam’s eye that he had been after something different. He hadn’t been there to kick ass and take names. He’d been there to protect people.

Sam had been there to protect me.

“On High believes you are taking the steps toward an uncorrupted heart. Continue on this path, and perhaps one day it will lead you back home.”

Sam watched his friend while I focused on my mate, on his eyes that now shone clear blue.

Gabriel turned and walked east, toward the rising sun. The light enveloped him, bathing him in its golden radiance. The light grew brighter and brighter until it consumed him. Between one step and the next, he was gone, leaving behind nothing but the dawn of a new day.

I took Sam’s hand, giving it a small squeeze, and his eyes met mine. It looked like I was getting my old Sam back. And while that brought a shit-ton of complications, it was something I was eternally grateful for.

But On High better not be expecting a thank you note or some shit.

None of us spoke after we climbed into my car, our energy depleted and all around gone. We’d saved Orlando. We were covered in dirt. We were like real live super heroes.

What did we do?

We went to Momma R’s. There would be no parade or monuments. There would, however, be a chemical explosion of the magical kind out at that mine.

For now, I walked slowly—warriors still weren’t gonna limp—up the stairs and went in to check on Bry. His fever was gone and the demonic brand on his arm no longer stained his skin. With the warlock’s dark magic banished, his influence was no longer able to harm my child. I wouldn’t have to worry about Silaran or his servant opening up any more dark portals beside my baby’s crib.

I picked him up and held him close, breathing in his clean scent. He squirmed and whimpered, but I couldn’t let him go. Not yet. Instead, I sat and held him in my lap, looking into his eyes and seeing the bright-eyed little boy I’d come to love.

“Is my little man feeling better?” I stroked his hair, fingers sliding through the silky strands, and kissed his forehead. He looked up at me, eyes shining brightly. “Are you?”

He reached up and grabbed my finger, squeezing it, and I gave him a smile. He made a happy sound, a giggle and gurgle that babies made when on the verge of talking. “You’re gonna be a real blabber mouth any day now, aren’t you?”

I nodded, my lips forming a goofy grin, and he nodded in return. I knew he recognized a lot of words now. He looked when I called his name and waved when someone said “hi” or “bye.” He just had to make up his mind about what he was gonna say first.

Momma R stepped into the room, smiling at us. Then her smile turned into a frown. “Caith, you’re getting blood and brimstone all over his onesie.”

I picked him up and put him back in his crib, staring at the swath of red and black. “Well, shit.”

I reached over the railing and tried to brush off some of the bigger hunks of ash. Bry looked right at me and said… “Shit!”

I stopped. “Did you just…”

He grinned and looked at Momma R. He raised his hands over his head. “Shit! Shit! Shit!”

“Well,” Momma R drawled, “he’s definitely your son.”

I was never gonna hear the end of this. But instead of apologizing for being myself—and corrupting my son—I gave Bry a grin and ruffled his hair, adding to the grime on him.

“Wait until we tell Papa Leth your first word,” I cooed. “Just wait.”

Momma R sighed and came into the room, taking over Bry’s cleanup with a quick spell. I’d miss that magic when I took Bry home. I’d have to go back to showers, baths, and just hosing him down when it got too stinky.

I’d at least put in a temperature control on the spigot outside. It wasn’t like I got him with freezing water.

Momma R nudged me downstairs, fussing at me so she could clean my wounds. My werewolf blood would have me shiny soon enough, but cleaning the dirt out of the wounds would help the process along. She dabbed the wounds with mystical antiseptic, making sure there was no trace of demonic ichor or other nastiness that might bring about a supernatural infection. She also handed over a bottle of ointment to use for the next few days, to make sure everything healed up the way it was supposed to.

I used her shower, taking a good long time to get clean and wash away some of the lingering pain. Even though I healed fast, the rest didn’t fade as soon as I stopped bleeding. The warm water soothed my muscles, and I took a long time scrubbing the dried blood out of my skin and what was left of my hair.

Ugh. My hair. I stared into the mirror, holding up singed strands. It had burned off a bit lopsided, and that simply wasn’t gonna work. I dug under the counter and grabbed a pair of scissors out of the cabinet. I was pretty sure they weren’t for hair, but whatevs. I cleaned it up a bit, trimming the burned ends and evening it out as best I could. I’d never been this short before, but I had the pixie punk rock bitch vibe. I could work with that. Maybe do a scattered mix of purple and pink.

By the time I was clean and dressed, it was nearly noon. I’d been up all night, been nearly killed, and I hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in weeks. All I wanted was my own bed in my own house with my own house’s sounds surrounding me.

But Momma R made me have lunch first. The second I was done, I pushed away from the table. “I care about you more than I could ever say, but I miss my own bed. I think it’s time to take Bry home and get some rest.”

Rest with Bry right beside me in the bed, easily within reach. Honestly, I wasn’t sure I’d let him stray very far in the coming months. He may just move into my room permanently. The papas told me not giving Bry his own room would scar him for life.

I was good with paying the kid’s therapy bills.

Momma R smiled at me. “You’re welcome any time. You know that. And make sure you bring him back soon. He needs a good influence to teach him to talk without being such a potty mouth.”

I snorted. Momma R was one to talk. That woman could whip out an F-bomb faster than a person could blink. Oh, Jezze and I weren’t allowed to bust out four letter words, but Momma R could do whatever she wanted.

I hugged them both, squeezing Jezze even tighter and fighting back my tears. We’d fought and, even if we hadn’t
really
won, we’d survived. I grabbed Bry, propping him on my hip as if I’d been doing it all my life.

Together, we headed outside, pausing on the front porch. Sam sat on the top step, feet resting a few steps below him, knees spread and his pose completely relaxed. He’d cleaned up and found a change of clothes somewhere. Though, considering he wasn’t completely fallen any longer, he probably whipped them up with his gel awesomeness. On High didn’t want their angels wandering around looking scruffy.

Beyond that, though, even his skin looked lighter and less burdened. His shoulders weren’t so slumped and weighted down, his body giving off an aura of… contentment. It was as if the darkness had fled from his very pores, leaving behind a new Sam. Or the old one.

I padded forward, grinning when Bry patted my cheeks and tugged on my shortened hair. I took one step down and then let gravity do the rest, falling back to sit next to my mate.

I held Bryony on my lap and leaned against him, my head on his shoulder. “Thank you. I wouldn’t have been able to do this without you.”

He turned his head and pressed a soft kiss to the top. “And I wouldn’t have made it this far without you.”

I pulled away, rolling my eyes and shooting him a glare.

He looked me right in the eye, past my disbelief and anger, and the depth of his gaze made the old feelings—love—stir with a renewed vigor.

“I nearly slipped more than once, Caith.” His deep murmur vibrated through me. “Your guidance kept me on the right path.”

I snorted. “Yeah, sure. The Princess of Hell kept the angel off the dark path. Like they’ll buy that story.”

He shrugged. “It’s true. We know that. That’s all that matters.”

He put a hand on my knee, the warmth of his touch sinking past the fabric of my pants. It stirred another type of feeling within me, one I couldn’t act on while I had Bry.

“You staying in town awhile?” I held my breath, hopeful about his response. I didn’t know what the hell our relationship was—mates but not, in love, but not.

He nodded. “I was hoping to. If you want me here. Orlando is your town, after all.”

As if I’d want him anywhere else. I mentally shook my head. I craved him like a drug—so not the right time for that pun—but I had no idea if he felt the same. So many things had changed yet so many stayed the same…

“I could get used to having you around.” I smirked at him, winking—aching to have him with me all the time. “And I’m thinking of reopening the borders. I was throwing a temper tantrum when I banned the dems from Orlando.” Maybe more than a temper tantrum. I’d lashed out after losing Sam to Uncle Luc. “And…” I thought about my mother; what she’d done and how she was doing. “I guess maybe not all of them are completely bad.”

I was pretty sure she’d survived the battle, but it had probably drained her so much that she wouldn’t be able to return to the tween for a while.

Though, of course, it wouldn’t hurt her to call. I guess some things never changed.

I also figured a lack of strength might explain why Uncle Luc hadn’t been around. Bringing yourself from Hell to the tween wasn’t an easy task and he’d probably been too busy countering Silaran’s moves in Hell. It was likely he simply couldn’t manifest in the tween for a while. Not until he recuperated from preventing the coup.

Except something tickled at the back of my mind, telling me there was another explanation for his absence. Something I wasn’t going to like.

I’d have to ask Killian when I got the chance though I doubted I’d get a straight answer out of him.

“I was getting ready to head home and get some rest.” I bumped my shoulder against his. “You’re welcome to join me.”

Forever.

Sam grinned and squeezed my knee, his hand sliding a bit farther up my leg. “I’d like that.”

The wicked glint I remembered was there in his sparkling blue eyes. I had the feeling we wouldn’t be getting much rest. And I… was okay with that.

We headed back to my place and laid Bry down for his nap, leaving the connecting door between our rooms open so I could hear him. I’d bring him into bed after I was done getting reacquainted with my mate. It felt good to be home, in a familiar, comfortable place.

Sam stood over Bry’s crib, this tall, dark gel hovering over such a defenseless child. It mirrored a scene from a year ago, when Sam had fallen. When he’d come to my home before disappearing from my life. When he’d gifted Bry with the last of his divine grace.

Sam drew his finger along Bryony’s spine, tracing the delicate line of his back. When he completed the sign for On High, a soft glow trailed in his wake. A blessing. A blessing from my mate to my son.

I would never admit to it, but tears formed in my eyes. I’d cried enough and I was done with that crap. The room was just dusty. I’d bitch at my housekeeper later. For now…

For now, I held out my hand for Sam, shuddering when he placed his in mine. I led him into my room, leaving the door open enough so I could hear Bryony.