My Way to Hell (36 page)

Armando shook his head, his long, black ponytail quivering. “No, no!”

“Good to hear because, I gotta tell ya, I don’t much like it.”

“But the child—he’s—he’s—”

“What?”
the stranger bellowed. “Are you telling me something you think I don’t know, rogue? I’d be really pretty tweaked if that were the case. I pride myself on running a tight ship. Speaking of ships and tight, mind telling me where you’ve been since 1934?”

“It was her!” he yelled in Marcella’s direction, sweat dripping from his forehead as he pointed an accusatory finger. “
She
locked me up in a box, Dameal. I only just got out.
She
kept me from serving you.”

Marcella rolled her eyes. Wasn’t that just like a man? Blame, blame, blame. And Dameal . . . who the fuck was this Dameal?

Dameal’s dark head tilted to the right as he gave Armando an exaggerated look of disbelief. “Are you telling me a woman kept you from your duties? A
woman
? Funny, the rumor is that you’re rogue.
Rogue
.” He spat out the word as though it were dirty. “And you’ve been out of that box for quite some time while you’ve been sneaking around behind my back. Everything else pales in comparison, don’t you agree?”

Armando’s hands attempted to grasp the steel clench Dameal’s fists had on him, but only flopped helplessly back to his hanging position. “Listen to me, Dameal! The boy! He can—”

“Did
you
interrupt
me
?” He shook him hard, chattering his teeth. “Damn it all. I hate to be interrupted. Don’t you know that? No, wait. You wouldn’t know that because after being trapped in a box by some whiny female, when you finally get out, you ‘forget’ to check in with me and instead plan an uprising I neither heard about nor approved. And that makes me very angry, Armando. Very angry. So what should we do about that? How can you make it up to me?” Dameal tapped his toe, then nodded his head as though he’d found the answer. “Oh. I know.
Twinkies
. I love Twinkies. Do you think you can get your weak, simpering hands on enough to make up for the fact that you planned the demise of
Satan
?” He bellowed the last word so loud, Armando’s hair fluttered about his face.

Armando’s face was turning red from being held upside down. Yet he struggled in this Dameal’s iron grip. “If you’ll just listen to me—I have information about the boy! Important information, Dameal,” he cried. “I swear, I was just underground until I got rid of—”

“
Eeenough
!” He cut him off with a howl that echoed in Marcella’s ears and shot to her toes. “I’ve had about enough of your lies, and I’m sure when Abbadon returns from his time in the pit—courtesy of you—he’ll want a word with you for that little escapade you sent him on. Dumb as a stump, that one is. Such a follower. So whaddya say we hit a Starbucks or something, have a little man-to-man? Caramel frapps on me.” He chuckled, looking over his shoulder at Marcella and winking.

Marcella looked to Catalina in question, because she was clearly the only person who knew who this Dameal was, but she was too engaged in narrowing her hate-filled gaze at Dameal.

Kellen rose, hauling the still-sleeping Carlos up over his shoulder, and stepped over the demolished teeter-totter to approach Dameal, with Marcella but two steps behind him. Kellen stood in front of her protectively, putting his free hand behind them to wrap it around Marcella’s hip. “I’m not going to ask any questions. I’ve learned in this demon game to never take anything at face value. What appears to be reality isn’t always the case. So I’m just going to say thank you, and leave it at that.” His words were terse, his face hard.

Dameal assessed Kellen with eyes that gleamed, not with malice, but something Marcella couldn’t put her finger on. “I accept. I ask only one favor in return for taking this leech off your hands.”

Though not as wide as Dameal, Kellen met him eye to eye. His answer rang with the skepticism Marcella wanted to voice, but was unable to put into words. “That is?”

“Tell the other woman present, whose name I’m no longer able to speak because she’s a fiery shrew, I’ll be seeing her.
Soon
. And I’m all kinds of tickled pink.” With that, he strode to the center of the playground and gave one last curt nod to Catalina.

Then he grinned at her. Wide. Playful.

In return, Catalina flipped him the bird—in stereo.

As Dameal’s laughing outline began to shimmer, indicating he was making his exit, another appeared, stopping only to circle Dameal’s form, cocking his head in obvious question. Dameal sent a clear, silent message to the image before nodding and disappearing.

Marcella sucked in gulps of air. What a mind fuck.

Kellen approached Catalina, who’d come to stand by them, giving Carlos’s hair a ruffle with her fingers. “Wow. I think he deserves an explanation. So who’s Dameal?”

Catalina’s face instantly changed. “A demon. A lying, cheating demon,” she fairly spat out, with a heaving chest and tight lips.

“That lying, cheating demon just saved our lives,” Kellen reminded her in his calm, no-nonsense tone.

“Please. I had it. He shows up at the last minute like the Green Lantern because he’s a show-off. I’d have nailed that asshole balls to the wall in another second or two.” Her indignation so obviously a cover for how close they’d all really been to being killed.

Kellen clearly sensed how one-upped Catalina appeared. His words sought to appease, but he wanted answers. The ones that just wouldn’t let him leave well enough alone. “No doubt, you’re a force, Catalina. But I’d still like to know how you know him. Because it looked like you knew each other.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she offered with blandness to her tone, avoiding their eyes. Yet Marcella recognized it for what it was. A purposeful guise of disinterest to hide whatever she felt for Dameal. For whatever their history, and there was history between them, might be.

Like a man, Kellen stomped his size elevens all over a delicate situation. “Oh, c’mon, Catalina. It’s obvious he just saved our asses, but if you could have willed it, he’d be so much shit on the bottom of your shoe. So what gives?”

Her hands clenched at her sides. “I said—”

Marcella stepped in with a finger to Kellen’s lips. “Kellen? Hush. It’s none of your business. Or mine. Even if I’m dying to know who he was and why he didn’t help Armando annihilate us all. At this point, I’m so tired I don’t care about anything other than we’re all safe—especially Carlos. So leave Catalina alone.” She knew this thing between Catalina and Dameal. It had to do with volatile emotions only another woman as hot-tempered and passionate as both she and Catalina were to understand.

“Take your girlfriend’s advice,” Catalina warned.

Kellen held up a hand in resignation, then cocked his head. “Wait. You can see Marcella?”

Catalina nodded, gathering her backpack. “It was the craziest frickin’ thing. She was just there. I looked up, and bam. I’m as surprised as you are. So, Marcella”—she stuck out her dirty, bloodied hand—“nice to finally meet you.”

Marcella gulped, thankful Catalina never heard the horrible things she’d said about her. “You, too.”
You, too.

She gave Marcella a vague smile. “And now that everyone’s safe and sound—I’m out.”

Planting a hand on her shoulder, Kellen smiled his thanks. “Catalina, I owe you—big. Whatever you need. Say it.”

Clearly, warm emotions made Catalina uncomfortable, giving Marcella the sense that she didn’t save children because her goal was to redeem herself. Her reasons were deeper, and maybe someday, if their paths ever crossed again, they could talk. Really talk. She knew what it was to keep your pain buried so deep it ate you up. She’d read Catalina wrong. For that, Marcella was remorseful.

Catalina offered an offhand remark. “Forget it. It’s what I do. All you owe me is making sure this little monster gets back home safely. I’ll be around. Good Texas bat shit’s hard to come by. Be good to each other.”

Before she disappeared, she placed a hand on Marcella’s shoulder and gripped it in silent thanks. Marcella reached up and gripped it back with a squeeze before watching her disappear.

“Only a child could sleep through that kind of godawful noise,” Marcella mused, her eyes fixed on her great-grandson. The one who was alive. So fantastically, beautifully alive.

“Only an insane woman would do what you were going to do tonight. Do you have any idea how crazy that was?” Kellen gazed at her with clear admiration.

“Um, excuse me, but wasn’t that you reading the same damn spell I couldn’t remember, from a
piece of paper
? Are you out of your mind?”

He grinned. “It reminded me my Latin sucks.”

“Why did you try to translate it, you idiot? Do you have any idea what you were about to do?”

“I don’t know why I tried to translate it into English. Shit got a little crazy there for a minute. And I do know what I was doing. I was summoning and binding, or some combination thereof.”

“Why would you do something so foolish?” she chastised.

But Kellen’s face went serious. “For the same reasons you did.”

And those words, the words that meant he’d been willing to give up his life for her and Carlos, left her without breath and a heart that filled to overflowing with love.

Dragging her to him, he pressed her close to his side, resting his lips on her forehead. “Don’t
ever
do that again. Ever,” he whispered fiercely against her skin. “I would have lost you to that maniac if you’d bound yourself to him.”

She placed a hand on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart against her palm. “I doubt it’ll be a problem. I mean, I did forget the words to the spell, and the same goes for you, you fool.”

His laughter was deep. “That’s because you’re old. The seniors at the center complain all the time about memory loss.”

“Hey, respect your elders.”

“So, wanna tell me why you didn’t tell me all those oh so important details about Carlos and his relationship to you?”

“So you wouldn’t do something stupid like show up and throw yourself in front of me to save me from a wall of fire that can’t touch me, the ghost, but can singe you, the human, and your ball hairs, too? Oh, and then there’s the sacrifice-your-soul-for-mine thing. I’m a ghost, Kellen. There’s nothing that can be done for me. You’re a human, with family and friends and hopefully a teaching position you can go back to when things calm down a bit.”

“That was rash, huh?”

“And impetuous and stupid. Jesus, Kellen! I think my entire life flashed in front of my eyes in those seconds.”

“Oh, c’mon. Let’s be honest here. It had to have lasted at least a full two minutes. You’ve had
a lot
of life.”

Burying her face in his neck, she tweaked his earlobe. “Lay off the
old
jokes. I’m still damned cute for a senior citizen.”

Grabbing a handful of her butt, he chuckled his agreement. “So now we have a bigger problem.”

Marcella frowned, some of her happiness evaporating. “Now what?”

Kellen dipped his head in Carlos’s direction. “Him. Got any thoughts on how we’re going to explain Solana’s disappearance to Mrs. Ramirez?”

“I got that, dude,” a voice, youthful and warm, reassured them.

Their heads turned in unison to see a young boy, bare-chested, in a pair of loud red-and-white-flowered swim trunks, approach them. “So heeeyyy, wha’s uuuup! I’m Uriel. Coolio to meet ya.” He extended a hand with a gleaming smile.

Marcella’s ears pricked. Uriel. “You’re the one—”

He winced when he cut in: “Who dropped you on what you call Plane Drab. Totally innovative on your part, BTW. Rad name for that joint. All us archangels laughed and laughed over that. And, yeah. Guilty, wahine. It was the safest place I could think of, and I did promise you’d be safe. But I was doin’ my pal Delaney a solid. She’s some kinda friend to have, huh?” He pointed skyward. “We love her up there. She’s a slice of awesome pie with some awesome sauce. Miss her crossing over souls like crazy.”

Rad. Marcella backed away from Kellen and Carlos, fear in her eyes. Archangels and former demons somehow seemed like a Molotov cocktail of ass-whoopin’ just waiting to erupt.

But Uriel was quick to offer more reassurance with flapping hands and a gentle smile. “No, no, dudette. It’s righteous. I’m not here to take you back. But we do have to confab.” He gave a nod to Kellen. “You, too, brah.”

Marcella’s throat dried up. Archangel plus wayward ghost equaled game over.

This was the part where he took her from the people she loved and dumped her back where she’d started. She’d known all along someone would come calling. Marcella held up a hand. “Can you give me a few minutes to say my good-byes? I won’t give you a hard time. I know I’ve been here longer than the average ghost, but I didn’t know how to get back. I would have gone back if I could have. I swear.” She knew her voice was watery, but there was no stopping the tears that filled her eyes.

Kellen’s jaw was tight, as though he were trying to remain respectful when he said, “You’re not saying good-bye to anyone.” He grabbed her hand, pulling her close to him. “I know about you,” he said to Uriel. “Delaney told me what you did for her and Clyde.”

Marcella flashed a confused look at Kellen.

Kellen squeezed her hand with a gentle smile. “Uriel’s the one who granted Clyde the opportunity to stay here and start over. He missed picking up Clyde’s soul—Clyde ending up in Hell was a mistake.”

Uriel chuckled at the memory. “Dude. Like, mon-do. My supreme bad. But all’s good with Delaney now, right?”

Kellen nodded with the hint of a smile. “She’s very happy. Both she and Clyde and all the dogs.”

The archangel’s smile beamed as he became lost in a private moment of reverie. “Such awesomeness.”

However, Kellen was clearly in the here and now. “I mean no disrespect, but if you’re here to take Marcella back, I can’t let you do that. I
won’t
let you do that. She stays. With me. And I don’t care what it takes. There’ll be no more good-byes.”