Soulless (The Heartless Series Book 2) (17 page)

I tasted her.

I tasted her blood.

I held her in my arms.

I let her go.

I’m ready for her to hate me again.

It’s the way it should be.

People should hate the things that hurt them. They shouldn’t have feelings for them. They shouldn’t go on road trips or trust them enough to take them to their mother’s house, even after the thing has lied time and time again.

Gracen Sullivan is the most wonderful person I know. That is no lie and no joke. Even Colleen back in the day couldn’t compare. To be what Gracen is and to have all the evil inside her—both naturally and from the demon blood—she’s still so good, so trusting.

She trusts me.

Or rather, she trusted me.

I have no idea why. It isn’t like I deserve it. Any of it. She should’ve killed me with the knife the first chance she got. Or cast me out of Sam’s body.

Now that she has the book, she’ll know all of that.

And she’ll know for a fact, without a doubt, that she can die.

I stand outside the door with my head tilted back against the cool wood and listen to Gracen’s whispers as she reads the manual.

The virgin blood of the half angel and half human shall unlock the gates of Hell. The blood of a damned soul will open the door.

I close my eyes as the thoughts of that night, which feels much longer than three days ago, come swelling back into me. I thought for sure I was going to die. For sure. I’d already been dead once, so that was no big deal. Not really. Except this time I knew.

People talk about Hell. They sort of make a joke about it, about going there. Living large and heading to Hell. They think it’s all fun and games, or that it’s not real.

It is real.

It’s not fun.

It’s not a game.

And I never want to go back.

There are reasons that even the demons want out. The demons and every other thing in Hell worse than a demon. And there are much worse things.

That’s why I did what I did. To make sure I’d never go back.

I was ready to go in Lucien’s place. I was. My brother didn’t belong down there or deserve whatever they did to him. I guess I’ll see soon.

But when the gates were closed and I heard the little small voice in my head telling me to get the book, I didn’t question it.

Wasn’t until two days ago that I knew who that voice was. It wasn’t me being smart.

It was Seth being smarter.

If all the Heavenly hosts come down and smite him, I want to be the first in line to watch. Hell, they can do with me whatever they damn well please as long as I get to see Seth get his.

Seth likes me as his puppet just like he liked Lucien. Playing us both against each other… slippery slope.

Slippery.

Slope.

The Abomination is the most evil of all creation. A human with a black heart. No soul. With tainted angel blood. With the thirst for demon blood. All three mix to form something ungodly. Unnatural. Unholy.

Above all else, the Abomination must be stopped. At any cost. If such a creature is allowed to be made, it must not be permitted to live. To do so will cause death to the entire world. For no vessel, human or otherwise, was made to contain such power. Angel. Demon. Human. All three in one. The most powerful thing in the world. The most deadly.

The Abomination must be stopped before it fully turns, or it will destroy the world.

Not even the angels can stop it.

Only one thing can keep the Abomination from destroying the world…

“A human heart.” I repeat the words as she says them aloud.

A human heart. I don’t know what it means, but I know she won’t like it. I also know she’s about to either bolt or do something stupid now that she knows she can die.

The first stage is for the Abomination to consume enough demon blood to fill her entire body, ridding it of all human blood. The second stage, for it to truly turn, is for the creature to kill someone she loves.

“Mama.” I hear her cry through the door.

I can’t hold it back any longer. She has to know the truth. Seth has played his hand well, manipulating me. Making me do what he wants me to do. This is all part of it, and now I have to convince her that she can’t die… that I need her.

I need her.

She’s still sitting on the floor when I barge into the motel room. Strange. I figured she wouldn’t be.

Her eyes are red, not demon red. Red from crying. Red from everything she’s read. Red from everything that’s been done to her.

Everything I thought about saying goes by the wayside, and I freeze. What do I say to her? What can I possibly say to make her realize that everything will be okay when it won’t? How can I convince her to come with me when she won’t? Will she even care? Can she care?

A human heart.

I start to say something, anything—mainly wanting to say, “Don’t kill yourself”—when she stops me.

“Don’t eavesdrop anymore. It’s rude.” She looks tired. Done. Done with it all. I imagine she is. Truth be told, so am I.

“Okay.” I nod. This can go many different ways, or two I suppose. Bad or really bad. I feel like a trainer around a caged animal who’s had too many beatings. I don’t know what she’s going to do, and that scares me. I’ve read more of that book than she has. I know what she can do to demons even now. She may need our blood, but that doesn’t mean she can’t kill us with one single thought.

I hope she never thinks it.

“You knew.” She bites her lip. The one I’ll never kiss again. The one I never should have kissed in the first place.

“I knew.

“You knew I’d kill my mother.”

“We don’t know that you will. We don’t know anything for certain.”

She holds up her hand to stop me. If she could control her powers, I’m sure I’d be dead by now.

“How?”

I clear my throat and pull up one of the most uncomfortable chairs known to man: a green one with the padding slightly showing under the fabric and a curved metal back. I turn it backwards and sit down, resting my head on my arms

“I grabbed it in the cave. Took is with us when I picked you up and carried you home. Seemed like something we should have.”

“You lied to me about it.” Her gaze bores into mine.

“I lied to you about a lot of things. Why should this one be different?” I’ve had a defensive trick all my life: be a butthole. That’s basically it. Be a butthole and people will leave you alone. If you act like you don’t care, they won’t either. They’ll decide you aren’t worth their time and move on. In this case, I don’t know what else to say. I’m caught. It doesn’t matter what I say, only that she believes me and comes with me.

Yes, I’m leading her to her possible death, but isn’t that what she wants? Isn’t that what the world needs?

I don’t want her dead.

When do I ever get what I want?

I wanted revenge for over two hundred years for something my brother didn’t even do. Now look at me. I’m doing everything wrong to try to make it right.

“You knew I wanted to know about this stuff, what I am. And you hid it? Why would you do that?”

I shrug, still trying to keep up the I-don’t-care attitude. I’m glad she can’t read my mind, though. I care. I so care. I hate my humanity.

“Reasons.”

“That’s all you have to say? Reasons?”

“Yeah.” What more can I say? A lot more actually. There are a lot of things I want to tell her. She has no idea what happened in the last three days that she’s been asleep. None. The world might not have ended, but mine did.

“Yeah… Yeah?”

As quickly as a pin can drop, Gracen’s eyes flood black and I’m back against the wall, my feet dangling in the air. Seems we’ve been here before. “That’s all you have to say for yourself… you… you…”

“Demon.” I squeak out. The invisible hand that’s wrapped around my neck is getting tighter and tighter. Please, don’t let her figure out how to kill me. Not yet. Not until after I know he’s all right.

She eases her grip. Thank… God.

“I’m a demon, sweetheart,” I say when the air comes back in my lungs. My feet are still about ten inches off the floor. Thankfully, I can semi-breathe now. “A demon. I do things that don’t make sense to normal people. I have my reasons for things, and I do them. I’m not good. I’m not pure. I’m not anything remotely human, and you keep forgetting that. Time and time again, you forget.”

“I trusted you.” Her voice is far away, like she can’t even believe it herself. “I trusted you. I came here with you. Even though I didn’t think it would be a good idea. Even though I was scared to death that I would kill my mother. And you knew… all the time, you knew and you played me.” She stands slowly, keeping her eyes locked on mine.

I’m not happy about this. Not at all.

“You played me.”

Time to backtrack. I wonder if the truth will do any good. Probably as good as anything in this situation. “I’ve played you for years. Can’t come as a shock that I would now.”

I’m pretty sure she’s going to deck me. A bruise is better than death.

“Look, let me explain, okay. I can. I mean… look, back in the beginning, Seth hooked up with your mother—”

“Oh my God, you aren’t going to give me the history lesson, are you?” She huffs, holding the book out in front of her like it’s on fire. For all I know, for an abomination, it might feel like it. I wonder what holy water will do to her. I know what it’ll do to me… and it isn’t pleasant.

“I’m giving you the true history.”

She scoffs. “And I’m just supposed to believe you now? After everything. I did trust you!”

“And you were wrong to. You know that, and I know that. Admit it, there’s something about me that draws you in. You don’t know what. You don’t like it, but it’s there. I’m the same way. I don’t like it. I don’t want it. Something, though, something is there. I can feel it. So can you.”

She doesn’t answer right away.

Maybe it’s time to keep going with the story and not focus on feelings. “Your mother wanted to abort you. She would have if I hadn’t stepped in. I was the nice friendly lady at the clinic who talked her out of it. Then I was your aunt, who would’ve died after that car crash if I hadn’t gotten inside her and fixed her up.”

“You drove her crazy.” She reminds me.

“I saved her life.” I counter. It’s a good argument, except Gracen doesn’t seem to buy it.

Talk faster… “I’ve been with you since the very beginning. I’ve watched you grow. I was your boyfriend.”

“Sam was my boyfriend.” Her nostrils flare, and I hear the sadness in her voice. Not only has she lost everything, changed everything she believed in, she also lost her boyfriend. Now she’s stuck with the guy who looks just like him.

I do feel sorry for her. I wish I could make everything better.

“I’m Sam. Me. All those things you loved were me.”

Her eyes narrow, and she walks dangerously close to me. She stretches out her hand, and I can feel my neck tightening without her even touching it. Nice trick. Wish I could do that…

“You aren’t Sam. You’ll never be Sam. Sam was good and kind and would sacrifice everything for me. That’s the Sam I loved, the one who put me and our relationship above everything else for all those years before he turned into a dick.”

I have nothing to say to that. Nothing that will take the pain away. “If I could go back and change things, I would. Hell, maybe you can. You can do that nifty time bending thing.”

“I can’t control it.” She answers, and her eyes don’t leave mine. “If I could, I might.”

I would if I were her.

“You’re not real.” She keeps going. Holding the book away from her body like it’s going to hurt her if she holds it too close. “None of it. Not really. You, Hart Blackwell, are worm meat on the Stones River battlefield.”

“Murfreesboro actually.”

“What?” I’ve stopped her line of thinking long enough for her to loosen her grip and sweet air to get in.

“I was one of the unlucky bastards buried in a shallow, unmarked mass grave in Murfreesboro on January second, eighteen sixty-three. Shallow because it was so cold. Mass because—well—mass.”

Gracen’s eyes soften, and I think that maybe I’m getting through to her somehow. Maybe… maybe?

“I don’t care if you were buried on Mars.”

Maybe not.

“What I do care about is this book and how you keep lying and lying to me. I’m tired of it. I’m so tired.”

She lets me go, and I slump to the floor. While I get my bearings and cough up some nasty tasting stuff, Gracen turns her back to me and lays the book on the bed.

It really is a pretty book. Not plain in the least. Gold binding, and I’m guessing it is real gold, is all around the seams. The words on the exterior are in Greek, I think. Or some ancient language that isn’t even there anymore. I know I can’t read it. That’s why it’s strange that the words inside are in English and we can read them. If that’s the only odd thing about that book, I’d be shocked. It so isn’t.

Gracen holds on to the bed. Her head is bent low, and she’s rocking back and forth. I promised I wouldn’t read her mind, and I won’t try no matter how much I want to. I at least owe her that. The thing is, though, I don’t have to read it to see how much she’s hurting. How much strain and stress she has on her shoulders. To realize, not just know, that the only way to save the world is to die is a horrible thing.

It’s a horrible thing for me as well because I can’t let that happen.

Not only for me and my feelings. Not just for her and the fact that the world would be missing a hell of a girl if Gracen Sullivan didn’t exist. But for my brother. I need Gracen alive for my brother.

“Sweetheart.” I don’t move a muscle toward her. “Look, I don’t expect you to understand why I did what I did or why I do what I do now. It’s complicated. It really is. Rules, Earthly rules, don’t exactly work in the afterlife. Heaven or Hell. I know that’s no excuse. It’s just how things are.”

She doesn’t answer. I hope she isn’t thinking of doing something stupid.

It’s not like I can stop her. Not physically. I think she’s figured out that when she’s mad she can throw me around the room like a ragdoll. Won’t be long before she figures out more. I don’t think those instructions are in the book. Doesn’t mean she won’t figure it out. A person doesn’t need a diagram to figure out sex. A demon doesn’t need a roadmap to figure out how to be evil. I’m assuming being an abomination is the same way.