Arianna Rose: The Gates of Hell (Part 5) (5 page)

“Yo!” he called to the thin, freckled guy.  “What’s going on?”

“The Sola’s being drawn to another location,” he replied. 

Dane’s brother, Jason, streaked past him.

“Jason!” Dane yelled.

Jason spun and trotted toward him.

“Get you
r shit together,” Jason told him.  “We might be able to make it this time and stop Darius.”

Darius, the bastard who wanted to enslave Arianna and eradicate the human race, was just the right being on which to vent his frustrations.  Finding Darius was exactly what he needed.  

“I’m ready.  Let’s go!” Dane said, feeling a burst of fiery adrenaline rocket through his veins as he bounded down the three steps in front of his cabin and raced to the center of the courtyard.

Arianna was there, Desmond looming behind her like a shadow devoid of pigment. When she saw Dane, she did a double take.  Lifting a brow, she asked, “Decided to ditch your date?”  Mischief danced in her eyes, in her tone, and he swore both were mixed with flirtation. 

A fluttering sensation arose in his belly and branched out to each of his limbs.  “You know it, mama,” he replied and tried to sound cool. 

I’m such an ass
, he thought as they all linked hands, and felt the world around him fade. 

Chapter 4

Arianna found herself and the others standing on a maple-lined sidewalk.  Light-blue skies stretched overhead as far as the eye could see until eventually meeting with the rich blue waters of a nearby bay.  Houses with neat, well-manicured lawns occupied the space leading up to the sidewalk, boasting scenic views of a harbor glistening so richly it appeared to be adorned with diamonds.

Taking in the
scenery, Jason and Dane exchanged furtive glances.  Arianna couldn’t help but share in their caution.  After all, the town in France hadn’t been much different.  Picturesque setting, clear, lovely day, yet not a soul roamed. 

A faint breeze stirred and rustled leaves in treetops.  She stood
completely still and reached out with all her senses, searching for sounds of activity, sounds of life. 

As if on command,
the happy squeal of a child was followed by a dog barking and an adult female counting backward from ten, ending with an enthusiastic, “Ready or not, here I come!” Hearing both sounds, Arianna had to suppress the urge to squeal with delight herself.  She did not, of course, and chose instead to suggest to the group that they disband.  Roughly twenty random people appearing from thin air on the sidewalk of the charming town in what might as well have been Perfectville, USA was bound to raise suspicion.  The last thing she wanted was unnecessary attention. 

She
looked among the wary faces before her. 

“Looks like m
aybe we made it here in time.  People are still alive.  Are you sure this was the place?” Desmond asked tightly after a long pause.  He looked about.  A lawn mower growled to life, an intact man pushing it along.  A set of children raced down the driveway on their bikes a few houses down the road.  He, along with Arianna, watched.  “This place is teeming with life,” he added.  But something in the tone of his voice told her that he was not totally convinced of his statement, that he did not trust what he was seeing.

His hesitance provoked her to share her instincts.
“I don’t know about any of this, but I’m sure this is the location.  It’s not like I have a choice or say in where I go.  I’m just pulled,” Arianna thought aloud.  “I’ve got a really strange feeling about this place.” Uneasiness surged in small swells, too minor to cause her to spring into action, but too significant ignore.  She was left with the odd sensation of bobbing along in a vast, choppy sea.  “I think we need to split up and check things out,” she suggested.

“Good idea, Sola,” Briathos said and nodded respectfully.  “
You were drawn to this location for a reason.  There is clearly more than meets the eye here.  Something does not feel right, indeed.  I cannot place what it is, but my senses feel . . . conflicted.”

“Yeah, I’m getting that too,
kind of like when the porch light is on, but nobody’s home,” Dane added thoughtfully.

“You know
a lot
about that,” Jason chided.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Dane asked and cocked his head to one side.

“Oh yeah, you’re an expert!” Jason chuckled, and so did a few of the trainees that had traveled with them. 

“It’s a saying that implies you’re stupid,” Desmond said in a low voice, and Arianna swore she heard a hint of sarcasm.

“I’ll show you stupid” Dane said as he punched his brother in the arm.

“Are you freaking kidding me?” Arianna asked exasperatedly.  “People could be dying as we speak, and you two are acting like a pair of fifth graders!”

Jason lowered his head and pink tinged the skin along Dane’s cheekbone.  They both rocked on the soles of their shoes uncomfortably, like children who’d just been scolded by their parents.  “Sorry,” they mumbled in unison.

“Whatever,” Arianna said.  She shook her head and waved a hand in front of her face.  “This town feels off to me.  Briathos agrees.  We need to split up and get to the bottom of it.  Is everybody
okay with that?” she asked the group.

Dane
folded his arms across his broad chest.  He looked from side to side, his gaze watchful.  “Absolutely,” he said.  “There’s definitely a hole in this bag of marbles.”  He nodded somberly.

“
Bag of marbles?  You’re such an idiot,” Jason said and shook his head.

Arianna shot Jason a stern look and he dipped his head while raising his hands submissively.  “Okay, okay,” he said then whispered, “but Beth would say he’s like Venus de Milo, so pretty but not all there.”  He brushed past her, his words and the aching memory of Beth suspended in the air as a bittersweet reminder of her friend’s wit. 

Tears burned the backs of her eyelids, but she needed to compose herself.  Beth would want her to find and end Darius’ spree of violence.  She cleared the emotion that had collected in her throat and said, “Okay, Desmond and I are going to head that way.  She pointed in the distance to what appeared to be the hub of town.”  Nods of approval were given and brief discussions of small groupings and destinations arose.  Arianna did not stick around for them, though.  The pressing need to unearth the secret of the town she sensed was buried underfoot moved her.

She and Desmond headed toward the main thoroughfare
, passing houses that diminished in size the closer they neared to the town square, and stopped at a courtyard.  Picnic tables, spaced evenly from one another, were enclosed behind a wrought-iron fence along with a small play area complete with slides, monkey bars and swings on one side, and an impressive garden bursting with red begonias, purple hydrangeas and yellow dahlias on the other.  From the courtyard, she and Desmond were granted an unobstructed view of what she gathered was Main Street and all its local businesses.  Specialty shops, coffeehouses, an outdoor café and a diner were interspersed among beautifully maintained historic buildings.  People window-shopped at leisurely paces, a biker passed, pedaling along with unhurriedness similar to that of the shoppers.  The scene was idyllic.  Still, anxiety remained a constant source of energy churning the situation, tossing around inside her like a vessel without shoreline in sight. 

“Come on,” Desmond said as he wrapped his hand around hers.  “Let’s get a closer look, meet some of the locals.”

She allowed herself to be led, enjoying the warm flow of energy humming between their palms.  All the while, she scanned the faces she passed as they made their way to the sidewalk.  All seemed ordinary enough.  A boy blazing by on a skateboard gave them a jaunty wave before catching up with his friends a little farther down the road.  People sauntered and chatted and seemed to be enjoying the mild afternoon.  But her unease persisted.  She’d released Desmond’s hand and was scrutinizing a passing car, wondering if or why one of the passengers looked vaguely familiar, when Desmond’s voice distracted her.

“Let’s go in there,” Desmond pulled her from her concerned brooding and pointed to a small market on the other side of the street.  “We can get a
closer look, mingle, and maybe get a feel for what’s going on.”

Arianna nodded and
raised her hand, inviting Desmond to lead the way.  He looked from right to left; making certain it was safe to cross then took her hand and stepped off the sidewalk with her.  They dashed across the cobblestone street. 

Two women chatted as they pushed strollers in which small children slept
.  They were leaving as she and Desmond were entering the market.  Desmond, being the chivalrous being he was, held the door for the women with the strollers.  The women thanked him coquettishly, giggling and practically drooling, then paused to take a lingering look that did not match their wholesome appearances. 

Though the act was brazen and a bit annoying,
Arianna couldn’t blame them.  Any woman would be crazy to miss the opportunity to get a look at Desmond.  At times, she forgot how extraordinarily good-looking he was compared to other men.  Angelic and almost painfully handsome, he outshined even the handsomest men everyday life had to offer.  Others paled in comparison when judged beside Desmond.  The startled look on the women’s faces—eyes wide and mouths partially agape—was reminder enough. 

Arianna was about to spout a snide comment, but the words died on her tongue.  Let the women get an eyeful.  Let them gawk and fantasize all they wanted because at the end of the day, he was hers and she was his. 

The women moved on and Desmond and Arianna walked into the market.  A small row of produce gave way to a nook reserved for baked goods, a narrow sandwich station, refrigerated beverages, and canned and boxed items. 

“We should buy something, don’t you think?” Desmond asked. 

“Yeah, I guess,” she replied.  “I’m starving.  Why don’t we grab a couple of bagels and drinks and take them back to the courtyard?”

“Sounds good,” he said.

They made their way to the bakery area and grabbed two bagels before heading to the cold case and selected two bottles of water.  When they walked to the checkout counter and placed their items in front of the clerk, who looked no older than sixteen, Arianna decided to engage him in polite chitchat.

“Hi there,” she leaned forward to read his name
badge, “Charles.  This is a nice town you work in.  You live here?”

Charles blushed
, making the smattering of freckles sprinkled across his nose nearly disappear, lost in flushed flesh.  “Yes ma’am.  I’ve lived here my whole life,” he answered. 

“
Ma’am
?  Do I look like a
ma’am
to you?” Arianna teased and quirked a brow at him. 

“Uh, no, I just, uh,” Charles stammered.  “I didn’t mean to offend—”

“Relax, Charlie.  Don’t get your shorts in a bunch.  I’m just messing with you,” she said and watched as his trembling hands packed their bagels and water into a brown paper bag. 

“Oh, whew,” he said, relief saturating his words.  “That’ll be seven fifty, Miss.”  He emphasized the word “Miss” proudly. 

“Ha!  I like you, Charlie,” Arianna laughed.  She counted out seven dollars then pulled two quarters from her pocket.  She handed him the money.  “So,” she began casually.  “Has anything exciting happened around here recently?”

Charles looked at her strangely. 
“Exciting?  Exciting, like how so?”

Arianna shrugged.  “I don’t know, big news or something.”

“Our Spring Fair was two weeks ago.  That was fun.”

“No, I mean
exciting
,” she prodded and raised her brow. 

He shook his head slowly.  “I can’t say that anything
exciting
has happened recently.  Nothing ever really happens around here.”

Not quite what she’d expected to hear, Charles’ answer was not conducive to what she’d been getting at.  She’d been trying to pry and find out whether a new, absurdly attractive stranger had moved to town and kicked up a ruckus with a local girl or something, anything that would imply Darius’ presence.  She felt him, felt his vile
aura cling to her like scum on a pond, always near, always foul, and expanding rapidly.

“Eh, that’s good, Charlie,” she recovered and tried to pick up where they
’d left off when she realized one too many beats had passed since his comment.  “Well, you have a nice day,” she added as she swiped her bag and made her way out of the market with Desmond in tow. 

Once outside, Desmond said, “Charles seemed like a nice kid.”

“Yeah, if you like the squeaky-clean, zombie type,” she frowned and bobbed one shoulder. 

“What do you mean, zombie?  He seemed like a clean-cut teenager, the kind every parent dreams of, you know polite, employed—”

“All right, all right, I get it,” Arianna interrupted.  “You want to date Charlie.”

“No,” Desmond ground his teeth and said.  “I don’t.  I just think that this might not be the right place.  Is it possible?  Is it possible that this is not where Darius is or was?”