Breathless (5 page)

I guess he sees how her name affects me because it’s his turn to try to comfort me. He stands and slides his hands into his pockets. “Look, man, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought her up.”

“No, it’s fine. I deserve it.”

“None of us deserve what happened to her.”

“She didn’t.” My voice cracks, and I turn my back to him so he doesn’t see the tear fall down my cheek. I don’t deserve to cry over her. Not after what I did. But here I am… crying.

“No, she didn’t, but that’s in the past. We have to focus on now.”

“You’re right.” I wipe the tears away, will my eyes to not be red, and turn around to face my big brother. “Why would Hell make you see Gracen?”

“I don’t think it did. I think it was really her.”

That makes no sense. “Can’t be. I was with her. After the Hell gate, I was with her. I talked to her. I, you know, hung out. It was really Gracen.”

“Didn’t Seth stab her? With the demon-killing knife?” I can see the wheels in Lucien’s brain turning. I’m not sure I like where they’re going.

“Yeah…” I drawl out.

“And she died?”

“I don’t… I don’t know. I thought she was, and then she looked at me, so I thought she had lived somehow.”

“What if…” Lucien starts, and I lean back against the closet doors. No good sentence ever started with what if. “What if she died? And because of the demon blood, she went to Hell, but she crawled out when it was opened—or some of her did.”

“And you think part of her stayed down there? To torture you?” Because that makes total sense in the way that it doesn’t.

“I think part of her was forced to stay down there. For whatever reason. But I know for a fact that it was Gracen. No doubts. None. And I know that whatever the Abomination is, it has to be…”

He stops very abruptly. Too abruptly for my taste. It definitely catches my attention. “Has to be what?”

He clears his throat and bites his lip. Lucien always had tells when he was lying. His biggest one… when he lies, he can’t look into your eyes. He looks at your nose or your ear or something in the vicinity of the eye but never the actual eye.

Lucien looks me directly in the eye. “Go take a shower. Get cleaned up. I’ll be waiting for you when you get out, and then we can talk about this. I think we have a lot to talk about.”

“I think I need to find Gracen.”

“I think you’ll find her after you take a shower and we talk. We have time. Cats and dogs haven’t started falling from the sky yet.”

He has a point. As much as I need to go find Gracen, I do need to get this mud off. And I do need to take some time to regroup. I have no idea where Gracen is or where I can find her. I don’t know the first place to look. Maybe a hot shower will help me think. I need a plan. Not some willy-nilly, fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants thing, but a real life plan. This is too serious to go in half-cocked.

So I reluctantly agree. “Okay. Fine. One short shower. Then we talk in the kitchen to set up a plan.”

“Sounds good.” Lucien smiles. I can see the tiredness in his eyes.

I nod, there’s nothing else to say, and go toward the door. I stop when I reach the threshold. “Lucien, I have to get her back.”

“You will,” he says in that reassuring way he has about him.

I love my big brother.

I’m glad we’re finally on the same side.

I hear the phone ring, and I don’t even stop to question it. I simply open doors until I find the bathroom, and then I turn on the lights and strip down. I’ll have to find some more clothes. I don’t even care. A quick shower sounds heavenly.

I cover the mirror with a blanket just in case I catch a glimpse. I don’t want to see myself.

I don’t want to think about myself.

Gracen is my main concern.

I have to make sure she’s all right.

I have to protect her.

I love her too much to let her down.

CHAPTER TEN

Hart

I
BELIEVE THIS IS THE BEST
shower I’ve ever had in my entire life.

That’s saying a lot.

Well, maybe not.

This body has never had a shower.

Which is strange to think about.

Way back in the day, we had a wash tub with water heated on the fire… occasionally. Lucien got his water heated more than I did. I was lucky to get water.

But I digress.

I’d taken showers as Sam, of course. I always loved them. I always made them extra scalding. I said at the time it was because I liked the heat. Now I think it was because maybe I was trying to wash away all my ugly sins, purify myself or something.

Or maybe I was just making up for all those cold baths.

Who knows?

I spend much more time in the shower than I intended. I thought I’d just hop in and get out. Then I’d go after Gracen.

But once the water hit, and all the dirt and mud and blood just slid down me and down the drain, I knew that I didn’t want to get out. Time slipped away, and it wasn’t until the water turned cold that I realized that maybe I should get out.

Maybe.

I use some coconut-scented shampoo and get my hair all nice and lathered. As I wash it away, I lean my head against the shower stall, shut my eyes, and for the first time in as long as I can remember, I let my mind go blank.

I enjoy the water.

I enjoy the feeling of it sliding over me.

I enjoy the sensation of all the sins and all the evilness as it washes away, just disappearing down the drain.

If only life were that easy. If only we could take a shower or a bath, and poof, we were forgiven of everything. Everything was washed away.

I don’t know if I could ever be forgiven for what I’ve done.

Not only to Gracen. Maybe I could be forgiven for that. I was a demon after all, doing demonly things.

But as a brother.

I killed my brother.

Who does that?

I’m a murderer.

Plain and simple, and nothing I can ever do will take that away from me.

I wish I could change things. I can’t. I have to live with them. I have to make things right with Lucien.

The water is nearly freezing when I pull my forehead off the shower wall and turn the water off. Whoever lives there will get a surprising water bill, if they ever come back.

I don’t want to know what Seth did to them. Sometimes the less you know, the better.

Knowing less would be a blessing.

I get out and wrap a towel around me, still marveling at how this old body doesn’t have a scratch on it. I know Gracen had to have done it somehow, resurrected my brother and me. I should thank her for it when I see her. I should’ve taken the time to figure out where to look first instead of being selfish and disappearing into the numbness of my mind.

I hope I didn’t waste too much time because I have to find her.

If I can find her, I know I can stop her.

She’ll listen to me…

Right?

Maybe.

I mean, I’ve done nothing but lie to her. I lied to her about who she really is, and I lied to her about why we needed to go and visit her mother. And I lied to her when I told her I didn’t love her. Or when I implied it.

So, in what world would she trust me?

In what world am I the good guy?

It makes absolutely no sense.

I dry off and toss the towel down on the floor. Another mystery for the people of the house when they get home. I let the breeze hit my bare bits as I walk into the bedroom and try for the second time to find some clothes. This time I find some black workout pants with a white stripe going down the side and a black V-neck shirt. I’m okay with this. I put them on, grab some socks and shoes, and head downstairs to continue my talk with Lucien.

I’m still reeling from the fact that he swears Gracen tortured him in Hell. There is no way. Unless he’s right, and she did lose a part of herself down there. Maybe we all do. Maybe we all left some little piece of us in the pit, and we’ll never get it back. I can’t stand the thought of Gracen, or something like Gracen, torturing people. She’s not that kind of person. She would be trying to help them, not hurt them.

Then again, I saw what my brother was like in Gracen’s bedroom. His eyes were jet black, and he attacked me like nothing I’d ever seen before. Something had done a number on him. Something I don’t want to think about as Gracen. Something that no longer was her, if that’s what happened.

I’m confused.

I’m also confused by the smell of sausage that meets me as I reach the top of the stairs. I smell the sausage, hear what I suppose is eggs frying, and can see the smoke bellowing up the stairs like it often does when you cook breakfast foods. In a few minutes, I won’t be surprised when the fire alarm goes off.

I stop when I’m halfway down the steps. Lucien’s in the kitchen. Cooking away. I swear he’s whistling while he works.

That does it.

That’s it.

I’m in the twilight zone. I’ve… yup. Twilight. Zone.

And my brother has come with me.

“What in the world are you doing?” I ask as I step off the bottom step and into the kitchen. Everything smells so much better down here, if that’s even possible. Honestly, it smells like our house the last time we were there. Father fixed Lucien and me a huge breakfast. It was more than either of us could eat. Father wanted us full for our travels. The food didn’t last long. I hope today isn’t a reenactment of that.

The kitchen table is so full of platters I don’t know how he’ll fit anything else. If I know my brother, he’ll figure out a way. He always does. Biscuits, homemade I’m assuming, tower on platters so high I fear they’ll fall. And all the sausage and bacon I think I could eat for twenty years.

We have eggs.

And butter.

And jelly.

And jam.

And anything else I can think of.

It’s all there.

My brother is standing at the stove, whistling. An apron is tied around his waist. When he turns, I see that it reads, “Kiss the Cook.”

I look down.

He looks down.

His cheek flashes pink. “It was all they had.”

“Uh-huh.” I nod as I motion toward the table. “You feeding an army?”

“Not that I know of. But if one shows up…” He jumps as his sausage pops in the pan, and the grease hits him somewhere in the back region. “Stupid… I always liked eating sausage more than cooking it.”

“Don’t we all.” I clear my throat and decide I might as well sit down. What else is there to do at the moment? “So, you cooked all of this?”

“Do you see anyone else here?”

Snarky Lucien. I like him. “Jerk. I mean,
why
did you cook all of this?”

“Because I’m starving. I don’t know about you, but I feel like I’ve just crawled out of my grave.” He turns and winks. That sentence sounds really, really weird.

“Touché. Yeah, come to think of it, I’m starving too. I don’t think I can eat all of this, though.” I pick up a piece of bacon and take a bite.

Oh.

My.

Land.

It might be the best piece of bacon I’ve ever eaten in my life.

Gracen’s mom always cooked turkey bacon, which tasted like a burned chicken. And then after we moved in together, Gracen only cooked turkey bacon because that’s what her mom poisoned her with.

So to actually get some fresh-from-the-pig bacon is… wow. I’m in Heaven. That’s it. That what this is. This is Heaven. I’ve made it. I’ve…

I take another bite, and my eyes roll back in my head.

This might be better than sex.

It’s been a long time for that too.

Anyway…

“Good, ain’t it?” Lucien pops a piece of sausage in his mouth and shuts his eyes. “Tastes like home.”

“Yes, it does.” I finish my piece of bacon and grab for another. Lucien has made enough food. There is no sense in wasting it. “Where did you find it all?”

“These people seemed to like their meat. There is a huge freezer of it out back.”

I don’t feel bad for eating their food. I guess I’m the anti-Goldilocks. I’ll sleep in their bed too if I have to. Crashing after a big meal sounds wonderful.

But I won’t because I have to find Gracen. The world to save and all.

A man can’t stop his saving-the-world duties every time there is a promise of bacon.

That would be wrong.

And this bacon tastes oh so right.

I pick at the platters while Lucien finishes up cooking. I don’t talk to him. I’m too busy munching away. He doesn’t talk to me. I guess he’s too busy cooking.

Finally he gets finished and sets the newest plate of sausage and bacon on the table. We have to move some things around, but we do it. When we are determined, we can do anything. Who knew bacon was a metaphor for life?

Lucien grabs his plate and fills it up so much there isn’t any white left. I do the same.

I start to dig in when he clears his throat.

When I look up, his hands are folded neatly on the table… in a praying position.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“It’s tradition.”

“It’s stupid.”

“I’m an angel.”

“You’re a human. We’re screwed, and I don’t think any amount of praying is going to help.” I choose not to tell him that I’ve prayed in the past. What self-respecting demon prayed? Or at the very least admitted to it. It isn’t like God hears us. Or if He does, He probably laughs. Silly little demons had their shot…

Lucien glares at me. He has on his determined face. Good glory. “I’m praying.”

“Good for you.” I pick up a piece of bacon, but the invisible darts his eyes are flinging toward me make me stop. “Whatever.” I grumble as I toss the bacon on my overflowing plate and bow my head.

I look up through my eyelashes enough to see Lucien smile. I’m glad I made him happy. I really am. No sarcasm intended. That’s one good deed for the day.

Mark that off the list.

“Our dear Heavenly Father, thank you for this food. Thank you for bringing us back together. Thank you for taking care of us. God, we pray that everything works out with… everything. We pray that things get resolved quickly and everything returns as it should be. In Jesus’ name we pray, Amen.”

“Amen,” I say because it seems polite.