Heven & Hell Anthology (Heven and Hell) (10 page)

“It is done,” the woman said, her voice low and full of authority. It was strangely hypnotizing.

I shook myself, opening my eyes to see I was still in the comfort of my room. “What is?”

“I’ll be accompanying your class to Italy in disguise. We have a deal. I’ll be watching.”

I didn’t say anything else. She was totally creeping me out. When she was gone (about time), I stood in my room for a few long moments before shaking myself and going down to the kitchen, heading for the fancy espresso machine Daddy had installed last year. I grabbed my favorite mug (my name was engraved on it), and with a press of a few buttons, a perfectly created latté began to brew and pour into my cup.

While it brewed I stood there and thought about what just happened. That woman hadn’t even told me her name. It was just as well, I wasn’t about to drink some weird
potion
she claimed would give me powers. She was probably some whack-job drug dealer who thought she could give me a sample of something and then I would want more and more, which she would then charge me for. She was probably just someone who was hoping to take advantage of someone with money. How unfortunate for her I wasn’t that gullible.

When I reached for my completed latté, I was suddenly assaulted with images, stark, clear images that played behind my eyes like a movie.

Cole and Heven. Heven and Cole. He had backed her up against the wall and her face was upturned, her blond hair tickling her shoulders. He wasn’t wearing a shirt and all the muscles in his arms stood out as if he was fighting against himself not to touch her, not to be even closer to her than he already was. His face pointed down, meeting hers halfway, and her eyes were closed. I wanted to cry out when his lips captured hers, his arms going around her like vices, not letting go. He lifted his face, just a fraction above hers, and he smiled.

“Cole,” she whispered, before pulling him back down.

I sank to the floor, not bothering to wipe the tears that fell, one after another, over and over again.

I felt completely and utterly alone. Betrayed by the two people I trusted most.

I don’t know how long I sat there and cried. I replayed the images again and again in my mind. I remembered the way Heven looked when I was watching them through the window tonight, the way he had pulled her close, the blankets piled on the couch.

Eventually, the tears stopped and reality returned. Sitting on Travertine tile was not comfortable, even if it was heated. I stood, wiping my face and grabbing the latté from the machine. I went upstairs where I dumped half a bottle of my most expensive bubble bath into the Jacuzzi tub and turned the water as hot as it would go.

In my room, I took off the red dress and stared down at the bright red color.

I was angry.

No, I was pissed.

I was done being friends with a girl who would treat me this way. I was done being in the shadows. It was time for a little payback. And as far as I knew, payback couldn’t be bought at Walmart (wouldn’t that be convenient?).

But maybe… maybe I had my payback right here.

I glanced down at the little green bottle sitting innocently beside my bed.

Without another thought, I grabbed it and tilted it to my lips.

*    *    *

 “Cole,” I gasped, surprised that he was standing there. “What are you doing here?”

He looked tired. His usually clear blue eyes were dull, and he had that look that said there was something wrong. I felt a moment of happiness because he came to me with whatever was bothering him and not Heven.

“Sit down. What’s wrong?” I asked, preparing to be the best comforting girlfriend I could be.

“I came to apologize,” he said, catching me off-guard.

I sat up in the lounge chair, dropping the magazine I had been barely paying attention to. “Apologize for what?” Like the fact that you slept with my best friend? I couldn’t stop the bitter thought from spearing through my head.

“For the other night, when we got into that fight. I acted like an ass. I had too much to drink and I’m sorry.”

“You’re forgiven.” I sniffed then and drew my feet up so there was room for him to sit next to me on the chair.

“That’s the thing, Kimmie,” he said, sitting in the chair
next
to mine. “I’m tired of being forgiven. I’m tired of fighting.”

“We wouldn’t fight so much if you would stay away from Heven,” I snapped. This was not going the way I thought it would.

“I told you there is nothing going on between me and Heven. Why won’t you believe me?”

Because I saw you with my own two eyes. I saw you touching her.
“Because you’re lying to me.”

Cole sighed deeply and pinched the bridge of his nose with this finger and thumb. “I want to break up.”

I stilled, wondering if I heard what I thought I heard. “Excuse me?”

“I’m sorry. I still care about you, but this isn’t working anymore. I’m tired of fighting, of hurting you, of you not believing me.”

“You’re breaking up with me!” I demanded. If that wasn’t confirmation that he was sneaking around with Heven, I didn’t know what was.

“I really hope we can still be friends.”

“Oh, no,” I said, rising from my chair, giving him a full-on view of me in my new killer bikini. Let him eat his heart out. “
I
don’t get the friends speech. I give it.” He didn’t even have the grace to check me out, but kept his eyes on my face. “Oh, it’s definitely over,” I spat. “You’re going to regret this.”

“I’m sorry. I never wanted to hurt you, Kimber.”

“Yeah, well. If anyone should be sorry, it’s me. I’m sorry I wasted so many years on such a jerk!”

I stepped over the chair to run past him into the house, but he grabbed my wrist and spun me around. “Don’t be like that.”

I gave a halfhearted attempt to pull away before giving up. This was probably the last time he would ever touch me. Sure, we had broken up a million times in the couple of years we were together, but this seemed final somehow. “Like what?”

“Like all my time with you was a waste. It wasn’t.” His voice was low, and it drew me in.

“I hate you right now.”

“Yeah, I know,” he whispered.

He was looking down at me; his eyes were sad and I couldn’t help but lean up into him and press my lips to his. He kissed me back, a slow but short kiss. When he pulled back, he released my wrist. “I hope you change your mind about being friends.”

I swallowed the sob that rose in my throat and turned away, then walked into the house, shutting myself in. Only then did the tears fall.

I watched from behind the curtains as he climbed into his truck and drove away. I wondered if he was going to Heven. The last thing he said replayed through my mind.

No. I wasn’t going to change my mind. Cole and I weren’t meant to be friends. We were meant to be more.

*    *    *

The. Freaking. Nerve. I was so mad I was shaking. She comes over here, waiving a mocha latté (with whip cream and a caramel drizzle!) in my face, knowing I would let her in. I didn’t want to, but a girl needs her caffeine. I hoped she would feel the icy vibe I was throwing off and take the hint and go. But she didn’t seem to notice I wanted nothing to do with her boyfriend-stealing, lying ways.

I wanted so badly to scream I knew all her secrets. That I knew she was dating some freak. But I was sworn to secrecy. And if I wanted to admit it—I still kind of didn’t believe everything Hecate was telling me. I scoffed a second at that woman’s name.
Hecate.
I mean, ew. Her parents must not have liked her much. Hecate was as bad as Helga. It must be why she always looked so flawless, to offset the name she was saddled with. If I were her, I would change it.

She came over here to see if I was drinking a drop a day of that potion she gave me. I told her I was and then she handed me a little box with some weird amulet in it. Then she started flapping her tongue about hellhounds and how dangerous they were and how Heven was dating one. She claims it’s the reason Heven betrayed her and took her precious paper and then betrayed me as well. She thinks Sam is bad news. She said the amulet would somehow mute his powers.

It all seems a little far-fetched to me. Sam—a hellhound? I didn’t even know what that was. All I could think about were all those fantasy shows on TV with werewolves everywhere. Ew. Hairy, drooling beasts. Sam was hot. He never drooled once when we were hanging out—no matter how tight the dress I wore or how much cleavage I flashed. Lack of drool equals no werewolf. Or hellhound or whatever.

When I first saw Heven pull into my driveway, I was tempted to tell her everything—to see what she would say. I wondered if she would laugh and ask me if I was hitting my parents’ wine stash. Then I would laugh too and we could go read fashion magazines by the lake like we used to. But then she marched in here all little miss perfect and started saying she knew my boyfriend’s secrets—ex-boyfriend, that is.

The only reason she had come here at all was because she knew I was going to make her miserable in Italy. I saw her face when she realized we were going to share a hotel room. She looked the way I do when I can’t get a really cute pair of shoes in my size. Well, I
was
going to make her miserable! I stomped into my walk-in closet and pulled out some clothes and shoved them in my suitcase. Then I pulled the box with the amulet out of my robe pocket and stared down at it before burying it beneath a pile of clothes. Heven had zeroed right in on this thing—almost as if she knew it was something I could use against her man. I wasn’t sure if she even would know what it was if she saw it, but I wasn’t about to take the chance and have to try to explain it.

How dare she come over here practically gloating that she knew things about Cole that I didn’t! Then she starts going through my things, snooping—sticking her nose where it didn’t belong!

If she could’ve seen the look on her face when the door slammed behind me; the shock and the fear that I saw pass through her eyes was actually kind of satisfying. Maybe if Heven had a little bit of fear of me in the first place, she never would have went after Cole. I’ve concluded that people being slightly afraid of me might be a good thing.

Though, I admit, I was a little freaked at first too. I hadn’t meant to do it—to slam the door, but I was pretty sure I had done it. Apparently, that stuff Hecate gave me was no joke. The good news was I didn’t think it was drugs—becoming a druggie was
so
uncool. My magic was making appearances in strange ways, like slamming doors and burning out light bulbs when I touched the light switches.

I picked up my cell phone and hit the button for Cole, but before I hit SEND, I threw it down on my bed. He wouldn’t answer. He hadn’t answered after we left the Italy trip meeting and neither did my parents. As far as they were concerned, they forked over a few thousand dollars and that meant they were free of me for the summer.

I was pathetic.