Heven & Hell Anthology (Heven and Hell) (19 page)

I sat there on the ground, silently crying long after the light had faded and the physical pain had stopped. I tried to comprehend the emptiness inside me and the way the air pressed in on my empty back. They were gone. I would never know what it was to fly again. I would never feel the rush of the wind, the freedom of the open air against my skin, for the rest of my entire endless existence.

Finally, I looked up. Airis was still there, but she turned to walk away.

“I still love him, you know,” I said, my voice rougher than ever before.

She stopped and turned back. “I know. It is why you have not been banned to hell, but confined to the earth. You committed a crime. But the crime was committed out of love. Father knows you still love him, Gemma. You just don’t love him enough.”

She disappeared then. I knew I would never see her again.

Callum wrapped his arms around me and lifted me from the ground, cradling me against his chest. I imagined I must have felt awfully light without my wings.

“They punished you for loving me.” His voice was raw.

No. They punished me for not loving God enough.
“It could have been worse,” I said, realizing I was lucky to not be sentenced to a life in hell. It was proof that God, my Father, was a forgiving being.

If I couldn’t love him from heaven, then I would continue to do so from Earth.

“How? How could things have been worse?”

“They could have taken my wings
and
you away.”

His hold on me tightened. “I’m not going anywhere.”

I laid my head against his chest as he walked away from the place where I fell. Considering this primitive, raw place was now my home, I was more than relieved to hear him say that.

After I Fell

Six months. That’s how long we had together. In those six months I learned a lot about human emotion and how to live somewhere that was a far cry from perfection. Callum built us a cottage in the woods, near the stream where we met. My favorite thing to do was soak my feet in the water, as I often did, sometimes for hours at a time when Callum was at work or off spending time with the son I hadn’t known he had.

Learning to live without my wings was something I wasn’t sure I would ever get used to. Perhaps after many, many years they would only be a memory, but even when I told myself that, something inside me whispered that I would never really forget.

For the most part, we were happy. It wasn’t the blissful, all-encompassing happiness that I knew only existed in heaven. It had its ups and downs, its smiles and frowns. Callum was a man of many moods. I knew most of that was because of the beast. His emotions seemed to run hot and cold and he would fight them, doing his best to battle the side of him he wasn’t quite sure how to control.

That first month was the hardest because he walked around in fear. Fear that he would lose control and hurt someone, hurt me. I knew he wouldn’t. There was too much goodness in him, and the more time that passed the more he began to believe it too.

We laughed a lot, kissed a lot, and ate a lot. Earth was home to more tastes than I ever imagined and learning about them all was an adventure.

I hadn’t seen Callum in almost two days when he pulled into the yard, cutting the engine of the motorcycle that he drove. I was hanging clothes on a line he’d strung between the trees and I dropped what I was holding and ran to meet him. He smiled and kissed me as he always did, but I saw something brewing in his eyes. The beast was close to the surface and it made me afraid.

“Is everything okay, Callum?” I asked, wondering what could’ve changed since the last time I saw him, when he was happy and relaxed.

“Nothing for you to worry about,” he said, setting me away from him.

I went back to the laundry and he went inside to change. I was humming my favorite hymn when I heard him yelling from inside the house, calling my name. I turned just as he burst through the door, racing toward me, fear on his face.

“What’s the matter?”

“Get in the house. Lock yourself in,”

A voice from behind, someone concealed by the sheet hanging on the line, spoke up. “You think those walls will keep me out?”

I turned, yanking the sheet down to reveal a man with dark hair and brown eyes. He had cruelty written on his features.

“No. But I sure as hell will.” Callum snarled.

Who was this man? Callum seemed to know him, but it didn’t seem to be a pleasant acquaintance. I watched his body shake and quiver just like it always did before he shifted, but instead of shedding his skin and sprouting fur, he fell to his knees and let out a cry.

“I prefer you in your human form,” the man said, holding up some kind of amulet.

“What is that?” I asked.

“Get in the house, Gemma,” Callum ordered again, but his voice was strained and weak.

From out of the trees three others materialized. They weren’t human. From the grossly formed faces, disfigured bodies, and empty eyes, I knew these were the demons I’d heard Sinead mention a few times before. I looked back at the man holding the amulet. He smiled and my skin crawled.

I ran toward the house, but I felt the pull of invisible ropes as they wrapped themselves around me, tugged, and then suspended me just above the ground.

“She isn’t part of this,” Callum said as he struggled to his feet.

“Perhaps not, but this way she can see what happens when you fail to fulfill a deal that is signed in blood.”

“What is he talking about, Callum?” I asked.

He looked at me, guilt marring his features. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” I asked, fear beginning to claw at the back of my throat.

“For everything,” he said as sweat dripped down his face. His skin was pale and he swayed on his feet. That amulet had to be the cause of his weakened state.

“Allow me to explain,” said the man with the dark hair. “This man here made a deal. In exchange for his hellhound status, he would indebt himself and future hounds in his lineage to me. He would be there when I called.”

I glanced at Callum, trying to catch his eye, but he wouldn’t look at me.

“But I have called twice now. And twice he has refused me.”

“That wasn’t a deal,” Callum spat. “It was a curse!”

“We can work this—” I began, but he held up his hand to say, “No. There is no working anything out. That wasn’t the deal.”

I began to struggle against the invisible binds that held me. To try and break free. To be a participant instead of a victim.

There was no escape.

“Run, Callum. Run,” I told him, pleading with him to go.

He shook his head. “I’m not leaving you here.”

I didn’t have time to argue because the demons pounced. They jumped him from all sides. He did his best to fight them off, but there were three of them and only one of him—and he wasn’t able to shift, the one thing that would save his life.

I had to watch, in horror, as he was overcome by the demons, pushed to the ground, and I could see nothing but a pile of bodies and hear the sickening thud of flesh.

After a few moments a scarlet trail of blood began to run. It slid from beneath the pile of bodies and crept toward me, telling me everything I needed to know.

The demons stood, looking satisfied and vile. The man stuffed the amulet in his pocket and turned to walk away, calling after the creatures who did his dirty work. When they were almost out of sight, the binds that held me released and I was dropped onto the ground like a sack of flour. I scrambled on all fours toward Callum, who lay in the grass unmoving and bent at odd angles.

“Callum!” I cried, reaching him, grabbing his face and turning his head in my direction. He was covered in blood and it was impossible to tell what injuries were the worst. I didn’t bother to try to decide.

Instead, I raised my hands above his body, palms down, and reached inside me, calling on one of the powers that hadn’t been stripped away. I healed him for hours, stopping only when I collapsed. I poured out every last shred of effort I had, letting it flow over and around him.

I woke in the dark, lying across his chest, sticky with his blood. “Callum?” I said softly, leaning over him, waiting to see the fluttering of his eyes.

His eyes didn’t move. His skin was cold and his lips were blue.

I learned another hard lesson that night in the woods.

You cannot heal those who are already dead.

And so I buried him. It took me a full day to dig a hole big enough to fit him. I positioned it near the stream, but beneath the trees. I planted some wildflowers over the freshly turned earth and I mourned. I grieved so long that I began to use that grief to build a wall around myself so I would never know pain like this again.

I had lost everything.

The only thing I had left was my never-fading love for God (yes, even now) and my existence.

I understood the feeling of weakness that had driven Callum to make the deal in order to save me because I now felt it too. I’d been too weak to save him. I had to stand by and watch as someone stole his life.

And like Callum, I wanted to find the strength to save him. But it was too late. But those who took away his life still roamed this world. There was, no doubt, evil lurking in the shadows right this very minute, waiting to pounce on some innocent somewhere.

Yes, I wanted strength. But unlike Callum, I wasn’t going to bargain for it. I was going to
earn
it. I was going to train, I was going to learn, and I was going to hunt down Sinead and force him to teach me the Guardian ways.

I might be forced to walk this earth alone forever, but I was damn sure gonna kick some ass in the meantime.

Present Day

I didn’t like when the season’s changed. I used to. Years ago when I first fell, the rotating weather was exciting. Each time Mother Nature gave birth to a new season, it brought with it something beautiful, from joyful flowers pushing through the earth to trees becoming a kaleidoscope of colors or snow blanketing the world in white. I still thought the changing seasons were beautiful, but they were also inconvenient. Like right now.

I was sitting on the roof’s ledge, ignoring the way the chill in the wind made my muscles tense and my fingertips sting. Never before had I stayed this long in one place. The longest I ever remained anywhere was ten days, and it had been warm there. Usually, at the first sign of cold weather, I would leave, simply go where the air was warm and the sky stayed blue. It certainly made sleeping outside much more comfortable. But here I was, sitting on this rooftop, looking out over trees that would soon be bare and likely covered with snow. Sleeping in a tree without the concealment and protection of the leaves wasn’t ideal, but it also wasn’t impossible. I’d done it before. But, sleeping in a bare tree that was also covered in snow? Not going to happen. I shivered just thinking about it.

For a moment I let myself think about heaven and how warm it always was. There was never a time when you didn’t feel wrapped in comfort and warmth. After all these years, I still remembered the way it felt to be there. I didn’t think I would ever forget. Heaven was a place that was sacred. I’d been created there. It was part of me—a part I liked to keep buried deep within me. It wasn’t because I was ashamed. Ashamed that I fell, that I betrayed who I was supposed to be. No, it was because it was private. Heaven was a place that only those who lived there could understand just how wholly wonderful it really was. It was a reward, a reward for a life well lived, for those who truly believed in its existence.

I missed it there.

It was a thought I very seldom allowed myself. But I guess sitting here in the dark with the air nipping at my cheeks, I was having a moment of weakness. Yes, definitely that, because I also shouldn’t be here at all. I should be out looking for someone to help, for some good that needed done.

I certainly shouldn’t be sitting on the roof that belonged to the man I was supposed to be letting go.

I stood, rubbing my hands together, and peered down into the yard below, ready to jump. But the sound of a window opening to my right stopped me. I glanced over and something in my chest squeezed when Cole stuck his head out of the dark space.

“Gemma? What are you doing out there?”

I didn’t say anything. I was afraid to. I was afraid if I opened my mouth, then all the feelings that were swimming around inside me would escape and once the truth was out, it would change everything.

“Come in here,” he said, ignoring my silence and pushing the window up a little wider, stepping back to make room for me.

I glanced back down into the yard. I should go. I was just going to. Before I saw him.

I looked back at the window, where I could make out his waiting shape in the shadows. I don’t know why he was standing in the dark, and I didn’t bother to ask him. Instead, I made my way along the roof line, until his window was directly below me. It wasn’t hard to hang from the roof’s edge by my hands and swing myself inside. I’d done it more times than I probably should have.

I landed softly, with a barely noticeable thump, just inside the room, with my back to him and his window. I didn’t turn around right away. Instead, I stood there listening to the sound of him sliding the window closed, trying to come up with a reason I’d been sitting on his rooftop in the first place.

“It’s not summer anymore,” he said quietly. “Are you cold?”

I glanced at his bed. Memories of the night he pulled me into it with him speared through my brain. The way his hands had felt on me was practically sinful, and God help me, I loved every single second of it. I loved it so much it scared me. Cole was off-limits. Why couldn’t I seem to remember that?

“Hey,” he said from right next to me. I felt his fingers wrap around my elbow and my eyes closed. “Is everything okay? My sister…”

I turned to face him, my movement breaking the hold he had on my arm. “Heven is fine. As far as I know, everything’s fine.”

He nodded. Then I saw the white of his teeth against the dark. “So you’re here because you missed me?”

Yes. More than anything.
“What are you doing sitting around in the dark?”

“Did you think I wasn’t home?” He grinned again.

Actually, that’s exactly what I thought. “I think it’s creepy that you sit around in the dark.”

 He laughed. “I wasn’t sitting around in the dark. I was downstairs, and I just walked in here when I saw some movement out the window.” He moved away toward the table by the bed and switched on a lamp, flooding the room with light. I blinked against the brightness as he walked toward his dresser that was sitting against the far wall and picked up a navy blue mug and brought it over, holding it out.

“What’s this?” I asked, the scent of chocolate already wafting toward me.

“Cocoa,” he replied. “Your cheeks are pink from the cold. Looks like you could use this.”

It smelled so good so I reached out and took it. When my fingers brushed his, my throat suddenly felt as if I swallowed dust. I lifted the mug to my lips, drinking some of the liquid. It was rich and hot and the dryness in my throat absorbed the treat like a bone-dry sponge. I looked up to see Cole watching me with intense cobalt eyes that appeared slightly darker than usual. I realized then that I was drinking from his mug… placing my lips where his likely had just been.

I cleared my throat and stepped away, wrapping both my hands around the cup. “Have you talked to Heven lately?”

I thought they would’ve been in contact every day… that she would’ve told him in detail everything she saw in my mind that day she invaded it, but his question moments before, his concern for her, made me think otherwise.

“Hardly at all since Logan’s funeral. I thought she and Sam needed some space. She’s been through a lot. And then school started and it never seemed like the right time to bring everything up…” His voice trailed away and he shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans.

He doesn’t know,
a voice in my head whispered.
He doesn’t know you love him.

Part of me was actually bereft that he didn’t know, but the sensible side of me knew this was a good thing. It was for his own protection that he not know how I really feel.

“It’s probably good they have a little space.” I agreed.

“What are you doing here, Gemma?” Cole said, dropping the fake conversation.

“I…” I didn’t know what to say.

“If you wanted to see me, then tell me.” He stepped closer and I couldn’t help but notice the way the muscles in his shoulders bunched beneath the blue sweater he wore.

I gripped the mug like it was my lifeline, but couldn’t tear my eyes away from his intent stare as he prowled even closer.

“Have you decided to finally admit how you feel?”

“I shouldn’t be here,” I said, my voice coming out as a whisper.

“Why? Why shouldn’t you be here?” he said, reaching out and taking the mug, setting it aside so there was nothing but charged space between us. “I
want
you here.”

I want you here…
His words melted something inside me. “I have to do what’s best for you,” I said, more to remind myself than him.

“You’re what’s best for me,” he said, and I watched as he reached out his large, calloused hands, brushed the thickness of my hair behind my shoulders, and cupped my face. “When are you gonna let me in, Gems?” His breath brushed over me. It smelled like chocolate, and everything inside me from the ribcage down trembled with the proof that his lips actually had been on that mug.

“I can’t.” I was ashamed that my voice actually cracked.

“Yes, yes, you can,” he whispered, lowering his lips toward mine and tilting my chin up until the space between us was practically gone and our breath mingled together in a chocolate explosion.

He was going to kiss me. I wanted him to, desperately, madly, deeply. I closed my eyes and waited for the first taste of his lips, but he stopped mere centimeters from mine. I held back the plea that just about escaped my throat.

“I won’t hurt you. I promise.”

His words cut through me like the winter wind and jerked me back into reality. I stepped back quickly, stumbling. He reached out to steady me, but I twisted, avoiding his touch. He thought I was so resistant to him because I was afraid of getting hurt. He thought my past with Callum had left me broken and hard. Maybe it had… but whatever parts of me that had been damaged were mended the first time he laid his lips on mine.

This wasn’t about me. It was about him.

About what my love would cost him.

“I’m sorry,” I said when I looked up and caught the flash of hurt on his face. “I can’t do this to you.”

“Do what to me?”

“Let you sacrifice yourself.”

“How is my loving you a sacrifice?”

“Don’t say that!” I gasped.

The words dangled between us like a spider on a thread of web. I wanted to pluck them out of the air and stomp them out, but I couldn’t. The mere idea made me want to weep. Words like that… feelings like that should be tucked somewhere safe inside the person the words were meant for… but I couldn’t let those feelings in. I had to wear a coat of armor around me to keep them out because that was the only way he would truly be safe.

“Say what?” he challenged. “That I—”

I held up my hand. “Please don’t say it. You have no idea what it will cost you.”

“Then tell me. Make me understand.” He stepped forward and I moved around him, toward the window.

He reached out and grabbed my wrist, whirling me around to face him. “How dare you,” he growled. “How dare you walk into my life, make me feel things I never felt before—things I know you feel too—and then just walk away.”

“Cole, I—”

His grip on my wrist tightened and he jerked me a little closer, cutting off my excuses. “But you can’t completely walk away, can you? So instead, you keep coming back, torturing us both.”

I snatched my wrist away. “I’m not trying to torture you,” I snapped.

“Tell me.” He demanded.

“Tell you what?” I challenged.

“Tell me what the price is to love you. I’ll pay it.”

I sucked in a breath and just stood there staring at the blue fire raging in his eyes. In that moment I was utterly frozen. His defiance was so brilliant I had no response. How was it that I, a fallen angel, destined to walk the earth alone, came into such a gift?