Saved by the Spell (Of Mystics and Mayhem Book 2) Page 9
Johnna’s cute face scrunched into a frown. “If anyone can, it would be Grandpops. Not to get off this wonderfully stimulating subject, but what possible problem can the succubi have? Abstinence?” She grinned.
Niki groaned. “You had to go there, didn’t you? Your grandfather hasn’t been able to find the answers yet. However, he did say we would find someone who could help us. Someone inside the Nightmare Realm.”
All eyes turned to stare at me. I backed up a couple of steps, my suddenly sweaty palms facing them. “Oh no. No, no, no. I am not this helpful person you’re talking about. I don’t know where I am, how to get out of this hellhole, or how to help myself, much less you guys.”
“This is definitely no hellhole,” Johnna said. “Been there, done that. This place is extravagant compared to a hellhole.”
“Whatever.” I used the snippiest tone possible, beyond tired of listening to their problems. I had enough of my own and no one seemed to care about them except me.
Malachi stepped forward. “As I mentioned before but will repeat again since you don’t see to comprehend what I say, you are in one of the regions of Dark World. Or as humans call it, Hell, which is technically incorrect. As you’ve already experienced, this region is for eternal punishment of sins committed in regular life.”
“If that’s your version of a pep talk, don’t bother. It sucked.” Not to mention scaring me to death. Again. I glanced over at Niki and Johnna. “Look, you don’t know me, but how many sins could I have committed to end up here? I’m only twenty-four. I think. For all I know, I could have been here for decades. I’ve known some really, really horrible people, and I’m nothing like them.”
My heart squeezed, making me concentrate on pushing air in and out of my quivering lungs. I couldn’t be a horrible person and not realize it, could I? I never meant to kill any of them.
“Decades? What decade was it when you were sent here?” Johnna asked.
“The Seventies.”
Johnna’s eyes widened. “The Nineteen Seventies?”
I nodded. “Nineteen-seventy-seven to be exact.”
She chuckled. “You look good for your age.”
Niki turned his head toward the columns behind us, thoughtfully bunching his brows. “Malachi, you said earlier you sensed something wrong here, and both Danielle and Regan reported the same. What do you think is causing it?”
Malachi shook his head, his gaze also drawn to the valley floor. “I don’t know. This realm should be full of creatures—prisoners from all realms.” He spread his arms outward. “Yet, we stand here alone. These grotesque columns are all that remain of them.”
Johnna’s eyes widened. “You mean all those columns used to be people?”
Malachi nodded. “People, demons, vampyres, among others.” He growled, startling me. “These beings are supposed to be tortured for eternity, not die.”
My psyche took another major hit. I was supposed to suffer eternal damnation? Guess life really wasn’t fair. I hadn’t even realized I was crying until Johnna wiped my tears away with her thumbs.
“But I’m not a bad person,” I sobbed.
She wrapped her arms around me in a tight embrace and whispered in my ear, “No, you aren’t. We will figure this out, Willow. I promise.” She then did the one thing I’d always secretly wished for but had never received. Not once in my entire life. She hugged me while I cried.
Unfortunately, one thing I knew beyond the shadow of a doubt, was that everyone looked horrid after they cry. As for me, was there actually anything worse than horrid? I finally stopped blubbering, only to restart again when Johnna lost her cool and joined me in tears, when she began telling me about her parents. My sobs slowly tapered off to an occasional sniffle and hiccup. Attractive, right?
I kept my gaze trained on my dusty Nike sneakers. They no longer looked pretty nor as white as they had the day I borrowed them from Tish. The red was still a perfect match to my sweater, and now the wounds I sported on each arm and my elbows. I was embarrassed at falling apart. What did Malachi think of me now? Silly little girl? Pathetic little girl was more like it.
Having seen—many times—how I looked after crying, I knew my eyes were puffy and bloodshot, but my nose would also resemble Rudolph’s shiny red beacon. My face, because of my pale complexion, would get a mottled, sick look rivaling a dead person’s after a crying binge. I might not be the smartest person, but I wasn’t dumb enough to let these two calendar-worthy male specimens see me in my current pathetic state. And Niki and Malachi were definitely calendar-worthy males.
“Here,” Johnna whispered. “Let me help.”
She took my hands, holding them loosely in her own. A tickle of heat flushed over and through me, leaving a warm, comfortable sensation in its wake. It made me think of how I felt drinking my favorite coffee on a cold day. After a few seconds, I was able to breathe through my nose much easier, and the skin around my eyes didn’t feel as swollen. My racing heart decreased to a regular rhythm.
Johnna squeezed my hands. “Better?”
All I could do was nod. Anything I tried to say got stuck in my throat. I’d never met anyone like her. She had shown me more kindness in the short time I’d known her than anyone else ever had. Even the demons were more respectful. There had to be some sort of irony there. Instead of hanging around to stare at my discomfort, these two actually moved off and allowed me some space.
Their macho stances and matching scowls told me their conversation was a serious one. Maybe whatever they were talking about would give me the perfect excuse to shelve my little pity party. I could only hope.
I gave Johnna my best smile. “Thank you. I tend to let my emotions get bottled up until they sort of explode. Just fair warning for the next time.”
She laughed. “Duly noted. I’m the same way, although your anger probably doesn’t kill people.”
My eyes widened. “Not that I know of, but there have been a few unexplained . . . issues in my past.”
She tilted her head. “Really?”
As we joined the men, Niki’s commanding tone pulled me into their conversation more so than what he said, while Malachi’s features were more determined, his look sharp and edgy.
Johnna moved away from my side and pushed between them, linking her arms through theirs. Did she fear anything? “Well?” she asked expectantly, her pretty face turned up as her gaze moved from one to the other. “What’s the plan? Willow and I vote for leaving. What about you two?”
I watched in amazement. Yep. She was fearless.
“Malachi and I agreed we need to find Lucien,” Niki said. “Since Willow can’t teleport out of here, we’ll go to the nearest border. It isn’t too far from here.” He turned and headed back in the direction where he’d first appeared, not even waiting to see if any of us had other ideas.
“Hold on there, mister.” Johnna reached out and snagged his arm, forcing him to stop.
I planted my fists on my hips and adopted attitude. “You know there’s nothing out there but more chaos—massive destruction, impassable fire pits, and a whole slew of worse stuff?”
“Are you always this pessimistic?” Malachi shot me a sideways glance.
“Yep. Usually more so. I’m an optimistic pessimist. Deal with it.”
He let out a loud bark of laughter. “I’m not the one tagging along. You are. Why should I have to ‘deal with it’ as you so eloquently put it?”
“Well, I’m not leaving, so you still have to deal with it.”
Malachi groaned and rolled his eyes, his gaze landing on Johnna. “Are you sure you two aren’t related? Or is this a woman thing?”
Johnna’s grin was the epitome of mischievous. She quickly nodded, her grin widening. “You’re all right. I like you.”
“You would,” Malachi muttered and stomped off
, mumbling under his breath. I let Johnna fall in behind him and watched the three of them walk away.
For the first time since Tish’s death, my shoulders felt lighter and breathing didn’t seem quite so burdensome. Something inside still held me back. After everything I’d been through in my life, I wasn’t sure how to trust. I forced one foot forward then the other until my pace quickened, and I’d caught up to them. My only option at the moment was hoping and praying this time would be different.
Several hours passed, from what I could tell, but with the wonkiness of the realm, who really knew? We seemed to walk for hours. The unchanging land, coupled with everyone’s silence, unnerved me.
I kept my mouth shut until I couldn’t stand the silence any longer. “Don’t you guys ever get tired?” I tripped over another rock for the hundredth time but caught myself before I face-planted the ground. “Stupid rock,” I muttered underneath my breath. I glowered at the offending rock, giving it my best death stare through my narrowed eyes.
“Is anyone going to answer me? Malachi, I know you said nothing affects us here, so why am I tired?”
“Honestly, I have no clue and have been trying to figure it out myself,” he said. “The system runs itself. Think of it as a living entity—you or me. The realm feeds off the guilt, which is what cycles the punishments. The more sins one has committed, the more the realm feeds and requires more sin.”
“That was a tad more information than I needed,” I groaned. “It still doesn’t explain why I’m tired.”
“What about this?” Johnna proposed. “Malachi, you’re in charge here. If the realm isn’t getting enough sin to generate punishments, wouldn’t that be catamount to throwing a wrench into an engine? It won’t work right if that happens.”
“Hold on a minute. Do you mean to tell me you are responsible for my nightmares?” I asked Malachi, trying to keep my huffing and puffing to a minimum since no one in front of me seemed ready to stop for a break. I slowed a bit, forcing air through my mouth, and pushed my body to continue, figuring I’d embarrassed myself enough already to last my lifetime.
“Not really,” he grumbled.
“Why can’t you ever give me a straight answer?”
“Because it’s not as simple as you seem to think. Every person sent to this realm already created their own nightmares by committing sins. The realm tunes in to the person’s repressed guilt like a radio tunes in to your favorite station. My brothers and I make sure there are no wrenches thrown into the proverbial engine.”
A lightbulb clicked on in my head. “I think I get what you’re saying. Growing up, people always say your sins will catch up with you, and you’re saying we actually do reap what we sow.”
“Exactly.”
I mulled over what he’d said, but something still nagged at me. “Are we guilty when something bad happens—say, if we’re only trying to defend ourselves?” I focused my gaze on Malachi’s muscular back directly in front of me. “If so, it doesn’t seem quite fair.”
Johnna spun around, and I backtracked a couple of steps, not wanting to plow over her too. It was becoming a bad habit. “That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? You were defending yourself?” She glowered at Malachi, jabbing her clenched fists against her hips. “You have to do something, Malachi. It’s totally wrong and you know it.”
Niki stood behind her, his hands massaging her shoulders as a tingling sensation ran over my skin.
Niki’s golden gaze caught mine. The intensity of his eyes stopped the breath from leaving my lungs. He was very intimidating. “Johnna, dial down the magic. Willow, tell us exactly what happens in your nightmares. Don’t leave anything out. Even the tiniest thing can mean something significant.”
I nodded, but the second my mouth opened to begin describing my last nightmare, my heart rate increased enough to make my chest ache. After one more deep breath, I gave them a minute-by-minute and very detailed description of the night at the motel. I did fine until I got to the part where my foster mother began slicing and dicing my arms like a Thanksgiving Day turkey. I couldn’t stop my voice from shaking.
At some point during my story, Malachi had moved behind me, his hand rubbing slow, warm circles over my lower back. For Hell, Dark World, or whatever this place was, his touch provided me a tiny piece of heaven.
From the small token of comfort, I found the strength I needed to continue. He probably would never understand how such a simple gesture became a precious gift to me. I finished my story, even sharing how I waited by the pool for an hour to make sure she couldn’t climb back out and try to kill me again. Not my finest moment, for sure.
“How old were you when this happened?” Niki’s normally deep tone now held a sharpness, scaring me more than his eyes did. He would make a truly terrifying enemy.
“Seven,” I whispered. I cleared my throat and repeated my answer. “I was only seven.” I swallowed, willing Malachi’s hand to remain against my back. “Please. I was so young. Too young to know what I was doing was evil. I just wanted to live.” My skin underneath his motionless palm slowly built into a tiny inferno. Finally, he must have felt it too because he pulled his hand away for a few seconds before returning it to the small of my back as if nothing had happened.
Still reeling from the unexpected strength infusion, I spilled more secrets. “It’s not the only nightmare. All my life, strange things happened where someone either got hurt or died. I never intentionally meant to hurt anyone, but sometimes I was just so angry.” My shoulders slumped forward in defeat. I’d never realized how demanding it would be to actually tell my life story. I felt dirty, both inside and out.
“With each new foster family, the results were always the same.” I bit back a resigned sigh. No matter how hard I tried to escape, it was my life and I would have to come to terms with it sometime.
Better now than later.
Chapter 9
If I was being honest with myself, admitting my past horrors in front of Malachi was the worst part. Before, we were on a more even footing—just two people without a past, getting to know one another. Now he’d know how screwed up I really was. It was probably better this way, telling him so he could leave me here before I completely lost my heart to the handsome demon.
My shoulders slumped a little more as I continued opening up about my life. “The kids resented me being there and the parents never bothered. They were too wrapped up in their own lives to care about what happened to me. The problems, however, always started with the kids. The last incident, the one that brought me here, was the worst. I don’t know if I will ever forgive myself.”
I waited for them to yell at me, tell me how stupid I’d been, but they didn’t. Johnna and Niki stared at me so long, I began to wonder if they’d fallen asleep with their eyes open.
They talk in their minds, DC whispered.
It’s about time you woke up.
Male demons have the ability but females don’t. Only when they’re mated. Like these two are.
Interesting. Too bad I’m female because it would be a cool trick. The moment I thought it, a bad feeling crept through me, raising all the tiny hairs on my body. So explain to me how we can talk.
You are not human. The rules are different for your species.
My species? The blood racing at warp speed through my body turned into a creeping sludge. Even though Johnna had told me I wasn’t human, DC’s whispered words sounded in my head like a death knell, and I heard the lyrics from “Black Sabbath” in my mind. Seemed very appropriate in my current situation. Nothing made sense anymore, and all I wanted to do was to curl up in a ball and cry myself into a good sulk. I was tired of acting strong.
Fingers touched my arm and pulled me back to the here and now. I resurfaced to three concerned gazes.
“Willow, are you all right?” Johnna moved closer, her grip tighten
ing around my forearm. A subtle warmth inched upward from where our skin touched, disappearing at my shoulder. Seconds later, the warmth reappeared at my waist and worked its way south.
My muscles deflated, and I had to concentrate on staying upright. I hadn’t realized what a burden my life had become. All the long-buried sorrow, pain, and fear seemed to lift away.
“I haven’t been fine since I got here.” I hesitated, adding, “Truthfully, I haven’t been anywhere near all right my entire life.” I sent her a small smile. “Thank you.”
Despite Johnna’s exaggeratedly arched eyebrows, I couldn’t stop. “Other than Tish, you are the first person who cared enough to try to help me. Not because I asked but because you wanted to. For someone like me, Johnna, it’s a rare gift.”
“Someone like you? What does that even mean?”
“I’m one of the forgotten ones. The kid who falls through the system’s cracks and people tend to forget. It’s happened my entire life, so when someone cares and shows me such kindness . . . it’s a bit overwhelming to say the least.”
I wasn’t prepared for the haze of tears in her eyes. The tough girl look—tight black jeans, black leather jacket, and kickass army boots—hid a huge heart.
“Willow, why did you blank out like that?” Malachi asked. “One minute you were telling us about your friend, then you seemed to fade off, your attention elsewhere. Even your eyes went blank.”
DC? I didn’t know what to tell them. Not only would everyone think I was crazier than they already did, keeping the cat a secret was going to be hard. But if it was what she wanted, I’d just go with it. I shouldn’t have worried because the silly cat took the decision from me when she appeared on my shoulder, looking decidedly prim in all her red glory.
“Everyone, this is Demon Cat—DC for short.” I shrugged. “For some reason, she chose me as her surrogate mother.”