Chapter Seven #2
“Don’t even think about turning around to leave me behind,” I threaten him.
He scowls, gaze flicking toward me. “I don’t want you to come.”
“Then why’d you tell me to get in the car?”
He doesn’t respond right away, flexing his fingers on the steering wheel.
“The dagger I stabbed Beliar with is obsidian. It’s the only thing that can truly hurt monsters.
Demons especially. I thought Beliar left of his own volition after he came to my house.
But he didn’t. He caught your scent, following it back to yours.
Or maybe got your scent there first, then followed you to mine, and then back to yours again.
I don’t know. But stabbing him should have sent him back to his world for good. ”
“To hell?” I turn to look at him. Luke hesitates, then nods. “So I was right. I’m his next target.”
“You should be safe from him now.”
“ ‘Should be’? Something tells me if you really believed that, you would have left me behind to deal with the fallout.”
“Leaving you behind is still on the table.”
“Well, take it off,” I argue. “I’m coming with you to save Krystal. End of story.”
A muscle ticks in Luke’s jaw. I stuff my hands beneath my thighs so I don’t do something ridiculous like trace the defined line.
We coast above the speed limit, though not as fast as before.
Silence wraps around us as I try to make sense of the last hour of my life.
Beliar Luke’s skin curling, like the fragmented pieces were burning off him.
The smoke and the stench. It’s nothing I recognize, not quite decay but something worse.
Something rotten and foul. Otherworldly.
“You’re hurt.”
“What?” I startle at Luke’s voice, and more aptly, the concern laced through it.
He nods at my palm. Blood is smeared on it. “There are napkins in the glove compartment.”
A stupor has fallen over me, his words landing a beat after they escape his mouth. “I don’t remember getting a cut,” I murmur, grabbing the brown napkins. “Must have been from the rusty ladder. Or the glass on the floor.”
“Or the lamp,” Luke supplies.
“Or the lamp,” I echo, wiping away the blood until all that’s left is a thin red line. I ball up the napkin, stuffing it into the pocket on the side of the door.
“I don’t want you to come,” Luke repeats.
I open my mouth to argue, but he continues before I can.
“I don’t want you to come because hell is dangerous, and you could get hurt.
Seriously hurt.” He nods at the very unserious cut on my hand, as if the idea of anything worse happening to me is his personal cross to bear.
“But you’re right. I would have left you behind if I was completely certain Beliar was gone for good. ”
“And you’re not?” I ask as miles of woods blur past.
“Unfortunately not.”
“Why is that?”
He blows out a frustrated breath. “That’s what I need to find out.”
“Speaking of finding, how did you know which fire escape led to my apartment?”
For a long second, Luke’s silent. “I came by your apartment Friday night after dropping Debra off to make sure you made it home, since I know you don’t like driving close to dark.
It occurred to me I didn’t treat the situation as delicately as I should have.
I’m sorry for that. I wasn’t trying to be creepy, I just happened to see you in your window. That’s how I knew.”
“Oh.” My cheeks heat and I can’t help wondering if I was in any state of undress.
Probably not, because I changed into pajamas as soon as I stumbled into my apartment.
Still, the idea of him checking to make sure I got home sends a burst of unexpected warmth through my belly. “So you already knew my address?”
He sports a slight tan so it’s hard to tell, but I swear the tips of his ears tinge with pink. “I may have looked it up in Carol’s holiday card Google Doc.”
I can’t help but laugh. “Damn, why didn’t I think of that? I had to sift through the corporate employee directory for yours.”
A smile tugs at his mouth before his expression hardens.
“I know how to find Beliar, but it won’t be easy,” he says, back to business.
“Hell has entry points from this world. We need to backtrack to get to the nearest one, then we’ll have to travel a few days to get to where Beliar is likely keeping Krystal and the others.
The underworld isn’t like here, though it might look like it at first. There are monsters at every turn, always trying to trick you, or hurt you, or feast on your sorrow.
They’ll know you’re a human. You won’t be the only one, but you’ll be fresh meat.
If you’re going to come with me, I need you to understand the risk.
We might not just be too late to save Krystal, but too late to save ourselves, too.
The longer you spend in hell, the less likely you’ll ever leave. ”
I swallow. “So my choices are willingly go to hell with you and be part of a potentially fatal rescue mission, or sit at home lighting all my manifestation candles in hopes that Beliar doesn’t come back for me.
Which, if he does, would inevitably make me part of the same fatal rescue mission, but on the damsel-in-distress end. ”
“I didn’t peg you as the manifestation type, Brie Benson,” Luke comments with a wry glance.
I release a breath, leaning into the seat to hide how his use of my full name rattles me. “For the record, I’ve never been the damsel type, either.”
“I wouldn’t have bet on it.”
His eyes are back on the road, giving me the perfect opportunity to examine his profile.
The short waves barely brushing his forehead.
The dark lashes framing his eyes. The cupid’s bow of his lips.
And that jawline. A jawline that Krystal was all too happy to make me overly aware of before, to which I’d rolled my eyes and pointedly ignored it, along with anything else that had to do with Luke aside from reports and work nonsense.
Now, close enough to touch, everything about Luke is inescapable. Especially that damn jawline.
“I’m coming with you.” Krystal and her wide grin are bright in my mind. I’m bringing her home to make sure her kids have every ounce of time I had with my parents, and hopefully decades more.
“You’re going to slow me down,” Luke says, but it’s a half-assed argument given we’re still zooming away from Tarrentown.
“Maybe you’ll slow me down,” I counter. “Besides, my usefulness as a co-rescuer might end up surprising you.”
“I’m already plenty surprised,” Luke mutters.
I gaze out the window. “Where are we going, anyway? Where’s this entry point you mentioned?”
“Some might say hell on earth.” He scowls. “We’re going to Times Square.”