Milayna (18 page)

I struggled against the person that held me. I kicked and screamed, but my arms were pinned and my feet didn’t connect. I tried to head-butt him, but he anticipated the move and kept his head tilted and out of reach.

I looked around the football field. Everyone was in the middle of their own fight. I was alone with the kid, locked in his iron grip. He dragged me to the middle of the field and tossed me down on the grass. The hobgoblins ran over, jumping up and down on their short, stumpy legs.

“Milayna,” they called. “Finally, you’ve come to play.”

I looked around, frantic. “Chay!”

“He’s busy. It’s just you and me.” The gigantic boy smiled and rolled his shoulders.

I screamed again. But no one could hear me over the noise of the fight.

“Come with us, Milayna, and all this ends. Your friends walk away and live normal lives. We’ll let your parents live in peace, and Azazel will treat you like a princess. You just have to say the word.”

“Go to Hell,” I whispered.

“You first.”

The earth started to shake, and the ground vibrated under me. I’d have thought it was an earthquake if we’d lived in California, but we didn’t get many earthquakes in Michigan. The ground swelled beneath me, and I tried to pull myself to my feet. The boy grabbed me by the hair and kneed me in the stomach. The breath rushed out of my lungs, and I fell to the ground on my hands and knees, coughing and gasping for air.

What the hell is going on? Doesn’t anyone else see this?

The earth moved, dipping and rising, tossing me to and fro like the tilt-a-whirl ride at a carnival. I tried to steady myself, but the rippling movement grew larger and more intense until the earth caved in, like a sinkhole. A yellow light shone from the bottom of the crater, piercing through the darkness.

I screamed and tried to scramble away. The boy tried to kick me back toward the hole, but I grabbed his foot and yanked as hard as I could. He lost his footing on the unsteady ground and slid down into the gulley, disappearing into the hole. I cringed at the sound of his screams.

I pushed up from the ground and crawled on all fours away from the hole. The ground was still rippling, like clothes hanging in the wind, and I slid backward. Desperate, I grabbed for whatever I could get my fingers around. I hitched my arm in a deep crevice. My arm stretched down and dug into the packed dirt. I held on, hoping the dirt wouldn’t give way and send me sliding down the side of the bowl-like depression and into the glowing hole at the bottom—and straight to Hell.

I just have to hold on until someone can help me. Chay or Drew… somebody.

Then I saw the shadow, and I knew my time had run out. I wasn’t sure if Chay or anyone else could get to me in time. I’d seen the glowing yellow light before. I’d smelled the sulfur. I knew what the shadow was before I looked over my shoulder. I’d seen them all in a vision. The woman in the parking garage. The yellow light, the sickening smell of sulfur, the gray-faced demon grabbing her. I remembered it all.

“Chay!”

“Milayna,” it hissed. “It’s time to come home.”

I looked over my shoulder and saw one long, gray arm clear the pit’s opening. It reached for me. Kicking, I flung my legs out of reach. I tried to hitch my legs up far enough to climb out of the large dip in the earth, but my feet couldn’t find enough leverage to push me up and over the side of the gulley. If the ground I held gave way, I’d have tumbled right into the hole.

My heart beat furiously in my chest and my breathing came in large, deep gasps. My vision was wavy, like it was rippling with the earth. Fear coated me in a sheen of sweat, stained with the soil I was rolling in. I reacted to the situation more than thought of what was happening. There wasn’t time to digest what was happening. Fear and the need to survive. That was what drove me.

I used my arms to pull myself to the top of the growing crater. Almost perfectly round, its concave sides made it nearly impossible to hoist myself over the rim. My muscles burned from the effort. I was tired from my visions earlier in the day and from the fight. I struggled to grab on to something, but the earth crumbled and I slipped down the side toward the hole, the demon’s arm getting closer and closer. Its fingernails cut along my ankle; I screamed when they drew blood.

Grunting and straining, I pulled myself up again, out of the demon’s reach. I was just throwing my arm over the lip of the opening when a shoe nudged my arm. I looked up, eyes wide and panic burning through me. “I think you’re going the wrong way, Milayna.” An ugly smirk spread over Lily’s face. “Haven’t you heard? In near-death situations, you’re supposed to follow the light.” She waved her hand at the yellow, glowing hole.

“Screw you,” I bit out between gasps.

“Big talk considering your position. Here, let me help you.” Lily squatted next to me. She put a hand on my arm and bit her bottom lip. “Hmm, nope, can’t do it. See ya, Milayna.”

She pushed my arm off the ledge. It didn’t take much effort, really. My muscles were burning. My body was tired, at its limit. I held on to the rim of the crater by my fingers. They screamed in pain. I closed my eyes and tried to muster enough energy to pull myself up one more time, but it wasn’t there. I was drained. Done.

And that was when the block of ice in my chest exploded. The heavy heat of Hell melted the ice and heated it to the point it burned me from the inside out as it flowed through my veins.

The tips of Hell’s flames called to me, singeing me with the sting of failure. The searing sizzle of fear. The twisting pain of the unknown, of what would happen when I let go. I felt a warm tear burn down my face. What was at the other end of that hole? It looked innocent enough: just a hole with a warm, yellow light shining from it. But… the smell, the screams of the damned, and the unbearable heat. It was far from innocent, and I didn’t want to take the slide to the bottom.

I’m so scared. Oh shit, my fingers are slipping. No, no, no. Not yet. I’m not ready. Not yet.

Small pieces of earth broke under my fingers and fell to my face. I tried to adjust my hands to get a better grip, but I slipped closer to the edge. More earth rained down on me. I turned my face from it. I heard scuffling and grunting. Someone’s head peeked over just as my fingers gave way and I started sliding down the side of the crater.

“Grab my arm, Milayna,” I heard someone shout above me. They lay on their stomach and reached down to me. Two things happened simultaneously—I grabbed the arm reaching out to me, and a demonic hand wrapped around my ankle. I winced when its unnaturally hot flesh touched my skin. The person above me tried to pull me up. The demon below jerked me down. It became a very deadly game of tug-o-war, and I was the rope.

I gritted my teeth against the pain of being pulled in two directions, hanging in midair for what seemed like an eternity. I didn’t know how the person above me was going to pull me to safety. I knew the demon wasn’t going to let go, and no one could climb down into the crater to help me or they’d slide into the pit. For a brief second, I thought about letting go before the person helping me was pulled down with me. I couldn’t damn someone to eternity in Hell because they were trying to help me. I had to let go. I was just about to release my grip when I saw a body hurl over the mound of dirt and into the hole, taking the demon down with it. It lost its grip on my leg, and I slammed against the side of the crater with a grunt.

The dirt started to cave in quickly. I kicked my feet, freeing them from the falling dirt. I used the person above me as leverage to climb up the curved and crumbling sides. When I finally reached the top of the mound, I looked up into the face of my rescuer. I expected to see Chay or my dad.

“Uncle Stewart?”

“Yeah, I figured since you helped me so much with the ice cream truck today, the least I could do was give you a hand in return.” He helped me up and away from the earth moving to fill in the remaining gap. The pudgy hobgoblins jumped into the hole just before it was swallowed up by the last of the dirt

I turned to Uncle Stewart and buried my head in his soft, red flannel shirt. “It’s okay, Milayna, it’s okay,” he soothed, patting my back awkwardly. “Are you hurt?”

“No. Well, not really.”

“Well, your jaw looks a little bruised, and I imagine your ankle is burning up right ‘bout now. Those suckers have hellfire for skin, ya know. Well, yeah, I guess you do know, don’t ya?”

“Is it over?” My words were muffled against his chest. He was warm and solid, and I felt so cold. So, so cold.

“Yeah. All but a few stragglers. Your group’s none the worse for wear. Those kids can hold their own in a fight.”

I pulled back to look at him. “My dad?” I fisted my hands in the front of his shirt.

“Fine, fine. A little dazed, but nothing serious.”

“Thank you. I…” I bit my lip, new tears forming. My throat was so tight with them that it was hard to swallow.

“Sure thing. Come by the shop tomorrow, and we’ll have ourselves a celebratory milkshake.” He smiled down at me.

I felt a hand on the small of my back and turned. Chay’s eyes searched mine. “Milayna,” he murmured.

I turned from his uncle and walked into Chay’s arms. He was sweaty and there was blood on his face and shirt, but I didn’t care. I stood on my tiptoes so I could wrap my arms around his neck. He wound his hand through my hair and held my head against him while I cried. He didn’t say anything—there really wasn’t anything to say. He just held me until my tears faded. And there wasn’t anywhere else I wanted to be. He didn’t make me feel weak for crying. He just held me and let me soak up his comfort. It was a part of himself he didn’t offer often, and I was overwhelmed he gave it to me. I lifted my head from his shoulder and looked at him.

“You’re hurt!” I reached out to touch a cut just under his eye, but curled my fingers and let my hand fall away, still unsure of where the lines of our relationship were drawn. His gaze held mine.

“Nah, just scratches mostly. The other guy looks much worse.” His fingers moved in circular motions over the small of my back.

“That wouldn’t have been the guy that went crashing down on the demon’s head, would it?”

“I wouldn’t know anything about that.” The corner of his lips tipped up.

Four weeks, three days until my birthday.

I sat at the kitchen table with my parents the next morning. It was Saturday, our weekly family breakfast. My dad made blueberry waffles, or at least, he tried to. All he actually made was a mess, so I took pity on him—and us because we had to eat them—and made the waffles.

“The waffles are good, Milayna.” He winked at me. Or tried to. His eyes were swollen and looked like a patchwork quilt of blues and purples.

“Yeah, thanks for the help, Dad.” I rolled my eyes and squirted a pool of syrup on my plate.

“I’ll make it up to ya. I’ll clean up,” he said around a bite of waffles.

I let my shoulders sag. “Thank you.” I sighed. “I have a ton of homework.”

“May I have more syrup?” Ben asked and pointed at the bottle with sticky fingers. “Please?”

“That was a very nice way to ask, Ben.” My mom smiled at him. “But no.”

“What? Why? Milayna has a lot!” He pointed at my plate and glared at me like I’d stolen the world’s last syrup stash.

“Milayna doesn’t get it in her hair.”

“Yeah, frog freckle.” I smiled and stuck my tongue out at him.

“Mom! Milayna stuck out her tongue!” Ben pointed at me with his fork. A piece of waffle plopped on the floor.

“Ben, let’s try to keep the food on the table.” My mom sighed. “Milayna, keep your tongue in your mouth.”

My dad spotted something on the television in the other room and laughed out loud. Jogging into the living room, he turned the sound up.

I looked up when I heard the broadcaster mention something about vandals at the high school, giggling at what I saw. It was a photograph of the high school’s football field.

“The newscaster said the authorities think it was students from the other team in retaliation of our win.” My dad laughed.

I smiled and looked over at my mom. My breath hitched in my throat. She had a strange expression on her face that I couldn’t read. “What’s wrong, Mom?”

“I can’t believe you two were in that mess. It’s a little… frightening.” My mom twisted the collar of her shirt around her finger. Her voice came out in barely a whisper and sounded small.

I looked back at the television and tried to view the picture from my mom’s perspective. There were large ripples in the earth. Patches of sod had been burned away, leaving black trails in the otherwise green field. The scoreboard lights had been shattered and glass covered the ground. I hadn’t noticed how bad it was the night before. I was so relieved to get away from it that I didn’t pay attention to the damage Azazel’s team had done.

“It looks worse than it was,” my dad told my mom, patting her hand before taking it in his.

She jerked her hand away. “Don’t patronize me. It looks bad. I’m sure it looked worse last night with demons crawling all over it. Look at you! Your face looks like it went through a meat grinder,” she yelled, making my little brother cry. She stood so quickly that the table rocked and her chair fell over backward.

“But we’re all okay, Mom.” I ran my fingers through Ben’s hair and squirted half the bottle of syrup on his plate to calm him.

“Yeah, this time.” She stalked from the room. I watched her leave and wondered what things looked like through her eyes.

***

That afternoon, I sat on my bed, reading my chemistry book and hating every second of it. My cell phone was lying next to me. Every few minutes, I’d glare at it, waiting for it to deliver a text from Muriel. She hadn’t texted me back after I’d texted her earlier in the day. Friday at the football game was the last time I’d seen her. I didn’t see her after the fight. In fact, I didn’t remember seeing her during the fight, either. She got home okay because her car was parked in her driveway when my dad and I got home. Besides, if she hadn’t, my Uncle Rory would have called looking for her.

My cell vibrated. “Finally, Muriel, geez,” I grumbled.

I grabbed my phone and clicked to read the text, but it wasn’t from Muriel. When I saw who it was from, I just stared.

Chay: Wanna get out of the house for a while?

Me: Maybe. Where?

Chay: I dunno. We’ll figure something out.

Tapping my fingers on my bottom lip, I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face. I tried to warn myself that it probably had something to do with the group, a meeting or something, but part of me hoped it was more than that. I took a deep breath to calm my nerves.

I typed quickly before I lost my nerve. The thought of spending time alone with Chay was both exciting and unnerving at the same time.

Me: Kay. When?

Chay: I’ll be there in five.

Me: Make it ten.

Chay: Fine.

I jumped off the bed and ran to the top of the stairs.

“Mom? Is it okay if I go out with a friend?” I yelled.

“Who?”

Geez, I was hoping you wouldn’t ask that.
“Chay,” I said as normal as I could. Smooth. No big deal.

She didn’t answer. Seconds later, she materialized at the bottom of the stairs. “Is there something you want to tell me?” She smiled and quirked an eyebrow.

And the third degree begins.

“We’re just friends.” I could feel my cheeks heat.

“Okay. Where are you going?”

“I don’t know. He didn’t say. Can I go?”

“Have fun,” she said and walked away. I tried to hold in a squeal as I turned with a jump and ran to my bedroom to change.

Ten minutes… hair, a little makeup, crap! What do I wear? Where are we going? I can’t do this. I think I’m getting an ulcer.

After empting my closet, I finally decided on my favorite pair of distressed jeans and a lavender cashmere sweater that fell off one shoulder. I put on a little makeup, enough to highlight, but not to look like I was trying too hard. Exactly ten minutes later, the doorbell rang. I could hear my dad and Chay talking in the foyer. I finished buckling my boot, grabbed my cell phone, and ran out of my bedroom door. I had to force myself not to skip down the hallway.

What is the matter with you? He just wants… what does he want? Do I care? Nope.

“Hey.” I made sure I took the stairs one at a time.

“Hi.”

I was so nervous I had to concentrate on my breathing so I didn’t hyperventilate or hold my breath and pass out. Either one would’ve been wicked embarrassing. It was bad enough I’d already puked in front of the guy. Twice.

Chay seemed completely at ease, as always. He stood with his thumbs hooked through his belt loops, looking amazing. His jeans rode low on his hips, and his blue T-shirt was snug in all the right places.

Stepping down from the last stair, I looked at Chay. I waited for him to clue me in on what we were doing.

“Well.” My dad leaned back on his heels before rocking forward on his toes. “You two have a nice afternoon.” Whistling, he walked away.

“Ready?” Chay asked.

“That depends.” I looked up at him.

He flipped his keys around a finger. They jangled when they hit his palm. “On?”

“What we’re doing,” I answered.

He chuckled. “How about a movie? Can you handle that?”

Oh, crap, I don’t know if I can or not. A dark theater? Close seating? Sounds like torture.

“I think so. What’s the occasion?”

“A break from chemistry homework. I’ve had enough studying for one day.”

Oh. Of course, a break from studying.

“Sounds good.” I shrugged a shoulder.

He opened the front door for me, and I walked by him, holding in a groan. He smelled too good to be legal. I knew sitting next to him in his small car was going to be torture. At least the theater would have popcorn to mask his gorgeous smell.

“So, which movie do you want to see?” He slid the key into the ignition and started the car.

“This was your idea. I thought you had a plan.” I glanced at him as I clicked my seatbelt in place.

“Nope. Just wanted to get out of the house.” He shrugged a shoulder. “Besides,” he continued, “if I keep you out all day, you won’t have time to finish.”

I angled my body toward him. “You don’t want me to finish my homework? That’s why you called and asked me to go with you?”

“Partly.” He grinned. I wasn’t sure what there was to grin about.

“Why?” He was so confusing. It was almost exhausting being around him. My heart did funny things, it was hard to breathe, and my head spun trying to keep up with the asinine remarks he made.

“Because I thought you were going to text me to work on our chem homework together. When you didn’t, I decided to take things into my own hands and remove homework from the equation.”

“Why?”

He sighed and jammed his fingers through his hair. “Because I wanted you to text me, and you didn’t.”

He wanted me to text him?

“You told me to text you if I got stuck on something. I was doing fine.”

“Exactly.”

“Exactly? You know, I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.”

We pulled in to the movie theater, and he parked the car. Turning in the seat, he looked at me. “I wanted you to text me. I didn’t care about chemistry.”

“Oh.” I looked out of the window at the people walking through the parking lot. “You know, last I checked, cell phones worked both ways.” I shrugged a shoulder. My sweater slipped over it and his eyes followed, lingering there for a few beats before moving to my gaze. I gave him a quick smile. “Just sayin’.” I opened the car door and slipped out.

He seemed to mull over my answer, a grin on his face. “Well… then I guess I should have texted sooner.”

I bent down and stuck my head in the car. “Yes. You should’ve. Now, let’s go. I want some popcorn.”

He got out of the car with a laugh, and I bit my bottom lip to keep a stupid grin off my face.

We picked a horror movie. A lovey-dovey chick flick didn’t seem his thing, and I wasn’t into the military, bomb-throwing action movies that were playing. So we settled on a horror film we both wanted to see.

“You really don’t need to pay for all the popcorn and Cokes,” I said, standing at the concession stand with him. The smell of buttery popcorn filled the building. Buzzers and alarms sounded in the arcade next to the concession stand and made it hard to talk without yelling. “We can split the cost.”

“It’s good. I have it,” he said close to my ear. His breath skated down my neck, sending ripples of warmth through me. He bought our popcorn and Cokes from the concession counter. “Butter?” He looked at me.

“Stupid question. Popcorn has to have butter. I think it’s a law somewhere,” I said, guiding him to the butter station.

“A law, huh?” He watched me put the popcorn bucket under the butter spray. “I hate the butter pumps. It gets the top corn all buttery, but when you get to the bottom, it’s like eating paper,” he muttered.

“I’ll show you how to get the butter down to the bottom. But if you tell anyone my secret, I’ll have to kill ya.”

He laughed. “Okay, show me your skills.”

I grabbed a straw next to the fountain drink dispenser. I stuck one end on the nozzle of the butter dispenser and the other down in the popcorn tub. “Now push the plunger.”

He pumped the butter, and I moved the tub of popcorn around, shifting the straw up and down in the tub.

“Okay.” I shook the popcorn around to get it all gooey with hot, melted butter.

“Pretty slick trick.” He winked at me and grinned.

“Shh.” I put my finger over his lips. “Our little secret.” I watched his eyes darken and let my finger slip away with a shy smile.

I’m so totally flirting! I’m not good at flirting. Am I doing it right? I wish I could text Muriel and ask what to do! Oh, wow.

Chay wrapped his arm around the bucket and carried it and his pop in one arm. He held my hand with the other, and he didn’t let go until we were in the theater trying to get situated in our seats. As soon as we sat our things down, he threaded his fingers with mine again.

He squeezed my hand gently. Something bloomed in my chest, releasing hundreds of colorful butterflies. Their wings fluttered against my ribs, tickling my insides in a weird, but oddly pleasant way.