Unearthed (23 page)

“Uh huh,” Keira said. “And what comes to mind when you think about having sex with a woman?”

“The ninth circle of hell.” His look of distaste knocked the entire flirtation idea out of the other woman’s mind. “Burning. Torture. Lots of stuff I can’t talk about.”

“See what I mean? Burning. Itching probably too, if you know what I mean.” Keira looked up at him, so she didn’t laugh at the other woman’s expression. “Sure, he’s pretty, but you don’t want to go there.”

After they passed security, they headed towards their gate, grabbing eighty dollars’ worth of food along the way.

Davyn stopped suddenly and turned to her. “Take this.” He handed her bag after bag, hanging them from her wrists, stacking smaller items in her arms. “If I conserve my glamour now, it’ll be easier on you while we’re in the air.” The last thing he gave her was his boarding pass.

After shoving the other half of a candy bar into his mouth, he said, “If you eat it all, I will punish you, hunter,” and headed for the restrooms to disappear. Doing anything supernatural in front of humans was the worst infraction a super could do. Execution for mortals, expulsion from earth for immortals.

Keira set the food down on an empty chair and ripped open a bag of chips. Invisible to everyone but her, Davyn took the long way back, wandering through the seating area, stopping next to a little boy. Both of them put their palms on the glass and looked out the window.

The longer they waited for the flight to be called, the more time she had to get nervous. What if she couldn’t handle it? Choosing between the entire plane catching fire or her internal organs being roasted wasn’t tough—she’d be dead either way. But it was a choice she’d prefer not to even contemplate. She should tell him she couldn’t do it, that it was too risky, too much.

He came over and sat down next to her. “You’re not wussing out, are you?”

She put in the pretend earpiece to her pretend cellphone. No need to attract attention as the crazy lady talking to herself. “Maybe we should start with something less potentially fatal until we’re sure I can handle the pain.”

“You can handle it. Yeah, the last time I actually put some heat in you, you passed out. But afterwards, you were fine and didn’t even remember any of the deviant things I did to you while you were unconscious.” He winked. “You were great by the way. Seriously. That mouth belongs in a museum.”

“You don’t care about me being in pain at all, do you?”

“Not really. You were the one who wanted to make a deal, knowing exactly what I am. After you felt my heat, I gave you a chance to back out. You refused. A deal is a deal. The only way to back out now is to die, so we have up until that point to work with. Besides, there is a plane full of minds to tap if you need a break.”

In all his excitement, she’d totally underestimated her role. He’d be having a great ole time while she’d be in terrible pain the whole time. But he was right—they’d made a deal, and the absolute worst thing you could do was renege on a deal with a demon. Whatever happened would make death look like a reprieve.

“Are you afraid, hunter?” he asked quietly. “I can’t stop thinking about how you died—the first time. Did it create a phobia in you?”

She didn’t respond right away, more concerned with why he thought about her at all versus her answer.

“If you’re…” He seemed to have to force the words out. “I’ll choose something else if this is too much for you.” Wow. That had to be a first.

“I’m not afraid. What happened after that knocked all the fear right out of me.”

“It’s rare to find a human who actually knows their own mind.”

“I guess I’m lucky then.”

He glanced at her. “Very rare—almost impossible, actually. Probably been a few decades since I met one.”

“What do you mean?” Or know. “Did you sneak into my head?”

He stretched his legs and shook his head. “I’m good at my job because I read people well. I look at who they want others to
think
they are versus who they actually are. It’s a lot more predictable than seeing someone’s thoughts, especially with humans because they’re so stupid when it comes to themselves. The unconscious tells give us away—who we speak to or even look at. Is it someone nonthreatening?” He shrugged. “They make others feel more powerful, more in control. Or maybe they gravitate towards someone in authority. Like seeks like—people are attracted to those they think they belong with, their psychological equals, whether they actually are or not.”

“What does that say about you and me?”

“We’re the exception. Our attraction is solely based on two facts: I’m amazing and your ass is almost as good as mine.”

“Almost?” She laughed.

“It’s really close.” He nodded. “I’ve been coming to the airport for over forty years but have never been in the boarding area. Your kind has no idea how lucky you all are. You can fly like the angels. Every day if you want to.”

“So that’s why you picked this—to fly.”

“Air transportation is a very new thing—comparatively speaking. I’ll be the first demon to do it. It’s too risky without some way to vent, and there’s a limit to how much you can tempt people in an airplane.” He looked at her for a moment. “This will be the closest to the Great Beyond I’ll ever be.”

“You mean heaven?”

He grimaced. “No. Heaven can go to hell, for all I care. It’s said the Great Beyond is named that because it is beyond the clouds—
with
the earth but also apart from it. Just like seers and the other races—you’re all
of
the earth but not a part of it, not entirely anyway. That’s why you all go there, unless you do something unbelievably stupid that gets you pulled under. If a demon really fucks up, they are sent to the lowest level of hell for eternity. Been there. Don’t want to go back. It sucks.”

“That’s how I feel about this place sometimes.” Not that it compared. She’d gone through as much as a human could, but she had no idea what Level Nine was like, or what Davyn had done to get out of it.

“This is paradise,” he said, shaking his head. “Humans have an incredible amount of freedom. You get to decide what you want to do and who you want to be. But the saddest thing is, you’re all so scared of becoming that person and still not being enough that you don’t even try. You stay put, trapped inside someone you don’t want to be. Someone you resent for keeping you stuck.”

“Give us a break.” She shrugged. “We’re only human.”

“Exactly. Which means you only get one shot at it. Why not at least
try
to make it a good one?”

She’d expected him to make a joke or insult her humanity, not make her question who she was. “You act as if it’s easy to completely change the way we view ourselves and the rest of the world.”

“Compared to what I did to get above the crust, you better fucking believe it is. Demons don’t get that choice. Our utopia is the place you all think is shit. The lowest an angel and all but .0025% of humans will ever go—that’s as good as it gets for us.”

Keira sat back and thought about where she’d been and where she was now. Not a day went by that Lamere didn’t fill her thoughts—revenge, hatred, pain, loss. She wasn’t imprisoned anymore, but she wasn’t living either.

Everyone had a choice, if they were strong enough to make it.

When they called for the first-class group to board, Davyn disappeared and came out of the bathroom in solid form. He ripped the cellophane off a sandwich and ate as he took the rest from her and headed for the gate.

Once they were seated and settled, he rubbed his hands on his thighs. “You need to tell me before the pain gets too bad. Not
when
, before.” He jerked when the engines turned on. As the plane taxied away from the gate, he grabbed her thigh. He was close to human body temp, so she relaxed her shoulders.

“I’ll try not to hurt you.” His grip tightened when the plane’s tires left the ground and the angle changed. On the way up, his hand moved to hers, warmer but not hot. When they broke through the clouds, she heard him laugh. He looked at her, his jaw tight, emotion filling his face. “Thanks…for this.”

He might be the first demon to ever fly in an airplane, but she definitely was the first human to ever be thanked by a demon.

“You’re welcome.” They were both silent until the plane leveled out, the fasten-seatbelt light turned off, and Keira couldn’t handle any more silence.

“I feel naked without my knife.”

“I’d love to feel you naked without your knife,” he said, smirking.

She swung at his shoulder, not to hurt though. Just to touch him, to connect.

“How about you answer a little question to pass the time…and because I really want to know. Why do you carry a blade if you’re afraid of blood?”

Oh wow, this was going to be that kind of conversation. “I’m not afraid.” She paused, looking for a way to make it sound less terrible than it was. “I’m not sure how to describe it.”

“Is it the pain you want?”

She shook her head. “Seeing the blood feeds something inside me, creates a desire to see more. That excitement makes me more aggressive, more reactionary, less timid. I fight because I
have
to, like it’s an addiction.” She couldn’t even call what came out of her mouth a chuckle because there was no humor in it at all, only bitterness and self-loathing. “Super healthy, right?”

He shrugged, not bothered by her confession at all. “Whatever works to get the job done. Doesn’t matter how healthy you are emotionally once your heart stops beating.”

“I guess…”

“Don’t need to guess. Everything is either true or not true.”

“You don’t understand because you’re not human.”

“Neither are you, and believe me, I understand a lot more than you think. Not because I enjoy violence, which I do on occasion…with the right partner. But I’m nearing the end of my tour, and we pick up all the worst human habits and emotions. Not sure how you go your entire lives with all that guilt and, what is it called? Empathy? Disgusting stuff. ”

She laughed. “I bet you can’t wait to get rid of it all.”

“Oh, I can wait. The longer the better.”

She wouldn’t presume to know how Davyn would show fear even if he felt it, but he looked haunted. “What’s it like down there?”

“Tough to describe.” He thought for a moment. “When you eat cake, which do you prefer: the frosting or the spongy bits? Trust me, this has a point.”

“The frosting is too sweet for me.”

“Me too. Okay, now imagine a nine-layer cake. Chocolate?”

“Sure.”

“Each layer of the chocolate cake is a layer of hell. The lower you get, the darker the chocolate, plus it’s dry and tastes like shit. We all start out at the bottom with the big guy, and we
all
try to fight our way out, to have more freedom. At each layer of frosting is a trial.” He used his hands as he spoke. “One layer over another, one trial after another. Not many pass the first one. But those that do go to the next layer, and if you can face the next test, you try. If you get to one and don’t pass it…Well, you’d better have said goodbye to everyone you wanted to ’cause you’re never going to have another chance.”

“What are the tests?”

“You don’t want to know,” he said dismissively. “The more layers we get through the harder the test, but the closer we are to the outside world—our utopia. Because once we get here, we can pretty much come and go as we please. As long as we still do what the big man wants.”

“How long does it take to get to the top?”

“In your years, millennia. In mine, way more than that.”

“If barely any of you pass the tests, why take the risk?”

He swung out his arms. “For this. Freedom. Inasmuch as we’re allowed. We have to go back regularly though to get refueled on a bit o’ brimstone, degradation, and pain.”

“What kind of pain?”

“The excruciating kind.”

“The kind that goes beyond the physical?” She put her hand on her stomach. “Makes you feel as if you’ll never heal because it will never stop?”

“Something like that, but not exactly the same.” He went back to looking out the window.

“Do you want to know?” she asked after a long moment.

“Know what?”

“What he did to me.” He’d seen what Lamere had done to Thom, knew what the bastard was capable of, but she wanted him to know about
her
.

He studied her, his jaw clenched, his eyes searing.

“You’re right,” she said, embarrassed. Of course, he didn’t want to hear about it. Demons didn’t care what happened to humans. “It’s probably not the same.”

“I don’t want to know,” he said softly, “because I don’t want to imagine him hurting you, to have that in my head. Because if I did, I wouldn’t be able to keep my promise. I would spend the rest of your life tearing off his flesh piece by piece in front of you. So he would see your face as he slowly went to hell. So he would know exactly why he was going there. You shouldn’t have to live with that horror, too.” His exhalation was jagged. “I need to keep up my end of the deal.”

He stared out the window a little longer before turning to her again. Then, he wrapped his fingers through her hair, holding her neck and pulling her into him. The kiss was slow, gentle at first. His lips got warmer, then his tongue as he coaxed her mouth open. They explored each other, forgetting everything they’d denied or fought. Being side by side probably kept everyone on board from a fiery death. There were only so many places their bodies could touch. And there was definitely lots of touching going on. Until she felt a tap on her shoulder.

“You need to stop,” the flight attendant said.

Keira pulled away, but didn’t go far before her head hit the rest behind her. Davyn didn’t move.

“She’s right,” he said, staring at Keira’s lips, rubbing his own together.

“Sir?”

“I said you’re right, and we stopped. Now I think you have something else to do.”

The woman’s expression turned from impatient to mischievous. “You’re damn straight I do.” Then she marched up the aisle to the man sitting in the first row and asked, “Sir, could you please come with me for a moment?” The guy fumbled to get up and follow her, pulling the curtain closed behind them.