Where Demons Fear to Tread (16 page)

How odd. It was not the subject he had expected to arise. He had wanted something trivial, something light. Normally he didn’t disclose his personal history to women, but for some reason, he felt compelled to tell her. Here, in the midst of these craggy undulations, the landscape pulled at the emotions brewing within him. He wanted those enormous blue eyes of hers to shine with understanding, instead of the wary suspicion that he usually read in them. Instead of stifling his feelings for her, those emotions were intensifying. But he found it impossible to stop.

“England under Victoria was repressive, full of societal rules and sexual hang-ups. Of course, behind that prim and proper superficiality, the criminal underworld was as seedy as could be. But England reminded me too much of my lost family. Even my father had been dead for over half a century, and I needed a fresh start. America was wild back then. I thought New York City would be a good place for me to make a new life. But that city, too, already had established its ranks of demons. I wanted uncharted territory. So I came west with the Forty-Niners—the gold prospectors who were headed to Northern California in 1849. I saw a few men strike it rich, and a lot of men leave empty-handed. It wasn’t until twenty years later that the Powell Expedition began to explore the Grand Canyon.”

But it had still been unmapped land when he’d first set eyes on these cavernous depths. He told her of gingerly riding on horseback down the zigzag trail the Hopi Indians had carved in the slanting incline. He had come here looking for something—not gold, but
meaning.
Perhaps it seemed logical that this was where the opening to hell should have been, if such a place had been accessible on earth. After half a century of demonry, by the time he arrived at the Grand Canyon, he was sick of watching men fall, sick of being the one to tempt them into debauchery. He had stood at the bottom of the gorge in the rain, waiting for the devil to reclaim him. Waiting for a flash flood to sweep him back to hell, or a lightning bolt to strike. But none came.

“After the gold rush was over, I took the considerable profits I had made and headed south, to Los Angeles. In the early days, it was known as the roughest town in the country. There were territorial wars between the Mexicanborn and the Anglos. Lynch mobs ran all over town, and the murder rate was ten to twenty times higher than it was in New York City at the time. It was heaven on earth for a demon trying to make a name for himself. I opened a saloon, bided my time, and the rest, as they say, is history.”

Serena blinked, the blue of her eyes brighter than the clear summer sky. They were so clear, he could see her thoughts passing through like clouds, her mind absorbing his words. They sat in silence awhile, digesting the meal and his story.

After a while, she spread her arms out to indicate the vastness of the canyon. “But it’s so beautiful. I don’t know how you can doubt the power of goodness when all this beauty exists.”

“Good and evil are equally balanced. Besides, you should know by now that what is beautiful isn’t necessarily good,” he said. “Despite what mankind may think, Keats was wrong when he wrote, ‘Beauty is truth, truth beauty.’ You can’t deny that I’m beautiful, but I’m fundamentally evil.”

“You’re wrong. The balance of good and evil is a fallacy. You’re not evil,” she said firmly. “You’re just…mistaken.” She turned her face toward Bright Angel Canyon, a worried little frown on her brow.

“This canyon is a place of beauty, but it is also a place of death. Nearly six hundred souls have found their final resting place here. Murder, suicide, plane crashes, hypothermia, dehydration, drowning, rock slides, falls. Every sort of ending imaginable has occurred here. And you don’t think the devil makes his presence known?”

She said quietly, “I think the devil is just another mistaken soul. He was a fallen angel. What’s to say he can’t go back? That
you
can’t go back?”

He laughed. “I’m sure he would think the same of you. You could fall,” he said. Her gaze darted to the plateau’s edge, and to the steep drop below. He opened his mouth to say that she could fall very easily, but stopped himself. He wanted to lull her into a false sense of security, not put her defenses up.

“Why did you choose darkness?” she protested. “What happened to you, Julian?”

Her blue eyes searched his face for an answer, but she didn’t want to know, not really. If he told her, she would feel sorry for him, and he didn’t want that. He didn’t need her pity. So he changed the subject yet again, rattling on about the details of that early trip, his returns to the canyon, his many explorations on foot and on horseback.

Reaching into the picnic basket, he took out the red velvet cake the staff had packed for dessert, handed her a piece. Continued to speak as she ate. A tiny movement along the edge of the plateau caught his eye. The writhe of a familiar reptile, a thin whip of bright green, intense against the dusty canyon rock. A snake whose color hailed from the forests of sub-Saharan Africa, not native to the canyons of Arizona. A snake that had been brought here, not one that belonged here.

He opened his mouth to call her name. But he was too late.

It was the noise that caught Serena’s attention, the whisper of skin sliding on earth. When she looked down, she saw the green snake coiled there, its pop of color bright and deadly. Exactly like the one she’d seen slither from Luciana’s handbag last night.

How strange.
For a moment, she wondered if the snake was real. Then it moved. In a quick slither of blurring colors, its shiny black head rose. Dartlike, it shot out and sank its fangs into her ankle. The pain was not intense, but startling.

Only a demon can kill an angel,
she remembered.

Was Julian conspiring with Luciana, after all? Fleetingly, it struck Serena that she might be just one more prize in his quest for power, yet another victim whose destruction would increase Julian’s ranking in hell.

Her body began to numb.

Perhaps Julian
was
pure evil, after all.

Chapter Ten

J
ulian watched her fall. Heard the rustling of wings, not unfolding this time, but sinking to earth. Her body swayed, still graceful even in her fall. She crumpled, breaking the fall with arms already weak, and lay on the ground, breathing in shallow gasps. Around her, her golden hair fanned like a halo in the dirt. Her forehead contracted, and her gaze tracked him, full of alarm and hurt. Full of accusation.

He stood, rooted to the ground, mind scrambling to process the slick bands of color as the snake slid from her hand. For a sliver of time, his body froze from the shock of it. With her, he felt some part of himself falling, some part of him that was ripped away as he reached out, realizing that he was too late to catch her.

He
must
save her, or a part of him would die with her on this desert rock.

Serena whispered his name. And he shook himself out of his paralysis.

He picked up the snake in one hand, heedless of the danger, and hurled it into the empty space of the gorge. It arced out, hanging suspended in the open air for a moment before it began to fall, disappearing into the depths of the canyon below.

“I can’t die,” she murmured, her chest rising and falling as her lungs labored in their fight for air. “Not again. Not so soon.”

Oh, but Julian knew very well that she
could
die. Not in a spiritual sense—the soul could never die. But her physical body was very much susceptible to destruction. Yes, she would probably come back to earth.
Somewhere. Sometime.
But who knew where or when? There were certainly no guarantees. Especially not after what had happened between them….

He had seen this particular trick before, although not used to destroy angels, but other demons. In fact, he had assisted in carrying it out. The snakes Luciana carried with her were just babies, but charged with demonic energy, even a newborn green mamba’s venom accelerated death, able to destroy a body that was otherwise immortal. What would normally take hours would happen in a matter of minutes. There was only one way to stop it.

Antivenom.
The only known treatment for a green mamba bite. To be more specific, a particular kind of antivenom that someone he knew carried at all times. She carried it because she was so fond of this particular modus operandi that she would never risk being without it herself, just in case one of her precious little pets decided to bite her. That person, of course, was Luciana.

He cursed himself. He had brought this on Serena. He was the one who had taken her to Vegas, had exposed her to Luciana. If the angel died now, he would never be able to forgive himself. He would kill Luciana. Rip her head clean off her body, and he didn’t care whether he was damned for all eternity because of it.

He dematerialized, reappearing just outside the doorway to Corbin’s penthouse suite. Julian banged on the door until a Gatekeeper opened it. He barged in without the usual formalities, searching for that familiar flash of raven hair. “Where’s Luciana?”

The Gatekeeper, recognizing the Archdemon’s power, cowered and pointed down a hallway. In the spectacular living room, the two demons were lounging on sleek leather sofas.
And so was Nick.
There was no time to ask what the young human was doing there. Julian simply ordered him, “Go back down to your suite and bolt yourself in. Don’t ask questions. Just do it.”

Nick complied. The second he left the room, Julian went straight for Luciana, dangerously close to letting his rage explode. “What did you do to her?”

Luciana widened her spring-colored eyes, play-acting the innocent as she reclined on a pile of cushions. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.
Sei pazzo!
”
You’re crazy.
It was something she’d said to him often when they were lovers. It had annoyed him then; now it made him want to strangle her.

He towered over her, hoping his physical presence would intimidate her so that he wouldn’t have to resort to force. “Drop it, Luciana. You’re not fooling anyone. Give me the antivenom.”

Corbin stood and leaned against the wall, watching their interaction. “Julian. To what do we owe the pleasure of your company?”

“Ask her,” Julian said. When the demoness remained silent, he said, “Serena was bitten by a poisonous snake that someone packed in our lunch.”

“Your new girlfriend should watch what she eats. Or what eats her,” Luciana said, a tiny smile playing around her evil little mouth. What he’d ever seen in that woman was beyond him. She might be beautiful, but she was one hell of a manipulative bitch.

Julian sprang forward, grabbed her by the collar. “Give me the damned antivenom. Or I will make sure you rot in hell for all eternity to pay for what you’ve done.”

Her eyes widened then, this time in genuine fear. Corbin didn’t make a move, merely stood by, observing. She choked out her assent and Julian released her. While she disappeared into the bedroom, he stood with his arms crossed, conscious that every second he stood here was a second of life that was draining out of Serena’s body.

Finally, Luciana came out with a small vial and a syringe. “Take it and go,” she pouted.

Antivenom in hand, he turned to leave. “If you ever so much as touch a single strand of hair on her head, I will exterminate you,” he said quietly.

Then he leaped back into the void. Time was his greatest enemy now.

Bright Angel Canyon. So still, so peaceful. A beautiful place to experience death. Again. Here in this remote part of the earth, her physical body would decompose naturally, returning to the soil as the bodies of other creatures did. As her previous body had. It was simply another part of the cycle of nature, as inevitable as the rising and setting of the sun, the changing of the seasons, the turning of the tides.
Dust to dust
…

The soul never dies, even if the physical body ceases to exist.
This time, she was ready to return to the Archangels, safe in the knowledge that they waited for her above.

She began to let go, drifting up toward the light.

Serena felt herself spiraling upward, sailing into the clear afternoon sky. A sense of peace washed over her. In the distance, it began to rain. Just over the peak of the Buddha Temple, the sunlight refracted in a thousand different colors, each more vibrant and more beautiful than the next.

Julian had disappeared. He had left her to die, alone in the midst of the deserted canyon. It was a fact that would have devastated her if she’d still been incarnated. But now, hovering above her body, she was no longer bound to its sensations and emotions, and she viewed the situation without judgment. Death was simply part of reality.

She floated, watching her physical form sprawled on the ground beneath the blanket Julian had spread over her. The breath had gone out of her, and she lay still, as though sleeping, one hand curled beside her head. A pair of crows circled overhead, sensing the proximity of death.

And then Julian reappeared.

She watched as he drew liquid into a syringe from a small glass vial. He injected the liquid into her arm, then began administering CPR. As he pumped her chest with a strong, even rhythm, he spoke gentle words of encouragement. “Stay with me…don’t leave me now, angel.” The clouds moved closer, and rain began to pelt down, first in fat drops, then in a steady downpour as he worked. The deluge slicked his hair, soaked his clothes. Around him, the dusty red soil turned into mud.

Removed from her physical body, she did not feel the rain. She drifted, still at peace. From above, she heard a rustling of outspread wings. The Archangel Gabriel appeared, radiating pure white light. An overwhelming sense of harmony infused her. She wanted nothing more than to merge with the universal energy toward which Gabriel would guide her.

“He’s trying to save me, isn’t he?” she mused.

The Archangel smiled, his incandescent form untouched by the pelting rain. “Yes. Your physical body is dying again. But you will not leave at this time. You must return to the material realm. You have a divine mission to carry out.”

“Of course. Nick, my Assignee. Won’t Arielle just find another angel to replace me if I don’t come back?” She wondered briefly whether her supervisor would even register her loss.

“Your mission goes far beyond that, little one. It’s not your time yet.”

“What do you mean?” she called after him.

But Gabriel didn’t answer. She looked up at the storm-darkened sky as he surged upward on a single beat of his vast wings. And Serena spiraled back down to earth, landing in her body with a thud.

It was so very cold, so very wet here on the ground. She shivered, her limbs trembling from it. She opened her eyes. Julian was bent over her, hands poised over her chest, ready to compress again. There was concern in his eyes, emotion so real that, for a moment, it made him seem human. How odd for a demon.

“I thought you were trying to kill me,” she said. Her voice came out as a croak; it hurt to talk. Her teeth chattered.

“Don’t try to speak. Just rest,” he said. He laid a hand on her forehead, and closed his own eyes for a moment. He whispered something that she couldn’t hear, but that she thought sounded like an expression of gratitude.

He scooped her into his arms, carried her to the helicopter. Laying her carefully on the backseat, he spread a dry blanket over her, placed the headset on her. His mouth set into a thin, white line. “I’m sorry this happened. It was entirely my fault,” he said. “I should have known Luciana would pull something like this. But you must know that I would never hurt you.” She shut her eyes, trying not to throw up, and felt his lips graze her hairline before he shut the door.

The vibrations of the helicopter jarred her body, making her nausea worse. Two hours seemed to stretch into an eternity. There was no question of death now, only the intense pain burning in her lungs and stomach. Gradually, though, her shivering stopped. The pain came in ebbs and flows, leaving her wondering when it would stop, how much more she could take.

Still, she thought about how full her existence had been. She’d left her human body at a very young age, and she was still young. It saddened her that there were still so many things she would never experience in physical form, like true love—the kind Andrew had always said she’d missed out on. Yet, it was not herself that she worried about the most. Rather, she worried for her Assignee, her brother and her roommate. If she died again, there was no telling what might happen to them in her absence. She thought of Nick, so vulnerable in the midst of all these demons.

Would Julian still carry out his threats if she were gone? She did not believe he would. Over the past few days, she was beginning to recognize a certain quality about him that she might have described as ‘goodness,’ had he not been a demon. A certain quality that had led him to save her life, when he could just as easily have left her to die on that plateau. The image of his steady hands manipulating the helicopter controls was the last thing she registered before she slipped out of consciousness.

When she next opened her eyes, Julian was placing her between the clean sheets of her bed at the hotel. She was warm, dry and stationary. She gave thanks and vowed never to take those simple things for granted again. She nestled her cheek against the softness of the pillows and allowed her eyes to drift nearly closed.

“Will she die?” An unfamiliar voice spoke in a hushed tone; she turned her head to see a nice-looking black man standing there, his dark eyes shining with concern.
Demon,
her mind spoke warily. Yet, this one seemed different. Of all the demons she’d encountered, none except for Julian had retained the kind of compassion for other beings she sensed in this man.

Perhaps that’s why he’s here. Because Julian trusts him,
she thought.

“No, Harry,” Julian said. “I’ve seen this before. She’s out of danger now. But stay with her. Call me if she shows any signs of distress.”

“As you request, sir.”

Julian turned back to the bed, smoothed her hair with a gentle hand. “I’ll be back shortly. There’s something I need to take care of.”

She turned her head, hating the neediness in her that wanted him to stay. Her mouth was as dry as though it were filled with the red dust of the canyon. Just as well. If she tried to speak, she would not have liked what came out.
Please. Don’t leave. Stay with me.
Words that were better left unspoken.

Julian lifted a glass of water to her lips, held it while she drank. Then he went out the door. She struggled to sit up, but nausea crashed over her like a riptide, rocking her with a dizziness that she never thought possible on dry land, and laying her out flat again. She closed her eyes for a moment, then tried again. This time she was more successful. The wave of sickness was gentler this time, nauseating but bearable.

Harry rushed forward with an empty wastepaper basket, ready for the worst. “Miss, try to save your strength.”

She sat up, struggling to keep down the contents of her roiling stomach. She had to find the strength to get out of this bed.

If the demons tried to kill me, God only knows what they could have done to Nick.

She imagined the worst. An image of Nick floated up, his tortured body bloodied and torn to shreds. Gabriel’s words rang in her mind:
You have a divine mission to carry out.
A mission that went far beyond taking care of Nick. She had an awful feeling that mission had something to do with Julian.

But even in her weakened condition, she needed to know that Nick was safe. He was still her Assignee, and he could be in grave danger. Still, the only way to get out of here, it seemed, was to get Harry to help her. How she was supposed to do that, she had no idea. So she did the only thing she could do, and just started talking.

“You seem like a nice guy,” she said. “How long have you been working for Julian?”

Harry paused. Swallowed. “Three months.”

“You seem too nice to be…” She closed her dry mouth, wondering how she could remove her foot from it.