Where Demons Fear to Tread (25 page)

It was a one-word text from Nick.

Goodbye.

The word sent a chill over her. What did that mean?

Goodbye?

Oh, no.

She slammed out of the yoga studio, fingers shaking as she locked the door behind her, heart thundering in her chest as she jumped into her car. She had taught Nick’s first yoga lesson at his West Hollywood home before moving his sessions into the studio. As she drove there, foot heavy on the gas pedal, every minute seemed to stretch into an eternity. Time expanded, and it seemed as though she had slipped into a surreal nightmare as she sped toward the inevitable.

Outside Nick’s bungalow, an ambulance was parked, its lights still flashing. She got out of her car and approached the open front door. Inside, a team of paramedics pumped the chest of the body lying on the living-room floor.

Just like her father.

And just like her father, Nick was dead by the time she arrived, his body cold and lifeless.

“May I see him?” she asked, moving toward him. She stood over him, tears slipping down her cheeks. Laid a hand on his forehead. At rest, Nick looked so peaceful, finally. Angelic, almost.

“Are you his girlfriend, miss?” someone asked.

“No,” she whispered. “He didn’t have a girlfriend.”

Nick had lived and died, just as Serena had herself, never knowing true love.

Nick’s death was ruled an accidental overdose, the result of a lethal combination of illegal drugs and prescription painkillers. The text Serena had gotten moments before his death told her otherwise. Nick had participated in his own death. Serena sat in Arielle’s office, trying to make sense of what had happened.

“Where did he go?” Serena whispered. She felt like a complete failure, so full of shame that she had lost Nick.

“Nowhere we’ve been able to track,” Arielle said. She paused before admitting, “However, we strongly suspect that he may have become a demon.”

Serena gazed out the window at the beach across the street. Nick should have been out there on this hot summer’s day. Lying on the sand beneath his aviator sunglasses and a baseball cap. Not lying on a cold mortuary slab beneath a sheet of plastic. She bit her lip to stop herself from crying. “Nick killed himself because of me.”

Arielle’s sharp, intense look made her bright blue eyes almost frightening. “You must
never
speak like that again. Nick’s death was not your fault. We all lose Assignees. It’s an unfortunate reality of being a Guardian. Every soul makes its own decisions. We do not blame ourselves.” She paused, something warring in her perfect, beautiful face. At last, she said, “I couldn’t tell you before this, but I lost my first Assignee, as well.”

“You?”

“Yes. And I’ve spent an inordinate amount of energy lately trying to get him back,” said Arielle.

Julian.

In Serena’s head, the pieces started falling into place, a rush of information that made her review every interaction with the Archdemon since they’d met. In a split second, all the assumptions she’d made about him, and about Arielle, had been shattered. “But how can an angel be assigned to a demon?”

“I was assigned to Julian when he was still human. I’ve been fighting for his soul for the past two hundred years,” Arielle said. “I’ve tried everything. Direct interventions, scores of other women. Nothing has worked. Until you.”

Emotions bubbled inside of Serena: anger, frustration, sadness. They swirled inside her, an internal cyclone that threatened to sweep her away. Yet, she remained, anchored here by her supervisor’s calming presence.

“But I didn’t work, either. Julian wasn’t saved.” She paused to digest the information.

“You got closer to him than anyone ever has.”

“Is that why you left me alone with him? To try to convert him to our side?”

Arielle smiled gently. “You were never truly alone. The Company had angels with you all along, watching over you.”

“Even when I…” Serena blushed. Did Arielle know
everything
that had happened?

“Slept with Julian? Well, no. Not then. We understand the need for privacy, you know.”

Barely.
The fact that the Company knew she had slept with Julian was humiliating enough.

Arielle gave a long, bemused sigh. “Dear, there’s nothing wrong with sex as long as it stems from love. You knew that already. What you did was natural. You didn’t hurt anyone, and you didn’t hurt yourself. In fact, we had hoped it would happen. For the sake of the assignment.”

“I still don’t understand. How could you have let me go through all that anxiety…for nothing? Why did you let me think I had no support?”

Arielle smiled gently. “It wasn’t for nothing. Everything happens for a reason. There were things we needed to keep from you, for your own good. For instance, you needed to learn to stand on your own two feet. Every Guardian must learn to walk alone. And you did. Perhaps more importantly, if you had known about Julian, he never would have fallen in love with you.”

“So what do I do now?” Serena asked. “Nick is gone. I failed my mission.”

“
Failure
is a harsh word. No experience is ever wasted,” Arielle said gently. “For now, take some time off from your work with the Company. Go back to teaching yoga for a while. In time, you’ll see the lessons you learned from this mission.”

The supervisor’s words were little comfort. Serena closed her eyes, swallowing down the grief that threatened to wash over her. She wished that none of it had ever happened. Whatever Arielle said, it did not change the fact that Nick had killed himself on Serena’s watch.

He had been
her
Assignee.
Her
responsibility. She had failed him. She had failed the Company. She had failed herself.

As the afternoon began to fade into evening, the weather turned gray and drizzly, unusual for midsummer. While his family grieved his loss privately, all of Los Angeles seemed to be mourning Nick Ramirez along with them. At his home, paparazzi swarmed and a massive pile of flowers began to accumulate on his doorstep. T-shirts with Nick’s face emblazoned across them cropped up in the city and began to spread across the country.

Thousands of his fans turned up for an impromptu memorial that someone had organized in the back of an old warehouse. It quickly turned into a rave, where people danced late into the night because everybody who attended agreed, “This is what Nick would have wanted.” News cameras hovered in helicopters overhead to capture the crowds for posterity.

Alive, he was just another disaster of a young actor, his frequent missteps merely more fodder for the gossip magazines.

Dead, Nick had become an icon.

Devil’s Ecstasy was on the verge of its opening night. And Julian didn’t give a damn.

Downstairs, people thronged in the lobby of the Lussuria, a crowd stacked with celebrities waiting for Julian to open the doors and officially start the party. The debauchery. The excessive drinking. The exotic drugs and the wild, unimaginable sex. He should have been down there, celebrating his greatest accomplishment to date.

Instead, Julian didn’t care.

Not because he was still stuck wallowing in self-pity.
No.
Because arriving back from his helicopter joyride in the desert, Harry promptly told him the bad news.

“Nick Ramirez is dead,” his personal assistant said in a hushed voice. “And Corbin and Luciana have been spotted in Los Angeles.”

Julian immediately saw what a fool he’d been. Rather than wasting time flying around in the desert and feeling sorry for himself, he ought to have been planning. Amassing his forces against his enemies, anticipating their revenge. Instead, he had been temporarily blinded by loss. By grief.
By love.

“We need to find Corbin and Luciana, and we must act quickly before they do any more damage. I should have taken care of them properly last night, or even today, but I…” For an instant, he was without words, flushed with shame, silenced by worry.
I’ve got to make sure Serena is safe.

“You had your hands full, sir,” Harry said quietly. “Don’t worry. We’ll find them.”

For once, Julian was grateful for his assistant’s compassion, the very trait he had been trying to cultivate out of Harry.

“Thank you, Harry,” he said. “Get the Gatekeepers to track down Corbin and Luciana. I’m going to find Serena.”

By the time Nick realized that Corbin had tricked him, it was far too late.

The process of dying had hurt like hell. Nick’s physical body had been racked with pain from vomiting copiously. He’d fallen to the floor, convulsing from seizures, his heart pounding as though it were about to explode, when mercifully his brain had finally shut down. Then his soul had taken a gory trip to hell, where he’d seen things he’d never imagined possible. Things that were burned into his mind, things he would never forget. Now, at least he was back here on earth. A strange fear had set in, though, and an overwhelming sense of guilt at having thrown away something tremendously precious. At having wasted his human life.

Corbin laughed scornfully as he asked Nick, “Did you really think it was all going to become magically easy? You’re an idiot.”

“You said I would become like you,” Nick whined, “but I’m not. What am I now?”

“Nothing. Less than nothing. You’re at the bottom of the totem pole, lower than even the Gatekeeper demons. You’ve got to prove yourself if you want to become a real demon.”

It was all so fucking depressing.

“Here’s your first assignment if you want to become one of us,” Corbin said. “You’re going to help me get Serena.”

“Why do you need my help?” Nick whined.

Corbin stared at him for a long time. He used the same neutral tone as always, but now it scared the shit out of Nick. Because now Nick knew what lay behind that pretense of neutrality. Now he knew what Corbin really was.

“Stop asking questions, Nick,” the Archdemon said. “Just do as I say.”

Serena sat at the back of the yoga room, watching the rows of spandex-clad bodies lying on their colored mats, as they rested in
sivasana.
Corpse pose. A mimicking of death. A pose for the living to learn to let go. What could Serena teach these students about real death? Even though she’d been through it herself, she still struggled with it. Struggled with letting go. Nick’s death permeated her thoughts. And despite Arielle’s advice, Serena found it impossible to ignore the crushing disappointment of her own failure.

Her phone beeped, the noise loud enough to startle a few of her students out of their repose, heads turning toward the disturbance. She apologized and checked her phone. It was another text from Nick.

I’m with Andrew. Meet us at Devil’s Paradise
.

Even the dead had trouble letting go.

Julian was just one step behind Serena, so close he could feel her vibration lingering in the places she’d been. The first place he’d tried was her home, but he found Meredith there instead. The redhead had opened the door a crack, looking out at him with the watchfulness of a pit bull on guard against an approaching thief.

“Is she here?” he’d asked, impatience getting the better of him.

“Why would I tell you if she was?” the roommate said, crossing her arms and staring him down.

“Because I’m in love with her.” Had he said that out loud before? He didn’t think so. He wished he had picked a better time to announce his feelings, wished he could have told Serena herself instead of her angry friend.

“Well, it’s a cold day in hell,” Meredith smirked. “But if you hurry, you just might catch her. She’s down at the studio, teaching a candlelight yoga class.”

Angels. So goddamned self-righteous.
For the first time he could remember, Julian didn’t care. But when he dematerialized, arriving at the yoga studio a moment later, Serena wasn’t there, either. He stood in the reception area, where he’d once kissed her. He’d already been half in love with her then. Her students filed past him on their way out the door. And he wondered where on earth she had gone.

“Don’t go into Devil’s Paradise by yourself, Serena,” Arielle ordered into the phone as Serena sped toward the nightclub. “The Company is coming to help you.”

The nightclub was ominously quiet for a Saturday night. There was no trace of the crowds that usually swarmed the club, no lineup of fashionably dressed clubgoers waiting outside. It was as if she were walking into a ghost town. Not a single Gatekeeper was around to guard the place.
Where is everyone?
she wondered.

Standing outside, she shivered in the warm night air. Then she heard the faint cry of her brother’s voice, coming from somewhere inside the darkened club.

“Serena! Come quickly! I need you!”

The little voice inside Serena whispered,
Don’t go in. Wait for Arielle and the others.
But Andrew was in there. Fear raced through her, spurring her on. She had to go in, and she had to do it
now.

The heavy front doors of Devil’s Paradise creaked as she hauled them open. Inside, the dark, empty space felt eerie without the glittering lights and the well-dressed crowds. In Vegas, she’d felt safe with Julian, alone with him on his territory. Now, a frisson of doubt swept over her.

The door clanged shut behind her, cutting off the outside world and shrouding her in complete darkness. “Andrew? Nick? I’m here,” she called out.

While her eyes adjusted to the dimness, she stood for a moment, listening for movement. She took a few tentative steps, trying to recall the interior layout. “Where are you?”

As if in answer, the building creaked a tired groan of complaint, then settled back into silence.

There was a large foyer, she remembered, before the main dance floor. She stopped, peering into the darkness. She could make out the high ceilings, two stories overhead, and the pillars rising up to support them. Somewhere at the back of the club, a door slammed. She jumped, skittering like a spooked animal.

A shadow darted; she heard the shuffle of quick footsteps around her.

“Andrew? Nick?” she called again. Silence. She started to retreat toward the front doors.