Hell's Gift (23 page)

“Stay away from any offerings, Rhyan. You need to stay focused. You don’t need food, drink or drugs to complete your mission. It’s only there to tempt you and it will only make your condition worse. You don’t have time to fight any more demons, especially internal ones.”

I sucked in a ragged breath and could feel my lips cracking. Every last drop of moisture in my mouth was gone. “I have to,” I whispered to Malcolm.

“No, you don’t! Pull yourself together. You have a long journey ahead of you still, and you’re not going to let something this small ruin your chance of getting back into Heaven, getting Abbi to Heaven.”

All of a sudden, it felt like a brand new day. I was focused, and determination filled my very core. I wouldn’t fall prey to Lucifer’s tricks today or ever. I would not take any offerings from that syde.

I glanced up once more at the sign, then turned and almost walked right into a door in the middle of the walkway.

“What is that?”
Malcolm asked.

I examined the wooden structure, then walked around to look at it from the other side. It was just a single, ordinary wooden door, standing vertically on its own. “It, uh…it looks like a door, Malcolm.”

“I know what the damn thing looks like. I’m bloody looking at it. Why in the hell is it in your path?”

My forehead crinkled in puzzlement at the tone of his mental voice and his choice of words. It wasn’t at all like Malcolm to let his vocabulary fall below heavenly standards, but I brushed it off easily enough. The poor guy had to be stressed. “Well, I don’t know. Perhaps it’s a trick, and if I walk through it I will be placed back at my starting point, under the bridge with Pogo.”

“Did you do anything differently? Maybe this door will take you to the next syde.”

I shook my head. It couldn’t possibly be that easy. “No, my course or actions have not deviated. It has to be a trick of some sort. Lucifer is not just going to let me pass to the next syde when I haven’t done anything to earn it.”

“Open the door, Rhyan. You’re wasting time.”

“You really think I should?”

“What have you to lose? The game doesn’t end if you lose a life, or twenty. It ends when you give up. Open the door and let’s see where it takes us.”

“Us?”

“Am I not here with you? I could be playing chess with St. Peter. I beat him three times last week and he wants a re-match. Angel is a sore loser, too. I may have gloated a bit.”

“I was joking. I appreciate the help, really I do, Malcolm.”

“Don’t get all sappy on me. I’m your guardian angel, and will be here for the long haul, brother.”

My hand was shaking as I reached for the brass knob. It turned freely and I pushed my way into a jungle. qct

Chapter 29

Abigail

“Abigail, listen to me,”
a male voice said in her mind.

Abigail’s body went still as the unfamiliar voice trailed away, and her eyes roamed around the vast area of Lucifer’s chambers. She hadn’t seen him since the meeting, and she assumed he was off somewhere, frantically trying to find a way around the contract so he could punish her properly for her actions.

But the voice in her head wasn’t Lucifer’s. She’d never heard it before, but it was clear he knew who she was; the male was in her mind and had said her name.

“I’m listening.”

“My name is Malcolm and I have put off introducing myself until now because we weren’t sure which side you would choose and because Lucifer can read your thoughts. I imagine he will be near you soon and in no great mood, I’d wager. Keep your mind clear of speaking to me. I’m sure you can imagine what will happen if I am discovered helping Rhyan.”

Abigail gasped. “Rhyan—how is he? Has something happened?”

“He is well. He has completed one of the sydes; yours, actually.”

Her hand came up to cover her mouth as great pools of shimmery emotion clouded her vision. Happiness filled her chest and she invited even more of the blissful pressure.

Malcolm allowed her a moment, and gathered from her mind that she was truly elated with her husband’s progress and angry with herself for doubting he could do what he’d promised.

She dried her eyes, but couldn’t remove the smile from her lips. That was fine by her. She had a lot to be happy about. The fact that her soulmate had come to rescue her was enough to outwardly express any joyful thoughts she might have. It was to be expected, no matter how much it displeased Lucifer. She could keep Malcolm a secret and hoped he would return often with more good news of Rhyan’s travels.

“How did he escape?” she asked.

“Well, we don’t rightly know. We were kind of hoping you could tell us. His instincts led him to West Court where we discovered a door waiting for him to enter into a jungle.”

“He must have done something—”

“He did nothing, Abigail. I was present.”

“No, it wouldn’t have been anything physical. He has no ability to make a door appear for the Syde of Sloth.” She covered her face with her hands, struggling to think what Rhyan could have possibly done to accomplish getting through the Syde of Gluttony. “Was there any food, or maybe drink nearby?”

“Yes, there was a bar and he almost gave in, but I convinced him that he didn’t really need it, that it would only make his condition worsen, and it would be wasting precious time to stop in for a drink; that he needed to focus on you. He turned away from the bar and almost ran into the door.”

Abigail smiled. “His temperance and self-control is why he was rewarded the door. It’s the opposite of gluttony.” She looked up in a panic as she heard footsteps coming toward Lucifer’s chambers. “He’s coming. The seven heavenly virtues are the keys to unlock the doors of the seven sydes of Hell. Go, Malcolm, match them up and get him out of there!”

“I’ll try and keep you updated when he isn’t around. Thank you, Abigail. I have faith that Rhyan can do this. We all need him to do this, and you are the one that gives him the strength he needs to keep moving forward. Don’t ever give up on your angel.”

Rhyan

I looked about my surroundings, my muscles tensing and my skin tingling as I anticipated meeting unknown creatures. I had no weapons. The acid jacket would hardly protect me from a beast with razor-sharp canines and claws, and as I looked up to the tall trees I could only imagine what type of beasts lived in this syde.

The atmosphere was much like any jungle I’d ever come across on Earth: hot, muggy and full of strange noises. It was the noises I worried about most, and maybe the animate beings that I couldn’t hear. Yes, those would be most deadly. I wouldn’t sense their presence and they could strike without warning.

Malcolm had informed me, before he’d scurried away to dig up more information, that he thought that we were in the Syde of Sloth.

I glanced up again to the overgrown and awkwardly shaped branches above me, their leaves concealing either an escape or a variety of nasty surprises. I was able to climb fairly well, and I could definitely use that as an aid if the danger was at ground level. I needed to keep my mind open for other things that would help me.

That reminded me: “Where is my object, Lucifer?” I shouted into the cluster of exotic greenery and flowers in my immediate area, then realized that I had probably put a big target on my head for any predators to find me.

I waited a few moments, but nothing fell from the sky to help; even better news, I didn’t get attacked by any monsters.

It was too humid to walk around wearing the acid-jacket. My skin was already damp from the sauna the material had created around my body, but just discarding it wasn’t a smart option; there was a possibility I would need it again in another syde, maybe even this one.

I took the jacket off and folded it in on itself, then rolled it tightly, making it as compact as I possibly could.

There were long, thin, but seemingly sturdy vines hanging from some of the trees, and I reached up to yank a few of them down, thinking they would do well to strap the jacket to my body, well out of my way in case I needed my hands for anything else. Finding something to use as a weapon was next on my list of things to do. I had a feeling I would need items to defend myself.

A sharp whistle had my head jerking up in alarm, then a second later my wide eyes focused on an arrow sticking out of the trunk of a tree beside my head.

I didn’t waste another second standing there like an idiot. I ducked my head and dove through a thicket, then was on my feet and running in the opposite direction from where the hunter was surely located and probably aiming another death-stick to end one of my lives. Or maybe he just wanted to injure me so he could eat me alive. I wondered briefly if I would actually come back to life if something ate all my remains, then another arrow whizzed in front of me and I slipped and fell down a steep embankment in my urgency to get away.

I let out an involuntary muffled scream when my shoulder slammed into a boulder at the bottom of the hill and dislocated. I was temporarily blinded by the pain, but a fresh shower of arrows came from a different direction, giving me no choice but to cradle my arm and keep running.

There was a clearing to my right, thick jungle to my left and another steep embankment in front of me, one that I wouldn’t be able to climb with a bum arm. The jungle was my only choice. The clearing would leave me too exposed.

Two more arrows whizzed by each of my ears from behind.

With a curse through a clenched jaw, I hugged my arm tighter to me and picked up my pace.
Where the hell was Malcolm?

“I’m here, but I’m trying to find out all I can about the syde you’re in. You are just going to have to keep running or find somewhere to hide until I can get it all figured out. Damien is the prince over the Syde of Sloth and he’s an expert shot in archery.”

“He’s not too good of a shot. He hasn’t hit me yet.”

“I assume that may be because he doesn’t want to hit you. He may be leading you into a trap, Rhyan. Be careful. Then again, it may not be him using you for target practice; there will be others there, as well. Get somewhere safe. Take care of that arm. I’ll be back as soon as I possibly can.”

“A trap?” I mumbled, but Malcolm didn’t respond.

A limb slapped across my cheek as I ran through some particularly thick brush. The loud squawking and snarling of animals had all but stopped and I hadn’t heard any whistling from any more loose arrows in a while, so I slowed and staggered to a large tree trunk with a beautiful canopy of overhanging branches laden with heavy leaves.

I was moderately hidden, and felt I couldn’t walk another step until I rested a bit. My body was so fatigued. Each of my legs could have weighed no more than a feather and I wouldn’t have been able to lift them. I slid down the length of the slick bark until my butt came to rest on soft leaves that covered the floor of the jungle beneath the outstretched branches that looked like awaiting arms. It seemed so inviting.

All I needed was to rest.
Just for a little while.

~ ~ ~

“Rhyan! Rhyan, wake up! What the hell are you doing? Oh, God, I knew better than to leave you alone.”

My eyes flew open, but I didn’t move. I didn’t dare move an inch.
“Malcolm—”

“Dear Christ, how are we going to get you out of this mess? What were you thinking? There are consequences for resting in the Syde of Sloth! Use the brain God gave you, brother. Lazy people get sent there!”

I ignored the fifty or so spiders and other creepy-crawlers I didn’t have a name for that covered my body and face. They were probably some sort of poisonous insects made especially for Hell, for this particular syde even. I focused, eyes wide and unmoving, on the black vertically elliptical pupils staring back at me. I couldn’t tell if the very large dark brown snake was merely fascinated by my presence, or if he was hungry.

His head came up to my eye level and his slender tongue darted out to taste the air around me. I stopped breathing and managed to swallow, but my fear only grew stronger. My short nails dug half-moons into my palms, breaking the skin and spilling my warm blood into the muggy air.

I couldn’t prevent my body from shaking. My fear of snakes surpassed any rational thoughts I needed to have at that moment. I couldn’t think about anything except how it would feel when his fangs sunk into my flesh and released his highly venomous poison into my blood stream. How my body would react to such discomfort. The horrible, agonizing pain I would have to endure before I died a third time since my existence had started.

The snake came even nearer to me, rubbing its scaly body against the flesh of my chest as if it already knew how much it frightened me and strived to make me move so it would have an excuse to strike and have me for its next meal.

The spiders and other insects that crowded my flesh shied and scurried away, seemingly afraid of the serpent that had me trapped in its hypnotizing gaze. I was grateful not to feel the tickling of their tiny legs skitter across my skin, but, honestly, I would have welcomed a thousand more just to be rid of the snake staring me down as if I were a rabbit.

I had to get out of here.

“Malcolm!”

“I can send a surge of power through you, enough to knock it away, but if I give you enough to kill it Lucifer will know you are being helped. I’m not sure you can outrun a snake that size nursing that injury. And you certainly won’t be able to climb a damn tree. Not that it would matter, snakes can climb trees, too.”

At the mention of my dislocated arm, it started throbbing in tormenting, knife-stabbing pain.

The head of the snake seemed to turn to the side in curiosity at my discomfort.

Was it thinking? Snakes didn’t have a consciousness. Why the hell hadn’t it struck me? It was just eyeing me like it was debating whether or not to let me go or keep me for a meal. The whole fascinating look was back in its eyes, and the damn thing seemed to be smiling.