Possessed By You (Overworld Underground Book 1) (33 page)

Isabel and Jack were snuggled up on the couch watching Animal Planet and talking softly to each other as I came down the hallway.

"I'm going out for a bit," I said.

"You don't have to leave," Isabel said, turning around. "Maybe we could break out the Monopoly board and some wine."

"That'd be fun," Jack said, though I suspected he'd say the same thing if Isabel suggested running naked across a bed of red-hot nails.

"I have something I need to do," I said.

Isabel's eyes lit with understanding. She disentangled herself from Jack's arms, came over, and hugged me. "I'm here for you if you need me. But I think you're doing the right thing." She kissed my cheek. "Good luck, sis."

I fought back tears as I nodded. "Thanks." I practically flew down the hall to the lift. Every second of descent felt like an eternity as I waited for the contraption to finally reach the parking deck. I'd hardly driven my car at all since moving in and hoped it still worked.

I found the pathetic little thing huddled in a lonely corner of the parking deck, and unlocked it. The door creaked open, and I hopped in. A stale odor greeted me. I turned to see a bag with the remnants of a forlorn sub sandwich within. I'd forgotten to throw it away, apparently. The car shuddered to life when I turned the key, emitted wheezing sounds, and belched a cloud of white smoke. But it kept running. It might not be a Lamborghini Gallardo, but it would do, I supposed.

I somehow navigated the streets to the Gregorian without using my GPS. Every stoplight stayed red for a seeming eternity as worry and impatience swelled inside my stomach. Why hadn't Tyler come to work at all during the past week? Had he done something terrible to himself? Or had he simply returned to a normal life—whatever that might be for him?

A text dinged on my phone. Hope welled inside me. I looked and felt horribly disappointed to see it was from George Walker.

We need your services once again. Can we collect you tonight?

I sent back a terse message.
Not tonight. I have a family emergency.
It was a small lie, but not too far off the mark.

When I arrived at the Gregorian, I saw a familiar car parked out front, white steam trailing in the cold air. I parked behind it and walked up to the window. Joe saw me and got out.

"Miss Glass?"

"Where's Tyler, Joe?"

He frowned. "He gave me the week off. I went out of town to visit some family, and just got back today, but he's not answering the landline phone or his cell phone, so I came over."

"You haven't heard from him at all this week?"

He shook his head. "No, but I didn't think anything of it since he told me to take the week off. Apparently, he hasn't been into his corporate offices either. Nobody's heard a thing."

"And nobody thought this was odd?"

"I'm new, Miss Glass, so I don't know what would be odd for him." He scratched his head, a puzzled look on his face. "Wait a minute, are you telling me
you
haven't seen him either?"

"We got in an argument last Friday. I got really mad and left, and haven't spoken to him since."

"Oh." Joe seemed to soak that in with some alarm. "Not good."

"Can you get me upstairs?"

"Yes. But I'm not sure if—"

"Please, Joe." I blinked back sudden tears, certain that Tyler had done something horrible. My God, what if I'd driven him to suicide? What if the Exorcists had gotten to him?

"Well, I guess it makes sense now," Joe said. "He sounded like he was numb. Like he just didn't care about anything when he told me to take time off." He clamped his mouth shut as if he'd said too much. "I'll let you in."

"Thanks, Joe." Tears escaped my eyes, trickling down my cheeks.

Joe pressed his thumb against the door reader, and did the same for the lift, riding up with me. When we reached the penthouse, he knocked on the door.

No answer.

He knocked louder, banging the side of his fist against the thick wood. "Mr. Rock, it's Joe. Are you okay?"

Silence.

"Open it, please," I begged, my heart pounding with fear for what I might find inside.
Please let him be okay.

Joe opened the door.

I ran inside. The kitchen was empty. Dirty plates I recognized from the week before still sat on the table. One lay on the gray marble, shattered. My heart leapt into my throat. I ran through room after room, but they were all empty.

"Where is he?" I asked Joe, frantic with worry and despair.

"Found something." Joe displayed a thick yellow book.

"What is it?"

"The yellow pages."

"The what? Who in the world uses those anymore?"

Joe pointed to a long line of highlighted and crossed-out entries, all of them under the main heading of "Churches." The last one, a Catholic church, wasn't crossed out. "If I had to guess, I'd say that's where he is."

"Can you take me there?"

"Let's go."

My mind raced with questions. Why churches? Was he looking to get religion in his life, or was he trying to find the Exorcists? The second Joe stopped at the curb outside the towering cathedral, I ran inside. Worshippers sparsely populated the rows of wooden pews, some kneeling on the prayer benches. I walked down the aisle, my eyes sweeping from side to side, my mind running in place with confusion.

Supposing he were truly a demon, why would he be here? Was it possible he was a fallen angel seeking redemption? If so, how old was he?

Calm down, Emily. Keep it together.

My hands shook. My body trembled. Was if fear? Apprehension? Dread? I was willing to bet it was a combination of everything. This was just too much to handle. I wanted Tyler, but I feared him. I feared what he did to me, how he made me feel, and how he shattered my self-control.

I passed an old woman in a dark shawl as she prayed fervently in a broken voice. A young man, thin and gaunt, rocking back and forth with closed eyes. A smiling girl, happily praising God. And then I spotted him, isolated in the far front corner, body slumped, forehead resting on the back of the pew in front of him. He looked so sad. So beautiful. Like an angel in repose.

My body froze, legs refusing to move toward him. I was here, he was there. All I had to do was talk to him. My heart thudded at an alarming rate, and a tingle drew goose bumps along my arms. I wanted to touch him. Wanted to kiss him. But I felt like a deer in a hunter's sights without him even looking at me.

You're in a bloody church you nitwit. He can't hurt you here.

That might be true, but how was it possible for him to be
inside
a church in the first place? Wasn't such a thing impossible? Shouldn't the very earth shake, and the marble floor split and swallow him whole? Either his presence here was a promising sign, or it meant none of us were safe from beings like him.

I forced myself to move toward him. When I was only feet away, he jerked up. Looked my way. His eyes went wide, and his mouth fell open. He stood, head shaking, eyebrows pinched.

"Emily." His voice was rough, full of emotion.

"I'm here, Tyler." I sat on the pew even as he backed away. "I'm ready to listen."

"You should go."

I felt my eyes flare with disbelief. "Go? Are you bloody kidding me?" I clamped a hand over my mouth as nearby worshippers gave me harsh looks.

The corners of Tyler's mouth twitched, but he made no move toward me. "You were right to run from me." He backed from the pew and walked toward the exit at the far end of the sanctuary.

My face went hot with anger and frustration. Pressing my lips together to keep me from shouting at him, I followed him in silence, hoping Joe would prevent him from going anywhere once he emerged. Tyler reached the arched door into the vestibule and I lost sight of him for a moment. I picked up my pace, thankful my rubber-soled boots let me pad silently across the tiled flooring.

Joe stood squarely in front of the doors. Tyler stood facing him, his face impassive. He turned to me, his eyes glittering darkly.

"Joe, please wait in the car."

"Yes, sir." The other man nodded at me before slipping back outside.

Tyler shook his head, his mouth pressed into a firm line. "Let's walk."

I noticed with some despair, he didn't hold out his hand for me, or even wait before stepping outside into the cold night air. I caught up with him, resisting the urge to grab his arm. To launch myself into his arms and feel his body against mine. His attitude made me feel like a complete stranger, and it hurt.

"Are you mad at me for running?" I said, pacing beside him.

He shook his head, eyes locked on the sidewalk before us. "No."

I waited for him to elaborate, but apparently, he had no plans to do so. "So we're down to one-syllable answers, are we?" I grabbed his elbow and planted my feet, jerking him around. "Explain yourself, mister." A knot tightened in my throat when I saw the emerald storm of pain brewing in his eyes. "I'm sorry, okay? You scared the hell out of me, and I ran like a startled cat. I want to understand what's going on here."

"There's nothing to understand. I'm bad for you. You should turn around and never look back. Even if we wanted to be together,
they
wouldn't let us. They'll find me again, and push me out of this body. Coming back will get harder and harder until it takes me years to be able to do it again." His knuckles popped as his hands clenched tight. "Damn it, Emily, I want you. I usually take what I want. But with you, it's not just wanting anymore."

I stepped closer, gripping his bare hand in both of mine. He shivered as our hands joined. "What is it then?" I asked.

"I don't know exactly. It's as if I need you. Being apart from you hurts."

A tear trickled down my cheek. "It hurts me too, Tyler."

"That's why it's better if we end this. When they find me again, it'll hurt even worse when they send me back." He pulled his hand away, folded his arms across his chest.

"No!" I shoved him. He didn't budge an inch, though alarm entered his eyes. "Can't you see I want to understand you? Can't you see I want to be with you? Do you know how painful these past few days have been for me?" Tears flowed freely down my face. I squeezed my eyes shut, and pressed a hand over them, trying not to sob, and failing miserably.

Strong arms embraced me and I felt Tyler's body heat against my cheek. I melted into his arms, unable to say another word, wanting more than anything to hear him say he wanted the same thing.

"Every day is an eternity of pain without your smile to warm me," he said in a tight voice. "What I feel for you scares me to death, Emily."

I looked up at him through tear-blurred eyes and said, "Me too. I don't want to feel this pain."

He cursed. Looked to his left and motioned with his fingers. "Let's go someplace warmer and talk."

"Your place," I said.

"Are you sure?"

I nodded. "I know you won't hurt me."

He smoothed back my hair, gazing at me as if he could see through my eyes and into my very soul. "I would never hurt you, Em."

"Then kiss me," I said, aching to feel his lips against mine.

He paused for only a fraction before lowering his face to mine. I shivered, as the tension and pain flowed away from me, replaced by the security of his embrace, and the electricity of touch. The kiss went on, his hand tangling tight in my hair, sending tingles along my scalp. He pulled away, rubbed his nose against mine in a tender Eskimo kiss.

"God, I've missed you, Em." He let out a shuddering breath.

"You can use His name?" I said, unable to suppress a smile as joy warmed me from my head to my toes.

He chuckled. "Apparently."

"Does Joe know about you?"

"No." He shook his head. "You're the only one."

The only one?
I felt special and insatiably curious to find out more about this...man. "Let's go."

He kept an arm around my waist, never letting go even when we slid into the back seat of the SUV, as if afraid I'd fly away like one of those balloons should he let me go. Joe turned his head, a grin on his face. "Where to, Mr. Rock?"

"Home, Joe."

"Yes, sir."

I closed my eyes and leaned into Tyler, drawing in his tantalizing scent and, for the first time in days, feeling whole again. The cold ache of loneliness melted away. We reached his flat minutes later and went inside. He looked at the mess on the floor, went around the counter, and poured himself a drink.

"Would you like anything?"

I almost refused, but even my inner ninny seemed to think a bit of alcohol might help loosen me up for whatever was to come. "White wine, please."

He poured me a glass. Took a deep breath. "Are you ready?"

I didn't think I could ever be ready for what he might have to tell me. But I nodded my head and suppressed a tremble of fear and anxiety. "I'm ready."

Chapter 30

He opened his mouth, faltered. "I'm not sure where to begin, really."

"How old are you?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Oh, you mean, my natural form."

"Are you a fallen angel? Are you thousands of years old?"

He raised a hand to stop me. "I'm not sure if I can put it in mortal terms."

Oh God, he must be even older!
What would an entity that ancient want with me? I was barely a blip on the radar. I suddenly felt very small and insignificant.

"I suppose," he said, eyes narrowed in concentration, "that I must be around thirty or forty in mortal terms." His eyes looked to the side. "No, wait. More like thirty. Because I remember glimpsing the mortal plane just after—" He stopped speaking again, his gaze unfocused. "I'm sorry. It's hard to relate it to this realm."

"By mortal, you mean Earth?"

"I mean this plane of Earth—Eden. I'm from a different realm, I guess you would call it."

"Hell?"

He winced. "It can be like that. Then again, Hell is where you find it. Or make it. We call it Haedaemos."

"What an odd name." I opened my mouth to pepper him with more questions, then clamped it shut to let the poor man speak. Otherwise, he'd never have the chance to explain.