Arianna Rose: The Gates of Hell (Part 5) (13 page)

Though he was utterly captivated by her frosty indifference to the woman’s pleas, he still needed information.  He needed to find the bell tower. 

“Take me where I’ve asked you to take me or I will take your wife and daughter against their wills, violate them right here in front of you,” he threatened the man.

This threat drew the
most telling reaction he’d seen yet from Lilith.  Her eyes widened, her pupils dilated, and her chest swelled as she drew in an excited breath.  She was his sadistic Cinderella, his murderous maiden.  He almost hoped the man would hold out and force him to make good on his promise, for her twisted enjoyment. 

“No please!  I’ll do whatever you want, just don’t hurt anyone else,” he cried. 

“If you do as I ask, the rest of your family will live.  You have my word.  But if you don’t,” he said and allowed his gaze to linger where the young man lay in a broken heap. 

“I will.  Please leave the rest of my family alone,” he said through tears.  “F-follow me,” he said and walked past
Darius, Lilith, Baal and Naberius jerkily, over the busted door and out onto the front porch.  “My truck is right over there in the driveway,” he pointed an unsteady finger toward a dark, older-model pickup truck.  It’s not far.  We just need to go around those woods and make our way toward the shore.”

“The shore?” Darius said and seized the man’s wrist.

“Wh-what’re you doing?  I’m cooperating.  I swear!”

Darius disregarded the man’s ramblings and envisioned himself standing exactly where he’d been when he arrived.  Color swirled before his eyes and a flash of heat seared his flesh as he passed from one place to the next.  When a landscape took form before his eyes, he saw the same sights he’d seen earlier.  And still, no bell tower. 

“Oh my, how did you,” the man started several times.  “How did you do that?  How did we get here?”

“This is where I started out, where I was drawn to,” Darius mused out loud.  Then to the man, he said, “Show me exactly where the bell tower was before the storm.”

The man simply stared at him, his eyes puffy and swollen, and his nose running.  He alternated between crying and sniffling, both loathsome and annoying.  “Why did you kill my son?” he blubbered.

Growing more incensed with every second that passed, Darius growled through his teeth, “If you don’t pull yourself together, I’m going to make good on my threat.”

“Okay, okay, no, please, I’ll pull myself together,” the man assured him through uneven pants.  He began walking, and stopped only when he stood just past the rust colored girders and in front of a polished marble set of memorial stones.  “This here Episcopal Church used to have the bell tower right here where we’re standing.  But when the storm came and the levees broke, well, you get the picture.”  His voice trailed off, and Darius did, indeed, have a picture in his mind.  Churning, violent seas, howling wind and swelling flood waters, all of it the work of his people, the work of the underworld.  Unfortunately, too many violent conditions claimed a marker of their destiny. 

The patch of grass he stood upon sang to him now when earlier it hadn’t.  The chill thrum of blackness seeped into his pores and slithered up his spine with serpentine deliberateness.  He closed his eyes, delighting in the
sensation, and saw it as it had been before the storm.  And the gateway began to glow in his vision, shining like a guiding light.  His hands rose, as if of their own volition, and felt the crackle of power sizzling like an electric current around the portal. 

A jolt broke from his core as he wrestled the molecular construction of the universe.  Beads of sweat stippled his forehead and gathered on his torso.  He breathed deeply
, inhaling slowly and evenly while reaching out with all his strength.  Soon a segment of air before him shimmered and vibrated, grainy like static on an old television set. 

With
his arms leaden and shaky from effort, he lowered his stance and stayed on his feet when the first of the demons rocketed past him. 

A burst of light followed then embers rained on him like confetti.  Dark energy rushed forth as more black souls entered the earthly plane.  

Using his powers, Darius held the portal open for as long as he could.  But too soon, it closed, leaving him lightheaded and with a dull headache.  Despite his symptoms, he observed a sinister spirit stop just beside the man whose son Darius had killed. 

“You stupid worthless piece of shit!” the demon spat and kicked up dirt and gravel at the man.  “You couldn’t keep your mouth shut and got my grandson killed!” he raged.  “Goddammit
, Pete!”

The man, whom Darius now knew was Pete, froze.  His jaw went slack and his eyes grew round, shock overwhelming his features.  “D-dad,” Pete gasped. 

“That’s right, ya sack of shit!  You’d think you’d have learned to keep your mouth shut after all the times I beat the livin’ shit out of ya when you were a kid,” the demon spat. 

“It’s not possible.  You’ve been dead for ten years.  What the hell is happening?”

“Hell is happening,” Darius interjected and answered.  “Hell is here.”  He felt his lips twist into a wicked smile.  He then turned to the fresh fleet of demons at his back and said, “Kill every living creature in this town except this man and his family.  I am a man of my word, after all,” he added realizing the demon that taunted him, his father, was worse than any death he could offer.  “Now, you go and visit with your family,” Darius turned to the demon and said.  “I’m sure your granddaughter would love to see you.  They’ve all missed you so much,” he sneered.

“No!” Pete screamed just before he dematerialized with his father.

Darius laughed and Baal made a chuffing sound.  Naberius’ mirthless laughter resounded through the hollows of every building and tunnel within a five-mile radius, tolling like a bell that heralded the annihilation of an entire community. 

Lilith floated next to him, her expression arcane yet
regal.  “That makes four,” she said in her mellifluous cadence.  “Three more gates to go.”  A trace of a smirk curved the corners of her mouth. 

“Yes Lilith, the world is almost ours.”

Chapter 10

After a few
short hours of restless sleep, Arianna woke feeling even more rattled by her interaction with Dane than she had when she’d gone to bed.  Tossing and turning continually as snippets of their conversation replayed in her mind’s eye like a bumpy black and white film reel did little to make sense of it all, especially since there was nothing to make sense of.  Dane had claimed he loved her, plain and simple.  And to make matters worse, he held Desmond responsible for Darius pursuing her and hunting everyone else.  He blamed Desmond for his sister’s death, for everything. 

Professing his love for her in addition to his deep-seated albeit unfounded
resentment created a bad situation from which there was no return.  How would she ever be around him again?  He’d placed his cards on the table, laid everything out for her to see, and what he’d revealed was love she could not reciprocate, and baseless hatred of Desmond she’d never understand.  He’d essentially ended their friendship.

The realization her relationship with Dane would never be the same, that he was lost to her, landed like a ham-fisted punch to her gut.  He hadn’t been struck down, killed defending their cause.  That, though tragic and heartrending, was understandable on some levels.  The question
why
was invariably answered.  Trying to decode what turned a person against one who’d been a trusted friend while simultaneously harboring affection for another was too challenging a question to contemplate, much less answer.  Only Dane knew how and why he’d come to despise Desmond, and why he loved her.  And she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear any more of his truths. 

Resting on her side, she brought her knees
toward her chest and curved her upper body so that she was nearly curled in a ball.  Tension cramped the back of her neck and made her temples throb.  But lying, as she was, gave her a false sense of physically holding herself together, it made the dull ache of losing a valued friendship slightly more bearable. 

But the thread of tolerability she clung to like a lifeline slipped through her fingers when movement beside her in
dicated that Desmond was waking. 

The daunting task of telling Desmond what
had happened, that he was right, loomed in her immediate future.  She hated thinking about her exchange with Dane.  The thought of reliving it seemed like cruel and unusual punishment.   The potent combination of exhaustion, confusion and plain old aggravation left her enervated.  She didn’t want to rehash the night’s events.

“Shit,” she breathed.

“Good morning to you too, my love,” he replied in answer of her breathy swearword. 

“Oh, sorry, that wasn’t meant for you,” she
half-fibbed.  Her utterance was not about him per se, it was more about the reaction she anticipated from him.  Even a simple quirk of his brow or tilt of his lips that implied an “I told you so” would drive her to the brink of madness. 

“How did things go with Dane last night?” he asked and she cringed.  “I didn’t hear you come in last night.  Guess you were very quiet or I slept like a rock,” he added and rubbed her back. 

She laughed uncomfortably.  “Huh, yeah, I guess,” she replied. 

“So was he okay?”

“Yup, just bombed out of his mind,” she answered breezily. 

“Wow, that’s a remarkable feat to accomplish for one of us.  He must have really set his mind to get drunk.  I mean he had to really commit—” he started but she interrupted.

“I get it,” she snapped.  “He was on a mission to get wasted.” 

“Whoa, what was that for?” he said and she could hear the hurt in his tone. 

She was mean, and she hadn’t intended to be mean.  She just opened her mouth, Pandora’s Box of snippiness, and the words flowed.  Rubbing her forehead, she rolled over to face him.  “I’m sorry Desmond.  I’m an ass,” she said.  “Last night was awful.  You were right about everything, about Dane’s feelings for me.”

Desmond’s face remained serene, without the slightest trace of
condescension or egotism. “You’re not an ass.  And I’m sorry last night was awful.”  He enveloped her in a warm embrace. 

“He was a mess, drunk and, I don’t know, confrontational,” she said as her form melded with his.  But her words caused every muscle in his body to tense. 

“Confrontational,” he repeated her word choice calmly, but his body betrayed the calm in his voice. 

“He wasn’t violent or anything,” she said quickly and felt him relax a tad.  “Look, if it’s all the same to you, I really don’t want to talk about it.  Desmond’s heart rate spiked.  She felt it against her chest.  “He told me he loved me.  I told him I love you.  He didn’t take it well, okay?” 

“Okay,” he answered.

“And now things are so messed up, I don’t see how they can ever be right again.”

A short pause passed between them, during which time Arianna’s mind worked and spun as effectively as wheels in mud, burrowing without traction. 

“I see,” Desmond’s rich voice filled her ears. 

They remained as they were for several minutes, holding each other, until restlessness snared her. 

“I’m getting up,” she said as she released Desmond.  “I need to shower and get some air.”

She started to pull away from him, but he tightened his grip for a moment, holding her close.  When he let go, he brought his hand to her cheeks.  He cupped her face and pressed his lips to hers.  “I’m here when you want to talk,” he whispered. 

“Thanks,” she said and slipped from the bed. 

“Hey, want some company?  We can hike to the river together, just the two of us.”

As much as she wanted to clear her head, a part of her really didn’t want to be alone.  “Sure,” she replied and surprised them both. 

Desmond’s crystal-blue eyes sparkled with happiness.  She couldn’t help but smile. 

“I’ll be right out and I’ll pack us some food while you get ready.  Sound good?”

“Sounds great,” he answered.

Arianna brushed her teeth and showered then dressed for her hike with Desmond.  The more she thought about trekking through the forest with only the man she loved and her backpack, the more she warmed to the idea.  Spending time exploring nature sounded like exactly what she needed to clear her head.  While Desmond readied himself, she packed bottles of water, snacks and two breakfast bars.  She wasn’t much of a cook, so what she had on hand was prepackaged.  Luckily, Desmond never complained.  He loved her despite that she wasn’t a Suzy Homemaker type of girl. 

She was grinning to herself, envisioning the two of them trying to prepare a dinner party or have company.  Fast-food on a platter came to mind.  So did a pile of meal replacement bars stacked elegantly. 

“What are yo
u smiling about?” Desmond asked.  His voice was warm and deep. 

“Oh just picturing us living a normal life, you know
, domestic bliss,” she admitted.

“What’re you saying?  This isn’t normal?” he asked facetiously.

“Wow, my sense of humor is really rubbing off on you, isn’t it?” she asked, commenting on the tiny threads of sarcasm that had wormed their way into his sense of humor since meeting her.  “I broke you, Desmond.  You used to be a sweet, sarcasm-free warlock, and now look at you,” she gestured to him.  “You’re turning into a bitter, cranky creature, like me.”