Dark of Night - Flesh and Fire (33 page)

Everything that had happened, from Chloe’s reemergence to helping her get here, to their long history together, seemed so unimportant now. Only survival mattered. He kicked and struggled, but Samael didn’t let go.

Todd looked down into the demon’s face and saw eyes ablaze with angry fire. The skin on Samael’s other hand took on a ghostly pigment. Inside the translucent flesh, white worms writhed and twisted. Todd tried to pull free as the ethereal hand touched his chest.

Intense chills spread through his core.

“Well, I hope she’s been worth it,” Samael said.

Memories of his life with Chloe, long before she died, played through his mind and he knew Samael was sharing these memories. From touching him, this beast was able to explore Todd’s soul, his thoughts, and his deepest, darkest recollections. They shared a perverse sort of intimacy. Within seconds, Samael learned everything about Todd. Samael tore these memories from him with the greed of a man near starvation tearing into a package of food. It was as if Todd’s life flashed before his eyes, but each image was ripped away rather than peacefully transitioning from one memory to another.

“You’ve known her a long time,” Samael acknowledged. “You’ve
loved
her a long time, but this is fate, and you have no right to interfere.”

Samael threw him across the street and he crashed into the trunk of a car with a metallic thud awakening new pains in his body. The car’s spoiler dug into his ribcage, taking the wind out of him. His hands crossed his midsection as he fought to catch his breath before Samael approached.

Chloe’s subjugator moved slowly now, confident as the sky darkened above him. Todd tried to rise and almost fell forward, but Samael took him by the hair again. The pain in his scalp intensified as Samael lifted him off of his feet. He felt the roots of his hair tearing free, unable to support his weight. He braced for the end, but knew deep down that no expectation could prepare him. This monster intended to take Todd to Hell.

His heart slammed in his chest, protesting the cruelty of the moment, perhaps intending to force its way out and flee to a safer place. Todd expected his life to flash before his eyes once again, but all he knew was immediate terror and pain. Samael pulled back his ethereal fist, undoubtedly intending to punch right through Todd's heart.

The release came. He flew away from Samael in an instant. He felt no pain. He fell forever.

That’s okay
, he thought.
How long did you think you could keep this up anyway?

* * *

Todd awoke to a sting on his cheek. A dark-haired angel hovered over him in the night sky, her face haloed by silver light. She was saying something, but he couldn’t hear her. He wondered if Chloe had been wrong about the hereafter, if he was now in Heaven.

He spoke her name and his lucidity returned. There wasn’t an angel hovering over him. It was her, and she was yelling at him to get up. He recalled the pain in his cheek. Had she slapped him?

“Come on, Todd. We have to go.”

He shook the last of the haziness from his head and let her help him into a sitting position. She looked off to the left and he followed her gaze. Samael lay in a bloody heap. Les’s car was nearby, the hood baring a large dent and splotches of blood.

Chloe took his hands in both of hers. “We have to go.”

There was commotion behind him, a few frantic voices and some doors opening. He looked back at Samael and saw the man starting to stir.

“No fucking way.”

“Let’s go!” Chloe pulled him up. “Now!”

Todd limped his way to the car, his muscles and bones aching in countless places, and wondered how much more abuse his body could take. Chloe rounded the vehicle ahead of him and slid into the driver’s seat. Someone hollered for them to stop.

“I’ll drive. Come on.”

Instead of arguing, Todd let himself into the passenger side and crumpled into the seat. Chloe put the car in drive. The tires squealed as she floored the accelerator and he jerked back against the seat.

“Buckle up,” she said.

“Can you give a dead girl a ticket?” The ridiculousness of his words made him realize how disoriented he was.

“No, but I can put you through the windshield. Buckle up!”

He obeyed and looked ahead. “Fuck.”

Samael stood in front of them, shaking the pain out of his limbs. Chloe kept the gas pedal pressed down. Samael raised his head and gritted his teeth. He bent his knees, prepared to jump.

Chloe hit him head on and he tumbled over the top of the car. Samael’s naked flesh struck the pavement behind them with a wet slap. Chloe swerved out into the next street. Brakes squealed and a horn honked. Todd rubbed his aching head and stared at the blood trickling down the windshield. The madness of the moment came at him from all sides. The car’s engine roared angrily as Chloe accelerated.

“God… Holy fucking shit!”

Chloe made another turn and then another. Without her saying it, Todd knew that her primary goal was to get lost.

* * *

Todd braced himself against the dashboard to stop himself from shaking, but the effort only made things worse. Nearly twenty minutes had passed since Chloe drove them out of Red Grove and back onto the highway. Not a word passed between them, but the inside of the car was tense in the bombed out aftermath of their confrontation with Samael. Night had fallen and the air surrounding them was black as crude oil. Every time he tried to catch his breath, he saw himself suspended in the air by Samael, the ghostly fist reared back to strike, his life on the threshold of its end.

“J-Jesus, I can’t stop sh-shaking.”

Chloe pulled over and slammed on the brakes.

“What are you doing?”

She didn’t respond. She kept her hands locked tightly on the steering wheel and drew in a sharp gasp. Todd leaned back and tried to catch his own breath.

“I can’t believe it.” He curled his hands into tight fists, held them together and released them. His normal breathing still hadn’t returned, but he no longer felt like he was going to have a heart attack. “I don’t think I’ve ever been… so close to death before.”

He looked at Chloe for acknowledgment. She pressed her head against the steering wheel. Her dark hair fell in front of her face and made it impossible to read.

“What is it?”

She stayed silent. As he struggled to get his breath back to normal, the moments crawled by.

“Chloe?” He heard desperation in his voice.

She raised her head. Fresh tears had sprung from her eyes and glistened in the dashboard lights.

“You have to let me go. You can’t keep risking your life for me. You have something to live for. Me, all I know how to do is run, and no matter how far I go, how fast, he’ll find me. I can’t make you a part of this.”

Each word hit Todd like a punch to the gut. None of them were meant to knock him out. They were crueler than that, even if she didn’t intend them to be. They pummeled him into submission, stretched his threshold for pain, but never delivered a knockout blow. Instead he was forced to remain lucid while he endured the sharpness of her words. They reminded him of a conversation they’d had after her third relapse. It was the time they decided to part ways for good. He hadn’t caught her in a lie or found her in her room plunging a needle into her arm.

They'd been on their way to a gig at the Black Horse in the dead center of summer. His car windows had been down, letting the warm air inside. His guitar and her keyboard equipment had shared a space in the back seat with a folded up blanket, a pillow, a notebook, and a copy of Stephen King’s
Night Shift
, as well as empty coffee cups and crumpled packages that had once held food. He'd had The Cure playing on the stereo, filling the car with energetic gloom.

As he'd driven, it had seemed like a perfect night, but for the fact that he'd been able to tell something had been bothering her. Her answers had come out in few words. She had hardly been able to look at him. Whenever he asked if she was okay, she had smiled and told him “yes,” but her eyes had betrayed a deep sadness. Though he'd known she was lying, he hadn't wanted to pry. They had to put on a show and he hadn’t wanted anything to stop them from doing what they did best.

Nothing had. They played their set, one of the best sets during their run as the Black Horse’s house band. Their energy on the stage had spread throughout the bar and everyone had danced and clapped. As they played, he had even forgotten that something may have been wrong. For all he knew, it could’ve been his own anxiety.

Outside the bar they had loaded the last of their equipment into his back seat. She put a hand on his arm and said his name. He had turned to her, seen moisture in her eyes and had known what she'd say before she said it.

“It happened again. I’m sorry.”

He'd leaned back against the car, stared up into the night sky and felt his energy from the show sucked out of him. He tried to compose himself. He'd known she was struggling with something he’d never understand, but that hadn’t stop him from feeling hurt and betrayed. He'd remembered the last two times it happened, and her promises that it wouldn’t happen again.

“Chloe…”

She'd tried to hold his hand, but he pulled away from her.

“Todd, listen,” she’d said. “I’m really sorry, but I’m trying. I’m trying so goddamn hard, but it’s just not working. I’m… it’s like something’s after me… that nothing I do will stop it. It always catches up.”

He'd wondered then what she meant by that, but now, in the present, he knew she’d always meant Samael.

After her confession and subsequent plea for forgiveness, he’d ended it for good. He said he couldn’t keep doing this, and until she came back from the dead, he never spoken to her again. He’d left because he was scared he wouldn’t be able to help her, and it had felt better to abandon her.

Now, after she asked him to do the same, he remembered the conversation well. He looked her up and down. She met his eyes. Her expression was hard, as if maybe she expected him to take her advice and she was bracing for the hit. Years had passed since that night and looking back, he felt like maybe he’d been scared the entire time.

“Earlier today, I would’ve agreed with you in a heartbeat. I mean, I have you in the car with me, which should, by all accounts, be impossible. This is just… we just came from the town we grew up in. We used to drive those streets all the time. We used to take our instruments to get them fixed over at Lynd’s. I used to play shows at the Black Horse Pub and you’d get on stage and sing with me. I haven’t thought about any of this shit for years.”

“Were you trying to forget?”

“I guess I was. And today, today has felt like a dream and I can almost convince myself that it is, except you’re here. This is really fucking happening." He ran a nervous hand across his head. "I can’t forget. I can’t let go.”

“But you must. It’s okay if you agree with me. It’s okay if you’re even sorry I came back.”

“That’s the thing, Chloe. That’s what’s driving me nuts.” Another dry laugh. “I thought I had the life I wanted. I gave you up for this life and now it’s falling apart. Not a little, but a lot. I almost never see my wife; I’m pretty sure she’s having an affair. One of my kids won’t even talk to me and the youngest is stuck in the middle of all this.” He looked away, as if ashamed of all he was telling her. “In spite of the danger we’re in, in spite of the fact that I’ve almost died three fucking times today, I’m so glad to see you alive.”

“Alive?” She smiled and he couldn’t believe that she was doing it. “I thought about you until the day I died. I tried to focus on you sometimes, in that other world, but the pain was usually too much for me to think about anything else.”

He looked down at his hands. “I’m sorry, Chloe.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“But maybe if I’d stayed with you…”

She put a finger to his lips. “None of that matters now. What matters is what we can do to make it better. That’s all.”

“You’re right.” He kissed the tips of her fingers. “And now, I’ll do anything. I swear it. I won’t leave you”

~Chloe~

His eyes had determination in them that reminded Chloe of the young man she’d fallen in love with so long ago. She touched his face and he flinched, but he relaxed the more she stroked his cheek. She loved the feel of his skin under her fingers. It reminded her of the old days. The skin was older, and he had changed so much, but the fact that he’d trusted her and taken her this far showed that he possessed at least some of the fire she’d admired in him. She leaned forward and kissed him.

At first he pulled his head away and shut his lips, but she persisted until his mouth came to meet hers. She slipped her tongue inside. He seized handfuls of her hair and pulled her tighter against him. He smelled like a mix between coffee, Old Spice and frantic desperation. Their lips parted for a brief moment and he whispered her name. They kissed again. A sea of emotion flooded the moment, and she allowed herself to get lost in it, to fall beneath its intense and troubled waves. His mouth worked on her vigorously and her lips buzzed with electric pleasure.

Dread sank in. This moment would end and that was worse than Samael’s pursuit and all the fires of Hell. They had to be closer than this.

She broke the embrace, but only temporarily, unbuckled her seat belt and climbed over the center console. She settled her knees alongside each of his hips and brought her hands down to his belt buckle.

“Chloe, don’t,” he said, but his hardness told her otherwise. She shut up his protests with another kiss.

She worked him out of his pants and touched him. He was hot with desire and he responded to her touch with a soft whimper. As she lifted her dress, she held her sex above his. He tensed.

“Relax,” she said, and buried her mouth into the soft flesh of his neck. "I just want to be as close to you as possible. I've missed you so much."

She slid him inside her with ease and shut her eyes, feeling the intense connection, the familiarity of it. They’d made love like this many times before, pulled over to the side of the road, so taken with passion that they couldn’t wait until they got home. As he moved inside her, as she rolled her hips against him, it was as if they were young again. Her dark hair swung back and forth between them. He groped her hips as if needing the constant reminder that she was actually there.