Inbetween (Kissed by Death, #1) (21 page)

“Don’t leave. I won’t ask again. I pro—”

I stopped when I heard it. Static electricity seemed to crackle in the air between us, then the floorboards under Finn’s shoes groaned with his weight. He took a deep, shaky breath, and his gaze… His gaze looked
reckless
. And then—

He kissed me.

I froze as his warm, solid lips pressed against mine. This…this couldn’t be happening. Finn was kissing me,
really
kissing me. My lips parted in surprise, my neck stinging, but the pain was worth it. He moaned against my mouth, and the sound ran through my body like fire in gasoline. One of his hands slid down my jaw, cradling my face to deepen the kiss. The other hand brushed down my ribs to touch the bare strip of skin where my shirt rode up. My arms wound around his back to close any space left between us.

His weight made me stumble against the bed and I winced, pain shooting up my leg as though I’d been stabbed all over again. Finn jerked away, but his hands held me in place. “Oh God…did I hurt—”

I pulled him back to me and sealed our lips, trapping the rest of his words inside. It
did
hurt. Everything did, but I didn’t care. Finn’s lips worked against mine and he shuddered, his hands careful of all the places that hurt.

“God,” he groaned resting his forehead against mine, shaking. “I want to feel this, Emma. I want to feel
you,
and I can’t.”

I frowned, but he kissed me again as if he could will himself to be alive and held my head in place, giving my neck the support it needed. I wanted him to be able to feel me, too. Wanted him to feel the fire in his veins like I did, and didn’t understand why he couldn’t.

All at once, there wasn’t room for any of the anger or the hurt over the lies. There was only room for Finn. The memories of this might have been good, but they were nothing compared to the real thing. His hands settled on my hips, gripping my flesh like he wanted more of me than he could get.

“Finn,” I whispered against his kiss, needing so much. Too much. I never wanted this to end. My hands slid around to his back, and his body slowly softened. Melted into a cool vapor against my skin. A burst of energy ripped us apart and he scattered into a thousand particles before he managed to pull himself back together. Once he was solid again he reached for me, but his hand turned to vapor against my skin.

“Damn it,” he said, dropping his hand. “I can’t…I can’t keep it together.”

Pain seared my neck and my need for Finn took my breath away. I reached for his shimmering form, needing to feel him again, but all that was left was a translucent version of the boy I loved. I clutched my chest where it hurt, and a choked sob ripped its way out of my throat.

“Emma, stop…don’t cry,” he pleaded. His gentle fingers, their breathy warmth touching my face, only made it worse.

“It’s not enough,” I cried, unable to stop myself. “This will never be enough.”

It hurt, loving him like this. It hurt knowing everything about our past, but knowing we didn’t have a future. I wanted to go to sleep and wake up to find it all a dream, because this kind of pain was going to kill me long before Maeve ever could. I wanted so many things I couldn’t have. I wanted him to be alive.

His eyes raked over me, a desperation in them that I’d never seen before. “Did you say Cash was drinking tonight?”

I nodded. Finn hopped up and went to the window. “If Cash comes to your window, let him in.”

I could barely see the fading shimmer of his outline in the moonlight. “What are you going to do?”

He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. “Just let him in.” With that he dissolved through the wall and into the darkness, leaving me aching and alone.

Chapter 31

Finn

I didn’t think. I just moved. Kept moving until I was sinking into a bleary-minded Cash, who was sitting on his sofa strumming a soft tune on his guitar. If I thought about it, I’d remember what I said to Scout that night on the mountain, and what a disgusting excuse for a person I’d become the second I decided to do this. I told myself I didn’t have time to think about it, but as the dizziness swept through me from the feel of new blood rushing through my veins, not thinking was impossible.

Seeing Emma crumble, hearing her cry that what we had wasn’t enough, shattered what was left of my already shattered soul. I thought about the look in her eyes, the eagerness of her kisses, the way her hands seemed desperate to touch every part of me… I hadn’t been able to feel any of it. Not the heat of her skin against mine or the taste of her kiss. Going corporeal, risking everything to be with her—it was nowhere near enough to fill the gaping hole in my chest that cracked open when I stumbled into her room tonight. I hoped I had enough time to at least get Cash over there before Balthazar sent Easton to drag me to Hell. Even if the idea of me in her best friend’s body freaked her out, I didn’t want to leave her alone.

And I was going to Hell, all right. At least Easton and Anaya would watch over Emma after this. Anaya would for sure. Easton would probably be too pissed off at first, but Anaya would never let an innocent like Emma die. Especially not knowing what she meant to me.

I set the guitar on the floor and stood up, stumbling into the table in front of me as I worked out how to use my new legs. I felt like I was made of rubber, bending and wobbly in all the places that should have been supporting my weight. Disoriented, I shook my head. Things began to focus but when I spotted the empty beer cans on the coffee table I figured out the root cause of most of my problem.

“Where are you going? It’s freaking cold out there,” a blond kid slurred from a recliner in the corner of the room. I paused at the door and looked back at him, surprised for some reason that he could actually see me.

“I’m going to Emma’s.” My mouth snapped shut involuntarily when I realized it was the sound of Cash’s voice instead of mine. Damn it, this was weird. And if I thought about it much more, I wouldn’t be able to go through with it.

“Dude! What’s up with your eyes?” The kid sat up and squinted at me. “They’re green. Like, crazy green, man.”

Not wanting to open that can of worms, I stumbled outside. It was eerily quiet this time of night. No crickets, no hiss of tires gliding along the icy streets. Just the sound of Cash’s boots crunching through the freshly packed snow that spanned from his house to Emma’s. When I rounded the corner, I could see her. Her window was open and her face was there, scanning the darkness for me.

I stopped just short of the light spilling out onto the snow and watched her. Her face was flushed, her cheeks and nose pink from the cold. Her pale blond hair looked almost white in the moonlight, and her blue eyes were luminescent enough to cut through the night and right through to my core. I filled my lungs with icy air and took a step forward into the light. “Can I come in?” I asked in an unfamiliar voice.

She nodded and moved aside, watching me warily as I climbed clumsily though the window, then shoved it closed.

“Cash?” she asked, her voice a whisper.

I shook my head. I didn’t want to talk. I couldn’t stand hearing my words come out cloaked in his voice.

Emma looked into my eyes and eased back onto her bed, her eyes wide with shock. “Finn?”

I nodded and took a step forward.

“Oh my God…Finn, what did you do? Is Cash…is he…?”

I knelt down in front of her. “He’ll be fine.” I, on the other hand, wouldn’t be very soon. Balthazar had to know by now. I had maybe a minute or two before they dragged me through Hell’s gates.

“Why?” Her voice broke and a tear rolled down her pale cheek before landing on her collarbone.

“I want to be able to feel you like you feel me. To be with you without any limits, even if it’s only once,” I whispered. My fingers twitched, aching to touch her.

I couldn’t make myself finish. Instead, I leaned up until I was close enough to feel her breath fanning across my lips. Connection sparked between us, reeling me closer.

“But you’re not you,” she whispered.

“Look into my eyes, Emma.” I placed my palms on either side of her face, and the shock of her skin on mine, the heat…I shut my eyes and a breath shuddered out of me. I forced my eyes open, needing her to understand before they came for me. “It’s me. It’s Finn.”

She nodded. Her blue eyes fixed on mine. “You’re Finn.”

“Please say this is okay,” I said, the urgency drowning me.

She nodded and I couldn’t hold back any longer. I didn’t have time to. I kissed her, and the paper-thin space between our lips was crushed out of existence. Her mouth immediately opened, letting me in, and I slid my hands up her thighs to the edge of her cotton shorts. She tasted like chocolate and peppermint and life. Her smooth skin felt like silk. I needed more of her. All of her. I could barely breathe through the amount of want building up inside me. I didn’t want to waste time breathing.

My heart pounded so loudly I thought for sure she could hear it. It was a strange sensation after not having a heartbeat for seventy years. I leaned into her and my hip bumped her injured leg. Emma gasped against my lips.

“Damn it. Sorry.” Gently, I shifted her back farther on the bed. I wanted this, but I knew how much pain she had to be in. My palms pressed into the mattress on either side of her head as I leaned over her and touched my bottom lip to hers. I wanted to kiss her again, but didn’t know how to do it without losing control.

“Don’t stop,” she whispered, and her words left the thin wall of self-control I had built up crumbling.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” Not more than I already would be. I kissed her throat, tasting the spot just behind her jaw. Emma made a frustrated sound, pulling my face up, and our lips collided with so much force I groaned.

Emma whimpered and I swallowed the sound as her fingers found their way into my hair, tugging at the long spikes. Unfamiliar tingles danced across my scalp. I felt dizzy. I felt drunk. Completely intoxicated from all things Emma—her smell, the feel of her skin, her taste. It was driving me mindlessly over the edge.

She scooted back onto her bed, grabbing a fistful of my T-shirt to take me with her. I followed. I would have followed her into the fiery depths of Hell if she’d asked me to in that moment. Twenty-seven years of wanting her spilled into me, refusing to be satisfied. A desperate hunger twisted my stomach into anxious knots.

Her fingers tugged at the hem of my T-shirt and I broke away to help her pull it over my head before diving back in. Little whimpers and moans escaped her until I couldn’t tell the difference between pleasure and pain. But she wouldn’t let me stop. I didn’t want to stop. An involuntary moan rumbled somewhere deep in my chest. She felt so warm beneath me, so alive. God, I wanted her more than I’d ever wanted anything in my life.

“You taste so good,” I whispered against her moving lips. “You taste like peppermint. I almost forgot what that tasted like.” More importantly, she tasted like home. My hands inched up her tank top and touched her bare stomach, something I’d dreamed about doing for months. Last summer when she’d laid out, trying to tan her pale skin, all I’d wanted to do was touch her stomach. And now that I could, it was so damn worth it. I’d go to Hell a thousand times over to have my hands were they were now.

“What in the
hell
are you doing?”

Every muscle in my body tensed at the sound of Easton’s voice. I rolled away from Emma. He stood at the end of the bed, his eyes dark, angry. The blade in his hand flashed.

“Finn…what’s wrong?” Emma touched my hand.

I laced my fingers through hers and squeezed.
Not yet. God…I’m not ready yet.
“I love y—”

I didn’t get the words out. Not before Easton’s scythe pierced Cash’s chest and jerked me out in one swift tug. Pain sliced through me as I separated from blood and skin and bone, and a choking sound escaped my throat. He grabbed my arm, singeing my skin. A familiar black cavern of screams opened at our feet. I couldn’t look at him. My gaze was riveted on the porthole to Hell.

“I hope it was worth it,” Easton said.

I glanced over my shoulder at Emma, shaking Cash’s shoulders, trying to rouse his unconscious body. I’d never hold her again. Would never taste her, talk to her, or hear her laugh. There wasn’t going to be any “get out of jail free” card for me. Not this time. It was over.

I didn’t know what I could say to change anything, so I just said, “It was.”

Chapter 32

Finn

Everyone’s version of Hell is different. Or so Easton tells me. Some burn in fire. Some die in ice. Most drown in their nightmares, or choke on twisted fears and mangled memories. Only one thing is certain here—whatever your poison, it’s sure to last an eternity.

Easton tugged me down the ash path, through the blazing gates, and to the smaller iron gate where we’d deposited the two souls. He rapped his scythe on the bars and I knew I should have been afraid, but instead, I thought of Emma. I wanted to remember her warmth. I wanted to remember her breath in my mouth and my hands in her hair. I wanted to remember her like the dream she was before they turned her into a nightmare.

The gates opened. “Let’s go.”

It was dark here, and the heat strangled me. In the distance, screams morphed together into one long, continuous moan that felt infectious. Like the sound was reaching down into my belly trying to pull my scream up to join them. I flinched when the buzzing sound of a chainsaw echoed down the corridor. Something wet splashed under my shoes, but it felt too thick to be water. Smelled too metallic to be anything other than blood.

Someone cleared their throat and Easton stopped. A soft glow lit up the dark cave, splashing light onto the stone walls like melted gold. A rush of cold turned the sweat dripping off of my nose to ice.

Balthazar.

He folded his hands behind his back and sighed. Behind him, yellow glowing eyes blinked from the corners.

“You just couldn’t listen, could you?” he said, stepping toward me. He looked over my shoulder at Easton and jerked his chin. “You can go. I’m sure you have plenty of other work to do.”

Easton squeezed my arm once before releasing me. “What are you going to do to him?”

“That’s none of your concern.” Balthazar’s eyes glowed as he narrowed them on Easton. “But if you’re intent on staying, maybe we could arrange something for you, too.”

Easton hesitated in the doorway, his violet eyes burning with regret. Then he stepped into the darkness. I stood still, listening to the splash of his footsteps until he was gone. Lifting my chin and tamping down the fear inside of me, I looked at Balthazar. He had his own brand of regret settling across his face, but it wasn’t enough to change anything. He was probably more upset he was soiling his bright white robe, which was soaked in blood from the ankle down.

“Possessing a human?” Balthazar hissed. “Are you trying to make a fool of me? Did you honestly think it could go unpunished?”

I shook my head and considered ratting out Scout, who clearly wasn’t on Balthazar’s radar, but I didn’t. I’d known the consequences of my actions. They were mine and mine alone. “What’s next?” I asked, bracing myself. Balthazar didn’t answer right away. Instead he strode forward and nodded for me to follow. He ducked under the low, dripping rocks and when we came up on the other side, we were met by a crystal clear pool of water. Not understanding the compelling need to see it, I stepped forward. A rippling reflection of myself stared back at me, stone-faced, afraid. Something dark swam under the surface and my reflection smiled and waved, then burst into flames. Black skeleton fingers broke the surface and pulled the reflected Finn into the depths.

I wiped the sweat out of my face and swallowed a fresh batch of fear down my throat. “What is this?”

“Your worst fears. Your nightmares.” Balthazar looked into the water and smirked. “A place where they all come to life. Everyone’s Hell is different. This one is about to be yours.”

I closed my eyes and inhaled the rotten smoldering stench of this place into my lungs. I’d known this was going to happen. I’d been leading up to this moment for the past two years. But knowing didn’t make it any easier now that it was here.

“Please take care of her,” I said. “I might deserve this, but she doesn’t. Assign her a guardian. Send someone after Maeve. Anything. Just don’t leave her alone with my mistakes.”

“Emma is not my concern,” he said, grudgingly, as he turned to leave. “And she’s not yours anymore, either.”

“Balthazar, wait!” I reached out, but he was gone. A cool white fog lingered where he’d been standing, but the heat was quick to snuff it out.

Before I could pull in another acrid breath, the air was suctioned out of the room. My lungs burned and my eyes watered. The walls began to weave together, black vines crawling, braiding, and locking me in. I spun around and the glistening reflecting pool was gone. All that was left was a gaping crater. Vines crept up from the center, piling on top of one another until they spilled up over the edge. They smelled like they’d been soaked in jet fuel. I couldn’t breathe. I didn’t want to breathe. But God…I
needed
to breathe. I hadn’t needed to breathe like this in seventy years. One of the vines at my feet sparked and a slim flame swirled around the stem. The black leaves burst into ash as it danced closer and set another vine ablaze.

“Not this. Please,” I whispered to myself, and only to myself. Anyone here would only roll on the floor laughing at my plea for help.

Another vine went up and scorched the toe of my shoe, and I stumbled back, tripping over my own legs. One by one, the vines caught fire. Closing me in. Tighter. Tighter. I pressed my back against the heated stone wall behind me and curled into myself in a nest of vines. The black billowing smoke blinded me and fear took over.

The ground shuddered under me and I grabbed at the vines on either side of me. But I didn’t find vines. I found the sides of a sweaty vinyl seat. I looked up and the cockpit was filled with a choking black smoke. A flame stretched up from the back and licked my shoulder. I slapped at my jacket, trying to put it out.

“Not real. Not real. Not real.” I repeated it like a prayer, knowing it wouldn’t matter. My fist battered the dashboard as I watched the gauges spin out of control. I jerked at my seat belt, but it wouldn’t budge. The buckle to my harness had melted under the heat. A high-pitched whine filled my ears. I looked up a second before the ocean crashed in through the big cockpit window. Broken glass slapped me in the face. Salt water stung my charred back. I sucked in a lungful of…water.

Shit!

I sputtered in the black water and sucked in another gulp of wet brine that set my lungs on fire. I couldn’t tell up from down. My fingers grasped for something solid but found even more water. And when the world started to go black…it felt way too good not to let go.

My eyes flew open and a gut-wrenching scream ripped through the cave. It took a second to realize it came out of my mouth. That I wasn’t in the plane anymore. Flames crawled up my pants. My shirt. I shut my eyes and choked when the flames leaped onto my face. Through the inferno, Emma held Henry’s hand. They were burning, too. Burning and melting and reaching for me and I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe.

“Stop!” I screamed through my ruined lips. They felt numb now. At least there was that. Slowly, the red world in front of me turned to ash. Gray. Cold. I closed my eyes and shivered, curled onto my side. The flames were gone, and for a moment I thought they might have mercy. I thought they might just let me stay numb. But when I opened my eyes again, a new nightmare unfolded like an origami bird, slowly stretching out before me.

Pop’s farm.

I sat up and ran my hands over the frost-covered ground. The peach trees, brittle and dead, swayed under the cold pewter sky. An empty whistle of wind swept past me, stirring their branches. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t home. Ash, soft as petals, fell from the sky as I blinked at my surroundings.

“Pop!” I stopped to listen. Someone whimpered behind me and my muscles locked in place. It sounded far away and faint, but it was a whimper. I skirted through the peach trees. Trees I’d climbed in and broken bones in as a kid. Trees that had given us purpose. A life. I laid my palm against the crumbling bark of a tree and it turned to ash beneath my fingertips. The whimper crept up my spine, this time from behind me. I spun around and found Pop leaning against a tree. Black and charred. Clinging to life.

A sob welled in my chest, and I fell to my knees in front of him. His calloused hands reached out for me and I grasped one of them in mine, ignoring the way they scorched my skin.

“Pop…no.”

“You left,” he gasped. “You left us.” He said it over and over until my ears wanted to bleed. Behind me, trees erupted in flames until the field consisted of nothing but heat and ash and disfigured memories. I backed away from Pop and winced when a flame sprang to life on my back. It crawled down my arms, setting my fingertips ablaze.

He was right. I’d left. I’d burned. And now I was dead.