Page 1 of Redemption's Inferno

Prologue

The nightmares came almost every night. Full of blood and gore and the pungent smell of death. The wind howled like in the storms of 1950s horror movies, ripping through trees and rooftops until only tiny parcels of destruction were left. People screamed and cried, begging for mercy, as havoc rained down on everyone and everything. The sound of a baby crying played like a soundtrack set on repeat; the same piteous wail reverberating through the walls of her mind, keeping rhythm with her body as she thrashed on the bed.

Even in her dreams, Emilie Sjoberg could sense the Grim Reaper looming, so close she could feel his breath on her neck as she ran. She was always running, darting around corners and hiding in the shadows, but he managed to find her. Just before she found the baby, or shelter from the wind, or a safe haven to protect her, he was there, pulling her into the abyss. No matter how much she begged and pleaded, he merely held out his skeletal fingers, beckoning to her. The more she resisted, the closer the fingers got to her face, their icy moisture skimming the tip of her nose. She screamed over and over, until she woke with a panic-laden shriek, heart pounding like a jackhammer, hands protectively covering her face.

Breathing deeply, Emilie lay back and tried to calm her frantically pounding heart, hands clenched into fists as she struggled to relax. Another nightmare. The fourth in the last six days. They were becoming more frequent, more repugnant, and much more terrifying. She’d never been afraid of, or even put much thought into death, but now it lurked inside of her as if it were tangible. She couldn’t fight anymore; if her life was a swimming pool, she was becoming too tired to continue to tread water. She had to do something, and soon, or she was going to drown.

“I can’t do this anymore,” she whispered into the darkness. There was no relief and no light at the end of the tunnel. No matter how hard she tried, and in spite of all the wonderful things happening in her life, she was losing the battle waging within her.

Glancing towards the open door that led to the adjacent room where her 15-month-old daughter was sleeping, she knew that would be the hardest part of what she had to do. She had to go away in order to find the answers to what haunted her, and that meant leaving Simone behind. There was no way to know how long she would be gone, and the end result would almost definitely be prison. Which meant Simone could be without her mother for a very long time.

She knew that’s what the Grim Reaper represented in her dreams: prison. She was terrified of even the thought of being incarcerated, but that would be the only way to pay for what she’d done. Otherwise, she would never be free and never be able to enjoy life again. The problem, of course, was she didn’t know exactly what she’d done. Her first mission would be to find out what had happened, and once she knew the details, then she would accept whatever punishment was necessary.

Decision made, she closed her eyes and thought about what she needed to do to make this happen. Her ex-husband, Viggo, and his boyfriend, Jamie, were both professional hockey players so they were off until mid-September. It was mid-July now, and they’d just gone to Canada for the trial of the three men who’d beaten Jamie and nearly killed him. It was impossible to guess how long the trial would last, but the attorneys estimated no more than two weeks. Although this wasn’t an ideal time for her to get away, if she waited much longer it might leave them in the lurch with childcare when they started hockey practices in September.

Her mother was here in Las Vegas for the summer, helping Emilie’s brother Karl and his wife with their newborn twins. She would probably be able to help Simone’s nanny as well until Viggo and Jamie returned. Hopefully, by the time hockey season started, Emilie would know what was going to happen to her, giving them time to make preparations for Simone’s care if Emilie couldn’t come back. In the meantime, she had one other thing to do, but that could be done on the way to London. She just had to make sure no one knew her plans until she was gone.

Chapter 1

July

* * *

Walking up to the large brick building, Emilie pulled her lower lip between her teeth and took a deep breath. She stared at the bleak, windowless walls and wondered what it was like inside. She would only see the visitors’ area, but that would be more than enough. She’d never been inside a prison before and just the thought made her a little queasy.

Forcing herself to put one foot in front of the other, she paused and turned to her friend Becca Lamonte. Six months pregnant and literally glowing, she stood next to Emilie patiently, her silver-blue eyes following her friend’s as she looked towards the building.

“It’s all right,” Becca said gently. “She can’t hurt you.”

“Sometimes words are more painful than weapons,” Emilie said quietly.

“You don’t have to see her,” Becca reminded her. “We can turn around and drive right back to New York.”

“No, I have to,” Emilie said, clearing her throat. “I need to ask her some questions, maybe get some closure.”

“I still think you’re crazy,” Becca murmured, thinning her lips into a flat line of disapproval. “We found out just how crazy she was during the trial—why do you need to revisit this?”

“I don’t know.” Emilie stared off into the distance with almost sightless eyes. “I just do.”

“All right.” Becca squeezed her arm. “I’ll be waiting for you in the car. Do what you need to do.”

“Thanks.” Emilie gave her a faint smile. “And thanks for coming with me—I don’t think I could have done it alone.”

“That’s what friends are for.”

* * *

Emilie hadn’t seen Therese in two years. Two years ago, almost to the day, Therese Anderberg had tried to kill Emilie and her older brother, Karl, in Las Vegas. She’d stabbed him with a needle containing a lethal dose of a sedative and it was only because the paramedics had arrived quickly that Karl had lived. Emilie could still see his large body falling to the ice that day, struggling to stay conscious while Therese laughed and laughed, as if him dying was the funniest thing she’d ever seen.

Today Emilie wished she had it in her to laugh at Therese, but she didn’t. All she could feel was pity as her old friend came into the room. Therese had always been tall and thin, but she was practically emaciated now. Her orange jumpsuit hung limply on her body and her face was pale and drawn. Her blue eyes sparked with energy when she spotted Emilie, though, a smile lighting what had once been a beautiful face. She seemed harder now, as though prison had truly changed her, and Emilie could only stare with a little bit of shock, a little bit of fear and a lot of pity. This woman had almost destroyed her life but looking at her now she couldn’t seem to hate her.

“You came!” Therese said happily, as though seeing Emilie made everything okay.

“You said it was important.” Emilie sat in the chair across from her, folding her hands in her lap.

“I thought we were besties! Why haven’t you come before now?” Therese demanded, cocking her head.

Emilie frowned. “You know, that whole thing where you tried to kill my brother? And me, for that matter.”

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