Page 113 of Infernal

Instead, I had rented myself a room in some dingy fleabag motel two towns over, where I could be alone with my thoughts. Alone with the agonizing memory of draining the light from Trace’s eyes. I replayed the moment in my mind like a ghostly reel, each time letting the pain burrow deeper into my heart.

It was what I deserved.

The pain of losing my friends—of losing him—had proven to be unsurmountable, but I took the agony wholly and willingly, refusing to allow myself even a moment of reprieve. Every minute I spent alone with the pain only deepened my suffering, encouraging me to keep drudging on, deeper and deeper into the darkness where I belonged.

A soft knock sounded at the motel door, momentarily breaking through my self-appointed sentence. My eyes darted across the room, slicing through the darkness with ease. I had become accustomed to it—to the shadows. My eyes had long since acclimated themselves to the absolute void of light.

It was just as well, really; a perfect mirrored reflection of how I felt inside.

I furrowed my brows and stared at the doorway, half expecting Lucifer to blow through the door and finish the job he started. But I knew that wouldn’t happen. That would be far too easy of a punishment for what I had done.

Ignoring the knock, I pulled my legs up to my chest and dropped my chin onto my knees. The only person who knew where I was staying was my sister, and I really didn’t want to see her right now. And since I already knew that if I ignored her long enough, she would go away, that was exactly what I did. Just like I did that morning. And the night before. And the morning before that.

Another knock sounded, this time harder, and I ignored that one too.

Anxious for her to get the message and leave me alone, I leaned my head back against the wall and shut my eyes, once again allowing the darkness to wither in and consume me.

But instead of the deafening screams of my personal demons, I heard the door rip open before slamming full force into the stopper on the other side of the wall. My heart jumped up into my throat as my eyes rushed across the room, angry and eager to curse my sister out for daring to intrude when all I wanted was to be alone with my misery.

Only it wasn’t Tessa. It was Gabriel.

He was standing in the doorway, his feet spread apart, as the motel lights dusted his form from behind, making him look like a glowing angel that nobody sent for.

His eyes quickly scanned the dreary room before finding me huddled in the corner. My knees still tucked into my body. My cheeks eternally streaked with tears.

“Jemma.” His features were shadowed from the dimness of the room, but I knew he was frowning.

“She told you were I was?” I asked, disbelief marring my voice. I don’t know why I was even surprised. Tessa told Gabriel everything. Certainly more than she ever told me.

“She’s worried about you.” He took a small step forward, though he still hadn’t entered the room. “We all are.”

“I’m fine, Gabriel.” I squinted up at him as the light from the outside passageway assaulted my eyes. “I just want to be alone.”

“You’ve been alone for days,” he countered, as though I wasn’t aware of time anymore. “You look like you haven’t eaten or slept in a week.”

“I told you I’m fine. I just want to be left alone. Now, will you please shut the damn door and leave me the hell alone?”

At my request, he slammed the door shut, except he was now standing on the wrong side of it. Instead of leaving me to my demons, he flicked on the floor lamp by the window and folded his arms over his chest, grimacing down at me.

“Turn it off!” I cried, feeling like a frail street rat, running from the light.

He didn’t budge an inch.

“Turn the damn lights off, Gabriel!” I was shouting at him now, but he still wasn’t moving. “Dammit! Can’t you people just leave me the hell alone?!”

“You need a shower, and you need to eat,” he said, looking down at me with disappointment. Or maybe it was sadness? I couldn’t tell anymore. “You can either do it alone, and willingly, or we can do it the other way.”

“Are you threatening me?” I narrowed my swollen eyes at him.

“I’m trying to help you, Jemma.”

“I never asked for your stupid help,” I fired back, looking for a brand-new outlet for my pain.

“No, you didn’t,” he agreed, his eyes moving over me pitifully. “But I’m your Handler, so you’re getting it anyway.”

“TemporaryHandler,” I corrected, pouring venom into the status, as though it were a dirty word.

“Correct,” he said and then stalked across the room towards the bathroom. “But that doesn’t make me any less your Handler right now,” he said and then flipped the bathroom light on.

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