Page 310 of Caelum

By the door, Reed was the closest to her, and she pressed her face into his bulky chest, squeezing him tight as she embraced him. Into his pecs, she mumbled, “Thank you for being a spitfire. For keeping me warm with your temper and for always keeping me safe. I love you for that, and I love you for grounding me.”

When she hugged Nestor, my throat grew tight and my eyes stung—she didn’t think we were getting out of this alive. No further proof was required than this ceremony she needed to get through.

“Nestor,” she whispered, “thank you for watching over us, for being willing to watch our backs so we can be safe. I love you for that, and I love you for showing me what it is to love.”

At last, she came to Dre, and as she stared up at him, I saw, even in the dimness, the tears in her eyes. “I’ve spent more time hating you than loving you, and that’s your fault. But although your words have mostly been mean, when you made me yours, they’ve become sweeter.” She cupped his chin. “I love you for that, and I love you for opening yourself up to loving me.” She kissed him then, grabbing his hand, turned around and whispered:

“Whatever happens, you go into this knowing that I wouldn’t be here without any of you. This is our destiny, guys. We have no say in it, but I didn’t have to love you for this to happen.” She gritted her teeth. “Now, I don’t want to die, and I want you guys to die even less. I have too many plans and too many things I want to do with you, but now you know how I feel.”

Dre squeezed her fingers. “We’re going nowhere, and neither are you.”

Her smile was tight. “I think it’s time.”

I hated that she wasn’t wrong, and I hated that I wasn’t sure of the outcome.

Whatever was behind those doors?

It could mean our end, and she was right—I wasn’t ready to die. I didn’t want to tell her I loved her, I wanted to spend a lifetime showing her, and with that in mind, I focused on what would happen when we made it out of this fucking horrible place because the future was only bright if we were all in it.

TWENTY-NINE

EVE

After the harsh scraping sound of stone grinding against stone, the intense quiet that followed was enough to make my heartbeat sound loud in my ears.

All around me, I could hear my men breathing and I took comfort in that, used it to ground me as I prepared to face a situation I had no control over.

Pressing my hand to the wall, the light appeared then sputtered out. “Great,” I grumbled.

“Means we’re in the right place,” Dre whispered at my side, his body close to mine.

“I guess,” I said on a sigh.

My vision as a creature enabled me to see into the dark cave, but it wasn’t comfortable. I wanted the light like I’d never wanted anything in my life—even my men—and that was saying something.

As we hesitantly stepped farther in the darkness, I heard another scraping sound, and the flickering noise that came from fire.

I’d heard the latter enough these past few days to be wary, and the narrow tunnel we found ourselves in, all craggy walls and rough floors that I kept stubbing my toe on, suddenly opened up once more.

What I saw stunned the shit out of me.

In a million years, I never could have anticipated the large pit in the center of the cave, nor would have I envisaged the Ghoul who hovered nearby on a throne that was far too pretty for him. Gilded and bejeweled,the seat was grand enough for any king, but the beast atop it? Only knowing his name was Erlik and not Satan told me he wasn’t the devil himself.

But if he roamed the land above, no wonder Satan had come to be described as bright red with a whippet tail, horns, and a snout.

Erlik was vile, revolting, and sootherthat nausea swirled inside me.

There was a forced languor about his pose, like he was making himself look relaxed, but I knew he had to be aware of the loss of his Ghouls because there were piles of ash in here too.

The pit was the size of a small house, and it had two falls in it. One of water that gleamed black—the one that had so concerned the men as we’d been trudging down to this cavern—and another of fire that burned blue. The contrast was disconcerting, and I had to wonder why it was open that way. Did it lead to Hell? Was this truly Tamag?

“I know you’re there.”

The voice was ragged, but not from fear, but because no words should be formed by a creature like that.

“You’d have to be deaf not to have heard the door opening,” Dre, ever ebullient, called out as he stepped into the chamber.

The blue fire lit the creamy red walls with an unearthly light, and the heat in here, though combatted by the waterfall, was ungodly. Sweat beaded on my brow and dotted my lips and the small of my back. It was enough to rival a sauna, and I wasn’t sure how Erlik could stand the heat when it was this suffocating.

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