I get within a few feet of the King of Hell when my body slams into what feels like a brick wall. It’s some kind of force field, keeping the past away from the present. My back teeth lock. All I’ve accomplished is to give myself a better view of Armageddon’s gloating smile and Xavier’s overwhelming agony.
“Ah, I remember those wings.” Armageddon chuckles. “You showed them when you rallied the angels and drove my army from Heaven.” The King of Hell rounds on Mom. “Does it pain you to watch me hurt him?”
Mom glares at Armageddon, her arms folded over her chest.
I press my palms against the invisible wall. Every cell in my body wants to break through and stand beside her. Stay strong, Mom.
The King of Hell twists Xavier’s broken arm. The archangel sucks in a breath, gritting his teeth. Mom’s eyes slowly bead with tears. Mine do, too.
“It does pain you.” Armageddon’s mouth bends into an impossibly-large smile. “Good. Because I’ll be doing this for all eternity. Whenever you think of the Senate or your murdered family or sewing one of those silly robes, I want you think of Xavier and how I’m torturing him at that exact moment. Just for you.”
I slam my fists into the force field; it doesn’t budge. I need to kill Armageddon, save Xavier, and help my mom. Let me in!
Mom’s shoulders slump, worry lines appear around eyes. I notice a few gray hairs I hadn’t seen before.
I freeze in place, unable to do anything but watch her sorrow beyond the invisible barrier. Mom steps back, leaning against the outer wall of the house for support. She sets her hand on her rib cage and I can almost hear her heart crack with grief. This is when the weepy, over-worrying version of my mother came to be. I’m so sorry, Mom. I never dreamed this is what happened. I understand now.
Armageddon waves his long and bony hand. “Goodbye, seamstress.” He and Xavier disappear. For a moment, Mom stands still on the front stoop, and then she crumples onto the concrete landing, her shoulders heaving with sobs.
Mom’s body turns back into sand before dissolving into the desert floor. The rest of the scene does the same. The dreamscape ends. Somehow, I know this is the last one.
For what feels like eons, I stare at the Gray Sea, watching the rolling dunes of charcoal-colored sand touch a blue and gray sky. The wind howls through me; sulphur chokes my lungs. I could care less.
One thought keeps churning through my mind: at this moment, somewhere in Hell, Xavier’s being tortured. All because he saved my mother’s life; my life too. Even though I’m deep asleep, I know my face streams with tears.
Chapter Twenty-One
I wake up to the electronic howl of my alarm clock. Bit by bit, I open my eyes and stretch. My pillow’s damp against my cheek. That was one hell of a dreamscape. How do I even begin to talk to Mom about this?
My backpack’s propped against my bedroom wall. I stare at it for a moment. This chat should wait until after school, for both our sakes. I take a deep breath, throw on some sweats and walk into the kitchen. Mom sits at the table, a steaming mug of coffee in her hands. Her mouth is a thin line.
I forgot. I’m in deep trouble.
“Good morning.” I speed across the room and pretend to be super-interested in the cabinet on the opposite wall.
Mom’s fingernails tap her porcelain mug. “What happened to you last night? This had better be good.”
I remember Lincoln’s kisses and smile. It was ‘wake up your lust demon’ good.
“Like I said last night, Cissy and I went to a party.” I move cereal boxes back and forth on a shelf. “It was at the Ryder mansion. Things ran late. I didn’t want you to worry, so I didn’t tell you everything about it.” I cross my fingers and set them on my belly. Please let her move on without asking the obvious question.
“And what exactly didn’t you mention?” My shoulders slump. She asked the obvious question.
I start organizing the cereal boxes in alphabetical order, careful to keep my back toward my mother. If she sees my super-guilty face, I’m done for. I steel my shoulders. “Cissy and Zeke were the only other quasis there.”
Mom gasps. “So, who was at the Ryder mansion?”
My face screws up into the mutha of all winces. “Thrax.” Here it comes.
A thunk sounds as Mom slams her coffee cup onto the table. “Not that thrax boy you met at Zeke’s some months back?” What a memory she has. She must keep a list of every angel and thrax I’ve ever laid eyes on. “Did he touch you?”
I can’t help but smile. “We kind of touched each other, Mom. And it was Prince Lincoln. He’s the same boy I met at Zeke’s party.”
“Noooo!”
Mom’s scream rattles my spine. I grip a box of cereal so hard, some of it spills onto the counter. I force myself to breathe slowly. Remember what she’s been through, Myla. My voice comes out calm and level. “Verus showed me why you worry, Mom. I know you’re scared someone will drag me off like Armageddon did to Xavier. But Lincoln would never do anything like that.”
Mom’s voice is raw and low. “Verus told you NOTHING.” She rushes over and grips my arm, spinning me about.