To Hell and Back Read online

  “Sorry,” she muttered as Cale nailed her with another dark look. She knew in that instant he didn’t trust her. Not wholly. “But I really gotta go.”

  She didn’t like the way he stared at her—as if he could see into her soul—see the lie.

  “Don’t take long, because you can sure as hell bet there’s a truckload of filth hot on our tail, and the only sanctuary you have is The Pines.”

  Kira swallowed. I don’t think so, buddy.

  She nodded and blushed when she realized both men were staring at the gaping T-shirt beneath her jacket. Quickly she zipped up, her gaze skipping beyond them to the semis idling in the distance. Flashing lights twirled into the night, shooting out red and blue, and for a second she was confused, but then she realized a police vehicle was parked beside one of the trucks. Its lights cast shadows into the darkness and there were several more police vehicles nearby. It looked to Kira as if something had gone down and they were doing cleanup.

  Priest jumped from the truck, and at first she thought he was going to follow her into the service center, but he leaned against his door and withdrew a cigar. He sniffed the end, glanced around, and turned in a full circle.

  “Okay, we’re all clear. No demon stink to ruin my Montecristo.”

  Cale said nothing.

  “I … I’m going to grab some takeout. You guys want anything?” Kira said hesitantly.

  Priest shook his head. “Don’t worry, we’ve got your back, but if I was you, I wouldn’t take too long.” He lit his cigar and took a puff. “Circumstance changes quickly.”

  Kira nodded, and with one more glance at the still silent Cale she headed into the truck stop.

  The night was crisp and a blast of heat greeted her as she pushed her way inside the well-lit truck stop. Grease mingled with unwashed body odor made her stomach roil, but she took a few steps, her gaze moving over the entire area in a precise pattern just as Logan had taught her. Within seconds she had the layout. She knew that the washrooms were to her right, that there were seven truckers in line waiting for coffee, as well as three full tables near the window. Vending machines lined the wall to her left and beyond that was an exit that led to the rear of the building.

  Chest heaving, she took a few more steps, mind racing, adrenaline pulsing in her veins. She was a bit lightheaded and exhaled softly, taking a moment to gather her wits and her thoughts.

  The two men in the rear booth eyed her with interest, but she passed over them and focused on an orange wall phone. It was a direct line to the local taxi service. She started toward it but paused when she realized that not only could Cale and Priest see her inside the brightly lit service center, but just because she got hold of a taxi didn’t mean one would appear within the next few minutes.

  Kira turned on a dime and disappeared inside the ladies’ restroom, grateful to find it empty. She splashed cold water on her face and stared at a reflection that while familiar was still surprising to her.

  Her face was fuller, her cheeks redder—healthier—and her skin glowed. In a few weeks she’d gone from being a shut-in mental patient who’d not seen the sun in weeks or months even, to a dead body on a slab in the morgue. She’d traveled to the gray realm and won. Now she was here, back in the human realm, very much alive and determined to stay so.

  Kira licked her lips, tucked a strand of hair behind her ears, and stepped away from the sink. She fingered the dagger in the front of her jeans and made sure it wasn’t visible. She knew what she had to do.

  She turned abruptly and left the washroom, but instead of heading back the way she’d come, she jogged out the back exit. Her chest was tight as she burst into the night and she took off at a full run, her gaze focused on the still-flashing lights.

  By the time she reached the police vehicles she was out of breath, and the stitch in her side was painful. She didn’t stop. Didn’t take a moment to reconsider her actions. She just did what Logan had asked her to do.

  “Officer!” she cried, stumbling over the large ruts that the tractor-trailers had worn into the pavement. She waved her hands in the air like a crazy person. “Please help me!”

  A lanky officer jogged toward her with his gun drawn and she tripped once more, letting him catch her as she shuddered against his chest.

  “Please help me,” she begged. “They won’t let me go. They’ll come for me again.”

  The officer motioned to the others behind him. “What’s going on, Miss? Who won’t let you go?”

  Tears seeped from her eyes and her voice trembled as she gazed up at him, all the fear and despair she could muster shadowed in her eyes. It wasn’t hard to do—Kira was scared out of her tree. “The two men who took me. I was at a party and they gave me a lift, but that was two hours ago. The only reason they stopped here was because I—” She swallowed and shook her head. “Well, I had to go to the bathroom.” She tugged on his arm. “But they’ll come for me when I don’t come out and they’re going to—” She shuddered once more and collapsed in his arms.

  “They’ve taken you by force?” the officer asked.

  “I only wanted a ride home.” She sniffled and nodded. “But they wouldn’t let me out. I’m so afraid. Please.”

  The officer nodded to his partner and the others. “Seems we’ve got a kidnap situation.” Gently he disengaged himself, his eyes kind but his demeanor focused. “Where are they? Are they armed?”

  Kira hoped like hell none of these nice men would get hurt, but at the moment she could think of no other way to escape Priest and Cale.

  “They’re driving a large black SUV, the one parked beside the red pickup truck. They’re wearing leather and the one guy is smoking a cigar out near the front of the service center.” She paused. “They’re dangerous and … I’m so sorry, but probably armed.”

  The officer nodded. “Okay, I want you to stay here. Are you going to be all right if we leave you?” He nodded to his squad car. “You can sit in there if you like.”

  They moved away as she nodded and took a step toward the police car. “Thank you so much, and please,” she whispered hoarsely, “please be careful.”

  God, you have no idea what they are.

  She watched as the officer and six others disappeared behind several trucks parked near the building.

  Kira didn’t hesitate. She turned and sprinted toward a large semi pulling away from the pumps, heading back toward the highway.

  She ran alongside the driver, waving furiously, and for a moment was scared he wouldn’t stop. But eventually he noticed her and the big rig slowed to a crawl. The driver lowered his window and stared down at her, frowning.

  “Yeah?”

  “I need a lift back to …” Her mind went blank, and Kira realized she had no clue where the hell she was. “Ah, I need to get to Hill Valley.”

  The trucker, an older man with what she hoped was a kind face, regarded her for a few moments. “How old are you?”

  “Twenty-five.”

  “You’re not one of those, ah, women—”

  She interrupted before he could go further. “No, oh my God, no, I’m not a—I just—” Think! “My boyfriend and I got into a fight and he left me here. My purse is still in his car and …” The lies were coming easier, and Kira hoped she looked as pathetic as she sounded.

  “Okay,” the man said with a nod. “I can take you as far as Hagerstown but that’s the best I can do.”

  “Thank you.” Kira ran around the truck to the passenger side and climbed aboard.

  Once settled, the two of them headed out into the night, and she closed her eyes tightly. She didn’t want to watch as all hell broke loose in the parking lot of the Last Chance Truck Stop.

  Chapter Nine

  * * *

  “CLOTHE HIM!” SANTOS snarled, his eyes red with fire.

  Lilith shrugged. She sighed and turned to Logan. With a flick of her wrist, his broken, battered body was once more dressed in denim, boots, and a T-shirt that had seen better days.

  “M
y jacket?” Logan uttered softly.

  Lilith’s eyes glittered and her lips thinned, but she motioned once more and his jacket appeared at his feet.

  Logan wasn’t exactly sure what was happening. The man had let him suffer in the pit for hundreds of years, so why the doting father all of a sudden?

  Don’t be an idiot.

  This wasn’t about Logan and any suffering he might incur at the hands of Lilith. No, this was about power. This was about his father pissing all over his territory—marking it—and sadly Logan belonged to him.

  At this point he wasn’t sure what was the better option: taking his chances with Lilith or leaving with his father. Either way he needed to find his way out of District Three.

  Anxiety roiled inside him and his chest tightened. Had Kira managed to get away from the League members sent for them? Was she on her way to Hill Valley? Or on her way to The Pines and an uncertain future?

  Logan’s father glanced around the room until his eyes settled on the tangled and bloody sheets that covered Lilith’s bed. His nostrils flared. He glanced at his son and then swung back to Lilith, a smile breaking his cold features. It was one that never reached his eyes.

  “He refused you.”

  Lilith walked toward Logan and ignored his father’s comment. She ran her hand across Logan’s chest, pushing there where his wounds still oozed blood. Within seconds his T-shirt was stained. She dug her finger into his flesh until Logan glanced down at her. Until his hatred shone through. His contempt. His utter lack of respect.

  Something flickered in the depths of her eyes. She leaned forward, rested her lips against his ear, and whispered, “I will break you.”

  Still naked, Lilith then straightened and stepped away from him. She paused, tossed a lock of golden hair behind her shoulder, and turned to his father.

  “Your son was in the gray realm.”

  Logan’s father didn’t say a word.

  “I’m assuming it wasn’t sanctioned.” Lilith stared at her fingers. “At least not by you, because we all know that hellhounds don’t belong in the gray realm.” She waved away a pesky fly, eyes narrow, lips shiny where she’d licked them. “Or was it?”

  Logan watched the power play with veiled dislike. The two of them were similar enough that it would have proved entertaining if he didn’t need to get the hell out of Hell. Pronto.

  “Logan answers to me. He does not do unsanctioned runs,” Santos said haughtily.

  Lilith squared her shoulders. “I beg to differ. Ask him yourself.”

  Overlord Santos walked toward Logan, his eyes blood red, his fists clenched hard at his sides. “Is this true?”

  Logan eyed his father coldly. He hated lies. Hated what they did to a person. Lies made you weak, but in this instance …

  “No,” he said softly. “It’s not true.” He glanced to Lilith and sneered. “The bitch is using rumors as an excuse to get me into her bed. She’s bored and pissed off that I’m not sniffing between her legs like a dog.”

  Lilith’s eyes narrowed.

  “I’m loyal to you,” Logan said to his father. What was one more lie piled on top of another?

  “Prove it,” Lilith whispered. Something about the tone of her voice put Logan on alert. Her heart beat rapidly, her eyes glittered strangely and—he was disgusted—she was fully aroused. He’d never met another demon—male or female—who got off on pain and torture the way she did. Not even Lucifer’s appetites compared.

  “I’ve nothing to prove to you,” Logan said harshly as he bared his teeth and took a step toward her.

  “Prove it to me,” Santos interjected.

  Logan’s gaze swung back to his father. He didn’t like this one bit, but there was no choice. He was cornered. “Anything, my lord.”

  Overlord Santos whipped out a cell phone and spoke so quietly neither Logan nor Lilith could hear his words. Within moments, Lilith’s doors flew open once more and Kraghten, one of his father’s hellhounds, appeared, a sobbing child in his arms.

  Kraghten didn’t say a word, but set the child down on the floor between them and disappeared immediately.

  Logan had a bad feeling about this, made doubly so as Lilith clapped her hands and nodded, eyes wide, face flushed with enjoyment.

  “Yes.” She nodded. “A true test, my friend.”

  “I’m not your friend,” Overlord Santos growled.

  The child was dressed in pajamas adorned with trains, planes, and cars. He looked to be about five or six, with blond hair that curled crazily around his face as if he was just from his bed. Tears filled eyes the color of gunmetal; they were huge in his small, pinched face. In his hand he clutched a teddy bear, which was missing both an ear and an eye. It looked much loved and well worn, and the child tucked it tight against his chest as uncontrolled sobs wracked his small, thin frame.

  “What the fuck is this?” Logan exploded,

  Fear fell off the poor thing in waves, and Logan noticed that his pajamas were wet. The child was terrified, and he should be.

  Santos was silent, his expression unreadable.

  “What kind of game involves a small human child?” Logan asked scornfully.

  “Why, the kind that entertains,” Lilith replied. “The kind that thrills and pulls at your heartstrings. A winning combination, in my opinion.” She laughed, a tinkling sound that was slightly off-key. “Isn’t that true, Overlord Santos?”

  Logan tried not to think of another time. Another child. Kira. He pushed all of that away and turned to his father. “I don’t play games.”

  Overlord Santos never took his eyes from the child in front of them. “You will play this one.”

  Logan took a step forward, while beneath his skin, his beast shifted. Fire churned in his veins. It fed the power inside him and it took everything he had to keep the hellhound at bay. He couldn’t fuck this up. As much as he wanted nothing more than to smash his fist into his father’s face, he had to keep his cool.

  The child’s whimpers became louder and each time one fell from his mouth, Lilith mimicked the noise, which only served to increase the tension in the room tenfold.

  Logan refused to look at the child. He couldn’t. His father had never forgiven him for taking Kira back out of Hell all those years ago, when she’d been a child not much older than this one. Santos had been looking for a way to break him, and now it had been handed to him on a silver platter. All thanks to Lilith.

  Overlord Santos would ask him to do something awful. Something so reprehensible that it would haunt Logan forever. He knew this.

  Yet, sadly, he would play whatever game was asked of him.

  Because he had to.

  “Why is he here?” Logan asked harshly, moving until his body was between both his father and Lilith and the young boy.

  Santos shrugged. “Because I wished it.”

  Logan nodded to the child. “This is a sanctioned run?”

  Again, Santos nodded, but Logan had the feeling something else was at play.

  “On whose authority?”

  His father took a step forward, anger filling his features. “You would question me?”

  Logan had a moment to choose sides. A moment to make sure he did the right thing. But down here the right thing was complicated. The right thing wouldn’t get him back to Kira. Even though everything inside him screamed to take the child and do whatever it took to get to a portal, he unclenched his hands and stepped back.

  He stepped down. Anguished, his body trembled, his heart pounding rapidly.

  Something tugged on his jeans and he glanced down. “I want,” the young boy gulped, “I want my mommy.”

  Logan’s moment came and went. He couldn’t do it. Couldn’t do what they were asking of him. He couldn’t play the game.

  “This child has been sentenced to District Three? On what grounds?” he ground out, ignoring Lilith as he faced his father.

  Santos folded his arms over his chest, his face cold, eyes dead. “You don’t get to ask those questions, b
oy.”

  Logan’s chest rumbled. The beast scratched beneath the surface and it took every ounce of his control to keep himself in human form. His father had always hated Logan. Always. He’d been born of brimstone and fire, yes, but he was also light and magick. Logan was not from the same bloodline as his brothers.

  His mother was not from the Hell realm and Logan was not a child born of love. He was a child born of lust, of illicit desires and unquenchable need. All of it one-sided, of course. Sadly, Logan Winters was a child born of rape.

  His mother had kept his existence secret for the first twenty years of his life. Not only for his own protection but for hers as well. As princess of the in-between worlds, she would have lost everything if it had become common knowledge that she’d given birth to a child of darkness. Logan would have been killed within moments of his birth and his mother would have had the fight of her life. There were those who would use such information to destroy her. There were those who would use the life of her child as a weapon against her.

  Her royal line would have been broken and she never would have been able to claim her birthright. Queen of the in-between world.

  So she’d kept him at her Winter Palace. She’d loved him. She’d nurtured him until he had matured. Until he’d shifted that first time and had become something so volatile and unpredictable that not even her power could hold him at bay. Afraid her kind would hunt him down and kill him, she’d surrendered him to his father, and Logan had hated her for it for hundreds of years. It had taken that long for him to realize that he couldn’t exist in her world. The darkness inside him was too strong. There was nothing to counter it. His mother had had no choice.

  Until now. Kira and his unborn child were his anchor.

  The little boy began to sob uncontrollably, and something so fierce arose inside Logan that for a moment he couldn’t speak. He glared at his father. He felt the beast shift beneath his body, setting every cell on fire, and in that moment, he knew what he had to do. He would not sacrifice an innocent, not for the perverted power play going on here. Not for his father.