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He sighed. “Ask me how to get Sam’s soul back from Hell. You know, so you can make sure he goes where he’s supposed to, which I’m assuming is beyond those big pearly gates in the sky.”
Slowly, I unfolded my arms. “You know how to get Sam’s soul?”
“Yep. Though I think Roth would prefer that I didn’t tell you. Now get that look off your face that makes people think a bird just crapped on your head.”
My brows flew up. That’s how I looked?
He continued, “Roth might know a way, but I don’t think that’s where his head is right now. Honestly, I’m not sure if I even want to know where his head is at the moment.”
Unease blossomed in my belly as I inched toward the kitchen island. Cayman watched me closely. “So here’s the deal. There is one being who watches over the souls down below and only that being can release a soul. At least, most of the time. If the person is not completely dead and is hovering in the in-between, then both the Boss and the big guy in the sky get the choice of either releasing the soul or pulling it back.”
“Pulling it back?” I leaned in, placing my hands on the cool granite surface. “As in bring them back from the dead?”
He shook his head. “We don’t like to use that particular phrasing. More like pull them back from the brink of death.”
“Okay,” I murmured, but hope sparked and burned bright. I knew it was crappy of me to only be concerned about Sam’s soul when there were others who had also ended up unfairly in Hell, but I was also smart enough to realize that I wasn’t going to be able to go in there and save everyone. Or maybe I could. My spine stiffened. I could at least try. “Semantics,” I said.
“You say semantics and I say the balance of the universe.”
I stared at him a moment, and then moved on. “Can we bring back Sam since—”
“No, sweet and incredibly naive child, you cannot bring him back.” Propping his elbows on the counter, Cayman rested his chin in his hand. “Sam is dead. As in dead, dead.”
Disappointment crushed me, but there was still something to grasp onto. If we couldn’t bring Sam back, we could make sure his soul was in the right place. “How does it work? Getting a soul back and making sure it’s in the right afterlife?”
“Well, when a person dies, the Alphas decide where their soul goes. Typically the soul goes where it belongs. There is no negotiation, begging or whining. If it’s meant to go down below, that’s where it goes.” He paused. “Unless their soul is stripped away by a Lilin...or someone like you. In those instances it only goes in one direction. Sucks. Totally unfair, but that’s just the way it is.”
Someone like you.
Normally the reminder of what I was would’ve been a smack in the face, but that...that ability was a part of me. It didn’t make me evil.
Sitting back down on the stool, I picked up the OJ. “How do we get his soul back, Cayman?”
“You go to Grim.”
I felt my lips pinch. “Grim?”
Cayman grinned and said nothing.
It took a moment, but then I got it. Rocking back on the stool, I was surprised I didn’t fall right off. “Grim, as in the Grim Reaper?”
“He doesn’t like to be called that since that’s the bastardized version of his name.” Cayman spun on his bar stool, a complete circle. “You couldn’t even pronounce his real name, so let’s just go with Grim. He’s cool with that. He’s the guardian of the souls down below and he’s the only one who can release them.”
I mulled that over for a moment. “Is he nice?”
Cayman stopped midspin and threw his head back, laughing long and hard. “No, incredibly sweet and naive child, he is not. He’s as old as time and has the temperament of someone who shit the bed and has been rolling around in it all day.”
My nose wrinkled. “Ew.”
“On the plus side, it’s actually pretty simple to get down to the fiery pits in the first place. You just take one of the elevators in the Palisades,” he continued, referencing the apartment building Roth normally lived in, which also housed a demonic club. “But you can’t take Roth with you. The Boss is still pissed, and so are some of the other Upper Level demons. They get their hands on him, they are going to delay him.”
“So...so I’d have to go alone?” A shiver danced down my spine. “To Hell?”
“Most likely. I’d go with you, but... Yeah, I really don’t want to talk to Grim.”
“Your support means the world to me,” I muttered, and then took a drink of the OJ. “All of this seems too easy. I just take an elevator down to Grim and ask for Sam’s soul?”
Cayman laughed again. “I’m beginning to think your darling naïvete is actually adorable idiocy. You’re like the cute version of the village idiot.”
“Wow.” I scowled. “You really know how to stroke a girl’s ego.”
He spun on the stool again and the butterfly clip slipped in his hair. “What can I say? Guys are more my field of expertise. But back to the topic at hand—no, getting Sam’s soul won’t be as easy as you make it sound, but lucky for you, you’ll have some time to plan your strategy. Grim isn’t down below right now. He’s...off, kind of like vacationing.”
“The Grim Reaper vacations?” Disbelief dripped from my voice.
“If you’d been doing a job for two thousand-plus years, you’d need a vacation, too.” His knees knocked into mine. “Okay. He’s not really vacationing, but he is someplace much more pleasant than the pits at the moment. He pulls double occupancy.”
“What does that mean? And don’t call me an idiot again. I’m not familiar with all your demon lingo.”
Cayman glanced up at the ceiling and then down to the floor. “You get it?”
“He’s up there?” I pointed at the ceiling. “And down below, too? He goes both places?”
“Of course. He’s the Grim Reaper, which means he’s actually a— Oh, it’s like a game of Taboo. I’ll give you examples and you guess what he really is.” Cayman clapped his hands together like a seal. “He has wings and—”
“An angel.” I cut him off. “He’s an angel.”
Cayman’s expression fell. “You’re no fun.”
I didn’t know a lot about all the different kinds of angels, but I was guessing Grim was actually an angel of death, maybe the original one, so I supposed it made sense that he divided his time between Heaven and Hell. Honestly, I didn’t even care. What was important was that there was something we could do for Sam, and maybe if I was lucky, for all those the Lilin had sentenced to Hell.
“He’s back soon, next Friday our time.” Cayman leaned over, tweaked my nose, and then laughed when I smacked his hand away. “Because that’s your only option, going down there. You ain’t going up there.”
Well, duh. But Friday was six long days away. I swallowed hard. “I don’t know if I can wait that long. Sam’s soul...”
“You don’t have a choice, Layla.” The playfulness slipped away. “No one else can release his soul but Grim, and there is no way for you to enter the heavens to talk to him. None whatsoever, especially now.”
My ears perked. “Especially now? How is today any different than yesterday? I never thought I could enter Heaven before—wait. Do you know something about my wings, why they’re feathered?”
His lips twitched. “You say feathered like it’s a bad hairstyle. Then again, feathered hair is really bad.”
“Cayman,” I griped, losing my patience.
“Why worry about your awesomely superior wings when you have a Lilin who’s going to quickly realize that there is no way in holy Hell that Lilith will be getting free and that’s no joke. The Boss has her on lockdown. She’s going nowhere, my little frosted cupcake.”
My lips pursed. His terms of endearment were less than endearing.
“And what do you think that Lilin is going to do when it realizes mommy dearest is not getting free and there’s nothing that it can do?” He raised his arms and wiggled his fingers. Total jazz hands. “Chaos will ensue, and what do you think will happen when chaos ensues? The Alphas will step in, and there will be so many of them that Thumper would get an upset stomach trying to eat them all. We don’t want that. For realsies.”
I opened my mouth.
“And why worry about your sleek-ass feathered wings when you have an entire clan of Wardens who just found out in the last twenty-four hours that you’re really not dead? Because trust me, they know. Zayne wouldn’t have to tell them. The Alphas would have. Some aren’t gonna be happy about your survival. Oh no, sugar bear. Then there’s the whole witch thing, and don’t even ask me what they wanted in return for saving your butt, because I am not gonna be the bearer of that bad news bears.”
I snapped my mouth shut. Goodie gumdrops, I was really starting to feel super stressed out.
He wasn’t done. “And why stress over wings in general when you’re going to break someone’s heart?”
“What?” I snapped.
Cayman popped off the bar stool, all grins. “Let’s stop playing around, my own personal Beanie Baby. Zayne’s in love with you. Roth’s in love with you.”
I inhaled sharply, but the air caught in my throat.
“Both would do anything for you—live, breathe and die for you, but you can’t have both of them, Layla.”
My hands fell to my thighs and I whispered, “I know that.”
“And you know which one is the real deal,” he continued, eyeing me intently. “You know, the forever kind of love, so why are you dragging this shit out?”
“I’m not dragging anything out,” I protested. “I was kind of out of it, you know, what with the whole being held prisoner and then nearly killed by my own clan thing. Then I was holed up here recovering, and then yesterday happened.” Frustrated, I jumped off the stool and stalked around the island. “And maybe I don’t think it’s the right time for me to be with either of them. Did you ever think about that?”
Cayman cocked his head to the side. “When is there ever a right time to fully give your heart to another? There are always going to be obstacles. You just have to decide which ones are worth it.”
“Whatever.” I crossed my arms.
He mimicked my stance. “Don’t be a coward.”
“Excuse me?”
“A. Coward,” he repeated, and I briefly considered picking up the vase in the center of the island and throwing it at him. “Not making a choice is the coward’s way out. You love both of them. I get that. But you don’t feel the same kind of love for both of them, and the sooner you accept that, the better.”
“Why are we talking about this again? And why do you even care?”
Cayman smiled. “Because I’m a caring sort of demon.”
“Ugh,” I groaned, throwing up my hands as frustration and panic fought their way through me. Cayman made it sound so easy, like I wasn’t going to lose one of them, but I was. Call me selfish, but the idea of not having both of them in my life terrified me. “You can be so annoying.”
“Don’t hate,” he said, grinning. “Procreate.”
Now I just glared at him.
“Procreate with the right guy,” he added. “Just wanted to clarify that.”
“Oh my God,” I moaned, leaning over and placing my forehead on the counter.
I stayed like that even after I felt Cayman exit the room—and probably the entire house, because after a few moments, I didn’t sense a demon.
The granite countertop really was cool and smooth, and felt good against my flushed face. Maybe I’d stay like this all day. Sounded like a plan. Better than...
No, not better than listening to what Cayman had said about Zayne and Roth. He was right. Oh God, he was so creepily right. I did love both guys. I really did, and the idea of hurting one of them or losing one of them made me want to hurl, but Cayman was also right about a few more things.
I couldn’t have both of them.
And what I felt for them was different.
There was no hiding that. It had always been that way. Both made me happy. Both made me laugh. Both filled me with longing and made my girlie parts all kinds of happy. But only one really made me...
Well, there was only one that I knew I would always be happy with, one that I would always laugh with. One that I did more than long for, but yearned for, and each second that passed ignoring it was a second I wouldn’t get to spend with him—a second I wouldn’t live life with love in it, real love in it, the kind that did have lasting power.
Despite what Cayman said, I wasn’t sure that both of them were truly in love with me. I wasn’t in their heads, but the way they felt didn’t matter when it came down to it. It was how I felt, and I wouldn’t settle. I also didn’t expect them to settle.
My forehead was starting to stick to the granite.
For the first time in days, I let myself really think about Roth’s words, the ones I thought I’d hallucinated before I had passed out from my wounds and whatever the witches had given me.
I love you, Layla. I’ve loved you since the first moment I heard your voice and I will continue to love you. No matter what. I love you.
Roth had pretty much confirmed that I had in fact heard those words spoken with such sweet urgency, but there was this part of me that just couldn’t believe it. Or maybe I didn’t want to, because when I thought about what Roth said, I also remembered what Zayne had said when he’d seen me standing in Stacey’s living room.
I would know if a part of my heart was gone.
My entire being felt like it was squeezed to the point of pain. There were all the secrets that Zayne had told me, how he had waited...for me. Still, I had spent years wanting him and it never seemed possible that I would ever have him.
Maybe I was just scared out of my mind to finally—
Lost in my own thoughts, I didn’t recognize the awareness that seeped into my skin, alerting me to another presence in the house until a deep voice rumbled throughout the kitchen.
“What in the world are you doing, Shortie?”
Jerking back, I lifted my head as I pressed my palm against my chest. Heart pounding, I watched Roth walk toward the island and stop. He was dressed much like he had been last night, except he was wearing a white thermal today that really complemented the golden hue of his skin.
“I was... I was thinking,” I said, smoothing my hands over my hair. “Thinking about stuff.”
He propped a hip against the island. “Was the countertop helping you think about stuff?”
I pressed my lips together. “Maybe.”
Roth’s gaze dipped, and then slowly slid back up to my face. There was a pleased heat in his gaze that wrought a very different kind of shiver out of me. “That’s an odd way to do some thinking, Shortie.”
“Yeah, I know. Cayman...um, he made breakfast.” Toying with my hair, I wrapped the edges around my fingers as Roth started walking again. He was coming closer to me. “And got me a phone.”
“I told him to get the phone for you,” he replied, his tawny eyes aglow. “The breakfast, though, was nice of him. All his idea.”
“It was nice.” My heart had not slowed down, and it didn’t help when he got closer still. “Where have you been?”
He stopped in front of me. “Checked out Sam’s house. Thought it would be a good idea.” Reaching between us, he got his fingers in between mine and tugged them away from my hair. “It’s not good news.”
“It’s not?”
