Read Online Bittersweet Seraphim by Debra Anastasia - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Debra Anastasia
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not touching that keyboard—ever. Even if I knew what the Hell it did, I’d never do you a favor, especially one that’d make it easier for you to get to me.” She slowly leaned back, hugging her body to make it more compact.
As she rested, she spared the fool a glance here and there to see if he was making progress. He wasn’t. He tried a mirror on a stick to get a better look at the device, but the hallway prevented him from putting anything between the bars. Minion after minion—scary, hideous, and beautiful, in that order—was brought to stand in the hallway and offer advice, none of which worked. Emma got the distinct impression each minion was only interested in the Hallway as a spectacle, a story to tell the others. None appeared too fond of Everett and his ranting ways or showed the least bit of desire to help.
Emma twisted a bit so she could lie on her side. She focused on the control pad. Jack had installed it, she was sure. The keys were lettered in his messy handwriting. When used, the screen now visible above the keyboard would reveal…something, but clearly it was customized to keep Emma locked in. Jack had brought this whole nightmare into being while he was clearly on the side of evil, and she’d been a distinctly angelic enemy.
Now she knew they were more alike than either could’ve imagined. The last time she’d been in this hallway, she’d been searching for God. Jack had locked Him in the last cell, forcing the Lord to sit on a cot to protect an anonymous soul. But now there was nothing to try for, no one to save. Her job now, her court-mandated time here in Hell, required her simply to exist. So Emma closed her eyes and tried to focus on that, to make it her priority. Just breathe. In and out. Exist.
Exist without love, exist without her friends. Breathe knowing both Jack and Jason had forgotten her.
Emma’s breath hitched, caught on her hopelessness.
Chapter 8
Jack exhaled as they finished interviewing yet another dead end. Violent, the escaped Minion of Sleep, seemed a bit touched in the damn head. Being on Earth’s soil for so long seemed to have twisted her mind. She remembered hints and bits of things from hundreds of years ago and acted as if they’d just happened the day before.
Jack kept flexing and closing his hands, avoiding his last few cigarettes as best he could, while Jason and Dean did their damnedest to soothe the now-scared human who had no idea what Violent was talking about. They all stood in a dark, typical suburban backyard, complete with grill and blow-up pool.
Jack flexed and closed again. A clock was ticking, and with every moment the second hand slapped him in the head, heart, and mind. He couldn’t go anywhere for her, or fight anyone, unless he could find an entrance to Hell. Considering he’d held the keys to the joint for over one thousand years, it should’ve been easier. But it didn’t work that way. Although he was currently leaning toward stealing some explosives and blowing his way home action-hero style, he knew it wasn’t just depth they needed. There was finesse involved with walking into the kingdom of the damned.
The stupid goddamn hallway—if he’d just built it a little carelessly, Emma might be able to get out on her own. She was clever enough. Of course even then she’d face the minions, beasts, and fucking Everett, the bastard keeping Jack’s throne warm until he could figure out how to be the Devil again. He rubbed his forehead hard, trying to form a clear, convincing plan. The action did nothing but relay his frustration to Seriana.
“Listen, big guy, we’ll get there. I promise we won’t give up.” She touched his arm, trying to be comforting although she was obviously still a little afraid of him. She moved as if she were touching open flame.
He put his endless brown eyes on her pretty face. “Tell me something about her. Tell me something I don’t know.” Jack wanted more of Emma, even if it was from someone
As she rested, she spared the fool a glance here and there to see if he was making progress. He wasn’t. He tried a mirror on a stick to get a better look at the device, but the hallway prevented him from putting anything between the bars. Minion after minion—scary, hideous, and beautiful, in that order—was brought to stand in the hallway and offer advice, none of which worked. Emma got the distinct impression each minion was only interested in the Hallway as a spectacle, a story to tell the others. None appeared too fond of Everett and his ranting ways or showed the least bit of desire to help.
Emma twisted a bit so she could lie on her side. She focused on the control pad. Jack had installed it, she was sure. The keys were lettered in his messy handwriting. When used, the screen now visible above the keyboard would reveal…something, but clearly it was customized to keep Emma locked in. Jack had brought this whole nightmare into being while he was clearly on the side of evil, and she’d been a distinctly angelic enemy.
Now she knew they were more alike than either could’ve imagined. The last time she’d been in this hallway, she’d been searching for God. Jack had locked Him in the last cell, forcing the Lord to sit on a cot to protect an anonymous soul. But now there was nothing to try for, no one to save. Her job now, her court-mandated time here in Hell, required her simply to exist. So Emma closed her eyes and tried to focus on that, to make it her priority. Just breathe. In and out. Exist.
Exist without love, exist without her friends. Breathe knowing both Jack and Jason had forgotten her.
Emma’s breath hitched, caught on her hopelessness.
Chapter 8
Jack exhaled as they finished interviewing yet another dead end. Violent, the escaped Minion of Sleep, seemed a bit touched in the damn head. Being on Earth’s soil for so long seemed to have twisted her mind. She remembered hints and bits of things from hundreds of years ago and acted as if they’d just happened the day before.
Jack kept flexing and closing his hands, avoiding his last few cigarettes as best he could, while Jason and Dean did their damnedest to soothe the now-scared human who had no idea what Violent was talking about. They all stood in a dark, typical suburban backyard, complete with grill and blow-up pool.
Jack flexed and closed again. A clock was ticking, and with every moment the second hand slapped him in the head, heart, and mind. He couldn’t go anywhere for her, or fight anyone, unless he could find an entrance to Hell. Considering he’d held the keys to the joint for over one thousand years, it should’ve been easier. But it didn’t work that way. Although he was currently leaning toward stealing some explosives and blowing his way home action-hero style, he knew it wasn’t just depth they needed. There was finesse involved with walking into the kingdom of the damned.
The stupid goddamn hallway—if he’d just built it a little carelessly, Emma might be able to get out on her own. She was clever enough. Of course even then she’d face the minions, beasts, and fucking Everett, the bastard keeping Jack’s throne warm until he could figure out how to be the Devil again. He rubbed his forehead hard, trying to form a clear, convincing plan. The action did nothing but relay his frustration to Seriana.
“Listen, big guy, we’ll get there. I promise we won’t give up.” She touched his arm, trying to be comforting although she was obviously still a little afraid of him. She moved as if she were touching open flame.
He put his endless brown eyes on her pretty face. “Tell me something about her. Tell me something I don’t know.” Jack wanted more of Emma, even if it was from someone
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