Inescapable (The Premonition Series) (41 page)

I don’t get far. Freddie’s hand on my shoulder lifts me up, dangling me above the ground before him. Rage twists his face as he sneers at me, before throwing me effortlessly backward into the glass door of a refrigerator at the back of the store. Something in one of my wings snaps on impact while the glass cracks like a spider’s web. Sliding to the floor in a heap, I lie there for a moment, entirely still, until my lungs decompress. Wheezing out a cough, I try desperately to get air back into me.

Walking in front of my line of sight, Freddie squats down, bringing his face to where my cheek rests against the floor. “You know,” he growls, “I think I’ve changed my mind, Evie. I think I’ll just go ahead and kill Russell, and then I’ll beat the soul out of you. You’ll give it to me if you’re in enough pain. It really doesn’t matter to me how I get it,” he says as his wings buzz in agitation.

I want to beg him not to hurt us, but all I can do is groan. Grasping me by the arm, he drags me effortlessly across the floor, back toward the coffee machines where Russell is. My body leaves a clean path on the floor, mopping up all of the debris as he sweeps me over it.

Coming to rest right next to Russell’s body, Freddie drops my arm, and it sprawls out limply. I can’t move yet to see Russell next to me, so I watch Gaspard in front of me; he is extremely agitated. He has sprouted dove-gray wings; they’re long and powerful. He is pacing the floor with supernatural speed, and every now and then, he pauses to run his hand through his black hair. He seems like he is torn about something. Maybe he is afraid there isn’t going to be much of me left to play with once Freddie is done with me.
Maybe that’s a good thing,
I think to myself.

Walking over to the counter by the cash register, Freddie picks up a velvet cloth lying on it. The cloth contains several tools and a few knives. Selecting a thin, sharp knife with a bone-colored handle, he throws the rest aside. Stepping between my body and Russell’s body, Freddie crouches down, showing me the blade of the knife in his hand. Putting his finger to his lips, he giggles before his face twists in a sneer. Then, he turns the knife, plunging it into Russell’s thigh.

All of the blood drains from my face, and tears brighten my eyes as a hoarse scream tears from Russell’s throat. “No, Freddie,
stop!
I’ll do anything you want, I’ll give you anything you want.. just stop, please…stop,” I beg him in a wheeze.

“Oh, I know you will. This is just for fun,” he says, pulling the knife out of Russell’s thigh and wiping the blade on my silk top.

“Son of a…Lord, that sucks! I’m gonna kill ya, Freddie! I promise ya, I will kill ya. I’m gonna squash ya like the bug ya are,” Russell shouts and then groans, writhing in pain next to me. Turning over towards Russell, I can only imagine what a shock it will be to him to see me. I am covered in blood and my red wings are exposed. When Russell notices me, he freezes and all of the blood drains from his face. “Ahh shoot, Red, what are ya
doin
’ here?” he yells at me, holding his thigh. Then, closing his eyes, he says, “I told ya to leave. I told ya to go and to never come back. I wanted to save ya! I didn’t save ya!” Balling his hands in fists, he brings them to his forehead.

“Russell, what? No…you’ve got it wrong! Freddie is here for me. He wants something I have,” I say, searching his face. “He’s going to let you go when I give it to him, aren’t you, Freddie.”

Freddie’s smile is angelic as he says, “That’s right, Evie. Just give it to me and Russell can go.”

Russell pulls his fists from his eyes. “What’s he want, Red?” Russell asks between panting breaths, trying to control the pain in his leg. He is looking at me now like he is seeing me for the first time, which makes sense, since he has never seen my wings before this moment.

I am cognizant enough to realize that this is the last moment I will ever get to spend with Russell. This is the image of me that he will carry with him for the rest of his life. “Nothing that I’m not willing to give him, right, Freddie?” I say in a soft tone, making sure that Freddie knows I am going to go along with his plan, so that he won’t continue to hurt Russell. “I just want to make sure that Freddie will honor his part of the bargain, when I give him what he wants.”

Russell’s expression turns desperate as he asks, “Red, what does he want?” I don’t answer him. Finding his hand, I hold it in mine.

Freddie frowns, saying, “Evie, you ought to tell him, since it involves him. You see, Russell, Evie is the most extraordinary being we’ve ever seen. She’s an angel who possesses a human soul—a half-breed. She said she’ll give me her soul if I agree not to kill her soul mate, which is you. She can be assured that I won’t be able to kill you after she gives me her soul because I will have to try really hard not to sin so I can get back into Paradise. But, the really interesting part comes after I take her soul from her. Will we, then, be soul mates, you and I? I hope so! I can’t wait to bump into you in your next life. Won’t that be fun?”

“Red, if y’all give yer soul to that devil, I’ll never forgive ya! Never! I’d rather die now than be saddled with him forever,” Russell spits out. “Ya make me attracted to him and…ugh… don’t ya do it,” he pleads with me.

“Shh, Russell, it will be okay. I’m positive that you’ll never be attracted to Freddie, since he’s a sadistic creep. He’ll mess up sooner or later, and then he’ll be sent back to Sheol. You’ll be okay,” I reason in a soothing tone.

“What happens to her if she gives ya her soul?” Russell asks Freddie in despair.

Freddie’s brow wrinkles. “I don’t know for sure, but I think she’ll hang around for a while, waiting, as her body dies slowly, and then she’ll probably go into the dark alone. I suspect that Gaspard will hasten the darkness, since he’s
super
violent,” Freddie says, sounding giddy as he explains. He is getting what he wants, and it is making him euphoric. Gaspard, showing relief over this pronouncement, slows his pacing to grin in delight.

“Red, c’mon…y’all can’t do this. It’s wrong and ya know it!” he pleads with me. “What am I gonna do here without ya anyway? Ya can’t do it, ya just can’t!”

“I can’t watch him kill you, Russell. You have to live,” I say, squeezing his hand in mine when I see the pain and fear in his brown eyes.

Russell’s voice cracks as he says, “I can’t watch ya die either…”

Freddie snarls in disgust next to us. “Okay, this is making me want to puke. I’m ready for my soul now. Just don’t resist me, and I’ll take care of the rest,” Freddie says, gripping the handle of the knife and straddling my thighs so that I can’t move beneath him.

Freddie speaks in Angel; his voice is so musical that it’s calming me, lulling me as I stare up at him. Closing his eyes, he concentrates hard, making arching symbols in the air with his knife. A pulling sensation erupts in the core of my body when he draws the knife over me, inches from my flesh. As his knife passes downward again, my eyes widen, and a harrowing gasp comes from me. Clutching my chest, I attempt to hold myself together, while something tears inside of me. But it is no use; I am ripping apart from the inside out.

“Alfred, you stupid, evil parasite! Get off of Evie before I knock your nasty head off of your shoulders!” Brownie calls from the doorway of the store. Inching in the door, Brownie growls as she sizes up Gaspard, who has stilled his pacing and is crouching to attack.

“Sweetie, you can’t give Alfred your soul; he will ruin Paradise,” Buns chimes in, coming to stand next to Brownie. With her eyes never leaving Gaspard, she hands something to Brownie; it is a stick that resembles field hockey equipment, but it is crafted of shiny gold metal with a deadly blade curving wickedly at the end.

I’m not sure if I gasped from the pain in my chest or from the shock of seeing Brownie and Buns with butterfly wings. Buns looks just like a faerie; she has delicate-looking, golden butterfly wings that shimmer in the florescent lighting. Brownie’s wings are more bronze with bold, russet accents. Their wings float effortlessly as their eyes hone in on Gaspard in front of them.

Momentarily distracted from his task, Freddie loses some focus, allowing me to breathe again. Swallowing deep, heavy gulps of air, I crane my neck to better see what is happening. The girls are fanning out, both eyeing Gaspard, looking for a weakness in his defenses. I notice their subtle signal to each other just before they attack Gaspard in synchronization.

Seeing that the girls have distracted Freddie, Russell wastes no time. He sits up quickly; pulling his arm back, he punches Freddie in the face using all of his strength. Freddie hardly moves at all when Russell hits him, proving to us both just how much of an angel Freddie really is. Scowling blackly at Russell for just an instant, Freddie takes his bony knife and plunges it into Russell’s chest; it makes a sickening, sucking sound as he twists it a couple of times before pulling it back out. Russell’s blood instantly gushes from the wound, wetting his shirt in a ring of scarlet.

“Ouch,” Freddie chuckles, watching Russell with amusement.

Russell puts one hand to his chest briefly, looking down at the gaping hole that Freddie’s knife had made, and then he slumps back on one elbow. He can’t hold himself up for long. Collapsing to the floor, he lies staring at the ceiling, panting in pain and shock. Horror and rage spur me, and I sit up instantly, grabbing the knife from Freddie’s hand. Turning the handle of the wicked-sharp blade, I plunge it into Freddie’s side, knocking him back off of me in one fluid movement.

“Ouch!” he shouts for real this time as the slice I made in his side bleeds in earnest. “You stabbed me, Evie!” he snaps incredulously, glowering at his side, and then at me. I don’t reply. Getting to my knees, I swing the knife again, trying to cut him, trying to make sure he stays back. Instantly, he scuttles away from me out of my reach. I will have to try to get up if I want to stab him again, and I am not sure I can do it.

The noises behind us are growing wilder. Buns and Brownie are taking turns carving little pieces out of Gaspard and then dancing away before he can return the favor. I can’t give their fight much of my attention, focusing instead on Freddie in front of me.

“You can’t win, Evie, no matter what you do. One of us is going to kill you sooner or later. You may as well give me your soul now, since I can purify it. Otherwise, you die with that soul, and you’re going straight to Sheol because it’s pure evil,” he smiles at me. “Give me the knife, and I’ll spare you that. I’ll spare you the fires of Hell,” he says soothingly, holding out his hand for the knife.

My determination falters while my eyes well up with tears. I shake my head to clear my thoughts. “My soul is evil…I’m from Hell?” I ask him, staring into his eyes. Freddie smiles at me, nodding. Slowly, I draw the knife up and begin to hand it to him. At the last second, I turn the blade on him, scoring it over the palm and drawing his blood from a deep wound. I shiver, watching the blood drip down his arm while he cradles his hand to his chest. “You’re a liar, Alfred. I’m not going to trust you.”

“That was a mistake, Evie. I’m going to bring you so much pain you’ll beg me to take your soul,” he promises evenly as bitterness seeps into his tone.

“Don’t, Freddie…” I beg with my voice shaking. “You can just leave…please…leave us alone…” Holding the knife tight in my hand, I swipe it at him in desperation, but he is no longer listening to me. He is watching the fight behind me between Gaspard and the girls. The frown on his face tells me what I want to know: Gaspard is losing.

Glancing over at Russell, Freddie smirks, “You lose, Evie. Your soul mate is dying. Sucks to be human. I’ll be back when it’s your turn,” he snarls quickly. Then, in the time it takes me to exhale, he circumvents the girls and Gaspard and is gone from the store.

Hearing Russell gasping, I turn back to see his still body lying on the floor. Crawling on my hands and knees to his side, I clutch the knife in a death grip. Russell’s face is pale as I put my hand on his cheek. He looks at me then; his brown eyes are dilated so that most of the brown is obscured by the blackness of his pupils.

“Russell!” I say in misery, dropping the knife and searching for his hand. Finding it, I squeeze it firmly. He coughs, and blood runs from his mouth.
Alfred is right, Russell’s dying.

“Please don’t die, Russell,” I beg, “please…”

Hot tears slide from my eyes down my cheeks as I panic, looking around for something that I can do to help him. I put my hand on his wound, trying to staunch the flow of blood as it pumps out of him.
God, please help me!
I beg in my mind.

All of the fluorescent lights in the building flicker as my hand on Russell’s wound begins to heat up and glow; it is as if my hand is being lit from inside of me. Crying out in agony, I try to pull my hand away from Russell because the intense heat is turning to fire. We are both burning from the searing inferno of energy pulsing out of me. Screaming in pain, I can’t lift my hand from him. We are welded together like scalding hot metal.

Other pain registers in my mind, too. A throbbing ache, building in my thigh, finally breaks over me in a crescendo of pain. Putting my other hand to my thigh, I attempt to ease the white-hot ache. A sob twists from me before my chest breaks open, and I sag to the floor. Feeling something warm and wet pooling on my stomach, I look down listlessly; a growing blotch of red spreads over my blouse as my blood seeps out from my chest. The heat in my hand lessens, but I hardly realize it because of the stabbing pain near my heart. Tasting blood in my mouth, blackness obscures my vision. Waves of energy are flowing out of me to slip away into the air, like the scent of a flower drifting in the breeze.
I can rest now,.. so tired,
I think as I begin to float away….