The Devil's Third (20 page)

Nathan

I went home as she requested. Out of her . . .

Life.

Jesus Christ
, I can’t even stomach the thought.

I didn’t bother turning on the lights when I opened the door. The overnight bag was slung over my shoulder, and I froze with the handle still in my grasp. The moonlight spilled onto the wooden floor, illuminating the dust motes floating above the dull surface. A cold darkness seeped into my pores. My heart jackhammered against my rib cage, thudding in my ears like a war drum reaching its peak before sending an army off to battle. My breath caught in my throat, the air curdling in my lungs, robbing me of oxygen. I could hardly breathe.

In the far distance an elk bugled as if to punctuate the overwhelming loneliness crashing upon me. My grip tightened on the handle and at the same time my shoulders rolled forward. The strap slid down my arm, releasing the bag. It hit the floor with a heavy thunk. I stumbled forward, but then managed to steady myself.

 Brayden’s text kept flashing through my mind:

I Win. I Win. I Win.

Paige wasn’t a possession. He damned well knew it, and I knew his “
I win
” statement wasn’t spawned from such mentality. Sure, Brayden was determined to gain Paige’s affections, so they would overshadow what she felt for me, but had he actually succeeded?

My throat constricted, and the room spun. I swung the door closed. It slammed, and I staggered sideways. My shoe caught my bag, and I lurched forward. With my arms splayed in front of me, I braced myself before my face smashed the floor. I rolled onto my back and lay there, trying to catch my breath. It sounded ragged and broken, a manifestation of how I felt inside.

In the far dark corners of my mind, an old comfort presented itself, as if to say
“Hello, remember me? I comforted you once before, made you numb to where you felt nothing. I can do it again, and this time especially warrants my assistance.”

I rested an arm over my eyes and groaned, involuntarily swallowing, remembering the smooth amber liquid sliding down my throat, leaving a trail of warmth in its wake, soothing my body and senses, paralyzing them. I also remembered the time where I drank myself into a stupor and would wander into a brothel in a drunken daze, only to find the next morning, I could barely recall what actually took place the night before. Of course Cassondra, who worked there by choice not by necessity, couldn’t keep her legs closed whenever I was around . . .

Wait a minute.

I backtracked those thoughts. She couldn’t keep her legs closed, period. She latched onto me when I’d stumbled through their door, swinging a bottle of whiskey by its neck at my side. My white button-up shirt wrinkled and half untucked from my rumpled brown trousers.

But I didn’t want to think about it. Besides, I couldn’t remember much anyway. Those pockets of time in my life were foggy, until I’d decided drowning my sorrow wasn’t a way to live. I had to admit, though, it did take the edge off for a while and had given me a reprieve from my grief over outliving my family, which sure was nice.

With the thought, the voice raised its ugly little head once more.
“So how about it? You deserve to feel nothing for a while. To feel detached, yet relaxed. You know Anwar always keeps bottles of brandy and whiskey in your house.”

In my mind’s eye, I could see Anwar getting a brandy glass from the oak china cabinet and opening the cupboard beneath it where he stored his liquor. He’d pour it, his huge hand warming the delicate glass. Slowly he’d swirl the caramel color around, some of the liquid sticking to the sides, then he’d gingerly hold it to his lips, his nostrils widening as he sniffed it and finally he’d take a sip. The very act of drinking a fine spirit was a ritual Anwar held in high regard, something I learned to emulate throughout the years of spending nights playing chess with him.

My mouth watered, and I found my reservations not to give into it faltering. One lousy night of complete and utter drunkenness to take away this unbearable ache in my heart wouldn’t hurt.

Just one . . .

“Then you could forget about her.”

My hand flew to my chest when a jolt of fear stabbed my heart. I bolted up and sat motionless for a long moment.

Something wasn’t right. Fear and panic surged through me. I tried to decipher if those feelings were self-induced or coming from an outside source. Closing my eyes, I took slow deep breaths while trying to swipe aside the web of thoughts entangling me moments ago.

“
We’re so screwed,”
I heard Paige say.

Her words were so clear in my head, as if she said it right beside me. I didn’t know how I heard her, but I did. There was no doubt in my mind, and I knew in that instant those feelings of fear and panic raging through me were hers.

I leaped to my feet, ready to walk through the pit of hell and do battle with whatever it was threatening her. Whether she chose to be with Brayden or not was irrelevant. Even if she never wanted to see me again, it didn’t matter. My feelings for Paige hadn’t changed, and there was still something not right with how she ended our relationship.

I zipped to the door, then stopped cold in my tracks. I had no idea where she was, so where would I go? Running a hand through my hair, an annoyed sigh escaped my lips.

I paced.

Now what the hell was I going to do? Son-of-a . . .

My mind stilled, and the mental chatter retracted, an army of thoughts abandoning their posts. All but one–a straggler. It was a solution. A very slim one, and I doubted it would work, but right now I had no other leads. Within seconds, I was in my truck, fishtailing down the dirt path through the woods, white knuckling the steering wheel, gritting my teeth. I stopped and shifted into reverse. Slinging an arm over the backseat, I peered out the back window and slammed my foot on the gas, the tires blowing clouds of dirt in the air. I spun the truck in front of my house and hopped out. I could run faster to my destination than driving there. So I sped through the dark forest, hoping this one unlikely person would be able to help me.

***

“Nathan?” Tree’s mother stood behind the nurse’s station looking a bit taken aback from my sudden presence. “What are you doing here at this hour?” Tori must have seen something disturbing in my face because an anxiousness entered her eyes. She stepped around the counter. “Is Jack okay?” Her eyes filled with tears.

“Tree . . . um, Jack is fine,” I told her. “I need to see Carrie, though.” My voice was deep and rough with emotion.

She reached in the front pocket of her white scrub top and extracted a Kleenex. She dabbed at the corner of her eyes and frowned. “It’s too early for visiting hours.”

I was afraid she’d cite policy, but I wouldn’t give up so easily. I stared at her, silently pleading with my eyes to make this one exception.

She blinked and looked away, wiping her nose with the Kleenex. “If you’re worried about Carrie, she’s doing quite well,” she said, balling up the tissue and dropping it in the trash can next to the counter.

“That’s wonderful, but I still would like to see her,” I replied, still staring at her.

She lifted her gaze to mine. Her forehead wrinkled. “Does Jack know you’re here? They’re in love, you know.”

I couldn’t believe what she was implying. I shook my head and let out a humorless laugh. I ran a hand through my hair, and it took every ounce of what willpower I could muster not to blow up. My ears were burning.

She raised her hands, the skepticism vanishing from her face. “Okay. Okay. I can see your feelings for Carrie are strictly friendship and nothing more. But I had to be sure because Paige isn’t with you, so I assume--”

I squinted at her. “I’m still in love with Paige,” my voice cracked. I cleared my throat. “But I must see Carrie . . . for Paige.”

An older woman with jet black air in a tight bun wheeled a large gray plastic cart with cleaning supplies down the hall. She wore dark green scrubs, and the artificial light reflected the silver strands threaded through her hair.

Tori glanced at her. She opened her mouth to ask another question, but she must have seen the impatience tightening the muscles in my face because she sighed instead. “Very well,” she finally said. “Try to be quick about it.”

“Thank you.” I dashed in the room without giving her a second look.

The room was dark, except for a small lighted lamp on a table in the far corner. Machines surrounded Carrie’s hospital bed. Thin white plastic tubes were strung over the metal rail, disappearing beneath the covers where Carrie lay. A constant beeping pulsed between us, and although the air held a floral scent from all the blossoms crowding the other tables, my nostrils burned from the lingering antiseptic smell. I dragged a blue vinyl chair next to Carrie.

“Carrie,” I said in a low voice, sitting in the chair and scooting it closer to her. “It’s Nathan.” My hand snaked beneath the thin white blankets. I held her limp hand and lightly squeezed it. “I’m sorry to bother you, but it’s important.” I paused and studied her for a few moments, hoping to see any hint of recognition on her face: a twitch on the lips, eye movement, anything. I got nothing, only solid stone, a mummified version of her. I continued, silently begging for some spiritual help. “I know you can hear me. I know you’re in there somewhere.” I paused again. No response. I rested my head on the edge of the mattress. Hope was slipping through my fingers. I knew it would be a matter of time before Tori would barge in to ask me to leave. The morning crew would be arriving soon.

 Taking a deep breath, I thought I’d give it one more shot. I lifted my head and gave Carrie’s hand another soft squeeze. “Paige is in serious danger, Carrie, and you’re my only hope.” Her fingers wiggled. I sat up, the sound of my heart pulsing in my ears. I leaned forward, my lips next to her ear. “Without your help, Paige might die.” I knew it was extreme, but I was desperate, and in a sense it could be true.

Carrie’s eyelids fluttered open. “Paige,” she whispered and at the same time I breathed a sigh of relief.

“Yes,” I whispered. “She’s in serious trouble, and you’re the only one who can help me save her.”

Her eyes shifted to mine. I could tell she was in between worlds by the faraway look in them. “Paige,” she repeated as if she were calling from another land.

“If you know anything, please tell me. Paige’s life is depending upon it,” I said.

She closed her eyes. My heart stopped. What if I’d lost the connection with her? But then her chest rose, and she released a slow, steady breath. She opened her eyes, and the cloudiness in them vanished.

“Bael forced Paige and Tree into a deal with him,” she said in a clear high whisper.

I jerked my head back and gaped at her. “What?”

“I was unconscious, but I heard everything. He told her he’d save my life if she promised to take him to the incantations and destroy them. He warned her if she told anybody about their agreement, he’d have Tree killed. He also threatened Tree that he’d wipe out his whole family if he were to tell anybody as well.”

I stared at her, my vision out of focused. Everything started to make sense. Paige’s behavior and the note she had written. All of it was completely out of character for her, but she had no choice. She ended our relationship to save her two best friends.

“She still loves me,” I said to myself.

Carrie looked at me in confusion. “Of course she does. She’s crazy in love with you.” She closed her eyes and hummed the same lullaby Paige hummed when she got back from helping her.

I knew she was drifting from me, and I suddenly became panic stricken. She couldn’t leave just yet. I still needed answers. And now that I knew Paige made a bargain with Bael, I had no doubt in my mind she was with him right at this moment. Where Brayden came to play in all of it, I did not know.

“Carrie, where’s Paige?” I heard the desperation in my voice. “I need to find her.” I squeezed her hand, but it was dead weight. She stopped humming. “Carrie?” I shook her arm.

No response.

I stared hard at her, mentally willing her to come back to me, to answer my one last question.

Only this one question.

Please
.

But she had returned to the place Paige told me about. I released her hand and stood, pushing the chair back. I leaned next to her ear and whispered, “Thanks, Carrie, for telling me what you could. Sleep well, and I’ll figure out a way to bring Paige back to us.”

I stepped away from the bed and locked my hands behind my head. Now what was I going to do? If I were to confront Tree about what Carrie told me, it might put him in a compromising position. I wouldn’t do such a thing to him or risk the lives of his family.

“She’s crazy in love with you.”
Carrie’s words repeated in my head.

I closed my eyes and rubbed my temples. What Paige had done was the ultimate selfless act, something I myself could have never done if it involved losing her to save another life. But Paige was an anomaly set apart from anyone I had ever known. I could feel a dampness around my eyes and ran my fingers across them.

“I’ll find you. Even if I have to scour the earth and torture every dark spirit who crosses me. I. Will. Find. You.”

 My ears rang, and my muscles instantly tensed. I could hear Tori arguing with someone, saying it was too early for visitors. Another female voice responded. Her words were clipped and downright rude. “Back off, lady, I’ll be gone in a minute.”

In a flash, I grabbed the door handle, prepared to subdue the situation by whatever means to protect Tori and Carrie. The door slammed into my chest, knocking me backwards. Reflectively, I snatched the arm and pushed the woman against the wall, my hand around her neck.

“Excuse me. You’re not supposed to be here,” Tori said outside the room, her raised voice pissed. “I’ll call security.”

The door closed in her face, but she swung it open and entered. She gasped. “Nathan. What on earth are you doing?”

I released my grip. The female coughed and rubbed her neck. A yellow beam of light swiped across her green eyes. “He’s protecting Carrie from me,” she said, fixing her gaze on Tori.