Wrong Side of Hell (3 page)

Chapter Three

 
K
IRA DOVE HAD died and gone to heaven, or at the very least this was the closest she was going to get.

She stood in the middle of an open-air market surrounded by all sorts of vendors. They lined the square in a series of thatched roofs varying in shades of burnished gold to a dark brown tobacco color. Above her an azure blue sky blanketed as far as she could see, broken only by the odd cotton-candy cloud.

The stalls were filled to the brim with exotic fruits, clothes, colorful souvenirs, and—as an unmistakable melody in the wind greeted her ears and her smile widened—wind chimes. The kiss of sun caressed her face and the smell of the Caribbean tickled her nostrils.

A sense of déjà vu rushed through her, as if she’d been here before. But that was impossible, wasn’t it?

She glanced around once more, brow furled in concentration. It did remind her of . . . of that place. . . . She bit her lip, puzzled. It reminded her of something, but at the moment she couldn’t remember what that something was. Which was weird, wasn’t it?

Kira turned in a full circle, smiling at the people milling about—families, friends, and lovers—and shrugged. She didn’t care where she was, because who knew how long it was going to last?

All around her people moved about, buying wares hawked by pleasant-looking folks—they were as varied as the goods being offered for sale—men, women, black and white. Small animals ran past her feet—a white and gold dog chased by a tiny orange tabby. The animals wove around the crowd and disappeared, two small children close on their heels. The kids giggled and shouted in excitement as several youngsters appeared and joined them.

There was nothing dark or sinister about this place. No fear. She thought of Doctor Mergerone and bit her lip.

No pain.

She took a step and felt the gentle swish of something soft against her skin. She could have sworn she’d been wearing the ugly green uniform from the Institute—a baggy t-shirt and shorts—yet her fingers smoothed pale yellow silk over her hips.

It was the softest thing she’d ever touched and her fingers lingered, enjoying the feel.

She glanced down at her legs, eyes wide in wonder. Unbelievable. Gone was her pasty white skin—the only shade she’d ever remembered having—and instead, she was flush with golden health.

A breeze rolled through the market, whipping long strands of her dark hair around her head. She tugged it from her eyes and grinned.

It felt silky. It felt smooth. There was no hint of dullness or dirt. Or knots. She shuddered.

Or bugs.

Kira took a few hesitant steps and halted, suddenly unsure.

Something nagged at her. It was a sliver of apprehension—a feeling that things weren’t right—but she quickly buried it as an older woman motioned toward her.

“Come here, dear.”

The woman wore a colorful dress that held every jewel tone imaginable woven into the threads. The skirt was full and swept the cobblestones in a rainbow cloud of cotton that reminded her of the gypsy folk her parents would hire to entertain at parties—vagabonds and free spirits. Her silken white hair flowed past her shoulders in gentle waves, and her kind eyes—the color of which Kira couldn’t make out—were crinkled as she smiled.

Kira glanced around, not sure if the woman was looking at her or someone else—but there was no one there. In fact there wasn’t much of anything behind the woman and her stall. It was weird. She saw shapes that appeared to be buildings of some sort, but they were lost in a gray mist that the sun didn’t seem able to penetrate.

It was as if the market was the only thing that existed, but how could that be?

She bit her lip and paused as a man and his children passed in front of her. The youngest—a boy who looked to be about five, with a head full of golden curls and the bluest eyes she’d ever seen—glanced up at Kira and opened his mouth. No words came out but she shuddered as a whisper caressed her ear.
You don’t belong here.

For a second her vision blurred and she stumbled. She blinked and shook her head as the odd feeling persisted, but when she was able to focus there was no one there.

What the hell?

“Would you like a drink?” The musical sound of the old woman’s voice drew Kira’s attention and she quickly crossed the street, though she paused and hazarded a glance back. Just to be sure.

“Did you see them?” Kira’s hand went to her throat in surprise. There was no rasp, no weakness from an ill-used voice box. She sounded strong, if a little unsure.

The woman stirred a large, colorful drink inside a glass so cold moisture collected along its sides and ran down in small rivulets. She shrugged. “There are a lot of souls here. Some I see,” she glanced up at Kira and winked, “and some I don’t.” She handed the magenta-colored drink to Kira. “You, I see.”

Kira accepted the glass, though she wasn’t quite sure she should drink it.

“Go ahead.” The kind eyes stared up at her. “Drink. It will make things clearer.”

At the woman’s urging, Kira took a long draw of the cool liquid. Tangy and sweet at the same time, she gulped it down, smiling and more than a little embarrassed as she wiped a drop from the corner of her mouth.

“Sorry, I’m so thirsty all of a sudden.” She arched a brow. “Can I have a bit more?”

The woman shook her head. “Sorry. I can only give you one drink.”

“Oh,” Kira murmured, her cheeks darkening as an awkward silence fell between them. “I’m . . .” A wave of thirst rolled over her. “I’m just so thirsty.”

The woman nodded. “Most are when they first arrive. The drink will help.”

“Arrive?” Something pricked along the edge of her mind. A memory. A dark one that came with cold and fear and pain. She pushed it away. She didn’t want to remember.

“I’ve not seen you before. You’re new.” The woman clucked like she was talking to a child, and Kira blushed.

“I’m sorry if I seem to be a bit confused. What’s your name?” Kira asked.

The woman opened her mouth and then closed it, her eyebrows knit in concentration. She stared up at Kira for so long that Kira began to feel uncomfortable.

Then she smiled widely and nodded. “Catherine.”

“Oh,” Kira felt her heart lurch. Catherine had been her nana’s name, though her nana had insisted she call her—

“You can call me Cat.”

Cat
. Kira’s eyes narrowed and she took a step backward. This was too much of a coincidence.

She studied the small woman who stood in silence with a wide smile plastered to her face. Something was way off. She bit her lip nervously and looked around, thinking she’d been a fool to accept a drink from the woman.

“Where am I?” she asked, heart beating heavy and voice strained.

Catherine—
Cat
—smiled and crooked her head to the side. “Why, my dear, you’re where you’re supposed to be . . . for the moment.”

“But where is that, exactly?” It was hard for Kira to keep the frustration from her voice as she glanced around. Palm trees wavered along the edge of the market, their leaves brushing the tops of the stalls, their stems whispering in the breeze. Had they been there before?

“It’s where you need to be.”

The woman was talking in circles. Kira ran fingers through the long hair at her neck and then paused, her hands in the air. The marks were gone. All of them.

She turned both of her wrists over and swallowed as her stomach roiled. Shame darkened her cheeks as the image of her scars flashed before her eyes. They were reminders of her pain and weakness.

And they were no more.

“What’s happening?” she whispered.

Why was she missing a huge chunk of time? Why was she not back at the Institute? Her eyebrows knit together and she shook her head. The last thing she remembered was . . . Mergerone and the two new orderlies coming into her room.

Kira’s heart thudded heavily and a wave of heat suffused her cheeks. Her chest was tight and it was hard to breathe. She looked at Catherine and opened her mouth to speak, but something shifted then and she froze.

A trace of energy rippled through the market, touching everything and electrifying the air. The sky darkened and the sun that she’d dreamt about for so long disappeared behind dark, thunderous clouds.

“I don’t understand.” Fear clogged her throat and she was barely able to get the words out.

The woman moved forward, her frail body quick, preternatural. Her gnarled hands ensconced Kira’s tight within her grasp. “Your memories will come back. It’s different with everyone.” The old woman’s hand was on her cheek, the touch light. “The drink will help.”

A frown crossed Catherine’s face as her gaze drifted behind Kira. Something flickered behind their glittery depths. She murmured something in a language that Kira didn’t understand and then grasped both of her wrists tightly, her eyes intense as she looked up at Kira.

“They are not supposed to be here.”

“Who?” Kira whirled around but all she saw were the same tourists milling about. A flash of blond caught her eye and for a second she thought she saw the little boy from moments earlier, but then he was gone.

“Kira.”

She turned back to the old woman. “You need to follow the light.” Catherine pointed behind her. “Understand?”

Hell, no. I think you’re crazier than I am.

“I don’t . . .” Kira shook her head helplessly.

“You need to go now.” Catherine’s voice changed and Kira jerked her head up. Cat nodded. “Now.” She nodded behind her. “Toward the light.”

Kira took a few steps past the old woman, but paused as thunder joined the lightning now crossing the sky. The tourists walked about the market as if unaware that everything had changed. They laughed among themselves, hands reaching for fantastic bargains as they chatted animatedly.

For the first time she noticed that not everyone was dressed the same. Some wore clothes that looked to be from centuries ago—velvet and silk ball gowns, top hats, and powdered wigs. There was a woman dressed smartly in a simple dress cut to just above the knee and a royal blue pin hat. At her throat was a thick strand of pearls, and white kid gloves adorned her hands. She looked like she was from the 1960s. None of this made sense.

Kira blinked rapidly. Now that she’d taken a moment to look closer, some of the tourists didn’t even look human.

Where the hell did that thought come from?

She turned around and a chill rolled over her. Two shadowy figures stood at the edge of the square. They were tall, well over six feet in height, with wide shoulders and powerful arms. They were dressed in long robes that billowed around their feet, dancing in a breeze that seemed not to touch anyone else.

Their faces weren’t clear and in fact the hoods they wore seemed to hide nothing but dark space. They moved forward slowly, their heads turning in unison as if an invisible rope tethered them together. As they perused the market, something about the way they moved sent panic crashing through Kira.

They were unnatural.
Just like the monster from her childhood.
A flash of fur and fangs and the sensation of heat erupted in her mind.

Their feet didn’t touch the ground, and the air shimmered around them as they started toward the market.

And yet, no one seemed to notice them. A young woman jogged in place as she reached for a basket of fruit, her caramel-blond hair held in place by a bright pink band. An elderly man shuffled along slowly, his cane tapping the cobblestone at his feet as he sang a strange tune. The dog reappeared once more, its yipping accelerated as it dove into the crowd.

In that moment everything expanded and then constricted into a tight beam of energy. The world was off-kilter and Kira had no idea what the hell was going on.

“Go, now.” Catherine’s voice was urgent and this time Kira didn’t hesitate
.

Follow the light.

Kira kept her head down and ran toward an alley just behind Catherine’s market stall. She slipped between the walls and paused, glancing back toward the square once she was hidden in the shadows.

Something thick and dull pounded against her skull and her gut churned in fear. Confusion didn’t even come close to describing the images that haunted her head. The things that had driven her mad years before rose to the surface and Kira backed away as the two shadows converged at the end of the alley.

They effectively cut off any means of escape, and for a second Kira struggled to see past the darkness that seeped from beneath their robes, pouring out like thick billowing clouds of smoke. She tried to speak but her vocal cords froze, and her hands clenched so tightly she drew blood.

The specter on the left made a screeching noise and pointed its arm toward her. “You.” Its disembodied voice cut through her brain. It hurt.

She jumped as a growl erupted behind her. Kira whirled around and her fist flew to her mouth as she tried to squelch the scream that caught at the back of her throat.

A man stood, his tall length cloaked in shadow, though his eyes burned through the darkness, a fierce red that cut through the gloom.

She knew those eyes. She knew them well. They belonged to her savior—or at least that’s what she called him. How many nights had she dreamed of him? Of seeing him again? Of touching him? Of losing herself in his embrace?

As a child he’d been nothing more than a memory to cling to. Something that was real in a world of chaos and pain. Yet as she grew older, stuck in the hellhole that was the Institute, the way she thought of him had changed.

When her world had spiraled out of control it was him she’d turned to. Her angel. Her savior. Mergerone had come for her again and again, drugging her, hurting her . . . touching her . . . and it was the stranger and his strength that had gotten her through.

Oh my God.
It was all real. What the doctors called delusions were in fact real. She wasn’t crazy.

A tremulous smile claimed her lips, but faded just as quickly because she knew that if
he
was back, then maybe the beast wasn’t far behind.

Kira Dove had slipped down a rabbit hole fifteen years ago and it seemed as if the ghosts that haunted her head had found her once more.