Charade (Heven and Hell #2)(26)
Author: Cambria Hebert

“I think I proved my point,” Gemma said, gasping for breath. “Get off me.”

I paused.

“If you kill me you’ll never know what just happened.”

Damn. She had a point. I hated that she had a point.

Don’t hurt her, Sam, Heven pleaded.

I shoved off her and growled. She stayed down on the ground as I prowled toward the truck, never once giving Gemma a backward glance. When I reached the truck, Heven was there, holding out a pair of shorts. I took them in my mouth and went behind the truck. Moments later, dressed hastily, I came around to see Gemma coming out of the woods, tucking that box back into the pouch at her waist.

She tensed a little when she saw us walking toward her. “How pissed are you still?” she asked me, her hand hovering over her belt where there was a dagger.

“Seriously?” Heven exclaimed. “You approach us; you claim to want to help us. Then you do something to Sam and now you’re reaching for another weapon? I don’t think we want your help. Thanks.” She turned to walk away.

I was proud of her.

“I’m not the only one with one of these. Don’t you think that he needs to know how to fight when being blocked from shifting?”

Damn.

Heven stopped and turned. “No more games.”

“I was only trying to show you,” Gemma began.

Heven cut her off to say, “No. More. Games.”

“Tougher than you look,” Gemma admired.

“You might have that thing strapped to you right now, but if you piss me off again you won’t even be able to reach for that thing the next time you need it.”

“Agreed,” Gemma said and she stuck out her hand.

Heven stepped out to take it and I caught her arm and towed her back. Heven wasn’t making any deals. Especially with people I wasn’t sure I could trust. With Gemma’s hand suspended, I glanced at it and back to her.

“I’m not agreeing to anything until you tell me what the hell you just did.”

“As a hellhound you have very few weaknesses,” Gemma began and I snorted.

“We don’t have any.”

Gemma lifted an eyebrow. “You can say that after what just happened?”

Well, damn. Wasn’t that like a bucket of cold water dumped over my head? I hated to admit it (and I probably wouldn’t out loud), but she had a point.

“Just cut to the chase,” I said suddenly, feeling weary. This day was only half over and yet it felt like it had dragged on for an eternity.

“Before hellhounds were cast out of Hell, Satan tried a few ways to control them. He went to Hecate, Queen of Witches, and asked her to create three amulets to bind their powers, making it harder for them to fight. As you just experienced, a hound is more vulnerable when it is trying to shift and cannot. You are very strong and have much fighting ability in your hellhound form but not as much as in your human form. I am sure that whenever a demon attacks you always shift to defeat him. Is that right?”

“Yeah.”

“Except for that day in the ice cream shop,” Heven reminded me. “When Cole was there.”

“Who is Cole?” Gemma asked.

“A friend of ours. He walked in one day when a demon was attacking me,” Heven answered.

Gemma nodded. “Does he know, then?”

“No,” I said, finality ringing in my ears. I did not want Cole involved in Heven’s life any more than necessary. I didn’t want him around; then I wouldn’t feel like I had to protect him too when he did something stupid and tried to play hero. I might not like him, but Heven would be crushed if something happened to the guy, and I didn’t want her to get hurt. I really wished I knew what the heck she saw in him.

“I’ve been avoiding him,” Heven said, and a wave of guilt came over me. I already knew she felt guilty about avoiding Cole, so I did my best to ignore it and not let her feelings get to me.

Gemma nodded and backed up to a tree and slid down until she was sitting, half-leaning against the trunk. Heven seemed grateful and sank down into the grass too, tucking her legs beneath her.

I did a scan of Heven’s features. She was still pale and her lips still didn’t have enough color in them for my liking. My throat still held an echo of pain, so I knew hers had to be hurting. We needed to get this conversation over with because she needed to get home to rest. I sat down next to her, our knees bumping together. She smiled at me and I ran my hand down her back.

“Hecate created three amulets that would keep a hound from shifting, keeping him vulnerable so he can be hurt or killed.”

Gemma’s words caused panic to well up in Heven’s chest; I felt it like it was my own.

No one’s going to kill me, Heven.

“Where are these amulets?” Heven asked, obviously doubting my statement. “Can we get them?”

Gemma shrugged. “I’m not sure where the other two are. Probably still in Hell.”

“How’d you get one?” I asked her, curious.

“I killed the guy who had it.” Once more something shifted behind her eyes, but I let it go. Her past wasn’t relevant to this conversation. Yet.

“Is that what we would have to do to get the other ones?” Heven asked.

“Probably. But since you’re a little busy to be off hunting down amulets, I think it’s a better idea that you learn how to fight and defend yourself better in human form.” Gemma looked at me as she spoke.

“I fended you off, didn’t I?” I lifted an eyebrow.

“We were well matched.” Gemma allowed and I scoffed. “But we both know that eventually I would have worn you down. And the minute I opened the box with the amulet inside it, you weakened because your body was trying to shift and it couldn’t.”

She kept having to bring up that damn box didn’t she—reminding me of my weakness.

“What would happen to her,” Gemma said, hitching her chin at Heven, “if you had been taken down or out?”

Inwardly, I groaned. Point taken. Now wasn’t the time to be full of myself. Gemma knew exactly which buttons to push.

“All right, I’ll train with you.

Gemma nodded once. “We’ll start tomorrow.”

“Where do you want me to meet you?”

She thought a moment. “How about at the farm?”

“My Gran’s house?” Heven asked, surprised that Gemma knew of the place. I wasn’t surprised at all. If she had been around since she sold me Heven’s bracelet, then she had been watching us. She knew a lot—probably more than we even did.