Renegade (Heven and Hell #4)(6)
Author: Cambria Hebert

“You were upstairs asleep in your crib. It was very late and your mother and I were cleaning up the kitchen from your birthday party. Jason and your grandpa were watching TV in the living room. The baby monitor was on the kitchen counter and all of a sudden Madeline and I heard the mobile over your crib begin to play and you started to cry. Then a voice said, “Hush, little baby, don’t you cry. I’ve come to collect an eye for an eye.” Gran visibly shuddered but continued to talk as her aura bloomed dark colors that I’d never really seen around her before.

“Madeline went racing upstairs with the rest of us trailing after her. When we got to your room we found a man with dark hair, standing in the center of the room, with you in his arms. He told Madeline because she broke her word to him he was taking you in fulfillment of their agreement.”

Words from my mother’s letter rushed back to me. “I will not allow you to suffer for my mistakes a moment longer. I must go… He’s waiting.” Was this “he” the same one Gran told us about now? Was it Beelzebub?

“You’re telling us someone tried to kidnap Heven when she was one?” Sam said, frown lines on his face.

“Yes. But it wasn’t just anyone. I’m pretty sure it was this Beelzebub you speak of. The way he seems to think you belong in hell, the way he seems to think he has a claim on you.”

“Wait a minute. My mother and… Beelzebub?” This was just unreal. There was no way my mother could be connected in any way to a Prince of Hell. “There’s no way.” I denied. “He thinks I belong down there because he’s psycho. Because I had that scroll and now because I’m the Soul Reaper, the person destined to release all the stolen souls in hell and cause him to lose some of his power.”

“That’s what I’m saying, honey,” Gran said gently. “The reason all those things have happened to you is because of something that happened with your mother before you were ever born. It marked you.”

Her words cause my heart to skip a beat. Marked. Marked by evil.

It was true.

All those times my mother told me I was marked by evil, she was telling me the truth. She was right.

A heavy, warm hand reached out and pulled my chair closer, the wooden legs scraping across the floor. Then Sam wrapped an arm around my shoulders.

“So what happened? Did Beelzebub take Heven?” Kimber asked.

“No,” Gran said, levelly. “Your father managed to get Heven away from him and then your grandfather went after him. They had a terrible fight. Your grandfather was hurt and Beelzebub got away.”

“He didn’t come back after that for two years. On your third birthday. You looked so cute that year in your fairy princess costume, flitting from house to house, hauling that orange pumpkin that was half the size of you.”

“Wait a minute,” I said, confused again. “You make it sound like Halloween. My birthday’s two weeks before Halloween.”

“Actually, honey, it’s not. Your birthday is Halloween. After the incident on your first birthday and given what was in your mother’s past, she forbade us all to celebrate it on that day and she changed it to a couple weeks before.”

I jumped out of my chair. “She changed my birthday?”

“It frightened her that it was on Halloween,” Gran said.

“You can’t just change someone’s birthday!” I wasn’t really upset because the day was changed, but because of the reasons and because it was actually on Halloween… I was beginning to see why my mother thought I was marked. Suddenly I understood why I never went trick-or-treating, except at the mall when the stores gave out candy. I understood why she wouldn’t let me go to Kimber’s huge Halloween parties back in junior high… She thought Beelzebub was going to come and claim me. I shuddered.

Sam watched me pace and said, “Maybe you should tell us what happened that night when she was three.”

“Beelzebub came back. He grabbed Heven off someone’s lawn and took off with her. Your grandfather gave chase and when he caught them, he stabbed Beelzebub with a dagger he carried. When Jason reached you, you were crying and your grandpa was on the ground, holding his chest. He was rushed to the hospital where…” Gran paused and took a sip of her coffee.

I stood at the door, looking out into the yard, and I answered. “Where he died. They said it was a heart attack.” I turned back to look at Gran. “It wasn’t, was it? Beelzebub killed him.”

“I think so,” Gran admitted. “After that, your mother devoted herself to God and the church. She thought if she prayed hard enough and repented for whatever she did it would keep Beelzebub away, keep you safe and anyone else from dying.”

Tears welled in my eyes and spilled over. Beelzebub had taken so much from me and now I found out he took even more than I realized. My grandfather died protecting me. Gran lost her husband. I glanced at Cole. Cole lost his father, because once my dad realized evil was after his daughter and wife, the safest thing he could do for Cole would be to pretend he wasn’t his.

“I’m sorry, Cole,” I whispered as Sam got out of his chair to come across the room and wrap his arms around me.

“For what?”

“Because of me, you couldn’t have a relationship with Dad. He probably stopped trying to see you because he knew it was safer for you.”

I watched the realization blanket Cole’s face, and he looked at Gran who nodded. “When I realized you were likely getting involved in this anyway, I figured there was no reason to keep that secret anymore.”

“But why not tell us it all then?” I asked, wiping a tear from my cheek.

“Honey, I had no idea how bad things had gotten. Your mother didn’t want you to know and she thought by you being here, away from her, you were safer. I had suspicions things were happening, but I also suspected Sam was protecting you. It wasn’t until recently when Sam wasn’t here and you got so sick that I started worrying things were worse than I thought. Finally, I decided since your mother wasn’t here anymore I didn’t have to keep my mouth shut any longer.”

“I don’t understand how any of this happened! How did my mother ever get involved with Beelzebub?” I ran my hands through my hair, frustrated.

“I don’t know,” Gran said. “She never told me and I never asked. I suspect your grandfather knew, but he isn’t here to tell us, either.”