Tirade (Heven and Hell #3)(58)
Author: Cambria Hebert

“What the hell are you really doing here?” I growled low at Riley.

“You heard. Heven asked me for help.”

“Since when are you the helpful kind?”

Riley turned his flashing eyes to me. He didn’t say a word, just sipped his coffee.

“How long have you been here?”

“Couple days.”

“You might as well tell me what you want so I can send you on your way.”

“Who says I want something?”

“You don’t do anything for free.”

He actually looked offended. Then he recovered to say, “Who’s to say I haven’t gotten it already?”

“If you had, you’d be gone.” I glanced at Logan to see him watching us and I decided to let the subject drop for the time being. I grabbed one of the coffees and went to sit next to him. As he told me about his stay with Gran, I kept half an ear out for Heven in case she needed me.

“The funeral is tomorrow,” Logan said, drawing my complete attention.

“Yeah, she told me.”

“This is all my fault, Sam.” The despair in his voice was so deep.

I looked him in the eye and held his stare. “This was not your fault. This was Beelzebub’s fault. He did this. Not you.”

“She’s been so nice to me. I didn’t deserve it.”

“Of course you deserve it,” I said, grabbing his shoulder and squeezing. He started coughing and I drew back. “Logan?”

“I’m okay,” he said after a few minutes. “I haven’t been feeling too well.”

By the looks of him, that was an understatement. That demon had completely wrecked his body. I tried to remind myself he had only had eight days to recover, that he would, it would just take a while.

“I have to tell her, Sam,” Logan said, and I noticed Riley was listening.

“Yeah, okay. But let’s wait until after the funeral.”

Logan nodded, looking relieved that he would soon be free of his lie.

I glanced back at Riley, who was pretending not to listen to my conversation. I had a feeling that very soon a lot of truths were going to come out.

Chapter Eighteen

Heven

Dark clouds rolled overhead and thunder rumbled so closely the saturated ground vibrated beneath my feet. As the priest spoke, lightning cracked and lit up the sky, making it look violet.

I was dressed all in black with a black fedora soundly perched on my head. Dark sunglasses covered my red-rimmed eyes and I clutched several tissues in my hand. I stood beneath a sizable black umbrella that Sam held over me while Gran and I huddled close for necessity and comfort. Rain splattered around us, falling in heavy sheets. The priest had said that heaven was weeping at the sudden loss of life.

Despite the miserable weather, the crowd was substantial. My mother and I may have had our problems, but she was well loved. Especially by the congregation at her church, who all stood nearby silently praying as they stared at the simple coffin about to be lowered into the ground. Also in attendance were many of my father’s old co-workers, who were all decked out in their finest police uniforms, adding a bit of polish to this otherwise dull day.

Underneath the umbrella next to ours stood Logan and Cole, also dressed in all black. His injuries from our trip into hell were gone, courtesy of Gemma’s healing powers. His mother hadn’t come, but she did send along her condolences, and his father stood at the edge of the crowd with sincere sorrow on his face. It made me respect the man who raised Cole even more. It made me think of my own father and the things he said when I saw him.

I had so many questions and so few answers. But it seemed wrong somehow to think about that now, here, so I turned back to the crowd and the coffin.

There were people here from school too. I felt their gazes on me even as they tried not to look. Even though I had made strides in reclaiming my once-popular status last year, I knew those strides no longer mattered.

I was back to being a freak. An unknown, a person of mystery and suspicion. No one could keep themselves from staring at the new scar that was gracing the left side of my face. Granted, it wasn’t like the old one. It wasn’t disfiguring, but it was there. Worse, I hadn’t offered a word of explanation. I could almost hear the rumors flying through the crowd now. And to top it off, my mother was dead. Befallen by some freak accident and no one really knew what happened. She suffered a head injury, should have woken up, but died instead.

I lifted my chin and brushed them all off. After having my head invaded by a Dream Walker, who also happens to be the Prince of Demons in hell, being hexed by an all-powerful witch and taking a terrifying ride on the back of a dragon through a wall of fire, a bunch of rumors from some high school students was a day at the park. I searched the crowd, my eyes going to the back to find Gemma standing alone, holding her own umbrella, and dressed in black with her hair down framing her face. Even in sorrow she was beautiful and her eyes never once left my brother.

The priest said his final words, then invited Gran and I to toss a single red rose down into the seemingly endless hole that the casket was being lowered into. I held the rose out, suspended above the hole, and looked down, saying a short prayer of my own before letting go and watching the flower fall gracefully down. Sam wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me gently into his side while tilting the umbrella and blocking me from curious onlookers. It was here that I said my final good-byes. Here, I said all things I never got to say. I hoped she heard them and I hoped she finally understood me. If even a little.

Sam ushered me back so that a few others could come forward and toss a rose, paying their final respects. I couldn’t watch them. Instead I looked out over the cemetery at all the other marked graves and spots of color from the flowers decorating them. It was then that I noticed the movement. He was a shock of black amongst a sea of gray headstones.

Riley was standing without an umbrella as the rain pelted him from every angle. His already black hair was like midnight and plastered to his forehead. Water dripped off his face and fell onto his already soaked clothing. He saw me looking and gave a brief, almost imperceptible nod. Then, shockingly, he clasped his hands and looked down.

It was the most respectful thing I’d ever witnessed him do, and the nicest. He did think of us as friends and he just proved it. Otherwise, he wouldn’t stand in the pouring rain to pay respects to a woman who would have hated him.

People started to leave, a few of them coming to me to offer one more condolence. Most, however, hurried to their cars to get out of the storm. When just a few people were left, I looked back at Riley, not really knowing why, but sensing I should.