“But you got to see him?” I asked in awe. All the crossing-over stuff was still such a mystery, even to me.
“Yes. He sent me back. I was pissed.” He turned to look out the window into the black night. “I didn’t want to come back. I’d never felt anything like that.”
“I’ve heard that before. It makes me happy to know that death is just a phase, that we go to another world and it’s wonderful. But you said you went somewhere else?”
“Yes. After I saw you. And it’s not always wonderful.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I went to hell, Charles.”
I stilled. “You mean that metaphorically, right?”
“No. I don’t.”
“You mean literally? Hell? As in fire and brimstone?”
“Yes.”
I sat back, stunned.
“And I learned things. I wasn’t there by accident. I was sent. To learn. To understand.”
“To understand what?”
“What your boyfriend did for a living.”
He didn’t have to elaborate. I knew he was talking about Reyes. Who else?
“Do you have any idea what he is?”
“The son of Satan.”
His expression showed his surprise. “And you’re okay with that?”
“Swopes, he escaped from hell, okay? He’s not a bad guy. Well, not totally bad.”
He scoffed and rose from the table. “Then you need to see what I’ve seen.”
A ripple of fear shimmied through me. “What?”
“He was a general there, you know. The son of evil, yes, but he rose through the ranks of hell all on his own. He was a skilled assassin and he lived for the taste of the blood of his enemies.”
“He wasn’t exactly raised in a nurturing environment.”
“So, you’re going to make excuses for him all night? Why did you come here?”
“I wanted to know how you were. Sorry.”
I got up to leave again, but he stopped me with one thing he said: “He was sent here. For you.”
I turned back to him. “I know he was sent here, but to get a portal. Any portal. Not for me specifically. Then he saw me and fell in love. So he escaped the bonds of his father and waited for me.”
“He fell in love?” The astonished expression on his face told me exactly what he thought of me. “He didn’t escape anything. He was sent. For you in particular.”
“You can’t believe that.”
“Oh, no. You’re right. I mean I was only shown it in hell. Surely my sources are mistaken.”
“Swopes, people don’t just go to the netherworld, then come out unscathed.”
“The f**k they don’t. I did. Then I was dragged out by a force of some kind. And I never said I was unscathed.”
Well, if anything would affect the psyche, it would be a trip to hell. I didn’t know what to say. “What was it like?”
He waved his beer in the air. “You know. Hot. Lots of screaming. Lots of agony. I would not recommend it for a vacation spot.”
“How do you know about—? Who told you about Reyes?”
The look he placed on me was filled with a seething kind of hatred. “His father.”
I sank back into the chair. “So, you two just struck up a conversation over an open pit, compared notes on death and agony?”
“Something like that. He wanted me to see, Charley.”
“See what?”
“What his son was.” He lurched forward as though trying to will me to believe him. “What he did.”
“We all do things we aren’t proud of.”
He laughed harshly and scrubbed his face with his fingers. “You live in your own little world, don’t you?”
“Yes, and I like it here.”
“Well, let me tell you this: I know what he is and I know what you are and I know what will come down if he gets you. I am not about to let that happen.”
Oh, wonderful. “Come down? What, like hell on Earth?”
“Like the worst kind of hell on Earth. Charles, he was sent here. For you. To make all of his father’s dreams come true.”
I stood to get a drink of water. “What you saw, what they told you, isn’t real. He wasn’t sent here. He escaped. He came here on his own.”
“Is that what he told you?”
“Yes,” I said, combing his cabinets for a glass.
“I never figured a grim reaper would be so gullible.”
Screw it. I could get a drink at home. There were few things I hated more than having my intelligence questioned.
I closed the cabinet door and leaned over him as he sat at the table. “So, you’ve been to hell, huh?” When he nodded, I offered a candy-coated smile, patted his cheek, and said, “Sweet dreams.”
10
Facing your fears builds strength.
But running away from them builds hamstrings.
—BUMPER STICKER
I drove home seeing red. Literally. A cop pulled me over and those lights were freaking bright. I would probably have red blotchy vision for days. After a little flirting which got me nowhere and a mention of who my uncle was which got me everywhere, I drove the rest of the way a little calmer and a lot slower. Despite the hostilities, Swopes’s house was a nice reprieve from my cluttered abode. I examined the area when I drove up, paying close attention to the sinister shadows and dark corners. I hadn’t been out this much in weeks. And going out at night, at such a deserted hour, felt strange. Unsafe.