Fuck it, she thought,it’s too late to go back now. She remembered her earlier conviction that ignorance wasn’t bliss and she wouldn’t return to how she’d been before learning all this even if she could.
And then she put her hand in his.
They stepped into the gate together, and the world turned into a vortex, her stomach dropping out the bottom of her.
Blackness. Swirling, swooshing blackness surrounded her as they plummeted through the abyss. And then time froze, and everything went red. Red and black.
The air felt too cold and too hot at the same time. It smelled like a mixture of hot tar and burning plastic. A lightning storm thundered across the red sky. Blackened, thorny vines crept across the ground. Dead, gnarled trees speckled the landscape. In the distance, she could see mountains, rocky and barren. She felt cold, yet her skin was sweating, her blood boiling.
And then, like a hook behind her navel was yanked with sudden force, she was shooting through the void again, this time up instead of down. She never loosened her tight grip on Ash’s hand, and it was only his steady presence that kept her from screaming.
A moment later, they landed hard.
Finally letting go of Ash, she went flying back and would have fallen had his arms not locked around her, pulling her against his chest.
Looking up, she shook her head to dislodge the mass of curls in her eyes and saw the face of the man holding her. His hair was windswept, draped around his shoulders like the softest silk, his dark blue eyes full of concern and so beautiful she lost her breath. His lips, his cheekbones, his brooding dark brows... He was a living, breathing work of art.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Whatwasthat place?” Images of the horrible, red-and-black wasteland sent shivers through her.
“Hell.”
Dear god. She certainly hadn’t imagined Hell would be a picnic, but that... She understood their motivation to escape in a whole new way.
“All gates lead to Hell,” Ash explained, helping her regain her balance. “Even using them on Earth, you have to make a stop there along the way.”
“Oh.”
“You were scared.” He frowned. “I should have warned you first.”
“It’s okay—”
“Eva!”
It was her mom’s voice. She jerked around, Ash releasing her, just in time to see Jacqui come bursting into the big barn studio.
Eva raced out of the sigil and threw her arms around her mom, glad to be home.
“Come in, come in,” Jacqueline Gregory said, waving them into the house through a glass patio door.
She was the spitting image of her daughter, though her skin was several shades darker, her eyes brown instead of Eva’s pale gray, and instead of Eva’s wild curls, her hair had been tamed into thin dreadlocks, currently twisted in a knot on top of her head.
“How was your trip? Is that weird to say? I’m not sure how this works exactly.” She wrung her hands. “Have you eaten? I could whip something up. Oh, leave your bags by the door, and you can let Thelonious out. We’ll sort out the sleeping arrangements later. Come in and make yourselves at home.”
“Don’t touch anything,” Ash hissed at Meph as he looked around the house.
There was art everywhere—paintings on the walls, sculptures on the shelves made of metal, stone, and clay. You name it, Meph could break it. Ash had seen it happen.
They stepped into the living room, and all four of them stood transfixed by the view for a moment. It had been a long time since any of them had the opportunity to experience nature, and Jacqui’s house was right in the middle of it. A tall, A-frame window opened onto an ocean view—choppy waves tossed on a rocky shore covered with dark moss and seaweed—and the house was sheltered by tall cedars on either side.
Meph, of course, went right ahead and touched everything anyway. He dropped his bag at the door per Jacqui’s instruction, wandered straight into the expansive living room, and picked up and examined all the art on the shelves.
“Meph—” Ash hissed, just waiting for disaster to strike.
Jacqui appeared behind him with Eva in tow.
“Meph, damn it, put that back—”
