Page 91 of Hellbound

“Since I was eighteen. So did my dad. It’s the family business.”

Tori’s mouth fell open.

“Why?” She asked, incredulous.

Paul shot her a grim look.

“Because my family believes that killing the Argent is how we’ll stop the dead from slipping into what everyone thinks is Hell. I have no idea if it’s going to work, but what else can we do? Vale’s vengeance is the best chance we have.”

Marian froze. Tori broke the silence.

“And we have no idea why some of the dead go to Hel—there?”

Paul shook his head. “We only know what people live to tell about, and only twenty percent of near-death experience survivors recall what they saw when they died.”

All the color drained from the traveler’s face. Marian wasn’t much better off.

“You’re saying there’s a possibility we will all end up there?”

“Now you’re getting it,” Paul said as he popped a green bean in his mouth.

“But that’s not a sure thing?” Marian said quickly.

Paul shrugged. “The possibility alone is enough of a reason for me to want to help Vale without being a complete ass hat about it. Then we have whatever Verinne just did to Roman with the ixyura, which is what kicked the boss’s plan into high gear.”

“So if you’re saying it’s possible all the dead go to … not Hell …” Tori said slowly, her pinched brows signaling to Marian that the traveler was about to ask a question with an answer she’d dislike no matter what. “Why haven’t we seen them?”

Paul looked at Marian pointedly, then glanced away. “Because the ixyura—the Remnant—takes them all.”

Tori somehow achieved an even ashier complexion. Marian almost gripped the edge of the table as she processed the appalling hypothesis. It made sense. Too much sense.

“Where’s Vale?” Marian croaked.

“Out. He’ll be back soon to fill you in on the rest.”

A kitchen timer beeped. Paul got up, returned to the island, and pulled out another pan—one covered with thick, sizzling … chicken tenders. He set the pan down beside the green beans and shoveled the chicken onto another serving plate.

“I know this all sucks, dudes—welcome to the ‘Cursed Knowledge’ club. And not-Hell? That pocket dimension, parallel world, wherever they all came from—I can’t pronounce its actual name—just call it Hell. It’s easier. Now eat up.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

The next half hour passed in a blur.

The conversation had shifted to less-dire, but still-tense topics. Like that they’d have their own rooms in this house, where the basic amenities were located, and how the Argent had no idea where Vale’s home was; he had several. It was nearly six pm, and they were somewhere in Pasadena.

Nothing seemed real as Marian sat at the long pine dining table, looking out over a lush garden of hedgerows, flower beds, and a grassy lawn bordered by low stone walls.

When Marian didn’t heed Paul’s orders to help herself to food, he did it for her, burdening her with twice as many green beans as everyone else.

Famished though she was, and finally free of the nausea that had plagued her for days, Marian couldn’t stomach the thought of eating. That familiar panicky feeling gathered strength inside her and coiled around her throat. She was stuck between two places she didn’t want to be, as Tori and Paul’s conversation had devolved into bickering.

“You threatened to shoot me,” Tori said.

Paul snorted into the bottle of Corona he’d raised to his lips. Since when was there beer?

“It wasn’t even loaded. You might want to recalibrate your magical lie detector.”

“That’s not how it works,” Tori snapped back.