Grave Mistakes (Hellgate Guardians #1)(37)

“Where are you going?” Iceman asks him.

“To the kitchen. She fucking ate my sandwich,” he replies moodily.

I smirk, and Echo catches the look, his own lips tilting up in amusement. “Come along, Swamp Thing.”

“Don’t call me that,” I say, my eyes bouncing to Iceman as I silently question whether Echo and his advances are really the best choice. But Iceman doesn’t object or do anything to stop Echo from guiding me out of the dining room.

At the last second, I snatch up the bottle of wine on the table, giving the other two a look that just dares them to say anything. They don’t. Smart demons.

I hear Crux whistle as soon as I leave the room. “This is gonna be fun,” he says, his tone cheerful.

I couldn’t disagree more.





9





“Extra towels are under the sink, and there should be a clean robe hanging on the back of the door,” Echo tells me as he leads me into the massive guest bathroom.

It looks like a picture straight off of my what my bathroom will look like if I’m ever filthy rich Pinterest board. Echo checks the back of the door and then nods when he spots the white fluffy robe hanging there. I try my best to ignore my reflection in the mirror that practically takes up the whole wall to my right, but it’s impossible. My bright purple hair looks like a weird mousy brown color thanks to the mask of sludge it’s caked in. At this point, I think Swamp Thing might be more attractive than me.

I catch Echo watching me in the mirror. I expect him to look away quickly when he realizes that he’s been busted, but he just keeps his black eyes locked on mine. He’s intense in a way that’s intimidating, and yet at the same time, it makes me incredibly curious. His eyes are like a black hole trying to suck me in, and I find, oddly, that I’m super into that.

I blink that weird ass thought away and clear my throat. “So...uh...you guys mentioned a Grim Reaper and a scythe?” I venture to say. The term stood out for me like it was a neon flashing sign the other night. I’m pretty sure I don’t want to know what that has to do with me, but judging by the little green demon run-in I just had, ignoring what’s going on isn’t going to save my ass. Maybe when it comes to Hell and what it spawns, ignorance is not bliss; it’s a death sentence.

“The Grim Reaper is the most famous Gatekeeper and last of its kind. But Grim guards the Gate between life and death, whereas we’re guarding the Gate between Hell and the Mortal Realm.”

“So you guys aren’t Gatekeepers?”

“No,” he replies. “We’re just Gate Guardians. When the Hell Gatekeepers all died off, Lucifer appointed the duty to prestigious demon families—ones he could actually fucking trust. It’s hard to find demons trustworthy enough to watch the Gate and not fuck it up by letting hordes of demons break through. But over time, it’s required more and more power to stabilize the Gate and keep it strong and impenetrable.”

“Why?” I ask curiously.

Echo shrugs. “We’re not meant to hold the Gate. Only Gatekeepers are. So even though our families have been Guardians for centuries, all we’ve really been able to do is slap a Band-Aid over the thing, hoping it doesn’t burst and flood this realm with demons who don’t belong. But holding the Gate is draining. Literally. It constantly syphons off our power to keep it stable. And now, either we’re being drained faster than we realized, or for whatever reason, the Gate needs more power. We’ve been aware that we need more help for a while. The temps never last more than a few months, and other Inner Ring demons, who are more powerful, refuse to take the position, knowing it will ultimately lead to their death.”

“Can’t the Devil just make a more powerful demon take the job?” I ask, perplexed. “I mean, the dude is Satan. It doesn’t seem like a far-fetched solution.”

Echo smiles, and it makes him even more devastatingly handsome. “Nope. Not even the Morning Star himself can steal our choice. It’s all about balance,” he tells me cryptically.

This information makes me see the four of them in a whole new light. They chose to be here doing this, even though they knew it probably wouldn’t end well for them. It makes me realize how important this job is to them. “So the Gate is broken and letting out demons who shouldn’t be here, because you don’t have enough power anymore to sustain it?”

“It’s breaking,” he corrects. “And yes. We do our best, but demons sneak through from time to time. We can’t close the Gate properly on our own anymore.”

“So what about the green demons who attacked me?”

His arms shift from where they’re crossed over his chest as he leans against the bathroom wall. “I suspect they were either Outer Ring demons or imps. Either way, they detest Inner Ring beings. They must’ve sensed you and attacked.”

“Imps?”

“Sure. Most of the staff here are imps.”

I cock a brow. “Do I want to know what an imp is?”

“Probably not, but I’ll tell you anyway.”

“Goodie.”

He laughs, and I get so distracted from the sight of his beautiful smile that I momentarily forget about the horrible topic we’re discussing. “Demons are born, not made. We’ve always resided in Hell, but it’s not the torturous place that most humans believe. It’s just...another realm. But we struck a deal with Heaven, and the souls that need consequences and growth after their death become imps.”