Hades by Alexandra Adornetto Page A

better, but I did
    feel a tiny sense of release. “Let’s dispense with the
    melodrama,” he said. “Pretty boy isn’t dead—just a little
    worse for wear.”
    “What?” My head jerked up.
    “The impact didn’t kil him,” Jake said. “It just knocked
    him out.”
    The relief I felt was resuscitating. I sent a silent prayer to
    whatever higher power had spared him. Xavier was alive!
    He was breathing and walking the earth, perhaps just a little
    more bruised than when I last saw him.
    “I suppose things are better this way,” Jake said with a
    wry smile. “His death might have started things off on the
    wrong foot between us.”
    “Do you promise never to hurt him?” I asked testily.
    “Do you promise never to hurt him?” I asked testily.
    “ Never is a long time. Let just say he’s safe for now.”
    I didn’t like the implication behind the words for now , but
    decided not to push my luck.
    “And Ivy and Gabriel are safe?”
    “They’re a formidable force together,” he said. “Anyway,
    they were never part of the plan. I was only interested in
    getting you here and now that’s done. Although for a while I
    wasn’t sure I’d be able to pul it off. It’s no easy feat for a
    demon to drag an angel into hel , you know. I’m not sure it’s
    ever been done before.” Jake looked pleased with his
    achievement.
    “It sure looked easy to me.”
    “Wel ,” Jake said, smiling indulgently. “I didn’t think I’d be
    able to rise again after your holier-than-thou brother sent
    me back down here. But then those sil y little friends of
    yours started summoning spirits right there in Venus Cove!
    I couldn’t believe my luck.”
    Jake’s eyes smoldered like coals. “It wasn’t a very
    powerful incantation that girl recited. It only awoke some
    restless spirits, but they were more than happy to trade
    places.”
    “They weren’t trying to summon demons,” I said
    defensively. “Seances are only supposed to conjure
    spirits.” I couldn’t shake the feeling of responsibility. I had
    chosen to turn a blind eye when I should have done more to
    stop them, including smashing the board into tiny pieces
    and throwing it out the window.
    “It’s more of a lucky strike real y,” Jake said. “Who knows
    what you’l pul out of the ground.” I glowered at him darkly.
    “Don’t look at me like that, it’s not entirely my fault. I couldn’t
    have brought you here if you hadn’t accepted my invitation.”
    “What invitation?” I said sarcastical y. “I don’t remember
    you asking if I wanted a pit stop in Hel .”
    “I offered you a ride and you accepted,” Jake said
    smugly.
    “That doesn’t count, I was tricked—I thought you were
    someone else!”
    “Too bad. Rules are rules. Besides, how naive can you
    be? Didn’t it strike you as a teeny bit odd that Mr.
    Responsible would dive-bomb from a tree into a river? Did
    you real y think he’d ditch you to play frat-boy pranks? Even
    I didn’t think you’d fal for that. You of al people should have
    known better, but it only took a second to break your faith in
    him. You sealed your own fate by accepting that ride. It
    hardly had anything to do with me at al .”
    His words hit me like blows. As the realization of my own
    stupidity sank in, Jake began to laugh. I’d never heard
    anyone laugh in such an empty, hol ow way. He reached out
    and grasped my hands in his.
    “Don’t worry, Beth. I’m not going to let one little mistake
    change my opinion of you.”
    “Let me go home,” I pleaded. Somewhere in the
    recesses of his mind I hoped there lingered a vestige of
    decency that would al ow him to feel a hint of remorse, a
    tinge of guilt, anything I could beg or bargain with. But I
    couldn’t have been more wrong.
    “You are home,” Jake said in a flat voice. He pressed my
    hands to his chest. His flesh felt as mal eable as dough,
    and for an awful second I thought my fingers would sink
    right into the hol ow cavity where his heart