Page 25 of Soulmarked (Hellbound and Hollow #1)

24

BETRAYAL

M y hands passed through empty air where Cade had stood moments before, fingers closing on nothing but cold and absence. The void collapsed in on itself with terrible finality, leaving behind scorched earth and silence where reality had nearly torn apart.

“No.” The word came out broken, barely recognizable as my voice. “No, no, no.”

Around me, Central Park began to right itself, twisted trees slowly straightening as whatever force had corrupted them faded. The purple-bruised sky cleared to normal dawn light, though wisps of demon smoke still curled through the air like the last echoes of a nightmare. Everything returning to bloody normal while my world lay shattered.

Bodies littered the ground, the possessed people Cade had freed with his sacrifice, their chests rising and falling with breaths that seemed obscene in their normalcy. Some stirred, blinking in confusion. Others lay still, but alive. All of them saved by what he'd done.

What I'd let him do.

“Fecking Christ.” My hands shook as I stared at them, still stained with whatever had passed for Cade's blood in those final moments. It felt colder than normal blood, like liquid nitrogen had replaced his life force while the mark consumed him.

His last words echoed in my head, a promise and a curse: Find me.

“Status report!” Sterling's voice cut through the chaos as CITD agents swarmed the area. They moved with precision, checking vitals and securing the perimeter like this was just another cleanup job. Like a tear between realms hadn't just ripped open right here. Like the world hadn't nearly ended in this exact spot.

“Dimensional breach is sealed,” one of the agents reported. “Energy levels stabilizing.”

“Prince's signature is gone,” another added. “No trace of...”

“Shut up.” Sean's voice was quiet but sharp. The agent immediately went silent. Others instinctively took a step back.

Sean barely noticed. His focus was on the so-called agents, watching how they moved, how they knew what to check for, how they scanned the area like seasoned hunters. Ordinary CITD field teams weren't trained for this kind of work. But these people were.

He nodded toward the ones sweeping the Great Lawn. “These yours?”

Sterling exhaled, rubbing a hand over his face. “Ex-hunters,” he admitted. “Not many, but enough. The ones who saw the writing on the wall and wanted out before the war chewed them up.”

Sean's jaw tightened. “And now they work for CITD? You're telling me hunters just gave up the kill-first doctrine and signed up to play watchdog for you?”

“Not watchdogs,” Sterling corrected. “We're still fighting, just differently. The people I recruit know the hunt doesn't end with a body count. They wanted something better.”

Sean let that sit for a second before asking, “Cade know about this?”

Sterling hesitated. A flicker of something unreadable passed over his face before he looked away.

“Didn't think so,” Sean muttered.

I couldn't look away from the empty space where Cade had stood. Where he'd made his choice, had become something beyond flesh and bone to save a reality that didn't deserve him.

“Sean.” Juno's voice carried careful concern as she approached. “We need to...”

“Don't.” My hands clenched into fists, shoulders so tight they might snap. “Don't ye dare tell me what we need to do. Don't ye dare act like this is just another hunt gone wrong.”

“It's not.” Her cool fingers brushed my arm, and I had to fight the urge to break them. “But we have civilians incoming. The wards don't have long till it is gone.”

“Let them come.” Something wild and broken clawed at my chest, demanding violence. “Let them see what their precious reality cost.”

“Sean!” Lex's hand landed on my shoulder, grip tight enough to bruise. “We have to move. We don't need more complications than we already have.”

I yanked away from him, fury rising hot enough to choke. “Complications? That's what this is to ye? A fecking logistics problem?”

“No.” His voice softened slightly. “But getting arrested for being at ground zero of whatever cover story Sterling's about to spin won't help anyone.”

“Don't.” The word came out like broken glass. “Don't pretend there's anything to find. I felt him...” My voice cracked, and I had to stop before something worse than words broke free.

Sterling appeared then. His eyes lingered on the scorched ground, on the symbols burned into reality itself, and something like understanding crossed his features.

“He's not dead, Sean.”

“Then where is he?” I demanded, getting in his face. “Where the fuck did your precious agent go when he let that thing take him apart?”

“Sean.” Juno's voice carried warning now. “Let him go. This isn't helping.”

“Helping?” I laughed, the sound raw and wrong. “Nothing helps! Nothing fucking matters because he's gone and we let him,” My voice broke completely, grip loosening on Sterling's jacket. “I let him...”

“You didn't let him do anything.” Sterling's voice was gentle now, which somehow made it worse. “He chose this. Used what was done to him for the greater good.”

Something in my chest cracked, letting out a sound too broken to be a laugh, too angry to be a sob.

“His choice?” My hands shook as I stepped back. “His fucking choice to become what? A wall between worlds? A prison of flesh and power and...”

“A hero,” Sterling cut in firmly. “He became what his parents died protecting. What the mark was actually designed for.”

I wanted to hit him. Wanted to tear into something, anything, until the universe gave Cade back. But what was the point? Violence couldn't fix this. Nothing could fix the Cade-shaped hole torn in my heart.

“Agent down!” Someone called from the perimeter. “We need medical attention!”

“Clear the area!” Sterling's voice shifted back to authority as he turned away. “I want this whole section cordoned off before civilians...”

I tuned it out, staring at my hands again. Still stained with blood that felt colder than death. His touch had been like frost and lightning, power flowing through him until he wasn't quite solid anymore.

Find me.

“I will,” I whispered to the empty air where he'd stood. “I don't care what ye became, what walls ye had to build. I'll tear reality apart myself if that's what it takes.”

Around us, CITD agents continued their cleanup, erasing evidence of what had really happened here. The morning sun painted everything in shades of gold and shadow, making it all look deceptively normal. Like reality hadn't almost broken apart. Like someone hadn't sacrificed everything to hold it together.

I took one last look at the scorched ground where Cade had stood, memorizing every detail. Then I turned away, letting Lex lead me toward whatever came next.

The CITD tactical vehicle smelled of blood and ozone, metallic hints of supernatural aftermath mixing with sweat and fear. I sat across from Sterling, my hands clenched into fists so tight I could feel nails cutting into palms. Better that pain than the hollow ache in my chest where Cade should be.

“Talk.” The word came out rough, my accent thicker with barely contained fury. “Everything ye know about the mark. About what really happened to him.”

Sterling looked older than I'd ever seen him. “It goes back further than you think. Further than any of us realized until it was too late.”

“I don't need a fecking history lesson.” My boot heel bounced against the vehicle's floor, a sharp rhythm of contained violence. “I need to know what happened to Cade.”

“To understand that,” Sterling said carefully, “you need to understand what came before. What the First really was.”

Around us, CITD agents tended to the injured, their movements careful and professional. Through the vehicle's tinted windows, I could see more tactical teams sweeping the park, erasing evidence of what had really happened here. Like they could just clean away the fact that reality had almost broken apart.

Like they could erase what Cade had become to stop it.

“The First wasn't just any demon,” Sterling continued, his voice dropping lower. “As you already know, it was the original marked one, a being that understood something fundamental about reality itself. Something both Heaven and Hell wanted to keep hidden. But something that was not in the books was that it was a Nephilim.”

“A Nephilim?” The word felt strange on my tongue. “What's that got to do with any of this?”

“Nephilim, half angel, half human, beings of immense power who exist between the divine and mortal realms,” Sterling explained, his voice grave. “They possess abilities beyond conventional supernatural entities. The First was the original Nephilim. It discovered how to manipulate the fundamental laws of existence, transforming itself into something that transcended both Heaven and Hell.”

“And that's why they couldn't kill it.” My hands clenched into fists. “Why they could only contain it.”

“It tried to tear everything apart ages ago. Was stopped by others like it, but they couldn't destroy it completely. Its influence remained, corrupting and waiting for the right moment.”

“Cade.” His name felt like glass in my throat.

“Maybe. But here's what doesn't make sense.” Sterling leaned forward, his voice urgent. “His parents, they didn't know anything about the mark. They were guardians, yes, watchers of the old demon gates. But they had no idea that their son would be marked after they die.”

The vehicle hit a bump, making medical equipment rattle. Someone groaned in pain, but I barely heard it over the roaring in my ears.

“Then why?” I demanded, fury rising hot and sharp. “Why was he marked? Who did this to him?”

Sterling exhaled slowly, and I caught real fear in his expression. “Again, we don't know. Something, or someone, chose him long before that night. His parents died protecting the gates, but Cade's mark was something none of us saw coming.”

Sick realization crawled up my throat. “Everything he went through, the fighting against the mark's influence, the growing power, all of it...”

“Was leading to this moment,” Sterling finished quietly. “Yes.”

My fist slammed into the vehicle's wall, making everyone jump. “Ye knew. All this time, ye fucking knew what he was meant for.”

“No.” Sterling's denial carried weight. “I suspected he was important, yes. Knew the mark made him different. But this?” He gestured at the devastation visible through the windows. “This was beyond anything we imagined.”

“Where is he?” The question came out more desperate than demanding. When Sterling hesitated, I grabbed his jacket again. “Tell me! Where the fuck did he go?”

“If I had to guess?” Sterling met my eyes steadily, and what I saw there made my blood run cold. “Hell.”

The word hung between us like a death sentence. Around us, agents pretended not to listen, but I could feel their attention sharpening.

“Hell,” I repeated, the word tasting like ash. “Not dead. Not gone. But in actual, literal Hell.”

Sterling nodded slowly. “Most likely. Though I don't really know exactly where in Hell he'd end up.”

“Stop.” My voice cracked on the word. “Just... stop.”

Silence fell in the vehicle, broken only by the hum of medical equipment and the distant sound of sirens. Through the windows, I could see the sun rising over Manhattan like nothing had changed. Like the world hadn't just lost something irreplaceable.

Once the vehicle stopped, I stepped out of it, needing air that didn't taste like other people's fear and sympathy. The wind howled through Central Park's twisted remains, carrying hints of ozone and something darker.

Hell. The word bounced around my skull like a bullet, tearing new holes with each ricochet. Not dead, not gone, but in actual, literal Hell. The very thought shattered something fundamental inside me, something I hadn't even known could break.

My hands found the familiar grip of my gun, then my blade, seeking comfort in weapons that had never failed me before. But what good were silver bullets against this kind of loss? What could blessed steel do against walls between worlds?

The air trembled, shivering with something more than just movement. It wasn't wind but a presence, curling around me like unseen fingers. The sound that followed wasn't a voice, not really. It was a whisper dragged through the ruins, laced with laughter that didn't belong to this world.

“No.” The word came out like a prayer, though I hadn't properly prayed since Dublin. “You're dead. We watched you fall.”

“Dead?” Asmodeus's voice scratched against my mind, more echo than substance but carrying all his perfect cruelty. “Oh, you simple creature. Did you think death meant anything to beings like us?”

My blade came up automatically, though what good steel would do against a voice only I could hear, I couldn't say. Around me, the twisted trees groaned in preternatural currents that defied the still air elsewhere, their branches reaching like grasping hands toward a sky that still held traces of wrong colors.

“Your marked one thinks he's won.” The Prince's last laugh carried harmonics that echoed through my skull. “But he's only delayed the inevitable. The First will rise once again.”

“Shut up!” I slashed through empty air, blade singing uselessly. “He beat you. He chose to become something you couldn't touch, couldn't corrupt.”

“Chose?” Hatred and amusement twisted through the word. “You think choice matters in the depths where he's gone? ”

“Sean.” Sterling's voice startled me as he emerged from the vehicle, concern etched on his face. “Who are you talking to?”

I realized he couldn't hear the Prince's voice, couldn't feel the cold presence wrapping around me. To Sterling, I must have looked like a man arguing with thin air.

“Nothing,” I lied, forcing my shoulders to relax. “Just... processing.”

Lex appeared beside Sterling, his usual smooth confidence cracked around the edges. “You okay? You look like you've seen a ghost.”

“Not a ghost,” I muttered, too low for them to hear.

“They can't help you,” Asmodeus whispered, his voice slithering through my thoughts. “They can't even hear me. Only you, hunter. Only you know where he truly is.”

“It's suicide,” Sterling said quietly, misreading my expression. “Even if you found a way to bring him back...”

“When.”

“What?”

“When I find a way.” I met his gaze steadily, letting him see enough determination to hide the truth. “Not if. When.”

The Prince's laughter rose again, cruel and certain, but only in my mind. “You'll die trying. Break yourself against walls of flesh and power and torment.”

“Then I'll die trying.” The words carried weight beyond sound, making reality shiver slightly as I committed myself to a path only I could see.