Infernal

Cam's POV

My skin was still humming from Nina's touch. My soul was rejoicing and I wanted to get it out of me—too bad I couldn't live without it. Then again, I was supposed to be dead.

I wasn't.

I was lying on my king-sized bed contemplating the darn ceiling—breathing, reeling from a heavy make out with the most complicated, breathtaking-in-every-aspect girl I'd ever met. While my brother—my twin—was missing. No, not missing. I knew where he was—the moron. I gritted my teeth turning over.

This was never supposed to happen. Phillip wasn't supposed to watch out for me. I was. My fists hit the duvet—this was my fault; if I'd never been bitten, if I'd been more careful… if Raphael hadn't been fucking stupid and kept my brother under house arrest while I bled out—those were a lot of ifs.

Life wasn't made of ifs, was it?

I kept my face to my pillow, trying to block out memories of her deft fingers running over me—the exquisite taste and feel of Nina's lips and curves. She should be the last thing on my mind. It was hard since she was a few rooms away—sleeping. I could hear the even breaths, the occasional toss and turn—I was misusing my ultra-senses on such a high scale there was no ranking possible.

Later, I reached for the empty flask on my night stand. The inside was slightly orange, dark, almost blood-like. My brother handed himself over for this—what had been inside it. For me—closing my eyes, I sighed hatefully.

I didn't deserve it.

I fished out an old T-shirt. I wasn't going to get any shuteye—fine by me. Not the first time. I sunk on the chaise lounge by the window pane, pulling the guitar along. Leaning on the velvet, I drew up a leg, easing the acoustic instrument on it. I began picking randomly at the chords. I just needed to hear something—anything, so I wouldn't listen to myself think.

Puzzle pieces were aligning themselves even then. I had to search for crossroads nearby—a deal could only be made at a crossroad. That wouldn't be too hard, the smell of Phill's blood would be in the air—my fingers gripped the guitar handle and just before it reached breaking point, I remembered he'd given it to me. My fingers relaxed, brushing softly over the dark-red guitar.

I needed to keep cool. I'd probably have time to let out lots of steam—getting him back wasn't going to be a walk in the park. Not by a long shot. And if a Fallen was able to get him a cure… that meant there were more Cambions. And if Angels didn't know of them, it meant they were hiding in Hell.

Nope, not easy.

I messed around a little longer trying to get some music going, the only thing I made was a whole lot of noise. I was so not in the zone. Setting it down, my head rested back and I threw an arm over my eyes—keeping the sunrise light out.

Even with a T-shirt I didn't feel any warmer. Warm… I'd felt warmth earlier. Not just body-heat, inside me—my insides had been on fire. Raving, madly, aflame—all because of her. I bit my cheek—that girl was… different. Something about her made me tingle—literally. My spine was made of jelly when she approached.

Nina Cortez messed with my head and body in ways I couldn't describe, and this was coming from a guy who'd been with an abnormal number of girls. I should run for the hills, I didn't need another person to hurt—shit, if I had a slogan it could be something like 'Cameron Leale hurting people since 1995'.

Why couldn't I keep Nina at arm's length like I did with everyone else? What was it about her…? And her eyes—the way she looked at me… It was unsettling how much I craved it.

Her Power had to go ahead and dig out that memory. Out of every event—she saw that. Shaking my head, I held a dark chuckle. Well, if I wanted her to hate me all I had to do was tell her the story behind what she'd seen—Nina would swim across the Atlantic ocean just to put distance between us, if she knew.

But I didn't want her to despise me, not really. In the end, I gave in to desire. The thought of her knowing… it gave me the chills. I had no idea what I'd do if she'd left for San Diego—my brain called me selfish. And I was, very. But the depth of my feelings for her… they didn't care.

The right thing was to let her go—I smirked wryly—since when did I do the right thing?

Soon, my ears picked up on her steady breathing, and my heart rate slowed—falling in pace with hers.

***

"Morning," I mumbled as a disheveled, sun-kissed girl walked into my kitchen— "Is that my T-shirt?" Nina stilled, lips thinning. An involuntary smirk crept onto my face. "You know, if you keep stealing my clothes I'll have to go naked," I shrugged at her yuck-face. "Just saying."

"Okay, well, first of all—I never stole your clothes and second, you naked? Spare me the trauma."

I pushed against the marble counter, coffee mug in hand, and my lips tipped.

"I remember last night vividly, Rapunzel, you seemed to want the trauma—what are you doing?" I gaped, as she lifted my huge Tee. It fell on the tiled floor and every muscle—and bone—in my body relaxed. Underneath, she was wearing one of hers. Good; I wouldn't be able to hold back if she stripped.

"Happy?"

"Very."

Nina stood in front of me, impatient. I arched a brow, my sleepless brain knew better than to smile or laugh—Phillip should be my only thought—my lips kept twitching, though. Was she trying to scare me?

"Is that your angry face?"

Her eyebrows knitted, "No. It's my we're-not-on-speaking-terms face." She deadpanned.

"Really?" I jutted my chin. "It looks more of a kiss-me-again-Cameron face." Her cheeks puffed out—I gave a slight, dimpled smirk. "Come on, pouty, admit it. You want me to kiss you again."

Her golden, burning eyes fluttered. The 'angry' face dropped as she smiled sweetly, hand fisting in my cotton shirt—my breath caught. She was too close now.

Nina's apple-red lips shaped into an O, then, parted sexily, "You're right, Cam. I can't live without you another minute, I long for you, I need you—oh, baby, oh baby." She rolled her eyes giving me a shove, nose turning up. "Oh wait," her slim shoulders lifted. "I'm lying. Now move. I need coffee, too."

Hiding my flabbergasted expression, I slid aside letting her get to the coffee pot. Before I knew it, I'd reached for a mug and handed it over. She ripped it away. My lips pursed; Nina was angry at me. That was a good thing—although it turned me on when she was at her bitchiest.

Crazy, I know.

Once served, she leaned away eying me over the rim. Funny enough, I did the same. Not awkward at all.

Nina's gaze lingered on mine, setting fire to my soul. While her body language suggested she wanted to gauge my eyes with a pair of scissors, the emotion in her gaze told me otherwise. There was an astounding level of passion—I'd never seen anyone look at me the way Nina did.

"Listen," she began, cheeks tainted red. "What happened… it…" I stayed silent, making her squirm under my gaze—she was easy to rile up. Biting her lip, she said, "Last night was not supposed to happen—I just… I thought you were going to die. You didn't. Then Phillip—well, it was one of those the-world-is-ending kisses."

A kiss? That hadn't been a kiss, but I wasn't going to aggravate her on it. And if she wanted to act like it meant nothing, fine by me. Something we agreed on.

"Okay," I said coolly. "What are you going to do today?"

Nina blinked, lost at my change of subject. I took a huge gulp of the steaming black coffee. Damn, I needed one more of these.

"Whatever you're doing, I guess." I almost sputtered the thing that was supposed to keep me on my feet.

I set down the jug, "No."

"What? Why not?"

"Because I'm gonna look for things—dangerous things. I don't need a defenseless damsel to worry about."

Her eyes narrowed as she drunk. Great, a fight! Who didn't love fighting in the morning?

"I can make my own choices, Cameron. You're not my boss, you're nothing to me—so you don't get to go all control-freak on me." My lungs took an intake breath. I was nothing to her? Then why the fuck was she wearing the necklace I gave her? Why had she kissed me—oh, wait. I was going to forget that. "Phillip's my friend," she whispered suddenly docile, calm. "I want to help."

"You can help by staying out of my way." I bit out angrily. Why did Phillip make her so… tender? Why was I jealous? My baby bro was in Hell! This was so messed up… and I couldn't keep my mind straight.

I had to get a grip. If she wanted to come, let her. Nina was right. The decision was hers to make—what did I care?

"Fine, do whatever the damn you please." Bending down, I grasped my fallen clothing.

I left her in the kitchen going up to change. I took out fresh black jeans and a navy sweater. I laced up my boots and shook out my hair.

Today was the last day of school—ah, shit. Phillip would have to make up for History next semester. I almost smiled softly; he'd hate that—served him right for doing such a stupid, foolish thing. Once I saw Phill, I was going to beat the living crap out of him.

Yeah, right. I'd probably hug the bastard and put an anklet on him—one that didn't have crossroads in its radius.

But first, I needed to confirm Phillip struck a deal. Then, I could figure out a way of getting his ass back home. I grabbed the leather jacket off my office chair, shrugging it on as I walked down the hall. My keen hearing told me little miss sunshine was—

"What are you doing here?" I spat, whirling.

Raphael stood there in complete angelic splendor. Tamed blond hair, flawless skin, tall and broad—the whole package, like Dawn would say. My fist was itching to cause damage.

Raph's hands were casually dug into the pockets of his faded jeans, "I gather you aren't calmer today."

"Damn straight," I grumbled listening to Nina's light footsteps—she was leaving her bedroom. "Run along and do whatever errand Michael has you doing today. I have important things to deal with." I spun—a gust of wind knocked me into a hallway panel.

My head met the floor dead-on—crack. Ow, that… that stung. Nimbly feeling my skull, I felt silky liquid dripping. Raph was dishing out some tough love, today. It had been a while.

Two could play at that game.

When I rolled over, I saw Nina standing near the staircase. She looked panicked; following her gaze, I saw my fingers. They were coated in a thin layer of blood—mine.

I shifted my gaze over a shoulder as Raph moved closer; no distractions.

"Michael wants you to stop."

"What…?" I asked caught off guard. I wasn't aware I was doing anything.

My pretend-uncle sighed, locking eyes with me. His showed a strong will.

"He doesn't want you to go after Phillip. He wants you to let him go."

Hate ripped out of me like a mauling beast. I zoomed, standing face to face with Raph, and with every last restrain I spoke, "Tell Michael to shove his orders up his ass. I'll get my brother back if it's the last thing I do."

"Cameron—"

To hell with self-control; my hand latched to his throat, fingers squeezing. I focused all of it, all my strained pain and frustration—I watched bruises form, my fingers grew white; I never once stopped.

"Cam!" Until my head whipped to her.

Rookie mistake—my wrist broke under Raphael's strength and I was efficiently kicked aside. No broken ribs, at least. My vision was swimming again; the blow to the head hadn't been healed completely. Crap, going up against an Archangel hadn't been in my plans for today. Sleep deprivation wasn't putting me on the winning side.

"No, stop—both of you!" Nina's yell did nothing to stop Raph. He had orders, he was carrying them out. "Leave him alone, he just wants Phillip back. What's wrong with that?" she was trying to stall.

I climbed to my feet, leaning on a wall willing my healing ability to quicken. The wrist bone cracked, I turned it wincing.

Why did it feel like I was John Connor and Raphael the Terminator?

The head laceration closed—barely—when I lunged for my not-so-dear-uncle. I grazed his cheek, but other than that, nothing. He was pushing me away with air—how did you fight someone who controlled air? It was everywhere!

"Cameron," he used a clipped tone. "Don't make me do this—I don't want to." Yeah, well, last time I checked Angels had free will.

Groaning at the gathering gust, I closed my eyes. They were beginning to water. The air was cold—cutting. I was slammed into another wall. Jesus—what did he want from me? I thought dazedly; but I knew.

He wanted me to let Phillip go so that I'd remain a good little soldier. Not happening.

"You're fine while you have a Nephilim on your team—if I was in Phill's shoes you'd be doing the same thing, wouldn't you?" I grasped a décor table. My eyes locked on his despite the agonizing coldness. "You need a Nephilim…" I mused. "To destroy that weapon—" my gaze darted for the end of the hall. No Nina. I'd stopped feeling her presence a while ago, where was she?

Raph dropped some intensity, his eyes almost pleading for me to understand—only I didn't give a damn about what he wanted.

"What are you going to do?" I held out my arms. "You need me, you can't kill me and nothing you say or do will change my mind about my brother." I boosted, face darkening. "So if your plan is to throw me around 'till I say 'yes' it'll get you nowhere."

"That's not it at all." He avoided me while saying it—just like that I knew what he was going to do. A streak of memories flooded in, none of them good.

He couldn't put me down there… Oh, who was I kidding? Sure he could, and he'd leave me there until I changed my mind.

My arms dropped, I swallowed, "Raph—" a sharp halt in my lungs caused me to sputter—I couldn't breathe. The amount of Power being used was almost palpable. My knees gave out first, my throat burned, airways open—no air came in, though—I glared to see my vision blurry.

Suffocation wouldn't kill me; knock me out in an extremely painful manner? Sure.

Lack of air was winning faster, paired up with my exhausted body. Every time I was close to inhaling—bam. The oxygen ran away. I fell forward, turning my head still wanting to breathe—more memories flashed and in the distance light bulbs burst, glass flew, but air didn't come.

Then there was a hot and cold shiver.

Air suddenly filled my lungs, I was gasping for more. How…?

"Oh my…" I heard Nina whisper from somewhere above. Footfalls came closer; my senses did their best to return to normal—normalish. "Cam?" she put a hand to my shoulder. "Are you okay? Huh, stupid question…" I let her mutter on, getting my oxygen levels normalized.

Nina's hand tilted my face to hers. There it was—the look. Those amber eyes were filled with… adoration. It was so wrong… but I craved it so much.

"What did he do to you?" she whispered helping me sit.

I flickered my gaze around us—Raph was on the floor. Unmoving.

I rubbed a temple; "Better question is… what did you do to him?" was she some super-ninja or something? Geez.

Blood rushed to her cheeks, "I… hmm… remembered what he said yesterday. About how Phillip knocked him out with… huh, some…"

"Bloodroot ash," I filled, sparing her embarrassment.

She nodded, "There was some left on the table…" Nina paused. "I went and got it."

"And?" was all I managed, completely in awe with her quick thinking. Not even I recalled that.

She shrugged meekly, "I just threw it—I wasn't sure what to do. I think it worked…" we both looked Raph's way.

Yup, it worked perfectly.

"That's…" hot, amazing, smart— "That was really well done." I saw her struggling with a happy-dance. "Remind me never to get on your bad side."

"You're number one on the list, Leale." She grinned smugly. I smirked, silver-tongued as always. "What was he doing?" the question was quiet, deep worry lacing her face.

"Sucking the oxygen from me—" her face turned alarmed, eyes wide. "I'm fine, don't worry. Wasn't going to kill me…" my fingers curled and uncurled nervously. "Thank you." That surprised her. It should, I didn't say thank-you often.

"Well, you saved me twice—that's one down. One more and we'll be even."

"Had no idea you were keeping score?" her little smile made my heart kick-up. Nina's small, perfect nose brushed mine—I put some distance, quickly.

I was aware of her following me. I'd picked Raph off the floor, slung him over a shoulder and now, I was throwing him inside the Steel Room, putting the shackles on him. I was certain he wouldn't appreciate the twist when he came to. Not like he could do anything from inside this place.

"What happens when he wakes up?" an antsy Nina piped from the outside.

She refused to set foot in this steel-enforced room; I didn't blame her. If it was up to me, it wouldn't even exist. Crouching near my uncle's slumped body, I searched inside his brown jacket for his Azure Dagger. He wouldn't be needing it and could always get another one—I think. I tucked it in the back pocket of my jeans.

"He won't be able to do a thing," I gave a last look-over pushing the heavy-ass safe door closed. "Those chains are special. Did you see the writing on them?" she gave a nod. "That's Enochian script—the Angels personal language. Those words work as a spell—"

"What spell?" I was just getting there.

"If anyone with Power puts them on, they won't be able to draw on it. They're rendered powerless—as long as the chains stay on." I marched up stairs.

"Oh, that's why he needed you to set him free—wait. Why do you have those in here? I thought nothing bad could come in."

My shoulder line stiffened. Why did she have to ask those questions? She should know that curiosity killed the cat.

"Souvenir," I quickened my pace, entering the parlor. "Listen—" I whirled and Nina collided with my chest. My arms circled her mid-section before she went down on her butt.

We stayed like that for a moment or two; my arms around her, those bright eyes looking into mine. Nina was so relaxed in my hold… I licked my lips.

"I'm listening." She mumbled breaking contact.

I stepped back, "Right. We need to leave."

I waited. She blinked—then did it again, and finally, "Leave? What do you mean?"

"Raph's knocked out and can't get out unless someone lets him. But Michael will eventually turn his all-seeing eyes to us when Raphael doesn't make it back. And when he does, he'll send someone—" I ran a hand through my hair. My chest was bristling with anger. "They'll do anything to keep me from getting Phill. They only need one Nephilim to destroy whatever weapon they want you to find." Nina seemed to shrink smaller hearing the reminder. Oh, crud. I didn't want her scared… but she should be.

"They… that's… that's not right." She shook her head, tawny hair flinging back and forth. "Phillip can't stay in… in Hell—he can't!" I saw tears gleaming and wanted to hold her.

Restraint, my subconscious muttered, it's all about restraint.

Gritting my teeth at it, I smiled softly, "He won't. I'm going to get him out." I stated with conviction. "But we can't stay here. We need to go."

She tucked a loose hair, biting her lip, uncertain. My stomach coiled up; had I just asked a totally defenseless girl to accompany me through Hell? I was crazy—I was trying to get us both killed, I—

"Won't they track us wherever we go?"

I smiled at her boldness, "I've got that covered, Rapunzel." No idiot, say no! Tell her she can't come, it's dangerous, stop being selfish—

"Okay."

Yeah, I was so trying to get us killed.