Infernal

Nina's POV

Courtney was good. That's evaluation I'd done so far. She was nothing like Raphael, drilling orders with no regard for feelings.

After Cameron retold our last few months, the Vampire's eyes had been filled with empathy. Somewhere between Cam's heavy words Courtney had slid closer reaching to stroke his hair.

It was so strange I denied seeing it, at first.

I had never seen someone comfort Cameron—besides me—and he hadn't pulled away. Not immediately, anyway.

"You should've come here before going to Danvers," she'd said. "I would've dropped everything, Cameron... Didn't you think I'd help?" Courtney had sounded hurt then.

"This is my problem, Rory. I didn't want to involve you—"

"This does concern me, sweets. Phillip and you are like family—I love you both. I want to be involved," she'd sighed quietly before getting a look I couldn't read. "I think I know someone who can help."

"With the Gate?"

"Yes, and with guiding us through Hell." Cameron had been ready to argue about her going—one stern look from Rory had him mumbling in a corner.

Nice.

"Why do we need a guide? Haven't you ever been there?"

"No," she'd shrugged like it wasn't a big deal. "Just because I'm a Vampire doesn't mean I have to cross that bridge. Even in Hell there's hierarchy, Cameron, Vampires aren't exactly at the top."

"But you're three-hundred years old—" my eyes bulged. She didn't look a day over twenty-four. "You were never curious?"

"Why would anyone be curious about a place where they drag humans and other species for torture?"

Those had been my exact thoughts. Emotions had passed Cameron's face as quick shadows.

Thinking about it now, I wondered if he actually wanted to jump head first into Hell pulling off an Indiana Jones.

"Can we talk?" my eyes lifted from a random MTV show we'd been staring at for the past twenty minutes.

I turned my body towards him, tucking my legs underneath me. "We need to talk" was never good.

"Listening," I wasn't sure why I was whispering, Rory had gone back down.

Cam looked coiled—more than before when he'd walked Courtney through everything.

"We need to talk about what Phillip saw when he went to get your brother."

My mouth clenched. Cameron had told about the fire quickly not sparing a single detail. I couldn't find words to thank him, but it was alright, I knew he could tell how grateful I was.

"What about it...?" I asked, aware that my voice broke at the end. I vaguely remembered thinking they'd known something I hadn't at the time.

"When he went in... he looked in every room. Including yours." He shifted. "He saw something there," Cameron's pause made me hold my breath. "It was a mark drawn on your window. An inverted pentagram." Pain morphed into rage and his gaze took over mine. "That's the Fallen's symbol. They left it in our old house when they burned it to the ground." Shaking myself out, I inched closer.

"Why did they leave it on my window? It wasn't like we didn't suspect it was them—"

Cameron sighed like I wasn't seeing the big picture.

"That's not it, Nina. They don't leave their mark because they want you to know they did it, it's a warning."

Cam tilted his head reaching for a lock of hair, rubbing it between his thumb and forefinger. I felt his caress before his skin brushed my cheek, felt the heat rush from toe-to-head before he leaned close enough to make me sway.

"A warning for what?" Now I knew exactly why I was whispering. I was afraid to jolt him away.

"To let you know they're coming." My breath rushed out like I'd been karate kicked in the chest. "It means they want you. You weren't home—they knew that—they burned it to prove a point. They'll kill the people you love—no matter who it is—until you're left with nothing, nowhere to hide."

Jumping from the U shaped couch like a wild-cat I shook my head furiously.

"What... but... but why? I haven't done anything, Cameron—and my family they had nothing to do with any of this crap—!" I yelled for whoever wanted to hear, feeling my chest heave chocked breaths.

As he rose from the seat, he reminded me why I thought he was a Prince—grace became him. Breathing tiredly, Cam cupped my face, thumbs pressing gently.

"It's what they do, Nina, they're cruel and immoral." Sooty lashes dropped, hiding the obsidian eyes for five seconds that felt like hours of torture. "There's more you should know... When we stayed at the motel something happened." More? I was barely containing the oil-spill of tears and there was more? "Someone got inside my head when we were asleep—remember when I woke up?"

"That was real...? I thought I'd dreamed it up."

A tiny smirk perked, "Dream about me often, do you? I can't say that's a shocker—"

"Cameron!" I knew what he was trying to do. My heart felt two secs away from imploding, I couldn't handle his suave flirting. "No distracting. Tell me what happened—now."

His grin shimmered out. His hands never did and so, I covered them with mine, silently building a bridge between us.

"Someone got inside my head and they... they trapped me inside a dream they were manipulating." Seeing my eyes inflate like an about-to-pop-balloon he explained quietly, "It's called dream manipulation. It's the ability to breach into someone's mind and twist their dreams. It only works when the person's asleep and until you figure out it's not real or the person releases you, you'll be trapped. An illusion is different, it happens when you're awake and it doesn't stray from reality, that's why it's harder to escape one."

I didn't care about the spotty differences between both abilities—I cared that he'd been trapped in a warped reality. What if he hadn't been able to break out? Oh my God, I'd gone back to sleep thinking he was alright!

I squeezed his hands so hard my fingers turned white.

"Hey, hey," he soothed. My eyes were betraying me, shining too brightly. "Nothing happened—I'm here, we're talking—I'm alright." I bit down my lip trying to nod at his reassurance, Cameron brushed hair from my face.

Still gripping his other hand, I swallowed a heavy sob, blinking measured times.

"How... how did they get into your head—who did—what did they want—"

"Nina," he admonished cocking his head to mine. "I have no idea who it was—probably a Fallen—" Cam paused. "Or a Cambion."

"Okay, but how did they find us?"

"They wouldn't need to, not if they had a connection to me. Phillip for one." His face became sullen. "Him and me have this connection, like I feel him on the other side, he feels me—"

"Did you see Phillip? Is he okay...?" my voice squeaked to a stop as Cam gave another warning glare. "Sorry,"

"No, I didn't see him. But it's possible they got to me through him and they said..." he hesitated. "They said they could get him back for me if..."

An inner turmoil rushed his eyes like an F5 tornado, throwing everything in a warpath. He put a step between us, turning his face.

Hiding.

Feeling that strength inside me pulsing—the kind only Cameron awakened—I strode up to him, jerking his chin to face me. I held it there with some God-given force, gaze burning into his complicated labyrinthic walls.

"Tell me," I murmured. His jaw muscles barely relaxed under my finger-pads. "Tell me, Cameron. Tell me now." I keenly converted each word into an order, my voice sounded too secure to be my own.

Things only this one boy ripped out of me.

Eyes yielding, Cam shook life into himself.

"They wanted you in return for Phillip." My lips parted but I couldn't find the room to gasp. "Of course I didn't buy it, I could give them my weight in gold they'd still not give my brother back—Nina?"

"They wanted me...?" Cam nodded stiffly. My hand slumped, dropping at my side. "They wanted to trade me for Phillip and you didn't agree?" I looked at him like he'd just sprouted wings. "Why would you do that, you could've... Phillip... Why—?"

He tapped a finger with overflowing calmness to a spot on my neck, I could feel blood pumping there, racing for the heart—keeping me alive.

"For someone so smart, you can be really stupid sometimes." I had no time to rebuke—Cameron tipped my head up, the fierce edges of his cheeks melted me and I wanted to forget every little, big problem. Give in to my Prince of Darkness. "Giving you up for Phillip wasn't debatable when they suggested, it's not now, it will never be. It's not an option—it just isn't." He closed his eyes. "Maybe they want you to find that weapon Raphael talked about, it's gotta be powerful," he shrugged a shoulder. "As long as you're with me, though, no one will hurt you. I promise."

I stood in complete idiocy. Cameron had had the chance to get Phillip back—he'd shot it down for me. All the while, I felt like the thing everyone wanted—the thing worth killing four members of my family over.

I wanted to cry, wanted to tear something apart with my bare hands. There was a pressure building in my chest, begging to be let out or else it would kill me. Feeling my Nokia in my pocket, I pulled on it.

Maybe talking to Henry would help. Maybe...

***

Cam's POV

Luna di Sangue was pumping with life. Just like I remembered. But I wasn't feeling in the mood for drinking absurd quantities of alcohol, or hustle at pool—or even flirt with the southern girl that had been trying to grip the tiniest inch of my attention.

My mind was somewhere else. Same place as my eyes.

Courtney snuck up on me like a fox on a hunt wearing a sleeveless chambray. I couldn't tell where the guys were peeking first, the slight V or the uncovered belly button.

"Just friends, huh?" I would've rolled my eyes, but I couldn't lose Nina from sight.

I rested my elbows on the counter, leaning back lazily.

"She's underage, you know. Shouldn't have poured her all those shots."

Courtney waved a hand with a 'meh', "You were fourteen when I gave you your first taste at it—you turned out fine." She tapped her chin, pensive. "Could be because you can't lose brain cells over it."

"Could be," I agreed chucking down beer—argh, it'd been sitting here for hours, it was pissing warm. "I don't think she's ever done shots before." Or any illegal drinking, for that matter.

I finished off my awful beverage anyhow, and focused back on Nina's twirling motions. She was off on the small dance floor; the speakers were pouring some R&B and she was hitting the notes, flaying from time to time.

"You could go dance with her. At least then you wouldn't look like Scooby-Doo on a withdrawal from Scooby Snacks." Over my shoulder, I shot a dragged out glare. "Broody," I did roll my eyes. I wasn't brooding. I didn't brood. "You're allowed to have fun once in a life-time."

"My brother's in Hell, sorry if I'm not feeling like celebrating." I muttered.

"It's not celebrating, Cam. It's loosening up, it wasn't your fault—" I tuned out. It was my fault. Every time something bad happened to my family it was always my fault. I was bad. "Honestly, he'll still be there, beating yourself up won't magically bring Phill to Earth."

Gluing my eyes to hers, I made them all big and child-like.

"Won't it?" I feigned innocence. "I always believed in unicorns and rainbows—so maybe, maybe if I'm a well behaved guy, Santa will rescue him!"

Rory gave a dirty eye for my sense of humor. I shrugged, not giving a flying—

I listened to Rory's snicker but didn't care. I flew off the stool and headed into the sea of bodies. Not because I wanted to dance, not because Nina was smiling like she didn't have a care in the world—because she was dancing with a guy.

With a hat.

What was he afraid of? Getting a halogen burn?

People blended together, the red ceiling lights swished from person to person and bodies smacked into mine, but I never lost my target. Short girl, curvy, wearing a skinny sweater, tight jeans and Converse.

Nina had been all sorts of hysterical after our little heart-to-heart. It made me wish I hadn't said a thing about the mark on her window or the manipulated dream. Her mood had only worsened when she dialed Henry and no one answered—again. Then she'd tried talking about family—finally opening up like she should—but I'd been a total ass saying I wasn't one of her girlfriends who shared feels.

She'd raced down here and I couldn't blame her.

I almost flung a girl with braids out of my path. It was her fault for standing between Nina's arm and my reaching hand. Above the music I heard a clear 'jackass' and smirked at her, Texan Girl flipped me off.

Back on track, I lashed my fingers around the slim, weightless wrist. Golden eyes were thrown open wide, glazed and unfocused. She was a fucking lightweight this one, should've known. Her mommy hadn't been supportive of sleeping pills, couldn't imagine she'd been okay with Californian raves and booze.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Blinking several times to get rid of her spinning vision, Nina cocked her head, then split her face in the biggest smile I'd ever seen. Didn't look like she was angry anymore—because her smiling like that... I wanted her to smile like that all the time.

"Cam!" she got around to disentangle her waist from Hat Prat and came barreling at my chest. "Hi," she mumbled happy as a clam, not shrinking from my destructive gaze one bit. "Why are you spinning like that? Is that a thing—like a power or something? No... wait, all the room's going around..." Nina giggled.

Sweet Mother—it was a miracle she was standing, little alone dancing.

"Think you better sit down, Rapunzel—" I'd been ready to let things slide with the douche, even the ass-grabbing I'd seen.

It all blew up when Nina was tugged back—towards him.

"Hey, man, go get your own drunk sorority chick!" He drawled loudly above a heavy beat.

Sorority—! I took a looksie at the ocean of peeps. They weren't much older than us, and there were more hats on heads then their mothers. Hmm, did I say that right? Maybe I was getting drunk by association.

"Get lost before I shove my foot up your ass." I gritted with low, fervent anger.

The College jock wanted nothing more than to rumble and I would gladly have given him the beating of his life, but Nina was here. Drunk. She could get hurt in the middle of all these idiots, or worse.

"Yo, dude, be cool—there's enough of them to..." the buddy's words were killed by a girl's tongue slipping down his throat.

Felt like an orgy here.

Nina wasn't happy now. Her hands slapped at Hat Guy's hold, when that didn't work her tiny nails dug down deep—with a yelp, she was propelled towards me. My arms wrapped her safely on impact. The scent of raspberry shampoo hit me in the middle of all the sweat and liquor.

Red neon flashed across my face and I gave the guy a menacing expression, "Better go back to Wonderland, Hatter wants his hat back." My blood spiked with a tiny spark of Power and I saw the guy's hands flinch like he'd been shocked.

Whoops.

There was a hiss as he rubbed his wrists, Hatter-rip-off wasn't having Happy Hour. Too effin bad.

I managed to pull us outside the crowd, heading for a vacant table—I slapped Nina's hand when she reached for a stranger's beer.

"You have no idea where that's been!"

Making a face, she pushed the bottle away.

"Tasted like cigarettes..." a giggle broke the disgust. "I tasted an ashtray!"

Nowhere in my mind was that something to be overjoyed with. Guess you really needed to be drunk to enjoy certain things. Stuff like a College guy's sweaty hands all over you.

"I've never done this before,"

"What?"

"Drinking," her head bobbed out of pace to the song.

"Ah. So you've danced with total strangers before?" I snapped.

Nina looked the tinniest bit startled before her hands found my hips, latching on. I couldn't imagine shoving her away if she was sober, much less when she was out-of-the-park-tipsy.

"Nope," the word popped on her lips. "Why didn't you join me? Huh?" her head tipped back with a dazed smile.

Because not one hour ago she'd wanted to run me through with a saw. A finger stabbed the middle of my pecs.

"You're never in the mood for nothing—only to be an ass." Her cheek touched my arm. "Can we drink some more...? I liked that thing in the little glasses... Oh! And the lemon—"

"No," I gritted. "No more tequila—no more drinks."

"Fine," she sulked for a sec—perking like a sunflower when the sun rose from the East. "Let's play a game!" Sure, just give me a minute while I go bang my head into solid rock.

"Okay," Itook her hips as she bounced on the ball of her feet. "Rapunzel, can you spot the craziest drunk in the bar?"

Nina staggered into me, snipping looks everywhere, giggling as she looked at me.

"Nope," her head shook. "Is it you?" she slurred biting her lip.

"No, lovebird. Wanna know why you can't spot that person?" she was hanging on my every word. Taking the opportunity, I led her down the room. "It's because you're it."

Nina decided to stop being cooperative. She gave me a strong push catching me off guard—something she was very good at—my back rammed into a door. We stumbled into the ladies room. Oh goody, I was on Mars.

"I'm not crazy—and... and we're supposed to not talk. I'm angry at you—you were mean." She said, repeating the stabbing finger. "Meanie,"

Meanie?

I shook some hair aside, "Sure. Whatever rocks your socks. Tell you what, you can be mad at me upstairs—"

"Why? I'm having fun, aren't you having fun?" I doubted she was going to have fun in the morning.

"Seeing you flounce around, dancing with guys you don't know, isn't exactly my idea of a good time." I kept my anger at bay—most of it. "It's time to leave."

Nina pushed back on me, this was getting us nowhere.

"You're bossy," she whined setting her chin on my chest, glancing up with a childlike pout.

"You're short." I narrowed my eyes at the silly smile breaking loose on Nina's features. "You've had fun, Nina, let's—"

"I like your eyes," my mouth stopped moving. "No. I way more than like your eyes. They're so... not pretty... unique. Does that make sense? It does to me."

"Huh... thanks." My face was reddening.

Nina's fingers ran up my hand, holding it between us. I could feel every shred of will leaving as her head tilted. Golden eyes dropped on my face.

"I like more things," she whispered. "Being with you. I like that... makes me happy..." her voice was still low and I made a step back. She followed. "You're cute when you get nervous." Nina bit her thumbnail flirtatiously.

My back met a cubicle wall.

No way out. I wasn't sure I wanted to escape. My mind was split. Nina was always hot to me. To anyone. She was a hell of a bombshell. But... she'd never been this forward.

Was this all alcohol or did she have some control?

"...when you smile."

"What?" I felt like a baffled kid around her. Nina was smiling like the luckiest person on Earth.

"Cam," she leaned her head to my shoulder. "Cameron," Nina's palmed down my shirt, it was slower in its ascent. "Cam..." those apple-red lips grazed my neck as she stood on her toes. "I like your name. A lot. It's so you." That would've made my mom radiant. "I love saying it..." And I loved the way she said it.

She raised my hand, holding it palm-up with both her small hands. Our eyes met, connected and in a heartbeat I knew what she was going for. Her mouth pressed against my wrist, I could feel my pulse taking a wild turn.

"Nina," I moaned like an out-of-control thirteen year old. "You're drunk—"

Nina kissed along my palm—oh, I was going to lose it in a bathroom. In my alleged aunt's bar. What could I do when she was sucking my index finger?

"Too bad you can't get drunk," she came up smiling cutely. "Problems?" Nina made a puffing sound giggling. "Went all away—it's like magic!"

A few minutes of staring into each other's faces, some drunkenness faded, her body relaxed. She kissed my neck, then stopped teasing. Nina simply rested on me. My arm wrapped the perfect curves, my hand stroke the tawny waves feeling her breathing turn normal.

Cheek nuzzling into my chest, she whispered, "Cam," I chuckled, thinking she was going on a loop saying my name all over.

"We better get out of here before someone walks in." Before Rory walked in all gooey and dropped the romantic crap on me. "Come on, I'll carry you if I have to."

"Cam..." this time her voice broke and she shoved me, running inside cubicle.

Oh bloody...

I crouched behind her, making a quick ponytail of her long hair. My nose twitched when her body lurched forward. Puke was not a turn on. It burned my nostrils.

"It'll be okay," I mumbled. "Let it all out. You'll feel a lot better afterward." Or so I'd been told.

I cut a piece of toilet paper and when her shoulders stopped arching in spasms, I turned her face softly to me—she fought.

"No... it's gross."

"Rapunzel, I've been covered in blood and guts, I don't think vomit will send me packing." I saw her repressing a sad chuckle. Her eyes didn't leave the tiled floor as I wiped her mouth corners.

I helped Nina off her knees. She stumbled to the row of sinks and I kept a hold on her shoulders while she splashed water onto her face.

"Time for bed—come on." I edged for the door.

Nina hung on my hands, "Are you giving me a curfew... or something?" she garbled, tittering at my sigh. Still drunk. "I'm a legal adult," she hugged my arm quietly, looking like she was putting two and two together. "I'm a month older than you!"

I jerked my eyes from hers in a stupid attempt to hide embarrassment. She was right, we were practically a month apart.

"Piggyback ride!" my head swung her way showing a clear WTF look. Nina tugged on me, all bouncy and excited. "I want a piggyback—" You had to be kidding me. What was I supposed to say to that?

"To your room?" If it would get her upstairs safe and sound, I'd take it.

"Hmm," Nina mussed, face frowning. "Will it make you happy?"

I stared at her. No giggles or flirty smiles. Aside from a bit of swaying, no one would tell she'd drowned four shots of tequila plus some dude's leftover beer.

"Yes," I murmured softly.

"Okay." She smiled ear-to-ear.

I shook my head. There went the sober moment.

I crouched so she could climb on. Her arms wrapped securely around my neck when I gave her a shove—getting her higher—and held her thighs strongly. Nina's hold on me let up as I made it out the bathroom. I took fast steps not wanting to see anyone's face. I went behind the counter and avoided Courtney's I-knew-there-was-something-going-on-between-you gaze. Paired with a beaming smile.

I took the upstairs door; each step I made, Nina hollered with glee. Sounded like riding me was better than a looping rollercoaster. Once I got to the long, narrow blue hall I was very much aware of Nina's mouth kissing behind my ear, or stroking her nose along my hair.

"Cam?" she whispered, blowing a breath over my tanned skin. "Why don't you talk about your parents...?"

Surprise hit home.

I said nothing while lowering the petite girl so she could hop off. Nina followed beside me—on wobbly legs—to the guest room where she'd put her stuff in, earlier.

She plopped on bed pulling me along. I scrambled to the far side of bed, watching her tucking her head against the pillow. Didn't look like she was going to put effort into changing.

"Are you going to go?"

Yes. No. I should. Didn't want to, though. Being on a bed with Nina caused my brain to lose every moral. The ones I still had.

"Stay a little...?" her lashes batted sleepily. Wouldn't take long before she was fast asleep. The problem was, if I stayed a while I wasn't sure I'd be able to leave afterwards.

"You should change," Nina looked down at herself kicking off her shoes as if saying 'there'.

"So, why don't you?" I blinked. "I know you lost them—Phillip lost them too, but he talks about them... he doesn't lash out like a rabid dog."

"I'm not a dog," I settled into the mattress keeping distance, turning on my side to look at her. "Because I'm not a chick with a heart heavy with feelings. I don't need to get them out there—that's for softhearted people. Like my brother. I think he keeps a diary with all his thoughts and shit."

Even under the effects of tequila, Nina could roll her eyes at me. Good to know. "Right, Cam, you have no feelings. You're a stonewall." She mocked and my temper flared, making my molars grind. "I may be out of it... I'm pretty sure you were jealous downstairs. Think that's a feeling."

Sighing, I turned on my back.

"That guy could've been something nasty—did you think about that?"

"Wuss," she sang.

I grunted, "Damn, woman, why is it so important that I talk about my parents? They're dead—they've been dead for seven years now." I felt guilt pool up under my defenses. I shut it off. " Talking and remembering won't bring them back from the grave." It wasn't like Phillip felt kosher talking about them—if you asked me, he was a masochist.

Nina was quiet for the longest time. Then, very subtly, she edged closer. My body tensed.

"Talking about things helps," Nina whispered. "Shutting it off doesn't make the problems and pain go away—no matter how much you try to push it down. Right?" A chainsaw cut through me. I could handle flirty, not the blues. "You don't want to talk about your parents... or when you were kidnapped... or about that... that body I saw in the vision—" my throat clamped shut like I had a severe peanut allergy. "I wanted to talk about mine, Cam. I needed someone—you're here—I thought I could tell you."

Her jaw clenched making me that much of a jerk. Nina curled up still a foot away from me. Bangs of wavy hair toppled over her nose, I eased them away.

"Why do you act nice one second—promising to keep me safe—and... and turn into a prick the next?"

The way her lip curled—in a soft, trembling curve—told me she could burst in tears if I said the wrong thing. So, I pushed the defense mechanism to push her away and let my heart take over.

"Sleep, lovebird." I ran two fingers down her cheek biting my lip when her lids lowered. "I'll be right here until you do." Then I'd be off.

"...what if I didn't sleep...?"

I shivered at the soft smile she bestowed upon me. I so didn't deserve this kind of appreciation. And Nina knew—she knew I was avoiding her questions.

She was right, I was being a wuss.

"I'd stay all night long,"

She held on for as long as she could, mumbling nonsense and some plain incoherent stuff. As I watched her drifting, I prayed she didn't think of all the shit flying around. About Angels and Fallens wanting her for her special power, about Cambions tearing me apart and Phillip getting himself locked up. I hoped none of her memories were of her family burning inside a locked tight house.

Or of me being a fucktard.

I wanted her to be weightless in her dreams because I knew that in a few days, we'd be a step closer to Hell.

Promise complete, I rolled from under her grasping hand—forcing a pillow under her arm. She didn't budge. It caused a genuine smile to break out; leaning down, I placed a soft-feathered kiss on her brow.

"I'm sorry I keep hurting you..." I whispered by the door, throwing a last longing gaze at her curled form.

She was so good and pure... I was so tainted and more damned than she could ever imagine. And if she ever found out, she'd never look me in the eye again.