Veiled (Ada Palomino 1)

“Something is coming,” I yell, trying to get my feet out of the way. “Get the cover on.”

My mother picks it up, about to slide it over when a bloodied hand comes out of the hole, waving at us, trying to grasp the edge.

We both scream.

Then Jay’s head pops up, gulping in air.

With ease he pulls himself out of the manhole and quickly takes the cover from my mom, flashing her an apologetic smile before sliding it on.

There is too much to take in, too much to say. I hold my temples and rock on my heels, trying to put reality back together.

“Are you sure that will hold them?” my mother asks. “They’ve used it before.”

“Reinforcements will be here,” he says. He glances at me but I only stare back blankly. He looks back to my mother and holds out his hand, bloodied and all. “By the way, I’m Jay.”

My mother takes it. “I know,” she says with an approving smile, giving it a shake. “I’m Ingrid.” She looks around her which in turn makes me finally take in my surroundings. The place on the other side of Hell.

It’s downtown Portland. The Pearl district.

Early morning it seems. Not a soul stirring except for us, which is good since the three of us just came out from the sewer.

The smells—the river, the urine, the trees—nothing has never smelled so sweet.

Air has never felt so fucking good.

“I hate to complain,” my mother tells him. “But I don’t quite belong here either.” She gives me a sympathetic look. “Pumpkin, I wish I didn’t have to leave you in the end, especially after all this, but this isn’t home. I have a home. And I have someone waiting for me.”

Pippa.

I nod. I know.

It’s tragic all over again.

But I know.

“Come with me,” Jay says. He takes her a few feet away from me and waves his hand at the air until it wavers. A sight so familiar to me now. So many veils. So many layers. So many worlds.

“We’ll go in together,” he tells her. He looks to me. “You stay there. Jacob is on his way.”

But I want to go too.

I almost say it but I know my mom wouldn’t allow it. It just hurts so much to lose her all over again.

“You saved me, Ada,” she says to me. “Don’t forget that. I won’t.”

I can’t even speak in response. Everything in me is choking in grief. I know it’s best if she leaves right away, that it’s the safest thing for her, but part of me hoped that she could spend some time with me here. Maybe even in the Veil. That we could be with each other, as mother and daughter, as friends, for just a little bit longer. Part of me thinks this is over too soon. Just a few more days, a few more hours, a few more minutes.

Please.

But I should be so grateful that I got any time at all. And I am. Most people don’t get this chance.

But it still kills me all the same.

She’s about to step through with Jay when she comes over, grabs my face and kisses me on the forehead.

“I love you,” she tells me. “And I’ll be back to make sure you remember.”

The tears cloud my vision. She steps into the Veil with Jay—it glows brighter than the sun—and then they are gone and I’m alone.

All alone on an empty Portland street.

With Hell right below me.

And demons at the door.

“Not anymore.”

I spin around and see Jacob standing on top of the manhole.

There’s no point asking where he came from. He sifted in here like the best of them. Probably could have used his help in Hell though.

You did okay, princess, Jay’s disembodied voice comes through my head, like it’s lifted up a sheet of the Veil. Then it’s gone.

I wave my hand dismissively at Jacob and sit down on the curb. I stare dumbly at the bricks on the street, trying to find some sanity in them.

Jacob sits down beside me. “It will take you time to process what happened. For most people I’d say ignorance is bliss but not you. You’ll take what you saw and you will learn from it. And you will be stronger.”

“Jay should be back,” I say feebly. “He has my mother.”

“He took your mother home, where she belongs, where she’s happy,” he says. “He’s her guide for a short while. We’ll call this a loaner.”

“But he will be back, won’t he?” I pause. “As himself?”

He nods. “One would hope so.” He gets up and pulls me to my feet. “Dawn and Sage are on their way over to take you home. I have to stay here and really make sure this bloody thing is sealed.” He sighs. “Such a thankless job, really.” He gestures to the street, the buildings, the one old man walking in the distance. “If people only knew the trouble we go through to keep the world safe . . .”