Highway to Hail

By Sierra Dean

Messing with time has consequences.

Tallulah Corentine turned back time itself to save her sister Sunny's life, but in doing so she also erased the one perfect night she spent with the man she loves. Now, the bad luck priest Cade Melpomene has a question or two about some dreams he's been having. Explaining that would be hard enough, but Tallulah's got her hands full as Charon, the ferryman of the dead, is staking his claim on Sunny, and a charlatan storm god is stirring up trouble for Seth in Texas.

Can Tallulah undo the damage done by the false god, and also save her relationship with Cade? Can she convince Charon it's not Sunny's time, without losing her sister forever?

One way or the other, it's going to be a hell of a ride.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bryant Street Publishing
• Release date: Dec 20, 2022
• ISBN: 9781094451596

Sierra Dean

Sierra Dean is the kind of adult who forgot she was supposed to grow up. She spends most of her days making up stories, and most of her evenings watching baseball or playing video games. She lives in Winnipeg, Canada with two temperamental cats and one sweet tempered dog. When not building new worlds, she can be found making cupcakes and checking Twitter.

Book preview

CHAPTER

ONE

NOW

My car engine rumbled as I stared down the edge of the road ahead of me.

Glowing red embers burned, and shimmering lines of heat rose from the melting asphalt. Beside me, the End of the Road Motel had its lights out, and its simple neon sign was off. I was the only person here, which was precisely the way I wanted it.

The air was orange red, and lightning crackled in the clouds overhead.

On the dash, the clock switched from 1:59 to 2:00AM, and my heart stuttered. It was time to go, but my feet were planted firmly to the carpeted floorboard in front of the pedals. At my side, my giant-eared fennec sidekick Fenrir made a small pip noise, his tail slashing back and forth with manic excitement.

I wished I could have left him at home.

Funny thing about being connected to your animal familiar though, if you’re going to risk your life doing something stupid, it’s best to have them along for the ride.

Literally, in this case.

Go. Go, you idiot.

I had less than a minute now. I was wasting precious seconds.

My mind flashed to Cade, thinking of his dour expression the last time I saw him, and how much he hated this stupid plan. Almost as much as I hated it.

I took a deep breath and lifted my leaden foot, then dropped it heavily on the gas. The Mustang’s engine roared, but I didn’t move. I removed my foot from the gas, grumbling, Amateur hour. I had left the car in park. Shifting to the appropriate gear, I gritted my teeth and hammered on the gas once again.

This time the car rocketed forward too quickly, and I was thrown back in my seat, the pressure of speed pushing me into the soft leather. In the passenger seat, Fen had managed to keep his feet under him, but he had slid back into the deepest part of the bucket.

On either side of the road, burned-black trees crumbled to ash, and the rolling red clouds closed in on me. Heat filled the car, and soon the leather seats felt as hot as if it were a sunny day in July. Sweat beaded my forehead and streaked down my cheek. Fen gave a whine, obviously not liking the way things were progressing.

I’m sorry, buddy. I don’t like it either. It was hard to get the words out. It was too hot, and I was going too fast. There was no way to stop now. We were going right off the edge.

Typically, unless you’re recreating the final scene of Thelma and Louise, a road doesn’t have an edge, but this was hardly what I would consider a typical situation.

This was definitely the road less traveled by.

If I’d planned this better, I would have had some AC/DC blaring right now.

As if on cue, the radio snapped on, and the familiar beat of one of their classic rock hits started thumping through the speakers. It wasn’t surprising so much—there was almost always an AC/DC cassette in the deck—but considering I hadn’t touched the power button, it was a little unusual.

Maybe Hades had a sense of humor.

The chorus kicked in, and an involuntary smirk ticked up the corner of my lip. I glanced at Fen, and he looked back like he was trying to say, What are you so happy about, lady?

I stepped down harder on the gas, and at the top of my lungs shouted out, in my best Angus Young impression, "I’m on a highway to hellllll."

And then we went over the edge.

CHAPTER

TWO

EIGHT DAYS AGO

The small space in between my building’s front door and the lobby entrance was filled with the smell of spring rolls, and the heat radiating between Cade Melpomene and me was causing the glass to fog up.

Okay, maybe that was normal in Seattle with the rain falling outside, but I chose to believe it had something to do with our simmering chemistry.

Let me have this.

I stared at him, hardly believing the words he’d spoken.

I keep having this dream.

See, here’s the thing. About a month ago I managed to successfully save the world—you’re welcome—but in order to do so I had to reverse time. And in doing that I was able to save my sister’s life, but it also meant undoing my one perfect night in bed with Cade.

We’d been dancing around each other for years, and I had been absolutely certain it was a chance we would never have, in spite of how often our work brought us together.

It had been...amazing was an understatement.

It had shaken me to the very foundation of my being.

And by undoing it, he wasn’t supposed to remember anything.

Except here he was, with his gruff, stubbly face, and that once-broken nose that maybe should have looked ugly, and his stupid, wonderful body, and he was telling me he had been dreaming about me.

About us.

In our line of work, consorting with others like us wasn’t only frowned upon, it was outright forbidden. We were meant to be the worldly vessels of our gods. We were supposed to stay pure, whatever the fuck that meant.

I am here to tell you that it is very, very hard for attractive people with superpowers to keep their hands off each other, forbidden or not.

Like now, for instance, where the only thing stopping me from lunging at Cade was the bag of Chinese takeout in my hand.

I take my spring rolls very seriously.

He stared at me with a mix of amusement and confusion, and it occurred to me I’d been gawking at him a long while without actually saying anything. While a million words bubbled up at the back of my throat desperate to come out in an all-at-once rush, the only ones I managed to use with any clarity were, Do you want to come upstairs?

The thinnest hint of a smile curled up the corner of his mouth.

Cade’s stoicism would make Clint Eastwood proud.

I would like that very much. Can I take that bag from you?

I clutched the takeout tighter, recognizing my flimsy composure genuinely couldn’t handle idle hands. He’d had dreams, sure. And we had absolutely kissed in moments he would remember. All that said, I was pretty sure he’d be alarmed if I tried to climb him like Everest right then.

Seth help me, this night was going to kill me.

He had come here for answers, not to repeat our forgotten tryst. I had to keep telling myself that.

I opened the inner door with my key, and he followed me to the elevator where I mashed myself into one corner of the small metal box to avoid any possibility of touching him.

Of course, we exited at the exact same time, and his big shoulder brushed mine on the way out.

My legs damn near turned to jelly.

Inside my big apartment, the view was obscured by sheets of gray rain, turning the Seattle skyline to a haze. I set the takeout on the counter in my kitchen, then looked back to see Cade wandering through the living room.

It felt so unbelievably right and normal to see him in my space that I’d forgotten he had never seen any of this previously. Whenever we’d met up in the past we had been at shady roadside motels—my favorite thing. No sarcasm. The weirder the name and the more questionable the desk clerk, the more likely I was to stay at one.

Fenrir lifted his head from his place on the couch, big ears like satellite dishes listening for any signs he should be worried about the sudden appearance of a large man in our private domain. He sniffed the air, and upon realizing this was no stranger at all, put his head down and returned to his nap.

It was a good thing he was a familiar and not a guard fennec, because he would be utterly useless as the latter.

Cade was scanning my eclectic art collection, and as he looked past the big neon T I had hung on one wall—a prize from a bankrupt motel, naturally—his eyes drifted down the hall to where the blankets were twisted on my unmade bed.

I swallowed hard.

Do you often visit people because of your dreams? I had hoped it would sound cool and sultry, but my voice cracked in the middle, so I sounded like a horny, terrified teenager instead.

That’s the thing, Tallulah. I don’t tend to dream much. Ever. He stopped staring at my bed, and while that might have seemed like an improvement, it meant his attention was now solely focused on me, and I found I couldn’t bear the weight of it.

I considered sitting on the couch, but then he might sit next to me, and it would absolutely undo every remaining tatter of composure I had.

No, standing here like an idiot was probably my best option.

He took a step towards me.

No, stop that.

I didn’t manage to say the words out loud, but there must have been something in my expression that told him I wasn’t ready for that particular move yet. He stopped and stayed where he was.

There was about six feet between us, but I could smell his skin, and the way the drying rain added a little something extra to a scent that was decidedly and uniquely his.

My hands trembled.

And you think what...this was a vision? A premonition?

His thin smile returned, and gods help me, he even blushed a smidge. If it was a premonition, I welcome it, but no. This was more than a dream. This was a memory. But it was a memory of something I don’t remember happening. And I would like to believe I’d remember every second of something like that.

We stared at each other.

I realized a moment too late that if I’d wanted to deny knowing what he was talking about, I should have asked him what had happened in his dream.

It was too late now.

My silence had spoken volumes. As had, I’m sure, the creeping heat across my cheeks.

Cade nodded to himself, his unasked question finding its answer. So, do you want to tell me why it is I don’t remember it?

I glanced over at the door, wondering if I might be able to make a break for it rather than have this deeply awkward conversation. Nope, the way Cade was positioned he would be able to stop me the second I started moving.

Because it didn’t actually happen. I raised my shoulder in a half shrug then let it fall. It did…but then it didn’t.

His smile faded as quickly as it had come. I knew the answer wasn’t satisfying, but the thing was, I wasn’t sure the truth would be any better. He deserved to know the whole story, and gods knew I wanted to finally be able to share it with someone else, but it didn’t quite seem appropriate to burden him with it.

And yet, that nagging voice in the back of my head—the same one that often told me I was about to do something very stupid—was pestering me now to open up. It was saying I should tell him the whole story.

But that would require some booze first.

Do you want a beer? I asked.

Cade looked like he might protest, like he wanted to remind me what he’d come here for. But to be perfectly honest I don’t think even he knew entirely why he’d come. To find the truth, sure. But more? Who knew?

Okay.

Once I’d walked away from him, he sat on the couch, careful to avoid the throw pillow Fenrir had claimed as his own. The fennec didn’t move or make a peep even as the couch sank under Cade’s muscular weight.

See, useless familiar.

I went to the fridge, which wasn’t quite as pathetically barren as it sometimes was, and grabbed two cold Rooftop beers and returned to the couch. I was hesitant to sit near him, but the initial wave of red-hot anticipation had faded. Being confronted with telling someone an intimate secret about themselves will go a long way to bringing you back to reality.

How precisely did you tell someone, We definitely had sex, but also I had to reverse time, so we didn’t actually have sex.

Actually, that was about as cut and dry an explanation as I could muster.

Plopping down on the couch, I set my unopened beer on the coffee table and pivoted my body towards him.

When we were in Las Vegas, something happened at the convention.

A lot of things happened at the convention.

Specifically, someone blew up the convention stage. Killed a fuckton of people. It killed Sunny.

Cade stared at me blankly, because of course he wouldn’t remember this part. No one would. It wasn’t on the news, it wasn’t being shared across oracle networks. Priests and priestesses like us were not all abuzz with the tragedy.

I think I’d remember that, he said slowly.

You would, except I undid it.

His brows pulled together in a look of frustrated confusion.

Just cut to the chase, Tallulah.

I was able to use Imelda’s power to go back to before it all happened. The day before. Imelda was the high priestess to Chronos, the god of time. "And the thing you’re remembering, the thing that keeps clouding up your dreams and seemed so real? Well, it originally happened the night before this."

He let my words sink in, then his brows lifted as everything became clear, and relief flooded over me because it seemed like, just maybe, he actually got it.

So, we…

Oh yeah, we hella boned.

He nearly choked to death on the swig of beer he’d taken right before I said that.

My bad.

But then…

But then I had to change the way things happened. I had to undo it all to keep everyone alive.

Tallulah, you’re not telling me you think us having sex created some sort of ripple effect that led to this, are you?

I almost laughed, but instead just shook my head emphatically. No. But if you know your sister is going to die and you only have one day to set it right, you don’t really stop for a quick lay before getting the job done, you know?

He sipped his beer again, then said, "Based on my very foggy recollections, it wasn’t exactly quick."

Leave it to you to be offended about something that never technically happened.

But it did happen, he reminded me.

And then it didn’t, I reminded him.

We stared at each other, and suddenly the mood wasn’t so dampened anymore. The rush of heat at the back of my neck had returned, and I was keenly aware that the only thing between us was a couch cushion with a sleeping fennec on it.

Fen’s duty as my familiar was not to play the role of cockblock, but he was doing a mighty fine job of it. The problem was if I tried to move him, or leaned against him, he would kick up such a fuss the mood would be ruined regardless.

Hell hath no fury like a fennec roused too early from his nap.

I took a deep breath and settled back into the couch, trying not to look directly at Cade, because every time he did my pulse tripped and I forgot how to get my brain and mouth to work in tandem to form words.

You know, in a way I’m kind of glad you know now. I stared at the TV mounted over my fireplace, which was currently off and only reflected the apartment behind us.

Why didn’t you just tell me? He was also looking at the TV, which didn’t help because he kept meeting my eye in the shiny black surface.

"How do you tell someone something like that, Cade? Hey, look, I know this might sound crazy, but you and I had sex, except then I had to reset the timeline, so we actually didn’t have sex, only we kind of did. That sounds absolutely bananas."

He chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that made my belly tighten.

He was killing me, being this close. I could still remember the roughness of his skin against mine, the stubble on his jaw as he kissed his way up and down my body. How he fit inside me so perfectly. It made me want to cry, because it had been good. It had been great. And then it was nothing.

I believe you now, he offered.

It doesn’t matter. Because it never happened. And we both know it can’t happen again.

He turned then, looking directly at me, and in spite of my best attempts at self-preservation, I looked at him.

Fen snored between us, and my heart pounded.

Can’t it?

No.

In theory, if clerics lived long enough, we could eventually couple with other mortals in the hopes that our genes might create a new generation of clerics, but never with each other. Our love, our devotion, it was all meant to be for the gods we served, and anything that might make us love those gods even an ounce less was a risk they weren’t willing to take.

It didn’t stop things from happening, of course. I wasn’t the chaste virgin Seth might have hoped for, long before I’d ever had sex with Cade. Against my better judgment, taste, and sense of decency, I’d had a short-lived fling with Prescott McMahon, a cleric to Manea, the goddess of death.

I guess I figured at the time if you were going to break one of the cardinal rules, you might as well break it with someone who literally worked for death herself. Really upped the element of danger. Never mind that he was an absolute pain in my ass, a complete douchebag, and had been a constant thorn in my side ever since.

He was also gorgeous, had six-pack abs, and I’d been nineteen years old. No accounting for taste there.

With Cade things were different. He wasn’t just a pretty face. He really wasn’t a pretty face at all. He had the overall appearance of a former boxer or hockey player. A rough guy who had seen some shit in his time, which was precisely what he was.

And I adored him. He was terse, unfriendly, hard to get to know, and completely and utterly irresistible to me.

But no, we’d broken the rules once, and while I didn’t believe that our having sex had set about the events at the conference in Vegas, I also didn’t want to risk the ire and attention of the gods after such a big event. I’d managed to set things right, but there was no way I hadn’t set off a lot of alarm bells in the process.

Trust me, it’s not that I don’t want to, I said, offering an apologetic chuckle. But it isn’t safe, not right now anyway. After what happened I feel like there are a lot of eyes on me right now, and the last thing either of us needs is trouble.

Trouble is literally my job, he offered.

Then you of all people should know we need to avoid bad luck, at least a little longer. Until they all get bored and stop wondering how I managed to do what I did. I have to play it under the radar.

I guess I shouldn’t be here then, he said.

I wanted to argue, to tell him no, but the truth was just him being in the same room as me was making me want to throw caution to the wind. The problem was our roles frequently saw us working in tandem. I followed the storm, and he brought bad luck. The two were often unpleasant bedfellows for the people they hit.

We can’t avoid each other, I admitted. But we might want to avoid tempting scenarios.

He stared at me a long time, his dark hair showing signs of curl, and I wanted so badly to reach out and run my fingers through it.

Tallulah, just existing in the same world as you is a tempting scenario.

CHAPTER

THREE

As my brain short-circuited and I licked my suddenly dry lips, a knock sounded at the door that jerked my attention off his mouth and back to reality.

He growled, looking over his shoulder toward the interruption, and with the spell momentarily broken, I pushed myself off the couch and jogged barefoot to my front door.

When I opened it, cold, hard reality slapped me in the face.

Sido, I said, staring at the woman on the other side of the doorframe.

Tallulah. Sidonie Barker was smiling at me with her usual broad, impossibly white grin. She had braided just the front of her hair, winding golden thread through the black curls, making it look as if she had pushed her afro back with a crown. She was also bone-dry in spite of the weather outside.

Sido had been my trainer when I was brought to Seth’s temple as a child. She was the Rain Chaser who had come before me, but she was also unique to Seth’s clerics in that she was his actual daughter. Ever since I’d replaced her, she’d stuck around to help work as a liaison between me and Seth. While the god himself would sometimes visit me in person, he was usually too self-important to bother. Why make the trip when you can send someone else?

That was literally the entire summary of my job: doing Seth’s dirty work so he didn’t need to get his hands dirty. More often than not it put me directly in the line of fire of some nasty immortal beings, but if anyone complained about my actions to the big boss, I was sure Seth would simply say, How can I be held responsible for the whims of a human?

And this was