A Gathering of Angels (13 page)

*

“
S
it down, Annie. They’re in good hands—Simon will keep them safe.”

She made another pass, rubbing at her ring. It felt uncomfortable, like an itch she couldn’t reach. Tears blurred her eyes as she stared down at it. She didn’t even have the chance to tell Claire yet, to share the joy and the future this ring represented. Annie wanted her to be around for all of it—the planning, the thousands of decisions, the shower. She wanted Claire to stand with her, as her friend, the sister of her heart, when she married the man she wanted to grow old with—

Pressing her fingers against her eyes for a second, she managed to keep from bursting into tears. Mindy Kay walking in from the bedroom made it even easier.

She wanted to hate the lanky redhead, with those knockout gorgeous eyes and killer figure. But her obvious care for Marcus and Claire, and the pure, nurturing power that radiated from her had Annie liking her, trusting her.

“He’s sleeping.” Mindy Kay dropped into the nearest chair, scrubbed at her face. “Lea’s staying with him.” She glanced over at Eric. “She asked if you’d check in on him in a bit.”

Eric nodded. “Why don’t you crash in the other bedroom? It’s going to be a long night.”

She stood, yawning. “Wake me in a couple hours. You two will need some sleep by then.”

Annie stopped long enough to let her pass, then started pacing again.

“Okay.” Eric pushed out of the chair and stepped in her path. “Enough, blondie.”

“Out of my way.” He simply took her hands when she tried to move past him. “Damn it, Eric—let me go—”

“Talk to me.”

“There’s nothing to—God—” Burning pain flared up her arm. Eric caught her as her knees buckled, lowered her to the closest chair. She clutched her left wrist, stared at her ring. Black burned in the center of the sapphire—and for the first time, images flared through her mind. “It’s Claire—oh God, Eric—she’s in danger.”

*

C
laire crept behind Simon through the narrow, dark hallways. She kept a tight grip on Theresa, feeling her tremble every time they rounded a corner. Claire understood perfectly; aside from the brutal cold, this warren left plenty of room for ambush.

Braced for attack, her anxiety built every time they didn’t run into anyone. There had been at least twenty people roaming around the building. Where the hell did they go?

The answer waited for them in the heart of the house.

It must have been a ballroom at one time—the long rectangular space, and the smooth wood floor that was made for dancing reminded her of another time, another place. Another life.

In the center of that open space, Jane stood, the outline of her body wavering, surrounded by kneeling supplicants. The darkness crawled along the floor, up the walls. Its icy power squeezed the breath out of Claire. Simon grabbed her as she swayed.

Taking in a shallow breath, she nodded, and closed one hand over her amethyst. Just having it on her helped ease the grip of Jane’s presence.

Jane raised her hands, and Theresa jerked against Claire when she started to speak.

“My angels—you have been my greatest support, my eyes and ears where I cannot go. But there are those who have evaded me, who would see me harmed. I want them found—I want them burned! Will you do this for me?”

Nausea burned up Claire’s throat at the sight of innocent people groveling, completely trapped by her. An ugly sound came from Simon, just before he pulled her and Theresa to their feet and all but dragged them back down the hall.

“Simon—we can’t let her—”

The anguish in his eyes cut her off. “Find the damn altar. Stop her.”

“I can show you,” Theresa whispered. Shaking in Simon’s grip, her face shock white, she met Claire’s eyes, and nodded. “I don’t want to, but I remember how to get there. I remember all of it.”

Pulling Simon forward, she led them deeper into the museum. Claire smelled myrrh and patchouli before they reached the doorway. “Stay here, both of you.”

“Damn it—”

She turned on Simon. “I will not allow you to be yanked into some backwash of a spell because I didn’t check first. Now stay put.”

Before he could object she limped through the doorway, halting just past the threshold. Her skin tingled, the amethyst pulsing against her skin, and she understood why the altar scared Theresa so badly. Hate stained even the air around it.

Gripping the amethyst through her sweatshirt, she moved slowly, certain she would run straight into some kind of protective circle. That she didn’t told her more than a little about Jane’s arrogance.

And the altar told her volumes about the path Jane chose to walk.

She refused to touch a single item. The evil surrounding the altar surpassed anything she had ever faced. Nothing tempered it, or balanced the ugly taint of the dark magic used to create it. Even without her power she could sense that evil. Claire never used binding spells, and with good reason—they spoke to the demon she had kept buried, so deeply she almost forgot her own past.

With an unsteady breath, she studied each component, horrified as she understood what Jane had done. To tie herself here, she corrupted her own power. Claire backed away from the altar—and spotted the crystal point she had seen Jane wearing.

Smoke roiled inside, as if fighting to free itself. Just the thought of touching it made her break out in a sweat, and she knew the moment she did Jane would be on top of them. But this was the source—she could feel it. Somehow, Jane locked the twisted spell inside the crystal.

She turned around, found Simon just inside the doorway, staring at the altar, the revulsion she felt on his face. Swallowing, he moved forward, took her hand.

“Destroying the altar won’t stop her,” he said. “Damn it—this is just window dressing.”

“The pendant.” Claire waited until he saw it. His grip on her hand tightened. “It will stop her, I think. If we can find a way to get it out of here.” She glanced past him. “Where is Theresa?”

“I let her go.”

Claire’s heart tripped. “Simon—”

“She was rabbit scared, Claire. And no use to us in that condition. Besides, the second you touch that, she’s going to be the bottom problem on Jane’s list.”

“I’m afraid I agree. You didn’t send her out on her own?”

He looked insulted. “I told her to go back to the cabin. Whether she does or not will be her choice.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” Easing her hand out of his, she scrubbed at her face, exhaustion blurring her mind. “I don’t know how long we’ll have until Jane shows once I touch this, so be ready.”

He put himself between her and the door. She flinched when he pulled an iron fireplace poker out of his duffle.

Bracing herself, Claire closed her fingers around the pendant.

Nothing happened.

The crystal and gold burned hot against her skin; as quickly as she could, she looped the long chain around her neck. Simon all but yanked her off her feet as he grabbed her arm and headed for the door.

“Let’s get out—”

Cold slammed into them a moment before Jane appeared. With a flick of her hands she tumbled Claire across the floor, and slammed Simon against the far wall. He hit with rib-cracking force, slid down the wall. The front of his shirt had been slashed. Through the rents she saw the bloodless gashes on his chest.

Jane hovered above the floor, colorless waist length hair blowing around her. “Give the crystal to me now and I won’t kill him.”

Claire pushed herself up, every inch aching. The amethyst pulsed against her chest, its heat spreading through her as it shoved back the numbing cold. She met Jane’s flat grey eyes.

“I will walk into Hell before I give this to you.”

“And you just signed his death warrant!”

Jane spun, flung out her hands.

“No—” Claire lunged forward.

The shotgun blast echoed in the small room, soundtracked Jane’s furious scream just before she burst into a cloud of smoke and flame.

“Claire! God—Claire, are you okay?”

Annie sprinted across the room, Eric on her heels. Ignoring her, Claire moved to Simon, sucking in her breath when she saw the damage up close. Shaking fingers brushed his cheek, and he opened his eyes. “How bad?”

“Still breathing,” he whispered.

Eric eased her aside, crouched over Simon. Scared and more than a little angry, she turned on her friend. “What the hell are you doing here? I told you to stay put.”

Annie flinched, pushed damp curls off her forehead. “I saw you, Claire. Dead. Next to that abomination of an altar.” She crossed her arms, throwing back some anger of her own. “Damn it, I couldn’t stand by and do nothing.”

“Oh, Annie.” Claire couldn’t fault her for rushing in—not with an image like that in her mind. “You’ve never done that before, have you?”

“Ever since I put on this ring, it feels like my power is out of control. Not in a scary way, more in an ‘it’s about damn time you found me’ way.” She took Claire’s hand—and jerked away like she had been burned. “Holy hell—what is that?”

Claire glanced down. The crystal rested against her sweatshirt, the smoke trapped inside it like a dark stain. “Jane. Or at least part of her.”

“The nastiest part. How can you stand to have it touch you?”

“Because I can’t feel it.” Her voice was gentle, but Annie still flinched.

Eric provided a welcome interruption. “I’ve never seen anything like this. The gashes must hurt like a bitch, but they’re not bleeding. I can bandage you when we get back to the cabin—I don’t like the thought of you walking around with open wounds, bleeding or not.”

He pulled Simon up, kept one arm around his waist as they headed for the door.

Annie helped Claire to her feet, looked past her. “Where’s Theresa?”

“Gone.”

“She left you—”

“Don’t start, Annie.”

“We need to get out of here before the salt round that disappeared Jane is no longer effective.” Eric started moving again. “Then we’ll worry about Theresa.”

He led them down a narrow corridor that dumped them at the back of the museum. Claire let out her breath once they stepped outside, finally free of the anger swirling through every room. “I just hope she doesn’t do anything foolish in the meantime. Like trying to find her father.”

*

M
indy Kay met them in the yard. “We laid a protection circle. I wasn’t sure if you’d be able to cross it.” She opened the circle, waited for them to move inside, and closed it behind her. “There were groups patrolling the streets. I wanted to keep this place—invisible.”

Claire managed a smile. “Thank you. I hardly think we are in any condition to find another safe haven.”

“I’ll get something for you all to drink.”

She ran ahead, leaving the front door open for them. Light spilled out from the living room, like a beacon. Claire felt her strength draining out with every step. No sleep and the constant stress of staying safe and alive were finally taking their toll.

Annie led her through that door and straight into the second bedroom. “No argument. You are going to lie down.” She pulled off the borrowed coat, sat Claire on the edge of the bed, and removed the borrowed shoes. Before Claire could protest she took Jane’s pendant, slipping it over her head. “You’ll just have nightmares if you sleep with this abomination. And you will sleep, if I have to knock you out for that to happen.”

“Not necessary,” Claire whispered. Every inch ached for the promised rest, even for five minutes. “But if you try to plan something that does not include me, I will come after you.”

“Threat so noted.” Annie covered her with a warm, soft wool blanket, leaned in and kissed her forehead. “Just take a little time, while we regroup.” She brushed stray hair off Claire’s cheek. “I wasn’t sure I’d recognize you without all that hair, but it suits you. Close your eyes, honey. I promise, we won’t go anywhere without you.”

She stood, turned off the bedside lamp. Claire never heard her leave.

*

A
nnie dropped into the chair next to Eric, rubbed her eyes. “She’s out cold. Now—how are we going to end this bitch?”

Simon laughed, then let out a groan. His uniform shirt was unbuttoned, revealing the bandage wrapped around his ribs. Another bandage was taped over his heart. Annie had a feeling Jane was aiming for a death blow, but got distracted, or didn’t have the mojo she thought she had. Annie was counting on the latter.

“There is something tying her here,” he said, flinching when he shifted in the chair. Annie tried not to stare at the sculpted muscles that flexed with every movement. No priest she ever met looked like that. “A personal item, some of her DNA—something with her on it. We find that, and burn it—”

“Why the hell didn’t you bring this up before? Or try it?”

Simon looked at her. “Until now, she has been inside someone. And I didn’t want to take the chance of harming that someone. Did I make the wrong choice—not sacrificing one person to take her out sooner? I don’t know, and I will be the one to live with the guilt of that choice if more people die because I did not act.”

“Holy hell,” Annie said, completely in awe. “You really are a priest.”

A smile flashed across his face. “Last I checked.”

Eric leaned forward. “Whatever we do, it has to be soon, and fast. I need to get Marcus to something resembling a hospital, whether he agrees to it or not.”

“I doubt he’ll agree,” Mindy Kay said. She set a plate of ham subs in the middle of the table. “But you’re right. We have to end this, before anyone else gets hurt. I’m already worried about the aftermath, with the people she did possess.” She shook her head, red hair brushing her shoulders. “I see a whole lot of lying and memory tampering in my future.”

“I want to do this without Claire,” Annie said. “She’s been through enough.”

Simon raised his eyebrows. “And you really think she’ll agree to step aside?”

“We don’t give her a choice, she doesn’t have to—”

“You will not speak for me, Annie.”

Shit.