A God to Fear (Thorn Saga Book 5) (5 page)

Heather and Brandon shuffled out into a dark, secluded corner of Centennial Olympic Park. Thorn hovered over them, and the door thumped safely shut behind the trio.
If
no angels had spotted them, then no one could easily follow them now. The structured Corridors could be searched methodically, but the bustling metropolis of Atlanta offered cover to anyone—spirit or human—who wished to stay hidden.

The ground was slick from recent rain. A blanket of clouds obscured the stars, but the speckles of lighted windows in the skyscrapers around the park cast their own sort of starscape against the heavens’ blackness. Honking and braking and the welcome din of traffic rumbled across the park, playing their delightful tune. Tourists played in the fountains shaped like the Olympic rings, oblivious to the two strangers who wandered in their midst, strangers Thorn had plucked out of the ether of the Sanctuary system into true existence on Earth.

Brandon and Heather marveled at the expanse of Thorn’s city, to which they’d walked in just under an hour. “Look at the clock up there,” Brandon said. “And that other one up on the building. They both say ten thirty. Why is it still dark outside?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know what’s going on.”

Strange that I’ve only been away from here for a single day
, Thorn thought. Twenty-some hours ago—when the Judge had sent him to Crystal and Cole’s Sanctuary—already felt like a bitter memory from years past.

The Judge. I have to get Heather and Brandon to the Judge. Once Brandon is patched up, that is.
He couldn’t communicate with them now that he was only a spirit again, so he hoped Heather had listened to his plea to get Brandon to the hospital, then to run herself to the courthouse. And now he was worried about that hospital. Would its staff inquire about the humans’ nonexistent identities?

“Excuse me!” Heather called to a passerby—a young woman draped in a colorful kanga.

“No!” Thorn whispered. “Don’t attract attention.”

But Heather continued: “My husband is hurt. Do you have a cell phone? Could you call an ambulance for us?”

The woman yelped when she saw Brandon’s bloody state, but quickly produced a cell phone and began dialing. “I so sorry,” she said with a heavy accent. “I call help now.”

Although the park was sparsely populated at this time of night, a few other passersby had noticed the commotion and were rushing to Brandon’s aid. Heather helped Brandon down onto the grass.

Thorn slunk into some foliage. Any enjoyment he felt at his homecoming vanished as every demon in the park turned its eyes on Brandon, tainting the beauty of Atlanta at night with their menace. Thorn imagined the inane thoughts of his former underlings.
Pain! Oh, how we love pain and misery. Perhaps we can harm this boy further. We could whisper to one of these onlookers to offer faulty medical advice, or we could drive the hurt human to suicidal despair.
They swarmed Brandon, bickering over rights to this delectable new charge.

Thorn wanted to intervene, but he knew such action was unwise. He didn’t know what the demonic rumor mill had spun out of his escapades in the Sanctuaries. For all he knew, the city’s demons would execute him on the spot if they recognized him. No, waiting to reveal himself until he stood in the Judge’s presence was a better plan. For now, he needed to stay hidden, especially because demons weren’t the only enemy after him now. Invisible hosts of angels lurked in their own spiritual realm, just out of view. Would they notice this ruckus in the park? Would they care enough to investigate? Thorn was glad that God’s power was limited. Him locating Thorn on Earth was probably unlikely, unless Thorn made a commotion.

“What happened to him?” someone asked.

“Uh, it was a plane accident,” Heather said. “I’m a little scuffed up too, but he got the worst of it.”

“Plane? Like an airplane? Where’d it happen?”

Heather ignored the question, leaning toward Brandon instead. “How you doing, hon?”

“It hurts a lot, but I think the bleeding stopped.”

Thorn kept his distance as the EMS workers arrived, eased Brandon down onto a stretcher, and whisked him and Heather away to the hospital. But as the ambulance wound through the luminous streets of Downtown, Thorn followed it from far above, drifting between skyscrapers, careful to stay far enough away from other demons that none could see his face.

Hundreds of demons waited at the emergency room.
Hospitals. Always so crowded.
Thorn had never liked the places, which attracted multitudes of lowlife demons eager for some easy suffering and death. They’d served him well when he’d needed attention. At the height of his dominance, flaunting his power in a hospital or two had been a sure way to boost his reputation across the city. But now he kept his head down as he floated in after Brandon’s stretcher, keeping a careful distance from Brandon and Heather.

Fortunately, the other demons were too self-absorbed to notice their former leader in their midst. Their attention remained on the humans, and especially on Brandon.

As the nurses wheeled Brandon down the hallway, another demon—along with what looked to be his protégé—drifted alongside Thorn. He turned his face so they wouldn’t recognize him, but he couldn’t help overhearing a snippet of their conversation:

“—ever again, foolish apprentice. Evils that come from within are the easiest evils for humans to control. So our job is to keep them from controlling them. Distract them with work, or entertainment, or addictions, or all the fun things they can buy; or here in the hospital, you can easily distract them with pain. Don’t ever let them cherish life. Don’t ever let them think. Distraction is the opposite of thinking, so if you need to—”

The voice faded as the demons turned down an adjoining hallway, but it was replaced by the cackling of several demons crawling over a convulsing patient in one of the rooms Thorn passed. “You’re gonna die!” the loudest of them shrieked as doctors scrambled to calm the man’s seizing. “You never thought your life would end, so you never did anything worthwhile, and now it’s too late! You’re gonna die, die, die!”

Dozens of demons were whispering to Brandon now, too. The farther into the hospital they traveled, the thicker the air grew with Thorn’s foul brethren.
I can’t believe I used to count myself as one of them.

Three demons hovered above a passing doctor. The man wore scrubs and a surgical mask. He stared intently down at the tablet in his hands, and the demons studied the device with just as much gravity. Thorn couldn’t count the numerous hours he’d spent in the same position: peeking over a human’s shoulder, reading a scroll, book, a newspaper, a phone. Since demons could never touch these things, they had to wait until a human accessed them to read the information contained within.

“—the girl who got stabbed last night, but she’s no fun.”

The significance of this conversation fragment took a few moments to register with Thorn. When it did, he abandoned Brandon and Heather, then ducked inside a wall near the two gabbing demons.

“It’s like someone trained her not to listen to us, to question everything we say,” one of the demons said. “Just like Darnell. It’s disgusting. I’d hoped to get more out of someone who came so close to death.”

“She was Thorn’s, you know,” said the other demon. “She’s the one he tried to save before the Judge sent him off to die.”

“More’s the pity. I usually like a challenge, but she won’t bend a bit. Not even with those knife wounds.”

“Well, it doesn’t help that they have her drugged up. Once you’ve been in the hospital a while, you’ll notice that they don’t hear our whispers as well when they’re on meds. Just watch. In another day or two, I’ll have her praying to die.”

“Maybe so, but in the meantime, don’t ask me to watch her anymore. They just took her upstairs to recover, and that’s so far from the new patients. There’s no blood up there, and all the humans there have already been claimed. You shame me by—”

Thorn didn’t hear the rest of their conversation, because he was already darting upstairs.

Thorn found her in a room with a window featuring a dazzling view of downtown. Wearing a hospital gown, she looked weak and pallid, yet she was conscious. Alive. She lay on her back, listening to a visitor talk.

It was a simple sight—Thorn had watched Amy lying on her bed, falling asleep, countless times before. But not after he’d come so close to losing her. Not after God had threatened to let her die. Had God been merciful, in spite of Thorn’s rebellion against Him?

Two demons resided in the room when Thorn arrived; they clearly recognized him, because they immediately charged to attack. But they were scrawny things, and thirty seconds later, Thorn had killed them both and hid their bodies in the room’s closet. If any more demons entered, Thorn would dispatch them as well. Nothing could stand between him and a few more minutes with Amy.

… Or so he thought, until he turned to see Amy’s visitor.

“Yeah, the news lady is totally right outside and they can’t wait to interview us,” Lexa said, smacking some gum above her tongue. “I told them I was your best friend and that I’m gonna take care of you while you get better. Can you believe it, Amy? We’re famous! I mean I know it’s terrible what happened to you and all, but you could literally be on talk shows because of this, and you can get a book deal, and—”

“Lexa,” Amy said, her voice fatigued, and less irritated than Thorn would have been able to manage. “I know. It’s a big deal. But I really don’t want to think about it right now. I just want to relax. Relaaaaaaax…”

“Okay, but I was just thinking that maybe you could leverage your star power to earn some money for college, and maybe, you know, pay me back the money I let you borrow? You know, whenever you get the chance.”

Thorn frowned, then drifted back to the door to check for any other demons lurking nearby.

“Yeah, sure,” Amy said distantly. “I’ll see what I can cook up and stuff. Do you know where my mom is?”

“She was here waiting with me before you woke up, and I was telling her about my performance as Velma in the school’s production of
Chicago
that’s coming up next month, and all the prep work I’ve been doing, and how fantastic it’s gonna be—and you’re invited by the way—and I guess she had something to do, like go get food or something, but that was like three hours ago, so I’m sure she’ll be back any minute.”

“Great. Thanks.”

“Oh, and check it out. While you were sleeping—God, I love that movie—but while you were sleeping, I painted both our fingernails with… drumroll, please… with
mint
nail polish. Smell that.” She yanked Amy’s frail hand up to Amy’s face.

“Smells… minty.”

“I know, right? All the bitches love it.”

“Thanks.”

“Hey, what are BFFs for? We’ll have to show the news people when we go downstairs later.”

“Uh, I don’t know if I want to do that so soon.”

“Aw, really? Why not?”

Thorn had never found Lexa more annoying than he did at this exact moment.
She can touch and influence the physical realm, yet she likes to keep her world so small.
Thorn might have felt sorry for her if she hadn’t been such a blight on Amy’s life, or if he’d known her through different circumstances, but now Lexa was pestering his beloved charge in her weak state, and if she had the audacity to—

When he tried to move through the curtains shielding Amy from the hallway windows, they enveloped his face. After a moment of confusion, he grabbed the curtains with his hand.
What? Again?
Both of the times this had happened before, he’d been in Amy’s presence. He lightly tapped his foot against the linoleum floor just to be sure.

Then he grinned a devious grin. He’d always wanted to do this…

Thorn slunk up behind Lexa, prepared his most menacing voice, then spoke just an inch away from her ear.

“Boo.”

Lexa leaped out of her seat and screamed. Turning toward Thorn, she tripped backward onto the bed, then scampered across it over Amy’s feet. She fell sideways off of the other side and plopped to the floor.

“What the fuck?” she said, scrambling to stand, her hair in disarray. “Who the fuck are you?”

“A demon from the bowels of Hell.” Thorn stalked toward her.

Grinning with pleasant surprise, Amy giggled a bit.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Lexa said, assuming a defensive posture. “That’s close enough, creep. I have pepper spray in my purse.”

“This purse?” Thorn held it up, removed the pepper spray, then aimed it at Lexa. She yelped and covered her face, but Thorn tossed the canister onto Amy’s bed, within Amy’s reach.

Lexa peeked out from between her fingers. “Amy, you know this guy?”

Amy looked like she was trying very hard to hide her smile. “Lexa, this is my Uncle Bob. Uncle Bob, Lexa.”

“Pleased to meet you.” Thorn held out a hand to shake.

Lexa ran a hand through her hair, but only tousled it more. She inched around Thorn in as wide a circle as the walls would allow. “Yeah, uh, whatever. I’ll leave you two to talk about family and stuff.” She spit her gum into a trashcan near the door and backed into the hallway, but just when Thorn thought he was rid of her, she squinted back at him. “That suit you’re wearing… is that Gucci?”

“Get out of here.”

“Okay, jeez, all right.” She strode hurriedly down the hallway, looking warily back over her shoulder every few seconds. Thorn shut the door behind her.

Amy laughed feebly. “I think you scared the shit out of her.”

“Literally. As she would put it.”

Amy laughed harder, but then suddenly winced and groaned.

Thorn dashed to her side. “Are you okay? How badly does it hurt?”

“It’s only when I move certain ways. They’ve got me doped up pretty good, ha ha ha ha ha…” Her laughter faded into a dazed, contented smile. “You saved my life.”

“I thought you were gone. You’d lost so much blood.”

“Turns out he didn’t hit anything vital. I got some transfuses and things, so I’ll be all good to go before too much longer.”

Thorn chuckled at her slurred speech. “So you’re going to live.”

“I am.” Her beaming eyes were almost as beautiful as her smile. She lifted a hand up to Thorn’s cheek, and it came away wet. “Why are you crying? I’m okay now.”