Stricken (The War Scrolls Book 1) (9 page)

“Bring the van.” He glanced over at her, hesitating. “And a first aid kit.”

Aubrey gave him a tight smile.

“For you or for her?” Abriel asked.

“Me.”

“You got cut?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s clean?”

“Barely, but yes. Lost my shirt, though.”

Abriel swore again. “I’ll meet you there in twenty.” The stereo flashed
call ended
.

Aubrey flipped the phone closed and shoved it back into the glove compartment. “I hate this day,” she muttered, slamming the compartment closed.

“I’m not loving it, either,” Killian said.

Aubrey scowled at him but said nothing further.

***

Killian raced through the city toward the hospital. Neither of them said much of anything as they drove. Aubrey didn’t know why he was so quiet, but she was still trying to sort through the last half hour.

Things had happened so quickly in her apartment—she hadn’t had time to take it all in. One minute, she was trying to convince Killian to go home. The next, that…man…had come through her front door. She didn’t even know how he’d gotten into the building.

She didn’t particularly want to find out, either.

Yesterday, she’d thought the shifters were terrifying. She’d since changed her mind. The shifters, at least, had looked like wolves. That man had seemed more like the walking dead from some horror movie. Only a whole lot faster and a lot more horrifying.

She’d seen hundreds of kids with cancer over the last year. The disease scarred, disfigured, and ruined far too often. But she’d never seen anything like that poor creature. She never wanted to again.

Who knew what he would have done to Killian if she hadn’t found a little courage when she had? The thought made her chest ache.

“Was he a vampire?” she asked, ignoring the curious ache.

“Yes,” Killian answered. “I think.”

“You think?”

“I didn’t have time to do a thorough check, but he smelled like a vampire. You okay?”

“No,” she said. “Why—?”

“Did he look like that?” Killian guessed.

Aubrey nodded.

“The virus.”

“Oh. Are they always so gruesome once they’re infected?”

“The demons usually are. They rot from the inside out after a few days.”

Aubrey swallowed convulsively. “Was it…w-what did he want?”

Killian hesitated a minute and then sighed. “He was looking for you.”

Aubrey whipped her head in his direction. “What?”

“He was looking for you,” Killian repeated. “He knew your name.”

“How do you know that?”

“I heard him.” He carefully avoided her gaze, the passing shadow obscuring his expression.

“You heard him?”

“Yes.”

Aubrey sat in stunned silence for a full minute. She’d heard nothing over the pounding of her own heart and Zee’s terrified yowls. The way Killian refused to look at her gave her pause. She examined his stoic expression for a long moment, her stomach sinking.

“You can read minds,” she said.

“Yes.” Again, he purposefully avoided her gaze.

She didn’t miss the way his good hand tightened on the steering wheel, though. Her mind raced, trying to remember if she’d thought anything she shouldn’t have while in his company.

“I can’t read yours,” he said, exactly as if he’d done just that.

Her eyes widened.

His lip curled up, amusement glinting in his blue eyes beneath the passing lights. “I guessed, Aubrey.”

She relaxed a little. “Is this common?”

“Most Fallen have the ability—though, full-blooded Fallen have a stronger Talent than I do. I can’t read humans. I can barely read the stronger Elioud.”

“Why not?” Aubrey had no clue what else to say. After everything she’d learned since meeting Killian, she didn’t know why the fact the Fallen were mind-readers should startle her so much, but it did. That they might possess such a Talent had never crossed her mind.

“The human mind works differently than an angel’s. The Fallen use more of their brains than your people do. But I’m Nephilim, so maybe mine isn’t as developed.” Killian glanced at her and shrugged. “That’s the best guess I have.”

“Does it bother you?” she asked. “That you’re different, I mean.” He was so unlike the Halfling who’d attacked her, but he had the same problems. He wasn’t fully Fallen and wasn’t fully human.

Did he resent that like the other one had?

They pulled into the lot at St. Jude’s and parked.

“I can’t change who I am. I’ve learned to accept my limitations.”

“You didn’t answer the question.”

“Yeah, it bothers me.” He looked at her, his expression open and honest for once. “But I’m not like the Halfling who attacked you, Aubrey. I don’t hate who I am or resent what I’m not. I got over that a long time ago.”

“How old are you?” she demanded.

Killian arched a brow at the abrupt subject change. “Does it matter?”

“Just answer the question.” Her head pounded, and she still had more questions than answers. She didn’t want to explain the inner workings of her mind to someone who could read the minds of others. If hers was safe from his Talent, she intended to keep it that way.

He gave in with a small shrug. “Do you want the truth or the human equivalent?”

There was more than one answer? Well, then.

She felt a little like fainting. “Both, please.”

“I was born in 1793,” he said.

Knowing the Fallen were immortal was leagues different than having it confirmed. Killian was over two hundred years old, but his youthful, unlined face made him seem closer to her age.

“And the human answer?”

“Twenty-two.” He gave her a sardonic smile. “Even Nephilim like me age slowly.”

“What’s it like to live forever?”

“I don’t know,” Killian answered. “I haven’t lived forever.” He didn’t add that he probably wouldn’t live that long, either, but she heard it loud and clear anyway.

She climbed from the car slowly, her mind spinning.

Killian followed her out and circled around to her before leaning back against the door.

“You were able to read the vampire in my apartment, weren’t you?” Aubrey tilted her head to look up at him. “That’s how you knew he knew me.”

“I could,” he answered. “You’re sure you didn’t recognize him?”

“I’ve never seen him before.”

Killian nodded once, his blue eyes serious. “Well, he was definitely looking for you.”

“Lovely.”

Killian reached out and touched her arm. Her skin tingled beneath his fingers. “We’ll keep you safe, Aubrey.”

Maybe so, but he wasn’t exactly going to be around forever, was he?

She could put two and two together. If the virus was spreading as quickly as he said, it’d get him sooner or later. And given what he’d spent the last months doing, she kind of figured infection would kill him sooner rather than later. She didn’t want to like him or feel any sort of responsibility toward him or his world, but she did.

How could she not when the more she learned about the situation, the more uneasy she became? The shifters and vampire had been hunting her. She couldn’t deny that fact anymore. Nor could she deny that there was only one reason they’d have come for her. And if she was right…she couldn’t keep it to herself any longer.

Killian and his brothers needed to know even if that meant she lost their protection.

“There’s something you need to know,” she said, the words threatening to stick in her throat.

Killian pushed himself to his feet as the van pulled into the parking lot. He turned back to her, waiting for her to speak. She closed her eyes, not sure if she wanted to be right or wrong, but unable to look at him and confess her fear at the same time.

“I think my father knew about the virus.”

Chapter Eight

Killian stared down at Aubrey, trying to process the look on her face as much as her revelation. Her eyes were wide and stricken, filled with a combination of emotion he couldn’t decipher. The pounding of her heart played like soft music in the background, and his sensitive ears picked out the sound with ease. Despite the dark, he saw the subtle tick of her pulse thrumming like a vibrating guitar string in her throat.

She feared him, feared how he might react to her revelation. What he might do to her, perhaps. Her earlier confession about her attack floated through his mind, causing shame to course through him. After everything she’d endured, he’d given her no real reason to trust him. In truth, he hadn’t cared one way or another if she trusted him.

He didn’t feel that way now, though, did he? He was drawn to her in ways that shouldn’t have been possible. The more he learned about her, the more he liked her…and the more he wanted to protect her. The need to keep her safe was growing, and it had absolutely nothing to do with the fact she was human and he was a Warrior of Light. He felt like…sweet Heaven, he felt like he was
bonding
with her, as one angel did to another. But that was completely impossible, wasn’t it?

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said softly, pushing the thought from his mind. He wanted to reach out and touch her cheek to reassure her, but with Abriel watching them from the idling van, he dared not. His blade-brother had spent three centuries living in human cities, watching over them, protecting them, but never getting close to them. He was a good warrior, an honorable angel. And he would never condone Killian’s shameful attraction to this beautiful little human.

“That might change,” she said, trembling.

The words she needed poured from him unbidden. “I offer you the protection of my life and sword, Aubrey Carter, and that of my blade-brothers. So long as we may prevent it, no harm will come to you, not by our hands or through another’s. I do so swear it.”

Her bottom lip went between her teeth, and her expressive eyes widened a little more as the pledge tumbled from his lips. He would not call it back, though. He couldn’t.

Fallen did not break their vows.

But sweet Heaven, Dom and Abriel would thrash him for involving them in this.

“I believe you.” Aubrey’s voice wavered, but the fear lurking in her eyes eased.

“We can talk in the van,” Killian said before he did something even more foolish than pledging their swords to her, like kiss her.

Aubrey nodded again, a little more firmly this time, and allowed him to lead her to the van. She arched a brow when he climbed in behind her, as if surprised he’d rather sit in the back with her than up front with Abriel. He ignored the question inherent in that look and slammed the van door closed.

Aubrey settled onto the long seat, her kitten snuggled to her chest.

Killian sat beside her, his gaze locking with Abriel’s in the rearview mirror even as his blade-brother greeted Aubrey. Abriel’s disapproval of Killian’s pledge hung heavy in his mind. Oh, Abriel intended her no harm, and would do everything in his power to keep her safe, but if it came right down to it, if Aubrey became a threat, Abriel would break Killian’s vow even if that meant accepting exile. Not because Abriel wanted to hurt the girl, but simply because he might not have another choice.

Kill or be killed.

That was the reality they now lived.

Killian and his blade-brothers didn’t have to like it, but they had to accept it. Their people were dying, cut down by a virus they could not slow or halt. Not even a Fallen like Abriel, who lived by honor as much as the sword, would risk the survival of their entire race to keep Killian’s vow to Aubrey.

Hell, less than twenty-four hours ago, Killian would have wielded the knife himself if necessary. How odd that so much could change so quickly, but for Killian, it had. And damned if he knew what that meant for any of them. He didn’t know what was happening to him where Aubrey was concerned. All he knew for certain was that he meant the pledge he’d given her—neither he nor his blade-brothers would harm her or allow harm to come to her. He would see to that.

“Later,” he mouthed as Aubrey returned Abriel’s greeting.

Abriel dipped his head in a brief nod then tossed a clean shirt toward Killian.

Killian snagged it with his good hand.

Abriel put the van in gear and pulled out of the lot. “The storm’s still an hour out. I’ll circle the neighborhood a few times and try to confuse her scent as much as I can before we head out.”

“That’s fine,” Killian murmured, watching as Aubrey snapped her seat belt in place. “Why do you think your father knew about the virus?” he asked her, knowing Abriel had heard her confession.

Aubrey inhaled then licked her lips nervously. “He was a molecular virologist with the University of Wisconsin.”

Killian’s eyes widened, surprise shooting through him like an arrow from a bolt.

Shock rippled through Abriel too.

“He focused heavily in microbial pathogenesis…” Aubrey looked at Killian with a question in her eyes.

“I know what it is,” he assured her, schooling his expression.

She bobbed her head, seeming relieved she didn’t have to explain exactly what her father had done. “Anyway, he did a lot of research on diseases caused by microorganisms, trying to predict the ways they might mutate and how they might spread from one species to another.”

The Fallen could have used someone like him to help them find answers.

Too damned bad he was dead.

“He and Aaron talked some about the potential for a virus like
La Morte Nera
to spread from one population to another. As you pointed out earlier, the difference between the Elioud and an ordinary human is a simple genetic mutation,” Aubrey said. “My father knew too much about viruses, I think. He worried there might be something out there that humans knew nothing about, diseases that could hurt me and Aaron. I always thought their conversations were just talk, though.”

“You don’t think that now,” Killian said.

She worried her lip between her teeth as Abriel pulled to a stop at an intersection, and then she shook her head. “I don’t know what I think, but nothing else makes sense, does it?”

He didn’t disagree with her. Her father had dedicated his life to studying viruses and how they operated. Now
La Morte Nera
ravaged the world, killing those like her and her brother in a matter of days. Those who, for reasons unknown, kept hunting her down when experience suggested they should have been too far gone to undertake such a task.

What were the chances they were hunting her for some other reason? One not related to her father? Slim to zero. It didn’t take one of the human rocket scientists to figure that out.

“How would he have gotten ahold of the virus?” Abriel asked her. “Your father died long before it became active, and until recently, not even the oldest Fallen believed it to be real.”

“I don’t know. I just…”

“You just what?” Killian asked.

Careful, Killian
, Abriel’s thoughts whispered through him, cautioning him not to push her too hard. Her memories were not easy to revisit.

His blade-brother didn’t elaborate, but Killian could feel his shifting emotions.

Abriel admired her strength too.

“Before he died, he tried to tell me something,” she whispered. Her shoulders hunched, her eyes locked firmly on the little ball of fur in her lap. “He said ‘they’ would need me, and I was the only one. But I didn’t understand what he meant, and he never had a chance to explain. I saw Aaron’s body, and I—” She flinched, folding in on herself. “I lost it.”

Killian’s heart twisted at the broken expression on her face. After her confession in the elevator, he should have realized she had witnessed the fire that had killed her family and sent her to a mental ward, but the thought hadn’t even crossed his mind.

He’d burned countless bodies in the last months, and the stench of charred flesh and burning blood…well, that was almost tolerable compared to watching a corpse blister and peel, skin cracking and smoking with the heat of the flames. He would not wish that on anyone, especially not the beautiful, confusing girl beside him.

First the Halfling and then her family.

Sweet Heaven, she’d been little more than a child!

God truly was an unmerciful bastard if He’d force a child to endure all of that.

“How did the fire start?” Killian asked her.

She shook her head, refusing to answer.

“Aubrey,” he prompted, wishing he could leave it alone as she wanted, but he couldn’t. “We need to know.”

“Arson.” The word trembled on her lips. “Someone set it.”

“Did they ever find out who did it?”

“No.”

“Did your father have any enemies? Anyone that would want to harm him?”

“No,” she said again. “Nothing like that. He volunteered with the Red Cross and coached my softball team. He helped Aaron look after the other Elioud kids in the area…the ones who could shift like my brother. He took dinner to our elderly neighbor every night. Everyone loved him.”

“You’re sure? What about your brother?” Killian pressed as gently as he could. The Elioud who shifted were some of the strongest. They felt the same battle cry the Fallen did. Her brother easily could have made an enemy or two along the way, and they couldn’t afford to chase down false leads or false hope. They didn’t have time.

“No. There was no reason for anyone to do that to them. No reason,” she whispered with fierce certainty. Her expression crumbled.

“Don’t,” Abriel warned when Killian opened his mouth to press for more.

Killian heeded his blade-brother’s warning and closed his mouth. Aubrey had nothing more to give him today. Twin tears fell from the ends of her lashes.

She didn’t look at him when he moved closer, instead keeping her gaze locked on the kitten sleeping in her lap, but she did allow him to pull her into his side. No sound passed her lips as she cried. She simply rested against him as little tears made silent tracks down her porcelain cheeks.

Killian’s heart hurt for her.

The Fallen were immortal, but not indestructible. As the Demon Wars had taught them eons ago and
La Morte Nera
reminded them now, even an immortal life could be tenuous. The Fallen understood loss and grief. They experienced those painful facts of life exactly as humans did. Killian had never met his mother and had been shunned by his father. He’d lost friends in battle and had even hefted the blade that had felled some of them. But those hurts, spread out over two centuries, seemed like little more than the sting of bees compared to what Aubrey had endured in a few short years.

And still, she kept fighting.

The angel blood running through her veins might have been weak, but she had the heart of a warrior. Killian admired the hell out of her.

Within minutes, her breathing evened out into the deep rhythm of sleep.

Even then, tears slid silently down her cheeks.

***

Killian stood in the doorway to his bedroom, his eyes on Aubrey’s sleeping form. She hadn’t stirred once since he’d carried her from the van and tucked her into his bed hours ago. Tears no longer fell from her eyes, but she stirred restlessly, tossing and turning in her sleep. Every few minutes, her lips would move, but her soft voice never sounded. Even in sleep, the inner workings of her mind and the grim details of the memories haunting her remained as out of Killian’s reach as ever.

He didn’t much care for that.

Over the years, he’d become accustomed to the narrow scope of his Talents. But he would have given anything for even a whisper from the little Elioud female sleeping in his bed.

How could one small human survive so much?

She remained a mystery to him, an enigma.

She seemed so vulnerable. Long-dormant instincts bubbled to the surface the more time he spent near her, demanding he protect her, comfort her…help her. That alarmed him almost as much as his pledge to her. He was a Halfling, true, but he’d lived among the Fallen his entire life. Once upon a time, he’d longed to know this human side of his heritage, but he’d lost that desire long ago. He’d willingly given up the chance to live as a human in exchange for the life of a Fallen warrior.

Save to fulfill his duties, he’d had no interest in interacting with or understanding humans.

Since meeting Aubrey, he couldn’t help but wonder if life was so brutal for all humans. Had his mother experienced such tragedy in her lifetime? Had she, like Aubrey, watched the people she loved die one by one?

He hadn’t asked himself such questions in a long time, and he didn’t like doing so now. His life was coming to an end. He’d accepted that when it became clear
La Morte Nera
would win. He didn’t want to waste time regretting things he’d never known or wondering what would become of the little Elioud sleeping in his bed when he was nothing more than ashes.