The Lost Soul Trilogy (Primani Book 5) (92 page)

Sean.

The stone angel took his breath away. The statue wore the flowing robes and folded wings that humans expected to see. The angel’s expression was gentler and the hair much longer than any angels he knew. The face itself was effeminate, child-like, and not at all Sean’s. The stone was grey and pockmarked with bits of moss. It was designed to look as though it had been there for years. The stone façade was there for the humans who wandered through the Stone Garden. It gave them comfort and peace.

Angels had a different view.

The air was heavier around the statue, thick, flowing.

He waved a hand and said, “
Un
Visi
.”

The air cleared to reveal Sean kneeling on the stone slab with rain pouring over him. His face was bleached white from the strain of holding himself upright and the pain of kneeling on stone. His cheekbones jutted out unnaturally and his fingertips were bloody from gripping the stone. He wasn’t made of stone, precisely. But he wasn’t able to change his position, couldn’t lift his head or move his hands. This was part of the punishment.

Reflection was done on the knees…

Fuck. This sucked. This was his brother, for God’s sake. His hands cramped with the urge to yank Sean up and defy Michael’s judgment. Jamming them into his pockets, he took a deep breath. Patience, he told himself. This isn’t over yet.

Sean’s eyes were cast to the side as he tried to look away from Mica. She sat curled like a cat at the statue’s feet with her arms around the hem of its robe. Her face pressed against the stone, eyes closed, sound asleep. In reality, she was draped over Sean with her head resting against his knees, adding weight to his burden. Oh Mica…what are you doing here? You’re going to be sick and Sean wouldn’t want that. He carefully walked into Sean’s line of sight. Sean’s eyes were devastated and he tried to gesture with them.

Unable to move anything else, Sean blinked furiously at Killian. Killian glanced at Mica and Sean blinked again.

Sean? Can you hear me?

Sean’s eyes lit up and he sent his thoughts racing into Killian’s mind.

Get her out of here! She’s making herself sick!

How are you holding up?

Bitter laugh…
I’ve been better. Any luck yet?

Not yet, I’m still looking.

Someone cleared their throat and Killian turned to see Rivin lounging just inside the tiny chapel door. He lifted a hand in greeting. Killian acknowledged him and turned back to Sean with a heavy heart.

Hang in there, Sean.

He rested his hand on Sean’s shoulder for a minute and tried to send him what comfort he could. Sean blinked again and Killian scooped Mica into his arms.

Her eyes opened a slit and she let her head drop over the back of his arm. She was burning up. He rested his cheek on her forehead and frowned. Damn, she’s practically on fire. She inhaled and broke into a deep cough that rattled in her chest.

“Rivin! Let’s go!” he barked the words more harshly than he intended.

“Before you get pissed, let me explain. She’s a bloody stubborn woman. I swear I’ve done everything but tie her to the bed. She nearly ripped me head off when I
tried
to tie her to the bed. Called me a bloody pervert too. We’ve been fighting for days over this. She won’t listen to a word I say.”

“Shocker. Just drive us to the house. How long has she been sick?”

He thought for a second and said, “Not long. She’s been coughing for a few days but said it was just a cold. I think the fever’s new unless she’s been hiding it. I can’t get close enough to feel her forehead without losing a body part.”

She shivered in her seat and he pulled her closer to share his body heat. Her cheeks bloomed with an unhealthy red except for the white lines of fatigue around her eyes. Purple shadows added more color. He tucked her hair behind an ear and marveled that she could be so sick so fast. He’d only been gone a week. Damn, she was too fragile as a human. The vision from the Valley of Death floated into his mind and he squeezed her hand harder than he meant to. She frowned and opened her eyes. They were glazed with fever.

Taking the stairs two at a time, he carried her to the room and stripped off her wet clothes. She shivered and shook in the chilly air and he yelled for Rivin.

“Turn the friggin’ heat on in this place! It’s freezing in here!”

“Got it. What else can I do?”

Killian said, “Warm up the house, bring me a thermometer, water, something for the fever…we’ll start there.”

While Rivin gathered up the bring-down-the-fever things, he wrapped her in a warm robe and a thick blanket. Chafing her cold fingers between his hands, he watched and worried. Stubborn, loving, loyal…damn
woman
! He wanted to shout at her for risking her life, but he was so damn proud of her loyalty to Sean.

She was like a mother bear.

Protective, fierce…she’d be a hell of a mother one day.

“I leave you alone for a week and you try to kill yourself. What am I going to do with you, stubborn girl?” He said the words lightly, trying to soothe her. “You know you have to pull yourself together. Sean isn’t going anywhere. It sucks but we have others who are counting on us. We don’t have time to waste.”

She moaned in her sleep and fluttered her fingers weakly. She was biting her nails again. She did that when she worried. Lifting her fingers to his face, he kissed them lightly and waited for Rivin.

“This is all I could find.” Rivin hurried inside with his arms full of supplies.

Dumping them on the small dresser, he rummaged until he came up with the thermometer. He peered at it quizzically and shrugged.

“There were two kinds in the bathroom cabinet. No idea what’s what meself. Oral or rectal? What would the lady prefer?” Handing one to Killian, he said, “This is rounded on the end. Is it rectal or oral?”

With a half-snort of annoyance, and gratitude that the lady was out cold and missing this stupid conversation, Killian snatched it and said, “The round part’s for under your tongue, you moron.”

A sudden racking cough brought Mica out of sleep and gasping for air. He helped her sit up and waited for her to settle down again. She was so much more docile when she was sick, he thought with some humor. Hell, it was easy to take care of her when she was unconscious. She didn’t argue.

When had he become so interested in comforting women? This was a new role for him. If it were anyone else, he’d have assigned Rivin to manage it and left. But Mica? He would happily sit at her side and feed her with a spoon.

Whatever it took to keep her alive…he wasn’t going to screw this up.

When he checked on her the next time, she was blinking up at him from her bed. Her face was still pink but not the hellish red it was earlier. Her eyes were clear and she was drenched with sweat. The fever had broken. Hallelujah. Exhaling with relief, he sank down beside her and felt her forehead. Much better. Thank God.

“Where did you come from?” she asked with a wan smile.

“Someplace unpleasant. Are you feeling better?”

She cleared her throat experimentally and swallowed. “I think so. Did
you
heal me?” Her tone suggested there was no possible way he did that.

Ouch! He wasn’t the greatest healer, but damn. He’d
healed
her before. It wasn’t impossible.

“No, we pumped you full of drugs; massive doses of cold medicine. You’ve been out for 12 hours.”

Surprised by this, she actually smiled a little and said, “That seems a little ordinary, but I guess it worked. Why did you come back? I thought you’d be gone longer.”

How could he tell her about the vision? He didn’t understand it completely himself. He decided to play it off.

“I wanted to check in on you and Sean. When I found you at the chapel, you were passed out and burning with fever.” He stroked her hair and added firmly, “Babe, you can’t keep doing that. You can’t neglect yourself. I need you to be there for me too. You have to be stronger than your emotions. Remember?”

Her face fell, making him feel like a jerk.

“It’s so hard to walk away from him. I can’t do it. He’s
there
behind the stone…I can feel his agony, Killian. It’s an ache in my bones; it hurts so much. My knees ache, my back aches. His eyes watch me and they run with tears.” She sniffed, begging him to understand. “How can I leave him alone?”

Gathering her close, he rested his head on hers and closed his eyes. He had to leave again, but how could he leave her here? She’d go and sit with Sean every day, never realizing she was hurting him more than helping him. Sean’s pain was nearly more than he could bear and having her there was going to push him over the edge. Her empathy would tear them both to pieces. Michael had blessed her with this ability. He knew what he was doing, but that didn’t make it any easier for her to bear. She was too close to Sean; they were linked as tightly as she was to him. The connection was important, necessary even, but it made her too vulnerable. If he pulled her away from him, she’d freak out. There was no way to release Sean…so what options were there?

When her fingers curled against the back of his neck, he relaxed and let himself enjoy the gentleness of her touch. If he closed his eyes he could summon her to his mind. He pictured her mouth turned up in a lazy smile and leaned down to kiss her. Letting his mouth linger over her soft lips, he slid his fingers through the silky tangle of her hair.

“I’ll be back soon,” he whispered as she drifted off to sleep again.

Astral Plane #72:

“Son of a bitch!” he swore and jammed
Sgaine Erion
into its sheath. “Someone give me a break already!”

He looked upwards in exasperation and barked an irritated laugh at the gesture. Yeah, looking up always helps! Damn it. Where
is
she? He glanced around the landscape already knowing it was empty. The deserted wasteland was completely inhospitable. 

Aisling wasn’t here.

She wasn’t in any of the 50 other planes he’d visited in the past two weeks. How many other planes are out there? He had no idea there were so many…He glanced down to see rubber oozing like hot tar from under his feet. The heat was blistering the soles of his boots. Okay, time to bolt. With one last look over the horizon, he pulled out
Sgaine Erion
and set the next path.

Rome, Italy:

The cathedral was as silent as a tomb at midnight. The doors were locked to keep out vandals and thieves, but he bypassed the locks and settled quietly in the vestry. His boots just touched the floor when he picked up the heartbeat of another presence nearby. He listened with both ears and mind.

Not human…definitely not angelic.

Grinning savagely in the darkness, he willed his heart to slow and be quiet. This was a time for subtlety.

A slight rustle of fabric drew his attention to the altar just outside of his concealment. The sound stopped. The heartbeat thudded quietly in the darkness and Killian recognized its owner. The stench of evil turned his stomach. It was dark and cloying, the smell of burning hair and flesh mixed with rock and earth. Gripping the blade in his fist, he stepped into the room.

“Finally! I was beginning to think you would hide in there all night.” He faced Killian with his hands in the pockets of a loose grey robe. The mocking smile was erudite as always and yet he threw off a distinctive evil vibe that sent Killian’s senses off the charts.

Killian met his eyes while mentally searching the pockets. They were empty, yet clearly Jordan wanted him to think they were hiding something. Inside the folds of material, his fingers clenched and unclenched as though they were grasping at something familiar. I’m not playing your little game, traitor. Toy with me all you want, I’m not biting. Instead of asking, he gave an I-could-care-less shrug and held the knife loosely in a ready position.

“That’s actually funny, Jordan. Why would I hide from the
butler
?” He studied his old friend with dispassionate eyes. Jordan wasn’t looking too good. His lean face was grey, his eyes sunken and bloodshot. The creases around his mouth and eyes were deeper than he remembered. He looked like shit. Well, when you make a deal with the devil…shit happens. And it was usually bad, as in terminal.

Jordan stiffened at the insult but tamped down his anger with obvious effort. He turned away and walked to the small font filled with holy water. After studying it for a minute, he held a hand over it and raised an eyebrow at Killian.

“Am I forbidden to partake?”

Leaning casually against a wall under a huge stained-glass masterpiece of Michael wielding an impressive burning sword, Killian said, “Take a drink and let’s see what happens.”

Jordan narrowed his eyes and fixed Killian with a hard stare. The evil eye? Seriously? Like that’s going to work on me, Killian thought.
Puh-lease
. He eyeballed Jordan thoughtfully while using the knife to clean his fingernails. Jesus, what a drama queen! Let’s just move on to trying to kill each other.