by Ciara Graves
I shoved at him again then when that didn’t work, aimed a punch at his face. He caught my fist easily, and I cursed my weakened state. “I don’t need you to be here.”
“You were attacked again. I’m here on official business, and I’m not leaving until you tell me what happened.” He didn’t let go of my hand.
All the speeches I gave myself about not letting him get to me, about shoving him away for the good of us both disappeared in a heartbeat. I wanted to kiss him, hug him. I wanted to forget the recent horrors of my life for a minute. Just one minute. His eyes flared red, and as if reading my mind, he leaned in and kissed me.
I winced as soon as our lips met.
He drew back.
I hadn’t realized my lip was split.
He started to apologize, but I tugged hard on his neck, bringing him close and kissed him, not letting him pull away.
When we parted this time, he tilted his head, studying me closely.
“What?”
“I expected you to punch me.”
“I tried.”
“So you kiss me instead?”
I shrugged. “What can I say? You’re catching me in a very weak state of mind.” I rested my forehead against his chest, and he wrapped an arm warmly around me. This was stupid of me. I should’ve kept shoving him away until he got pissed and left but having him there was right. And I hated it as much as I liked it. “I was sure I was going to lose him,” I murmured, clinging to his shirt. “They were attacking him, and whoever was with them, he, she or it or whatever, tried to hold me back.”
“Someone else was there?”
“Cloaked figure. Not sure if it was a man or a woman, but he was damned strong. And he controlled the gargoyles.”
“To come after you. Mercy, you have to admit now they’re targeting you.”
“Not going to argue with you there. Not anymore.” I gulped and chanced a quick look around, but there were no mages in the ER that I could either see or sense. “I think it’s the Gathered.”
“What?”
“One of them came to Gigi’s shop. They want me to join them. Basically flat out said things would get worse for me if I kept refusing. Then a few hours, later the gargoyles attack?” My breathing grew ragged, and I was dizzy.
“Your skin’s getting warm. Calm down,” Rafael urged.
“Trying.”
He placed his hands on my shoulders and looked me in the eye. “Breathe with me. In and out. Calm down. You’re with me. You’re safe. Damian’s safe.”
But his words did nothing to ease my growing fear.
Too close. It had been too damned close.
My scar throbbed. I winced at the pulsing pain.
There was something else I couldn't remember from the fight. What the cloaked figure told me. All I saw when I thought of the fight was the gargoyles trying to beat Damian to death.
“Mercy, walk me through it.”
I nodded, needing to tell him.
My words were jerky at first, then they flowed without an end in sight.
I crushed his hand when I got to the part of Damian going down and my letting my power rise.
Rafael said nothing the entire time.
I was grateful for it. If he interrupted me, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to go through it again.
“If the Gathered are after you, we need to get you somewhere safer.”
“We were getting ready to swing by your place and grab my stuff to do exactly that.”
“Where are you going to stay?”
“Damian suggested Bowen’s. He’s got a place outside of this sector and off the grid.” I waited for the growl or the argument.
Instead, Rafael nodded. “If Damian believed you’d be safe there, then that’s where we’ll get you.”
“Good.” I waited for him to move, but he stood there, lost in thought. “Rafael?”
“Huh?”
“I need my boots. And I’m not leaving until I check on Damian.”
He handed me my boots then my coat and helped me ease off the bed.
I was wobbly for the first few steps but picked up speed in my determination to see Damian. To personally see that he was alive.
We left the room and walked into the main part of the hospital.
Rafael asked where Damian was as I kept looking around for him.
The hair on the back of my neck had stood on end ever since we exited the room. I wanted to leave but leaving meant putting Damian in the hands of whatever was coming.
I clutched at Rafael’s arm when we neared a large waiting room on the way to the wing where Damian was.
“What is it?” Rafael’s hand slipped to his hip as he spun around slowly.
There were only a couple of people in the plastic chairs, most of them sleeping, or absorbed in their own problems.
The magic I sensed wasn’t coming from them. Oh, no. It was coming from a presence walking behind us.
I turned, just as two robed figures appeared at the end of the hall.
“Shit.”
Rafael placed himself in front of me without question.
I didn’t like his move, but if they were here for a fight, I’d be mostly useless until my strength returned.
The two mages stopped when they reached us, but their eyes darted to me.
“Mercy, we have come with regards to the messenger who spoke to you this afternoon.”
“Yeah and? Did he go running home to daddy to tell him that I was mean to him?”
The mages, both with bald heads and appearing to be in their late twenties, though they could have been older, exchanged grimaces. “He did. But as we were given to understand, he did not deliver the message in the manner discussed.”
“No shit? And what was that?”
“That we are giving you an open invitation to join us when you feel the time is right. It’s what your father would have wanted and what we still do.”
“All we ask is for you to consider our offer,” the second mage said.
“Why should I trust either of you? Or any of you, huh? Where were you the night my father was murdered? Or the night when I was cursed? Where?”
Rafael grabbed my arm when I tried to charge around him.
I shrugged him off, planting my feet as I glared the two men down.
“We were all deeply saddened by the loss of such a great mage, which is why we believe joining us is your best option.”
“We only have your best interests in mind.”
“My best interests,” I repeated quietly.
“Mercy,” Rafael whispered.
I held up my hand, cutting off whatever else he was about to say.
I took a step closer, then another, until I was in their faces. “How far are you willing to go, huh? How far? You going to make my life miserable? You going to try and hurt everyone I care for?”
The mages frowned. “No, I think there’s been a misunderstanding.”
“Please, we do not force any mage to join us.”
The one on the right reached for my arm.
I reacted on instinct, kicking him in the chest.
He slid down the hall.
The other one I grabbed by the throat and threw him into the wall, pinning him there. “Don’t you dare touch me. Don’t.”
He gasped but didn’t fight back. “You can trust us.”
“Can I? Funny, seeing as mages, more than any other race, have tried to kill me lately,” I seethed in his ear. “You go run back to the Gathered, and you tell them I will not be joining your ranks. Not now, not ever. And if you keep coming after me, I will rain hell down on you all. Got it?”
“Mercy, your powers. They’re unstable. Please, let us help you.”
I squeezed harder, cutting off his air. “I don’t need anyone’s help. Least of all yours.” I released him.
He opened his mouth to speak.
I punched him, uninterested in anything else he had to say.
Blood seeped from his mouth as he held it, hurryin
g to get to the other mage.
“I suggest you both leave,” Rafael said loudly. “And if I catch any word that you or anyone else from the Gathered has come back, I’ll be showing up on your doorsteps with arrest warrants.”
The mages nodded and hurried away, nearly tripping over their robes in their haste to flee.
Gods, it felt good to scare someone again.
I started down the hall, feeling more myself than I had over the last few days.
Rafael didn’t even lecture me, which was good, since I probably would’ve decked him, too.
When we reached Damian’s room, a doctor was there to fill us in on how bad a shape he was in. Fractured arm and ribs. Minor internal bleeding. And his face had been beaten to a pulp. But he was healing well enough. They were going to keep him for a couple of days to ensure he recovered well.
I thanked the vampire but didn’t go in the room.
“He’d want you to be there when he wakes up,” Rafael insisted. “Go on. I’ll fetch us some coffee.”
I took his hand as he turned to go. “Listen, I know this hasn’t been easy between us. You don’t have to stay. You got my statement. Your job’s over.”
His lips curled up in a sheepish grin. “Yeah. Not here for my job actually.”
“What?”
“Iris got what happened from several eyewitnesses. The gist of it, anyway. I came for you.”
He kissed my cheek as I stood rooted to the spot, torn between hurting him now, so he’d stay away, or hurting him later.
“I’ll be back with coffee.”
Not wanting to stand in the hall and sulk all night over my terrible choices, I stepped into the room.
The monitors beeped, and I dragged over a chair to sit beside Damian’s bed.
“I’m here,” I assured him, holding his hand. “Right here. Bloody stubborn demon, you should’ve let me take them on. But no, you had to go all macho demon on me, huh?”
His hand squeezed mine, but his eyes remained closed. His face was like one giant bruise, and there were bandages running up and down both arms. A cast covered the right arm. Another bandage was wrapped around his head.
I was sick to my stomach seeing him banged up like this. Now I knew what he felt all those times I came to him beaten up and bloodied.
Whenever he awoke, I knew the words that’d be coming out of his mouth. I told you so. He’d never let me live this down. Payback was certainly a bitch.
I scooted closer and rested my head on the edge of the bed.
At some point, I dozed off, only to wake when a blanket was draped over my shoulders.
Another chair scraped gently across the floor.
I peeked open an eye.
Rafael was in the corner of the room, keeping watch over us both.
What the hell was I going to do with this demon?
Chapter 9
Rafael
Mercy was asleep beside Damian’s bed. She hadn’t moved since we got there, but at some point, I would have to go.
Nor texted me updates, not that there was much to report.
The gargoyles and cloaked figure were nowhere in sight, and they had no reason to return. He set up Feds to keep an eye out around the street corner, anyway. The latest gargoyle attack wasn’t what had me watching the door to Damian’s room with a paranoid eye.
The cloaked figure. This was the first time he’d shown up.
And with Mercy believing the Gathered were after her. That they were trying to force her into joining them, I started to lean toward their being the ones who sent the gargoyles in the first place.
The others might’ve said they didn’t force anyone to join their ranks, but why else would they show up so quickly at the hospital? Or at Gigi’s place? Why wait until after the gargoyles attacked, to come and speak with her? Sherwood was hiding something. As were the rest of them. I wanted to step out and call Joseph, see if there was anything more that he could tell me about their recruitment process.
Or about Mercy’s dad.
There was so much more to the story of her parents. She had yet to tell me who her mom was.
I set my empty cup of coffee on the table and quietly pushed out of my chair to do another hourly check in the hallway.
Nor had sent another agent over to help me keep an eye out. He’d placed three more downstairs.
Gargoyles attacking the hospital would not end well. From what Mercy said, she had to use magic to repel them this time. With how shaken up she was after the attack, and then after dealing with the mages, she was in no shape to pull on her magic any time soon.
The hallway was clear.
I stayed in the doorway, watching over Mercy and Damian. She still held his hand, not about to let go.
For as much shit as they seemed to give each other, it was a relief to see their feelings come out. She’d told me a bit more about the fight. Damian had pulled the gargoyles away from her, so she could escape. And she would’ve, if the cloaked figure hadn’t arrived. Whoever the hell he was.
My temples throbbed suddenly. I sucked in a harsh breath as images flashed in front of me. Mercy and I were surrounded by people. Fighting them. Weres, humans, vampires. The massive dead tree was nearby, and my fingers dug into the doorframe as the fight raged on. Mercy screamed inside my head as she was wounded.
Then it was over, and I was back to looking at the empty hospital hallway.
I took a half-step, and then the images came again. This time, harsher. Envy was disappearing into the tree and escaping. That damned tree. Everything came back to it and the ley lines. The hybrids. I rattled my brain for the missing piece to the puzzle, but they continued to elude me.
There was a sound of rustling covers, and I turned to the room.
Damian’s eyes were open.
“Damian?”
He blinked at me, then attempted to move but didn’t seem to have the strength.
“Huh, so I survived after all,” he mused quietly. He tugged on his hand with a frown, then shifted his gaze to Mercy. His face softened, and worry flooded his eyes.
“She’ll want to know you’re awake.”
“She can wait,” he whispered. “Rafael, I need you to promise me something, right now.”
“I should be getting a doctor,” I said, but he reached out.
I moved closer, and he fisted his hand in my shirt, not letting me go easily.
“Promise me you will keep her safe.”
“I’ve been trying to,” I muttered.
He growled, and I shut up.
“They won’t stop, you hear me? They won’t stop until they get her. You have to keep her safe. Keep her alive and out of their hands.”
“Whose hands?”
“Everyone’s.” He watched Mercy and for the first time since meeting this half-demon I was amazed to see him look at her like she was his daughter. “She’ll never be safe. Never. No matter what happens, no matter what you remember, you have to swear to me you will keep her safe. This war is only getting started.”
I flinched. “War? What war? Damian, it’s just gargoyles and mages.”
“No, it’s much more than that. It’s always been so much more than that. They’re only the beginning.”
Same words Joseph said.
“The Gathered. We think they’re using the gargoyles to get to her, force her to join.”
He looked uncertain. “They want her, too. You can’t let her go to them no matter what they say or do. Understand me? If she goes to them, it’s the end of Mercy, you got it? They’ll kill her instead of saving her.”
“What, why? Her father—”
He pulled hard on my shirt, dragging me to his level. “They’re the reason her father’s dead. Why her mother’s dead. Why she’s cursed. You got it? You do not let them get their hands on her. We have to prepare.”
“Prepare for what? War? Damian, you’re not making any sense.”
“Yes, I am. You just don’t remember everything yet.”
“If there
is a war about to start, don’t you think the Feds would know about it?” I pointed out.
Damian’s face paled, but his eyes flared red with anger. “The Feds are blind. They always have been. This war will crash over us all, and if we’re not ready, we’ll be swept away on the tide. You hear me? It’s coming. She’s coming.”
“She who? Damian?”
His eyes fluttered closed, and the monitors beeped loudly. “Protect her, no matter what,” he whispered and then his eyes shut. The monitors beeped louder.
I yelled for help.
Mercy jerked awake, glancing from me to the monitors, then Damian. “No, you can’t leave me,” she ordered him. “Damian, don’t you dare leave me alone. I can’t do this without you.”
He smiled up at her, holding her scarred cheek in his hand. Then his hand hit the bed, and his heart stopped.
Mercy screamed as the nurses rushed in.
I pulled her out of the way, holding her securely in my arms as they shocked Damian to get his heart beating again.
It took too damned long, and with each failed attempt, Mercy screamed her anguish.
The steady sound of the monitor picking his beating heart back up filled the room.
With a sigh of relief, Mercy sagged in my arms.
“He needs rest now,” the doctor said, coming toward us. “Perhaps it’s best if you take her home.”
I nodded, more than ready to drag Mercy from the room, but didn’t offer a fight. She gave in, and after kissing Damian’s forehead, left the room with me.
I glanced back one final time, his words sticking with me. Protect her, no matter what. I would. I silently swore it to him.
Outside the hospital, I took one of the SUVs the Feds drove here in and headed for my apartment.
Mercy leaned her head against the window, not saying a word the entire ride. Her silence ate at me, but what could I possibly say that would make this situation any better?
When we were upstairs, and I locked the door behind me, she let out a furious shout and kicked the chair. She breathed heavily as I walked into the kitchen and pulled two beers from the fridge then handed her one.
“Feel better?”
“No,” she whispered, taking the beer. “Thanks.”
“He’ll pull through.”
