by Kimbra Swain
“Damn it, Tony. I think my ribs just cracked!” I teased. He laughed and motioned behind him. The silent brother, Tommy approached us, and I walked to him and hugged him tightly. “It is good to see you!”
He smiled, but did not speak. “Let’s drink!” Tony exclaimed. “We brought something back from the states that I think you will like. It’s called bourbon.”
“Sounds like a brilliant idea to me,” I said and turned back to Jay. “Will you join us?”
“He quit drinking,” Tony mocked.
“What? Why would you do that?” I asked.
“I don’t know, but I should start back,” he said.
“Absolutely!” I agreed.
Together, the four of us drank more alcohol than we should have. Tony absorbed it all. Tommy passed out on a chaise. I tried to temper my drinking, because although I’d had a few drinks in Northumberland, Lincoln would always restrict my intake. Tony asked about Lincoln, and I told him that he went back to France to finish a mission.
“Are you and he together?” Tony asked.
“Curse you, Tony Lemalu!” I shouted, and he laughed. “Why in the world would you ask that?”
“Seems to me the more people fight with each other, the more they actually like each other. And you two fight more than any two people I’ve ever known,” he laughed.
I turned to Jay, “Is that what you think, too?”
The liquor made his cheeks pink, and he smiled, “I always thought that, too.”
“Curse you too, Jeremy Stafford. Traitors, both of you,” I said.
“She protests,” Tony said.
“Too much,” Jay said.
I groaned. “Yes, the pair of you are Shakespearean scholars,” but I laughed at them.
Tony changed the subject, “So when are we going to make the new team?”
“You remember that?” I asked.
“Of course, you were planning it for a month in New York. When we heard that you survived the attack somehow, I started recruiting,” he admitted.
“Well, that’s great. Let’s get started on it tomorrow,” I stood up to head back to the main house, and wobbled a bit. Jay jumped up to steady me, but he wobbled too. Thankfully, neither of us ended up in the floor. He walked me to the entry and helped me with my coat.
“I’ll grab my coat and walk you back,” he said.
“You can barely stand. It’s just across the courtyard,” I said.
“No, Abby, I am walking you back,” he said flatly with no hint of inebriation.
Memories of that night flooded over me, and I focused on the dark crystal my other self gave me. The darkness dispersed, and I retained control. I opened my eyes, and Jay stood stunned again.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes, but I am different now. Sometimes I have to concentrate on the task at hand, and not get distracted by dark memories,” I admitted to him, and wrapped my arm through his as we walked out the front door into the cool night air.
“Is there anything I can do?” he asked.
“Yes, just help me get back to a normal routine. We will be back out in the field before too long, and I want all of you there with me,” I said.
“Even me?” he asked as we walked up the front steps to the main house.
“Especially you,” I said. “I know that no matter what happens that you will make the right call. Besides, your driving skills are far better than mine.”
He smiled. “Yes, they are, but I will teach you if you want to learn.”
“Of course!” I said. I pulled my arm away from him and turned go to into the house. He grabbed my hand.
“Swear to me that you don’t blame me,” he said. For whatever reason, he didn’t truly believe that I did not hold him responsible.
“I swear, Jay. You have never let me down,” I replied and squeezed his hand.
He smiled and said, “Goodnight, Abby.”
“Goodnight, Jay.”
The vampires in Paris had moved into the countrysides of northern France along the edges of the fighting. They enjoyed the influx of fresh meat. There were soldiers from all countries who would be sent back home in a pine box, but they hadn’t died of traditional weaponry. Part of what my team and I did included covering up these types of incidents. Eventually we were able to eliminate the threats, but we never located the original breeder. One day I would find Thibault Deschanel and personally cut his heart out. I headed back to Lisbon, but I’d been gone for far longer than I had intended.
The new year had rolled over in my absence. I arrived outside of the compound in the afternoon mid-January of 1918. I strolled into the building trying not to seem overeager. I had not heard anything from Abigail since I left. I walked down the hallways until I reached Gregory Theodoard’s office. He spoke on the telephone to someone, but waved me in. Sitting down across the desk from him, I waited until he finished his call. He quickly hung up the phone.
“Lincoln, welcome back. Fine job taking care of that little outbreak,” he said.
“Thank you, sir. I’m sorry that it got out of hand,” I responded. I sat quietly and waited for him to give me further instructions. He sighed, and his face grimaced.
“She is not here,” he said.
“Where is she?” I asked.
“On the island,” he responded.
“Why? What happened?” I started to panic. I remembered the day she almost gave herself to the Leviathan. I thought we had reached a point where she would be well again. I hadn’t told Hyperion about the Leviathan, but he seemed to know these things without being told.
“Will you stay with her there?” he asked.
“Is it a request or a demand?” I responded. I would do it either way. I don’t know why I asked.
“A request. She is well on the island, but she grew darker after you left. I’m not sure what malady still haunts her, but you were right that she wasn’t ready,” he said.
“She suffered from soul loss, but I thought we had overcome that part of her struggle. She accepted the darkness in her. At least, I thought she had,” I replied.
“I think more than anything you are a stabilizing force for her. A reminder that the darkness can be a part of you, but still not consume you. She may have made peace with that part of her, but it doesn’t mean that she isn’t still fighting its influence,” he said.
“Was there an incident?”
“No, I felt the darkness inside of her growing. I sent her to the island. George is there with her,” he said.
“George! How did you manage that?”
“I made sure that his daughter made it to the island, as well,” he said.
“I don’t know how you did that either,” I replied.
“Eons of connections, Slayer,” he answered.
“When should I go?” I asked. I felt the need to check on her.
“When you are ready, my brother has built a portal here in the closet,” he pointed back to the door on the left side of the room. “You may go through it as you wish, but I know you will not need it after your first trip there. You know what the island is, and you know it’s part of your realm. Travel there as you see fit. But you might want to discuss it with her. Just a suggestion,” he said, smiling.
“I’m sure she will insist that I discuss it with her, then she will tell me what to do,” I admitted.
He chuckled. “Lincoln, even when she returns to the fight, and she will, you are to stay with her.” He laid down the demand. Every fiber of my being hated to be compelled to do something, but Hyperion did not take these things lightly. One day I would like to express my anger at him for remaining aloof and distant, when what she really needed was family.
Thomas and I were under his thumb thanks to our mother. It’s a long story, but basically after I joined my father in the skies, my younger brother stayed home with our mother. Eventually he decided to join me, but the travel arrangements required some divine intervention. Mother prayed to the sun, the moon, and the dawn. Hyperion’s children.
They granted my mother’s request, but secured a future favor for their father. He called in the favor when the battle heated up to save the earth, and Thomas and I were recruited to work for him. Most days it felt good to fight again. Some days I missed my flint palace in the sky. Either way, I still had things to do on the earth. There would always be monsters to fight.
I nodded and conceded to his authority over me. I approached the closet door and opened it. A glittering portal flashed within its small confines. I held my breath and stepped through.
On the other side, I stood in a hallway rich with dark woods and the floors were elaborate tiles. Everything flowed in a Spanish style. A white-haired man waited for me.
“Master Lincoln, welcome to Casa del Sol,” he greeted me.
“Hello George, it’s a pleasure finally to meet you,” I said and offered him my hand. He shook it.
“If you would come this way, I’ll show you to your chambers,” he walked toward a staircase.
“George, where is Abigail?” I asked.
“She went for a walk and will return shortly,” he replied and headed up the stairs. He showed me the room. The house in Northumberland seemed small compared to this massive mansion. He then walked me back downstairs into a sitting room that opened up to a patio with a fountain splashing in the center of it. I noticed a small parlor off to the other side, and the next doorway led into a large dining room.
I turned to look at him as we stood in the sitting room. He smiled, “She is coming.” He nodded toward the patio. I walked toward the doors and peered into the courtyard. She walked through an arched corridor into the courtyard. For a moment, she didn’t see me, but she stopped and I felt her power move. It was warm and washed over me in the cool air of the afternoon.
“Shadow, show yourself,” she said.
I stepped out onto the patio. She smiled. “Hello, Abigail.”
“Welcome to the island. I didn’t know you were back from France,” she responded.
“I am, and your grandfather sent me here,” I said.
“I release you from whatever bond he’s put on you now,” she replied. I felt the weight of Hyperion’s command lift off of me. I wondered if he knew she had the power to reverse his edicts. He didn’t need to know.
“Thank you, but this place is nice. I think I’ll stay if you don’t mind,” I replied.
She sighed. “It will be an inconvenience, but I think we can tolerate you. Right, George?” she asked him. He stood slightly behind me. I hadn’t heard him approach.
“For now, we can,” he replied dryly. I looked at him and saw a glint in his eye.
“Well, I feel welcome,” I smirked.
“Dinner is ready, Abigail,” George said.
“Good. I’m starving,” she said and started walking into the house. I caught her arm as she passed. She looked me in the eyes and turned away.
“What happened?”
“He’s just not used to seeing the darkness. I tried to explain it to him. Maybe you can help him to understand. I do feel better here, and I may have struggled with it in Lisbon, but nothing happened. He overreacted, as usual,” she explained. I released her arm.
“We have plenty of time to discuss it, I suppose,” I replied.
“Why? Is he not sending you back out?” she asked.
“You are my current mission,” I said.
“I’m sorry. You really don’t have to stay,” she said.
“Let’s eat. Don’t keep a Watcher waiting,” I replied. I could feel the retired angel’s eyes piercing the back of my head.
She nodded, and I followed her into the dining room. We sat and ate. She asked about the vampires. We avoided touchy subjects for a week. Eventually she talked to me about the struggles still inside of her. I assured her that she would learn to control them, and I would help her along the way.
We spent almost 5 months on the island before returning to the real world. Thomas visited several times. He and I sat on the benches on the patio one evening. Abigail had just returned from riding her horse and went inside to clean up.
“How is she?” Thomas asked.
“She’s fine. We are here because he demands it. At some point, I’ll convince him that she’s ready to get back out there,” I said. “But if there isn’t some impending catastrophe, I’d prefer to just stay here. It reminds me of the home our father built.”
“It does, and I like it very much,” he replied. “But the home our father built doesn’t have a beautiful woman prancing around it.”
I shook my head. Every single time he visited he suggested there was more to my relationship with Abigail than there was. “You try staying here with her for a couple of weeks, and you will understand why that isn’t a benefit.”
“Please, brother, don’t lie to yourself. How long are you going to stand by and pretend that you feel nothing for her?” he said.
“As long as you keep implying that I do,” I retorted.
“I shall not mention it again,” he grinned.
“Mention what?” she said as she stepped out onto the patio. We both stopped to admire her for a moment.
“That Lincoln is a lucky man,” Thomas said, and I groaned.
“Yes, he is,” she smiled. “Come inside, so we can discuss it further.”
Thomas jumped up and offered her his arm, and she took it smiling at him. He walked inside with her. At the last moment, she turned back to me, her eyes flicked to violet, and she winked at me. I laughed, because I knew Abby controlled that part of herself. I smiled, because Abby winked at me.
EVEN ONCE WE returned to reality, Abby, and I came back to the island as much as possible. It helped her settle her mind. She’d come to terms with the darkness inside her, but she would never slow down. Her mind always went in different directions. She grew in power, and together we were a formidable team. Slowly, I realized that what my brother had said was true, but I couldn’t admit the feelings I had for her, not yet.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Thank you to my rock and support,
my husband, Jeff.
Thank you to my own personal canvas crew who make me a better writer by reading my stories before I release them to the world: Tabitha, Kristie, Aaron, Larry and Moragan.
Thank you to my wonderful editor Carol.
National Sexual Assault Hotline: 1-800-656-4673
You are not alone. Confidential help is available for free.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
From early in life Kimbra Swain was indoctrinated in the ways of geekdom. Raised on Star Wars, Tolkien, Superheroes and Voltron, she found herself immersed in a world of imagination. She started writing in high school, and completed her English degree from the University of Alabama in 2003.
Her writing is influenced by a gamut of favorite authors including Jane Austen, J.R.R. Tolkien, L.M. Montgomery, Timothy Zahn, Kathy Reichs, Kevin Hearne and Jim Butcher.
Born and raised in Alabama, Kimbra still lives there with her husband and 4-year-old daughter. When she isn't reading or writing, she plays PC games, makes jewelry and builds cars.
Kimbra is currently writing Book 2 of the Path to Redemption Series to be released later this year, as well as several historical short novellas for the series.
Find book one, Abomination, here.
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COMING THIS FALL
INTUITION
BOOK 2
THE PATH TO REDEMPTION SERIES
Two weeks ago, I trained canvas crews for The Agency in the basement of an underground military compound in Boulder, Colorado. A beautiful young woman struggled in that class to complete her training. She intr
igued and frustrated me. Abigail Davenport, magic wielder and granddaughter of my boss, disguised herself in an effort to recruit me to join her on a quest to revamp the Agency’s entire network.
Kenward, Blake, and Shanahan, Inc, also known as The Agency, was a multi-tiered global network established by Gregory Theodoard to monitor world financial, political and social events focusing on the supernatural elements that may be involved. Theodoard, who was the Greek Titan Hyperion, started the network to complete his divine duties which included insuring that the sun rose and set each day. In essence, his job was to keep the world turning. The Agency morphed with the ages, and its latest restructuring started in 1918 when Theodoard’s granddaughter, Abigail Davenport set out to revamp it to modern times. She took responsibility for adapting the network as the society and technology became more advanced.
We struggled at first to understand one another. My shifting abilities and tether to the spirit world drew her to recruit me, but we soon found out that no matter how perfect our talents aligned, our personalities did not. She deflects tension and avoids touchy subjects. I preferred to face things directly. It did not take long though, and I realized she would be the most important person in my life. I wasn’t sure she’d reached that conclusion about me yet. It didn’t matter because we were bonded. We still had many questions about the bond, and what exactly it meant for our partnership. However, I knew she was stuck with me, and I with her.
She saved me from an elemental gunshot wound that should have burned me from the inside out. We stepped into a nest of evil in Paris, and we somehow cemented our partnership. She died from the attack in Paris. To say the least, the operation had a few flaws. Thankfully, we’ve discovered she has a rather unique connection to the Archangel Gabriel, and he saved her.
We survived the attack by Meredith Spence, my former friend and her former partner’s long-lost daughter. We survived the collapse of the Boulder complex which Meredith triggered with a spell to set off a man-made earthquake. Abigail and I had an undeniable bond, and I felt it more clear as each day passed. We either lived through it together, or it would kill us both. For all the deep thoughts and questions, I only had one thing on my mind. I wanted a shower and a bed.
