by C. J. Bahr
“Hush, mo leannan.”
“Simon wasn’t dead,” Uriel replied, stunning her.
“He drowned in a cave. Over and over again. How’s that not dead?” She demanded.
“The MacKays swore a sacred oath. When Alistair tried to kill him, the clan’s vow tied him to the earth, because you,” Uriel studied Simon, “were the absolute last male of your line. There was no one else left to protect the relic.”
Laurel tensed, remembering Simon’s agony just telling her of his drownings. There had to be a reason for all of his suffering. Her distress registered to him and his hand went to her thigh and made small, soothing strokes.
“Because of the vow and the Orb still in danger, Simon was held to his family’s oath. When Alistair tied him in the cave, he drowned, but didn’t die. He is neither living nor dead. Think of it as being in bodily limbo.
“In order for him to interact with your world, great power was needed. His drowning was the catalyst of energy needed to fill the battery. And as with all batteries, the charge depletes. His energy would last for little over a month and then needed to recharge. This was repeated until your family vow was fulfilled.”
“But why have you nae intervened?” Simon asked, bitterly.
The angel sighed. “Free will. This battle between good and evil is waged between men and women. I wasn’t allowed to interfere. But no longer. You have stayed true to your clan’s motto and remained steadfast. Your father, your clan and myself, are proud of you.”
Uriel pulled himself from his lazy stance against the wall, standing straight. “And now, Simon MacKay, it is time.”
“No! I willna desert her.” Any relaxation either she or Simon had achieved, vanished in a split second. Her pulse raced. She didn’t want him to leave.
The angel sadly shook his head once more. “It isn’t your choice. You are here solely because I stand within this chamber. Say your farewell and embrace your well-earned reward.”
Simon literally growled as he turned from Uriel and clutched her fiercely to him. She already missed him, her heart shattering into a million tiny pieces. She lifted her head from his chest and stared into his familiar silver eyes and gave him a teary-eyed smile.
“I love you, Simon. With all my heart and soul. I always will.”
“As will I, my love, mo leannan. I don’t want to leave you.”
“Just for a moment. I’ll be—” Her voice cracked, before she could control it. “I’ll be right behind you. We’ll be together, soon.”
“Aye, lass,” a single tear rolled down his face as he cupped her chin with his hand. “I’ll greet you like a queen. I love you, Laurel.” He leaned in and kissed her.
It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t soothing. It was raw, hungry and filled with claiming. She was his and he was hers. Why hadn’t she found him sooner?
He broke the kiss and stared at her, looking for the entire world as if he was trying to permanently etch her onto his soul. It was a look of desire, a willing fierceness that would not be denied.
“I love you,” he whispered. “Never doubt that.”
He began to glow and a sob caught in her throat. He grew brighter and brighter, yet she forced herself to watch, sitting on the ground as tears streamed down her face. He shimmered, then in a blink, he was gone.
“Simon!”
She collapsed, lying on the floor, sobbing, when time began to march once more. First she felt the chill that turned into a bitter cold. Her wounded thigh pulsed in time with her heart, which began to beat slower and stutter. Her tears dried with the realization she’d be with Simon sooner than she thought. Good. She couldn’t bare the separation. She wanted to be with him, she needed to be with him.
Laurel opened her eyes and watched as Uriel walked toward her. Would he aid her crossing over? Make it painless? His amber gaze glowed with empathy when he stopped and knelt beside her. He gave a gentle smile, then, magically, bronze-colored wings unfurled from his back spreading wide. They filled the chamber, curving around the walls. He gently gathered her into his arms.
“Have faith,” his whispered words slipped into her ears as his wings folded around her. “You are stronger than you realize.” Feathers softer than anything on earth covered and sheltered her. As his strong body held her and his wings embraced her, peace seeped into her soul. She gave in and closed her eyes.
Chapter Fifty-Two
The scent of freshly cut grass crept in and filled her nose. A comforting smell, reminding her of summer backyard barbeques and times with her family, when she had little to worry over except friends’ opinions and what boy might like her. Laurel reveled in the scent.
Lying on her side, her back was warm, but not hot, a perfect balance between sunshine and breeze. She felt embraced. Was she in Heaven? She was afraid to open her eyes. She’d been through so much and wanted Simon more than she could bear, but was worried Heaven shouldn’t smell and feel like a summer’s day.
Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to open her eyes. Midges circled her head. This wasn’t Heaven. She was pretty sure Heaven didn’t have bugs. Crestfallen, she bit her lower lip and her hands clenched into fists. Drained of everything, including tears, she went numb. Midges meant Scotland. She was still in Scotland, but at least above ground and not in that godforsaken cavern.
Why had Uriel lied to her and Simon? He had led them to believe she would die. It didn’t make any sense.
Laurel pushed herself upright and sat on the grass, light-headed and weak. She closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths, trying to gain some strength back. She felt weak as a newborn kitten. With a sigh, she opened her eyes and glanced down at herself, where she finally noticed for the first time she had been curled around the Orb. The large yellow diamond still radiated its impossible internal light. Was that why she was still alive? Uriel needed a new protector for his relic? She didn’t want the job.
She picked up the glowing Orb, and something clinked against the diamond and fell to the ground. Cradling the Orb in one arm, she searched with her free hand and found the MacKay signet ring. Holding it up, she stared at the sapphire, stomach twisting in grief. What was she supposed to do now? How was she going to go on living without Simon or Beth? She felt lost, alone. How does one heal a missing part of her soul?
She choked back the sob threatening to escape. Her first priority was getting the Orb to safety. There was no way she could protect it herself, so she needed a plan, but first, she needed to figure out exactly where she was. Laurel forced herself to look around. Surprised, she found herself in the little graveyard connected to St. Brendan, the church associated with the MacKay’s. From where she sat, she could see Murdoc MacKay’s angelic tombstone, more appropriate now when she knew of Uriel’s connection to the family.
Glancing down at the Orb, she thought about what to do. Uriel must have had a plan when he transported her here. She highly doubted she was meant to be the keeper of the relic. So the obvious path was probably the correct one. He meant the Orb for St. Brendan’s. Fine, she’d give it into Father Campbell’s keeping. At least she was clear on that single thought. Everything else in her head was blank, numb. She couldn’t seem to connect the dots and manage to think anything through. It was probably for the best or she might just lose it, since she rode the razor edge of sanity.
She should get up, before she decided never to move again. But would she be able to stand? She checked her thigh. Her jeans were still torn and blood drenched, but the skin beneath, however, was unmarred except for a thin white scar. Laurel felt her face. No tenderness and her lips felt smooth and not swollen. Uriel had both healed and saved her from the catacombs. Why? And why hadn’t he told Simon that’s what he planned on doing?
Shaking her head, she leveraged herself up, and stood. She swayed a bit with lightheadedness, but soon settled, and then she took a tentative step toward the church. When her leg still held, her stride increased until she was walking confidently through the cemetery and to the church’s side door. She
reached for the handle, when the door suddenly opened.
Father Campbell gasped at the sight of her, taking in her dirty and blood stained appearance. “Lass! My God, what’s happened to you?”
“Long story, Father,” she replied when she noticed the priest had fixated on the glowing ten-inch yellow diamond in her arms. “May I come in?”
“What? Of course! Please,” Father Campbell replied in belated courtesy and gestured for her to enter as he held the door open for her.
“Follow me.” He let the door close behind them as he led her to the back room where the leather journals were kept. It felt like years since she had come here to do research. Everything remained the same, the small room with its shelved lined walls, a simple wooden table with four chairs, and a faded blue woolen carpet on the floor. It didn’t seem right. Everything had changed for her, it wasn’t fair, her life had changed so drastically and nothing else had. The world was different for her.
With a great deal of stiffness, Laurel sat in the chair Father Campbell held out for her. She placed the Orb in her lap, but kept the ring clenched in her hand.
“Laurel, what’s happened? Are you all right?” Deep concern colored the priest’s question as Father Campbell’s gaze swept over her, but kept landing back to stare at the Orb in her lap.
She nodded, not quite able to speak. She felt lightheaded again, and her early numbness was disappearing to be replaced with body aches and pains and her shattered heart. She knew she looked like shit, because that’s how she felt. Her hair was covered in dirt and dust from the cave in, cobwebs were entangled around her body from her trek through the tunnels, and of course she was covered in drying blood, both hers and Beth’s. Though her outward appearance was dramatic, it didn’t hold a candle to the wound in her soul.
The Priest continued to stare at the Orb. “Lass, is that what I think it is?”
She met his gaze. “If you think it’s the Orb of St. Uriel, you’d be right.”
Father Campbell pressed his hands to his heart, a look of awe written across his face. “I never thought I’d ever see it…”
“So you know,” exhaustion laced her voice. “You knew. This Church was a part of the whole thing.” She was so tired of all the deceptions and conspiracies. She knew the Priest was involved when she had met him at the door with a glowing ten-inch diamond and hadn’t said so much as a word about it. It was kind of a hard thing to miss and he hadn’t made a single comment until now.
“Yes,” was his simple reply.
“Yeah, that’s what I figured.”
“Lass, having the Orb puts you in great danger. MacKenzie is looking for it. If he finds you with it…”
An unladylike snort escaped, Laurel. “Not really a problem. MacKenzie’s dead, Father.”
“Oh my…are you sure? MacKenzie would kill for the Orb.
“Ironic, considering the Orb killed him.” She sighed before continuing. “I witnessed his death. The relic caught fire and burned Alex alive, and then…” She swallowed hard. “He was crushed under a pile of rocks when the catacombs collapsed.”
Father Campbell crossed himself and then studied her intently, obviously taking in her disheveled and bloody appearance. “How is it you’re here?”
Laurel let the question hang. It was a good question. One she’s pondered since she first opened her eyes and found herself still living. The ache ran deep, would it ever disappear? She’d settle for numb again, if it would get her through her remaining days. When Uriel had wrapped his soft wings around her, she hadn’t thought she’d be returning to the land of the living. She had been okay with that, she’d miss her family, but her heart belonged to Simon. She should have guessed by Uriel’s parting words: You are stronger than you realize. What now? Everything was still so raw she really didn’t want to get into it with the Priest.
“Let’s just say a minor miracle,” she tried a small smile, but failed miserably. She picked up the Orb and held it out. “Here, Father. I believe he wanted you to have it.”
With trembling hands, he took the Orb from her. “He?”
This time she managed the weak smile. “Uriel.”
“My God,” the Priest whispered.
“Actually, an Archangel, Father.”
“Of course, you’re right,” he acknowledged. “Obviously you’ve been through an ordeal. A story, I wish you’ll share with me one day.” He stood. “But for now, I’d like to share something with you. I believe,” the Priest gestured to her. “You’ve earned it. Plus, since you were entrusted with this holy relic, I believe I can trust you with St. Brendan’s greatest secret.” He motioned for her to follow.
With slow tired steps, she left the room and trailed behind the Priest, who led her to the Archangels’ shrine. Upon entering, she froze. The shrine held seven statues standing in a half-circle. St. Michael with his sword stood in the center. On his left was St. Gabriel the messenger and on his right, St. Raphael the healer. But it was the angel on Raphael’s other side that caught and held her attention.
The sharp angled cheeks and nose, the square chin, the wide set eyes, without looking at the name on the placard on the statue’s base, she knew she was staring at the Archangel Uriel. He looked exactly the same, except here he was dressed in armor and carrying a crossbow. Definitely the image she would have guessed, unlike the handsome man in jeans that had appeared.
“Laurel, for form’s sake, I need your promise, a vow, that you won’t tell anyone about what has happened to you or what you’re about to see,” Father Campbell requested.
She pried her eyes away from the stone Uriel and met Campbell’s honest gaze. “Of course, you have my word.” An easy vow because she doubted anyone would believe her, anyhow.
“Indeed. However, you never know where your words might land and we don’t need another MacKenzie on our hands.”
She cringed. The world definitely didn’t need that kind of sociopath walking the earth.
“And now lass, be witness to the secret only the attending Priests of St. Brendan’s know.” He walked over to Uriel’s statue and knelt before it. She didn’t see exactly what he did, but in short order, a hidden panel opened and a chamber was revealed inside the statue’s base. Reverently, the Priest placed the Orb inside and just started to close it when Laurel remembered the ring still clutched tightly in her hand.
“Father, wait.” She stepped to his side and held out the signet ring. “I suppose you should have this as well.” She realized her hand was trembling.
Campbell reached out and curled her fingers back around the ring and held onto her closed fist. “I believe it would be acceptable for you to keep it.”
“Really?”
“Yes, I do.” He released her hand and closed the panel, making the base appear solid once more. He stood and gathered both her hands into his. Their warmth was comforting and her trembling stilled.
“Laurel,” his blue gaze filled with concern. “Do you need to talk?” He deliberately took in her ragged appearance before meeting her eyes again. “I’m here to listen. No judgments. It might help ease your burden. You’ve been though so much.”
She shook her head, trying not to cry. How could there be more tears left in her? When would the pain go away? “No, Father. Thank you, maybe in the future, but I can’t right now. I…I’m barely holding it together. I need some time.” She sighed. “In the meantime, I could use some help. I suppose the police need to be notified. MacKenzie shot and killed Beth.” Laurel swallowed a sob. “His body is crushed and buried in the catacombs below Cleitmuir. I’m not sure what’s happened to Grant…”
“Hush, lass. I’ll help. We’ll see this through together.”
He started to lead her out of the shrine when in afterthought; she stopped, and looked back. Each angel stood on a base identical to Uriel’s. Uriel’s statue now hid a priceless relic.
“Father?”
“Lass?”
She gestured to the statues. “Does each angel keep a secret?”
&
nbsp; Father Campbell’s answer was a simple smile.
Chapter Fifty-Three
Chicago Field Museum
October, Present Day
Laurel blinked, realizing she had been staring blindly off into space. It was a habit she’d caught herself doing these past few months. She leaned back in her office chair and lifted the necklace tucked away beneath her blouse. The sapphire ring at the end of the heavy silver chain sparkled in the fluorescent lighting of her windowless office. Fingering the ring, she studied her sleeping computer screen. She’d been out of it for at least thirty minutes. On a sigh, she tapped the keyboard, bringing her computer back to life. If only it was as easy to wake herself.
Since returning from Scotland, she had moved in slow motion as the rest of life passed her by. The colors surrounding her seemed leeched of brightness, conversations seemed pointless, and now her family was planning an intervention. She certainly had given them cause for concern since July.
Upon returning early from her long awaited and long anticipated vacation, Laurel had the pleasure of telling Beth’s parents and her own family of Beth’s death. Everyone was shocked of course and grieved as well. Everyone had loved Beth. That had gained her some time and an excuse for her anti-social behavior, but that pretext was quickly coming to an end.
Laurel kept mostly to herself in the basement of the Chicago Field Museum, and now even her colleagues were beginning to wonder about her. Usually prompt in her assessments of donations to the museum, her reports were lagging. Her boss had been giving her strange looks for the past week.
Maybe she should tell everybody the whole truth. That might buy her more time.
Please excuse my behavior everyone, not only was my best friend murdered in front of me, I fell in love with a ghost who then went into the light leaving me alone forever. I also watched an evil man burn to death then get crushed, and was personally saved by an Archangel from a horrible death. Oh yeah, and there was this priceless religious artifact, probably several, hidden inside statues in a tiny church, so please excuse me if I seem a bit distracted, it’s just a lot to take in.
