She swallowed and nodded.
Morgan woke from where she dozed, burrowed deep under one of the pines at the edge of the park. A few feet behind her, the ground swept down to the South Platte River. From where she lay with her back against the trunk, she peeked out through the lower branches that brushed the ground.
Somewhere in the park, Jake slept on a bench. Morgan wasn’t sure where, they’d gone in different directions. It was safer if Jake didn’t know where she slept. She was pretty sure he wouldn’t actively seek her out if an episode came over him, it was usually a problem of proximity. Even so, she wasn’t taking chances, especially since she didn’t have Lucy with her anymore.
Embracing her power, Morgan listened to the night with heightened senses. Light footsteps were coming through the slowly greening grass toward her sleeping place. A pair of sneakers walked into her line of sight. She tracked them as they paced a half circle around the tree then stopped in front of her.
“I know you’re in there,” a voice said. One she recognized immediately.
“Isobel?” Morgan crawled on her hands and knees through the semi-tunnel she’d made in the limbs earlier that night, dragging the backpack with her. Once free of the tree, she stood and faced the woman who had been her friend only a few months ago. Who probably still considered herself a friend even if Morgan had pushed her away. “What the hell are you doing out here in the middle of the night?”
“I could ask the same of you, given that you have a place to go.” Isobel frowned at her in the light of one of the few lamps around the park.
“Ugh. Not you, too.” Morgan released her power, shouldered the backpack and started walking. “What, did Lucian find you and ask you to come lecture me or something?”
Isobel fell into step beside her. Morgan shot her a glare wishing she would go away and at the same time hoping she didn’t. Isobel was a reminder of a more stable time in her life. It was both a pleasurable memory and one that held the ache of loss.
“This isn’t just about Lucian, though I do think it’s foolish to refuse the help of your dark angel.”
“If not about him then what?”
Isobel grabbed Morgan’s arm and pulled her to a stop. “How could you do that to me? I thought we were friends. Then Arabrim dies and you disappear. I thought you were dead!”
Morgan blinked at the sudden flash of hurt anger in her friend. “It was better you thought that. I bring death with me everywhere I go.”
“Oh, Morgan. No you don’t.” Isobel’s expression softened. “Arabrim’s death was tragic, but you didn’t cause it. If you had come to Damien and me, you would have had a warm safe place to be all this time.”
The demon-possessed in the alley lingered in her mind and Morgan shook her head. “I couldn’t come to you. I still can’t. I will not watch what will happen to you if Damien dies or what will happen to him if the other way around was to happen.”
“I have died early many times before. If it happens again, Damien will become a free agent and protect someone else.” Isobel gave her a small smile. “If he dies, I will continue to banish demons with the help of another until death comes for me, too. And then we will be together again. I will miss him terribly. That said, as much as I love Damien, my ability to live and function doesn’t hinge solely on him.”
Morgan shrugged. “I know that, it doesn’t mean I want to be the cause of your pain.”
“You wouldn’t be. Demons would be.”
Glancing around the dark, deserted-looking park, Morgan thought over Isobel’s reasoning. If it had just been Arabrim, then maybe what her friend said would make sense. But it wasn’t just him. It was her parents, then her sister, Tara, less than a year later then her best friend after that. There had to be some kind of freakish bad luck that followed her and only affected those she cared about.
In an attempt to not think about it anymore she said, “So where are they?”
Isobel raised an eyebrow. “Who?”
“Who,” Morgan snorted. “Damien and Thor.”
“Thor?” Isobel frowned then understanding dawned and she laughed. “I guess he does kind of look like some sort of Viking god doesn’t he? Don’t ever let him hear you call him that. The last thing Lucian needs is a bigger head.”
“So where are they? I know they didn’t just drop you off in a crappy part of town and then go out for beers or something.” Morgan swept her gaze over the park as she started walking again.
“They’re around,” Isobel sighed. “They aren’t in the immediate vicinity. Lucian is trying to keep his promise that you won’t see him again unless you want to.” She glanced sideways at Morgan. “He’s a really good guy, you know. And unlike Arabrim, an ancient. You would be safe with him.”
“I have no doubt I would be.” Morgan stuffed her hands into her pockets and stared at the ground. “That’s why he needs to stay away. There’s something the demons in this city want and it has to do with me. If I let Lucian stand with me, there’s every chance he will end up like Arabrim. And I…”
Damn it, she hated to admit any weakness but with Isobel standing in front of her, the first person she could truly talk to about this kind of thing since Arabrim’s death, she felt the need to say it. “I don’t think I could survive that again. I’m a strong person. I’ve had to be…” She glanced away. “Even the strongest steel breaks under enough pressure.”
“You know there’s every chance Lucian would be just fine.” Isobel eyed her with concerned sympathy.
Morgan nodded. “I’m afraid to take the chance. Arabrim was someone very special to me. He was kind of like an older brother, even if he was more controlling and bossy than I liked. I lost a piece of myself when I lost him and the pieces that are left are fractured and barely held together. If I let Lucian in and he dies, I will break and all the kings horses and all the kings men…”
“Will you at least promise to call us if things get too bad out here?” Isobel asked, her tone resigned.
“I can’t promise.” When she saw Isobel about to protest she added, “I will promise to think about it.”
“If it’s all you can do then it’s what I’ll take.”
Isobel looked unhappy about it, but it was the best Morgan could offer. Out the corner of her eye, Morgan caught a shift in the shadows. If wasn’t for the fact she was hyperaware of her surroundings, she wouldn’t have seen it. A swirl in the air that brought the scent of whiskey and cigarettes eased the tension humming in her body. “It’s just Isobel, Jake.”
“Jake?” Isobel whirled around.
He stepped into the glow of the lamp and walked toward them “I wasn’t sure if someone was bothering you again. Nice to see you, Isobel. It’s been a while.”
“It’s good to see you too, Jake. And it’s been too long.” Isobel smiled at him.
“What are you and Damien up to these days? You two kind of fell off the face of the earth after Arabrim died.”
“We’re up to the same old thing,” Isobel answered vaguely. “And if we’d had any idea Morgan was still alive, you can bet we would have been around a lot more. Since she decided to completely disappear…” She spread her hands.
Jake shrugged. “Sometimes people don’t have a choice in the things they do.”
Morgan smiled slightly. Even though he was plagued by his own issues, Jake would always have her back. She glanced at Isobel. “You better go.”
Isobel gave Morgan a hug which she returned awkwardly. Jake was the only person she was comfortable having in her personal space. Arabrim had always been careful to stay out of it, unless it was necessary because they needed to get away from too many demons.
Morgan watched her friend cross the park. As Isobel neared the edge, two tall figures broke away from the shadows. Morgan turned and walked in the opposite direction as she lit a cigarette.
A part of her desperately wanted the safety and security a dark angel could provide. The other part needed to stay away. The internal conflict piled on top of lack
of sleep, the fear of what it meant that demons were actively seeking her out and speaking to her, and the sorrow of too many losses that she tried to keep buried deep.
Jake fell into step beside her as he unscrewed the cap of a whiskey bottle and took a swig. Morgan eyed the bottle a moment then held out her hand.
Jake gave her a sharp look. “Since when do you want whiskey when you’re on the move?”
She motioned impatiently for the whiskey. “I just want to be numb for a little while and damn the consequences. Please, Jake. I need this right now.”
“Okay,” he answered as he handed it over. “I can understand the need to be numb.”
The harsh scent wafted from the bottle. Morgan tipped it back and took a gulp. It burned down her throat in a fiery rush, taking her breath away. She choked and coughed, then gasped and coughed some more. When Jake’s laughter registered she shot him a glare.
Still chuckling he said, “There’s an art to drinking cheap whiskey, Morgs.”
“I’ve drank your whiskey before, but damn, this stuff is rotgut. It’s cheap, even for you. What happened to the stuff you normally drink?” She wiped away the drips that had spilled down her chin.
“Couldn’t afford even that this month.” He gave her a worried look. “You sure you want this with everything that’s going on?”
After catching her breath, she took another, smaller swallow. This one didn’t burn as much as the first and she breathed past it. “Screw it. I don’t want to care tonight. If I’m still alive in the morning, I know I’ll regret this. Until then…” She shrugged.
The third swallow was even easier. A couple more and she quit caring. As the night progressed, every worry she had was buried under thick layers of the cheap whiskey.
PIERCING LIGHT STABBED through Morgan’s lids and into her brain. With a groan, Morgan held her hand up in an attempt to block it. She tried to squint only to realize her eyes were still closed. The taste of stale whiskey coated her cottony mouth. She rolled to her side with another groan. The ache in her head throbbed. Cracking her lids open, she tried to look around.
Jake sat on the ground a couple of feet away, ankles crossed leaning against the trunk of a tree. “Good afternoon.”
“Afternoon?” Speaking made her head hurt more. She lowered her voice to a whisper. “You been there all day?”
“I couldn’t very well wander off and leave you passed out in the park. Jesus, Morgs. You don’t think much of me do you?” He frowned.
“Can you talk any louder?” Morgan pressed a hand against her forehead. “I just know how much you hate the park during the day.”
Jake lowered his voice. “Maybe. Just the same, I had to stay.”
“Thanks,” she whispered.
“Don’t mention it. Here,” he handed her a bottle of water, “drink this, don’t chug it.”
Morgan sat up slowly and reached for the water. After taking a couple of sips, she scooted carefully across the grass until she could lean back against the trunk of a tree. “Damn, my head hurts.”
Jake nodded. “A byproduct of feeling numb for a few hours.”
“I know. Been here, done this before. Wish I could get rid of it.” She set the water bottle down and rubbed her temples.
“I get rid of it by drinking more whiskey. I wouldn’t advise you do that, though.” He shrugged. “It will pass after a while. You’ll probably still feel like shit for the rest of the day.”
“Thanks for reminding me.” Morgan closed her eyes against the bright sunlight and listened to the soft breeze sighing through the trees of the park. Jake’s chuckle floated through the air.
Somewhere, a horn blared. Morgan contemplated finding the owner of the horn and killing them, but at that moment, it felt like too much effort. Instead, she wished lice or scabies or something equally gross and annoying on whoever it was.
They sat in silence for a long time while she sipped the water. Finally, she opened her eyes a crack again. “You can go now. You don’t have to babysit me.”
“If you have anything in your backpack to eat, you should have some of it.” He didn’t move. When she continued to stare at him through the slits in her lids, he sighed and said, “When you’re on your feet and seem reasonably capable of taking care of yourself, I’ll be on my way.”
“Fine.” Wincing at the jackhammer that continued to run full tilt inside her skull, Morgan reached over and dragged the backpack closer. She dug inside for the sub sandwich she’d bought the day before with the gift card. It didn’t look that appealing, she bit into it anyway.
Though Morgan gave it a valiant try, she couldn’t get more than a few bites down before rewrapping it and shoving it into the backpack again. She took a sip of water to wash the last of it down. Even with the construction crew demolishing her brain, she felt a little better.
After digging out a cigarette and lighting it, she glanced at Jake. “I think I’m recovered enough.”
He nodded and got to his feet. “If you say so.”
“I do.” As he started to walk away she said, “Hey, Jake.” He half turned to look back at her. “If I suddenly disappear, don’t worry about me, okay?”
Jake studied her for a long moment. “That guy that was looking for you, the one you sent Lucy with, he’s like Arabrim isn’t he?”
Morgan frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I’m not stupid, Morgan. I knew there was something different about Arabrim. Whatever it is, Damien and the blond guy are like he was.” Jake gave her a sad smile. “And I know there’s something different about you too.”
“I—”
“Don’t try to deny it.” He walked back quickly and knelt in front of her. “It’s okay. I know I can’t know whatever it is. I just want to say, last night you laughed and joked. I haven’t seen you that relaxed since Arabrim died. He was good for you even if I didn’t get to see you as much. It didn’t take whiskey to make you relax. I think this other guy might be good for you in the same way.”
Jake paused and seemed to struggle with something before finally saying, “I don’t have anywhere to go, or anyone to go to. I’m about as alone in this world as a person can get and I can’t change that. But you have people who care about you and a place to go. Don’t brush that off. Maybe you should try giving it a chance again.”
Morgan stared at him in disbelief. Not only was it the most she’d ever heard Jake say at any one time, he was saying exactly what a piece of her wanted to hear. What a piece of her secretly craved.
Jake’s earnest gray eyes searched hers. “I know Arabrim’s death screwed you up in ways I truly do understand. You still have a chance, Morgs. Take it.”
He straightened abruptly and walked away.
Morgan watched him go while inside the need to stay away and need to seek the safety net of a dark angel began to rip apart her insides again to the tune of the fading throb behind her eyes. Higher Powers knew she wanted to give into his advice and she’d promised Isobel she would think about it.
Slowly, she got to her feet and started walking. The lack of Lucy at her side was suddenly overwhelming and she felt more alone than she ever had in her life. Before Arabrim had found her, she’d been happy to just be alive and free of the terror that hung over her life at her last foster house. Living moment to moment had been enough.
Arabrim changed that, given her something else to want, a chance at a normal life. As normal as any channel could have. In a way, she hated him for giving her so much only to die and snatch it away in the process. In the same way she was still a little angry at her parents for dying and leaving her to a foster system that had sent her sister to another home at a time when they’d needed each other the most.
And that was what scared her as much as anything; getting that kind of life again with the possibility of the rug being yanked from beneath her feet. It had been hard enough to shift back into this life after Arabrim, and Morgan wasn’t sure she could do it again without a mental break. There had been too many wi
ld swings in her life.
Alone and lost in thought, with the slowly fading hammers working away in her head and a general all over sluggish feeling, she walked aimlessly through the streets. The phone in her back pocket seemed to weigh a ton, making each step an effort as she struggled with conflicting needs.
Looking at it from a logical perspective, there was no reason not to accept what Lucian offered. If only she could separate her emotions from the decision. And so she kept moving while Jake’s words chased each other around her mind and her heart ached for the connection being around someone who knew about her powers would bring.
At the same time, the sense of self-preservation that kept her alive warned that something bigger than just random demons was brewing and if she wanted to remain counted among the living she needed Lucian.
The sun slowly sank in the west, casting the long shadows of late evening before she finally managed to force her emotions and logic together into a scary yet hopeful decision. Morgan fished a cigarette out and lit it, hoping it would help soothe the sudden anxiety that gripped her. She shook her head and took a deep drag. If it all fell apart and sent her around the bend, then she could wander around with Patsy and sing about bats and cats.
Changing course, she started walking toward the town of Golden where Damien and Isobel, and according to the card he’d left, Lucian lived. She’d been to their house several times with Arabrim. It might take all night to walk there, but at least then she was arriving under her own power. Somehow, that seemed better than having them come pick her up like some wayward child.
The memory of her fifteen-year-old self getting picked up by the police for running away filled her thoughts. She could still taste the fear when the cruiser pulled up outside the house, the same house she would finally escape a few months later; feel how her hands shook as she grabbed the backpack she’d taken with her and stepped from the car. How no one believed her foster father was abusive. How he and her foster mother lied through their teeth and been believed because Morgan had caused too much trouble at her other foster homes to ever be telling the truth. How painful that first night back had been.
Bound by Legend: A Bound Novel Page 7
