by Jessi Gage
She recoiled from his tone. Don’t yell at me. I can’t do this. Just let me go. In heaven, she wouldn’t need to run from anything ever again. She would be safe. Forever.
When you are frightened or upset, where do you run? He asked quietly. If he’d kept yelling at her, she would have yelled back, but the wily angel gentled his tone, forcing her to consider his question.
I…I don’t know…
She’d run from the trailer when her mother’s mooch-of-the-month tried to hit her. She’d run from the hospital room when her mother used the last of her hard-won breaths to tell her what a disappointment she’d turned out to be. She’d run from her professor’s office when she’d asked how she could bring her only C up to a B and he’d said without hesitation he’d give her a B- for a lap dance, a B+ for a blow job, and for an A... She’d run from Boston when Brad hit her. She’d run from her house when that winged thing had attacked Emmett.
Just away from whatever hurts me. I run away. That’s all I know how to do.
Where, Jade?
She growled in frustration.
Think. Where do you run?
The time she’d run from the trailer, she hadn’t stopped until her little legs had carried her six miles and one town over to find Jilly at a friend’s house. She’d been ten. By the time she’d arrived at Betsy Frink’s, dark had fallen, her legs felt like rubber, and the soles of her feet felt like melted glue. But she hadn’t stopped running until she had her little sister in her arms. She’d needed her sister’s comfort, and she’d needed Jilly to know not to come home, not as long as Jeff was there.
The time she’d run from her mother’s hospital room, it had been into Grandma Nina’s waiting arms. “She doesn’t mean it,” her grandmother had said. “It’s the pain and the medicine. Your mom loves you, sweetheart. She’ll always love you.”
The time she’d run from her professor’s office, it had been to Maxi and Jocelyn at the Palace. It was because of the Palace her professor had wrongly assumed she would be willing to trade sexual favors for high marks, but it was also the place where she’d made some of the best friends she’d ever known. She’d worked a double shift that night, dancing out her frustration and laughing with her friends between sets.
When she’d run from Boston, it was to the safe haven of Grandma Nina’s house, where pumpkin-pie- and gingerbread-scented memories made her feel invincible and loved.
When she’d run from her house with Emmett, it had been to his house, which for some inexplicable reason felt even safer to her than the house that had shaped her fondest memories. It had also been the first time she’d run with someone by her side.
Where do you run? he gently prodded.
To family, friends.
Yes! You don’t run from anything. You run toward the ones you love best. You pursue them because they make your heart glad. Who do you love best?
Damn you, Joshua.
Who. It was a demand, not a question.
Emmett.
Run to him.
* * * *
Emmett was on his knees. It seemed the best posture for begging, and that’s exactly what he was doing. He had to convince Jade to marry him here and now.
“Please,” he said again. “Say yes. Please.” His gaze flicked to her body on the bed. Her chest was no longer visibly rising and falling. Her face was terribly gaunt. Dark hollows carved her cheeks, and purple half-moons cradled her eyes. She was dying. “God, please.” It was a prayer.
Chiboza pressed his hand. “Son.”
His heart stopped. He was going to say it was over. She was gone.
“She said yes.”
His heart restarted and did a somersault. He gaped at Chiboza. “Really?”
“We must hurry,” he replied. “Stand up.”
Nick hauled him up by his arm and thumped him on the back. “I knew it. You just had to ask from your heart, man.”
He barely had a chance to catch his breath before Chiboza said, “Repeat after me. Emmett first, then Jade. Bone, blood, flesh, and spirit am I.”
This was happening. It was really happening. It was so surreal.
“Say it,” Chiboza barked.
He started. Get it together, man. Your bride needs you. He put his hand on Jade’s cheek, inwardly cringing at how cold it felt, and repeated the phrase. Please don’t let this be too little too late. God, save her.
They were all silent, presumably while Jade repeated it. While he watched, a separate shadow formed beside Joshua. It took an achingly familiar shape.
“Jade,” he whispered. She was so beautiful, even as a semi-solid shadow.
Chiboza led them through the rest of the ritual, pausing each time it was Jade’s turn. “Bone of my bone, I shall walk with thee…Blood of my blood, I would die for thee…Flesh of my flesh, I will serve thee…Spirit of my spirit, I cleave to thee.”
He wished he could hear Jade’s voice as she said the vows. He wished her hands were holding his back. He longed to gaze into her energetic, hazel eyes as he pledged his entire being to her. Was she doing this because she didn’t want to die or because she loved him? It didn’t matter. He loved her. She needed him. That’s all that mattered.
“By the grace of God, this bond shall not fail ’til death,” Chiboza said, and he released a tense breath.
Emmett felt it then, a steadying weight of responsibility. Pastor Tim liked to say that men are like pick-up trucks. They perform best under a load. For the first time in his life, he understood that. He was responsible for Jade, now. Ensuring her wellbeing was his duty and privilege. He was her husband.
His chest puffed with pride. His spirit soared with joy.
“It is done,” Chiboza said.
In the next second, Jade’s body bowed on the bed. A horrifying rattle came from her chest. Her eyes flew open and they were pitch black.
The two shadows swooped over her.
Emmett lunged to protect her, an instinctive reaction.
Chiboza grabbed him around the waist and held him back. Nick, too.
“What’s happening?” He couldn’t stop struggling to get to her, even though he knew he had to trust the angel.
“The power of Christ is pushing the evil spirit out of her body,” Chiboza said. “The angel is putting Jade back where she belongs.”
* * * *
Jade had taken shadow form because the vows needed to be spoken aloud. Emmett’s strength helped her withstand the crazy wind whipping at her. She couldn’t see him, but she could hear him faintly. And she could hear the deep voice of Nick’s mentor.
The last of the vows had barely passed her shadow lips when Joshua commanded, “Back to essence. Now.”
It would have been nice to bask in the glow of recent matrimony, but, alas, eviction of evil called. Feeling wonderfully, surprisingly giddy, she obeyed.
Quickly, Joshua urged.
Like before, he guided her toward the warm resonance of her body. The musical vibration was a mere echo compared to the first time she’d reentered her body.
Goodbye, Jade.
Joshua? She resisted sinking fully into herself and held tight to the angel. There was something she needed to say.
There is no time, my dear.
I don’t want to forget any of this.
Jade—
Just promise me you’ll try to help me remember. I don’t want to forget getting married. I don’t want to forget you.
He huffed with annoyance, but she sensed his amusement. I’ll do my best, but it is not up to me. He gave her a shove toward the weak resonance. Go.
She went.
* * * *
It was over almost as soon as it began. One second, the shadow covered Jade like a shield. The next, there was a burst of wind and a flash of light. For a split second, Emmett glimpsed gilt wings stretching from wall to wall. When he blinked against the brightness, the sight was burned onto his retinas like the after-image of a lightning strike. Then his bedroom fell eerily quiet and there was just him, Nic
k, and Chiboza standing around the bed. And Jade looking so small and frail on it.
She was utterly still. Her eyes were hazel and open. Her face was ashen. Her lips were parted as if she’d just breathed her last breath.
He lunged for her, searching for a pulse at her neck. “Will she be okay?”
The shaman said, “Let us hope so.”
Chapter 28
“Jade? Honey?” Emmett pressed two fingers under her jaw, searching for a pulse. Not feeling anything, he adjusted the position of his fingers. Still nothing.
“She doesn’t have a pulse,” he said, the words getting stuck in his throat.
Nick swooped in and sliced his pocketknife through the twine at her wrists. “Get her on the floor. I know CPR.”
Emmett cradled her in his arms and lowered her to the floor. She was lighter than she should have been. Much lighter. If he thought about that too hard, he’d lose it.
Once he had her on the floor, he positioned his hands over her sternum and began compressions—he knew CPR too, and he would be the one to give it. She was his wife.
His wife.
He swallowed a lump of anxiety and breathed into her mouth. His breath filled her too easily, like there was no life inside to offer resistance. She was a husk.
Tears pricked at his eyes.
“Call 9-1-1,” he told Nick as he continued the compressions.
Chiboza appeared beside him. He stretched a tourniquet around her upper arm and swabbed the underside of her wrist. “Fluids,” he said. “She is extremely dehydrated.” He inserted a needle and started an IV. “Despite what I said earlier, I would not involve the authorities at this point, if I were you.”
He was more concerned about the fact her heart wasn’t beating than about her being dehydrated. “Nick. Call 9-1-1.” He didn’t give a damn about “the authorities.” This was his wife, and she was dying…or dead already.
“God, please,” he prayed.
Suddenly, Jade’s chest jumped under his hands. She drew in a shallow breath.
He stopped the compressions.
“Check her pulse now,” Chiboza said.
He did. It was there. Barely. “It’s weak.”
“She’ll grow stronger as the fluids hydrate her.”
He ignored Chiboza and shot a glare at Nick. Why wasn’t he on the phone with EMS? “Nick,” he said, and he cut his eyes to the phone in his buddy’s hand. It was a warning.
Chiboza’s hand rested warm on his shoulder. “Modern medicine cannot help her. This can.” He indicated the bag of fluids tethered to Jade’s arm. Behind the shaman was his open backpack. The medical equipment must have been inside. How often did he deal with this kind of thing? How common was possession?
He thrust the useless questions from his mind. While they all watched, Jade’s cheeks grew pink and her skin plumped over her bones.
Nick gave a nervous chuckle. “What’s in there, holy water?”
Chiboza leveled a look at his student. “Among other things.” He met Emmett’s eyes. “Her body has been ravaged by the entity, but this will go a long way to restoring her. So will a good meal, one heavy in protein. A glass of wine would not be amiss.”
Amazingly, she looked a lot better already, but he didn’t think she was in any shape to eat a meal.
“Have a little faith,” Chiboza said, and then he handed the bag of fluids to Emmett and stood up. “Keep it elevated,” he instructed. Then he went downstairs.
Nick clapped him on the back then wordlessly followed his mentor.
He knelt beside Jade and prayed for her. He smoothed his free hand over her hair, watching it grow glossier by the minute. The bag collapsed in his hand as the mysterious fluid slid into her veins.
Finally, she blinked and focused on him. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips. “Emmett?” Her voice was the most precious thing he’d ever heard.
“I’m here.” He wanted to drag her into his arms but was terrified of hurting her. He settled for brushing his thumb over her smooth, pink cheek. “I’m right here.”
Her forehead creased with confusion. “What happened?”
“What do you remember?”
She licked her lips again. “I was in the library with Nick and then...” She frowned. “Darkness.”
The bag emptied. He twisted the valve on her IV and set it down. His stomach dropped as he asked, “Do you remember anything else?”
Her eyes got a faraway look. She rocked her head on the carpet. “But I feel…bad.” She took a shuddering breath that ended in a sob. “Really bad.”
“Oh, honey.” He pulled her into his arms and held her as she wept.
She didn’t remember being possessed. That was good. But she also didn’t remember the vows they’d exchanged. That was enough to pull tears from him, too.
* * * *
Mercy tried to scream as wind ripped at her essence, but without a mouth, her terror was reduced to a single frantic thought. Draonius, save me!
Is it still Draonius your soul turns to and not the Lord?
She knew that voice. The wind abated, and she realized it was because her former fiancé was sheltering her.
How? She asked, too weak to voice her surprise that Joshua was whole. She’d watched Draonius release him. He should have dispersed.
It was the will of God that I continue, was his inadequate response.
She wasn’t about to complain. She’d been about to disperse and hadn’t felt Draonius anywhere. He’d cut their bond hours ago, probably to save his strength, and no doubt after much hand-wringing over her welfare. How pleased he would be that she’d survived the ordeal. He would be disappointed that they had lost Jade, but they both knew they had attempted the near impossible. Now that it was over, they could be reunited and try again with different mortals. She just had to get away from this house and the blessing that kept Draonius from reaching her.
She nestled into Joshua’s embrace for the safety it offered. Glancing up to find his shadow face solemn and surrounded by the blue chaos of the physical plane, she said, I’m glad you’re not dead. I missed you. Take me away from this place, please.
So you can reject Draonius and his wickedness and turn to God?
She refrained from scoffing with difficulty. Of course, she lied. Just take me away from this blessed house, and I will worship your Lord.
He considered her with a look bordering on pity. He’s not waiting for you. He meant Draonius, of course.
His words were not unkind, but they made her wish she had the strength to take form and slap him. He lied. Or he was merely ignorant. Draonius was surely close by, waiting for her to make her way to him, as eager for their reunion as she.
But God is waiting, Joshua said before she could respond. He loves you even though you have done nothing but serve his enemy for the past century.
Ha, she spat. Enough of this charade. You have been serving Draonius too. If God favors you enough to let you continue, then he’ll favor me as well. Release me so I can find our master.
I speak the truth. You’ll not find him waiting for you. I felt him sever your bond.
He only cut the bond to conserve his strength. He’ll always wait for me. He loves me.
But God—
Your God never did anything for me. Now let me go!
You misplace your faith, Mercy.
No. You misplace yours. You thought you belonged to God, and yet he abandoned you to Draonius. And didn’t Draonius keep you safe for a century?
I was a prisoner. So were you. You were just too blind to see it.
She laughed. I was never a prisoner. I am his favored essence. He loves me. He needs me, and I need him.
You need the Lord, he pleaded, and she realized just how pathetic he was, how pathetic he’d always been. Can’t you see? If I let you go, you will be sorry. I promise, you will be sorry. Let me help you. Have faith in the Lord of Hosts.
No. Let me go. I want Draonius. Struggling in his shadow arms, she called, Draonius! I’m h
ere. Come for me! With the last of her strength, she wrenched out of Joshua’s embrace and lunged for the prickly barrier of the blessing. It was just there, only barely out of reach. Just a little farther.
She’d made it! She held herself together long enough to leave the place where Draonius could not get to her. She cried his name, urging him to hurry and gather her to him before the wind ripped her apart. She forced herself to take form long enough to scan her surroundings for the blackbird.
There! She spotted him on the roof. Why was he prone? Was he too weak to stand? Was he injured?
She pushed toward him, wondering why his familiar warmth wasn’t reeling her in. Draonius! Draonius, I’m coming! Bits of her essence tore away and flew into the storm. No matter. Draonius would restore her. He would find a way for them to feed. All would be well once they were together again.
With a final lunge, she reached him and stretched her tendrils to touch his welcoming core of power. But the body of the blackbird was cold. Dead. An empty shell. Draonius was not inside.
Draonius! Where are you?
More bits of her essence tore free. Then more. She was dispersing. She was dying.
Suddenly, a dome of stillness settled over her.
Pitiful creature. A cruel voice punctured her thoughts. You think he would wait for you when you failed him so miserably?
Despite the harsh words, her essence began to rapidly rebuild itself. Someone was feeding her. Someone who was not Draonius.
Who are you? she asked as she took form enough to see brown wings engulfing her and a blood-red iris watching her with unblinking intensity.
Your new master, said the voice, and then pain drew her tight as a wire. You should have listened to the angel. You’ve had your last taste of…Mercy. A laugh like scorpions on glass drove her to the edge of insanity, and then beyond.
Chapter 29
Jade clung to Emmett as terror pulsed through her like a residual echo. It gradually receded as he stroked her hair and murmured, “We’re okay, now. Everything’s going to be okay.” She might have believed him if he hadn’t been trembling.
