Personal Demons

by Lisa Desrochers

  “Hey,” Gabe says, and I feel his finger under my chin, lifting my face to look at him. When I look at his face, he’s smiling, and the pain is gone from his sparkling blue eyes.

  “What?” I ask. “What happened?” I look up at a smiling doctor in green hospital scrubs.

  “Your friend is out of surgery,” the doctor says. “I truly can’t explain it, short of a miracle. They resuscitated him in the ambulance, but he was in bad shape when he got here. We lost him for a long time on the operating table, but we were able to get him back. He really shouldn’t have survived …”

  “So … what are you saying?” The desperation in my voice rings clear.

  “It looks like he’s going to be fine. We’ll know for sure in the next few hours. Just keep praying.”

  My heart explodes into a million pieces and I start to hyperventilate. Tears course down my cheeks as I struggle to breathe, and I bury my face in my hands. “Oh my God. Luc.”

  23

  On a Wing and a Prayer

  FRANNIE

  They finally let me in to see Luc this morning, but I can’t bring myself to even look at him. Because, after everything, I know what needs to happen, and I’ve spent the last two days agonizing over it. I stare blindly out the window at the mist falling outside, making everything look filmy and ghostlike. I know I should say something, but I don’t trust my voice. I pull a deep breath and try to concentrate on what I have to do.

  I lean my forehead into the glass. “The doctor didn’t say he found anything … weird in there when he was digging around?”

  “No.”

  “So, I guess that means you’re human now?”

  “Guess so.”

  I can’t breathe. I need to get out of here. I move toward the door without turning around. “I should probably go.”

  “Frannie, talk to me.” His voice, the desperation in it, stops me in my tracks.

  I raise my hand to my face, trying to erase the evidence of my tears. I turn slowly to face him, and his expression almost kills me. How can I do this? I’m not strong enough. I drop my eyes to the floor.

  He holds out his hand to me, and I can’t help myself. I walk to the bed and sit on the edge of it. At his touch, my heart races, but I still don’t look at him.

  “Tell me what you’re thinking,” he says, and I feel tears well up in my eyes again.

  “I’m thinking we shouldn’t be together. I’m bad for you.”

  He heaves a huge sigh. When he speaks, he doesn’t even try to hide the laughter in his voice. “You? You’re bad for me?”

  I can’t believe he’s making fun of me—making light of this whole thing. Anger flares deep inside me, and I hear it in my voice. I pull my eyes from the blankets and glare at him. “I almost got you killed. You were immortal and I took that from you. You’d have lived forever if it wasn’t for me.”

  “Living forever isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. The piece of forever I’ve lived is plenty.”

  “You’re just saying that.” I turn my head away, trying to clear it and get myself together.

  He reaches up for my cheek and turns me to face him. “Frannie, look at me.” My eyes reluctantly slide to his. “For this feeling,” he taps his free hand on his chest, “I’d have given up anything. I’d say my immortality was a small price to pay, but I don’t feel like I’ve paid anything. I feel like I’ve been paid with the most valuable thing anyone could ever want.” A tear slips over my lashes, and he wipes it away. “You love me. What else could I ever ask for?”

  I feel hot tears on my cheek as I lean down to kiss him.

  “Don’t mind me or anything.” And out of the blue—literally—Gabe is sitting in the chair under the window, looking all angelic.

  Luc glares over my shoulder at him. “You really need to stop doing that. Didn’t your mother ever tell you it’s rude not to knock?”

  But then it hits me. I know what needs to happen. I hop up, feeling a thousand times lighter, and walk over to Gabe. I grab his hand and pull him out of the chair. “We need to talk.”

  I drag him out the door as Luc watches with concerned amusement on his face, and we find a bench in the hall. I sit with my elbows on my knees, resting my forehead in my hands.

  The din of the hospital is white noise—generic—and I focus on that to slow the whir of my spinning head. I wind my fingers into my hair and stare at the floor between my feet. “You want to tag me for Heaven.”

  “Yes,” Gabe says.

  “And they’ll stop coming for me if you do.”

  “Eventually.”

  “But I have to forgive myself.”

  “Yes.”

  I pull my head from my hands, surprised at how light it feels. “I’ll cut you a deal,” I say, the anchor lifting from my heart.

  Gabe leans back on the bench and smiles up at me as I walk back into Luc’s room. I slide onto the edge of his bed, and his eyes narrow as he laces his fingers in mine. “What was that all about?” He can’t hide the jealousy in his voice.

  “Nothing,” I say.

  He drops my hand and his eyes search mine.

  I run a finger over his cheek, outlining the bandage on his face, and he shudders. He pulls a sigh and reaches for my face. “You know, when I told you to use your Sway with Beherit, I meant to save yourself, not me.”

  I press my cheek into his hand. “I couldn’t think. I just … knew what I wanted.”

  He pulls me into a kiss, but just as our lips touch, there’s a knock at the door. He holds me around the neck when I try to back away, and we finish our kiss. Then he smiles and yells, “Come in!”

  The door swings open. Gabe smiles, all proud of himself for knocking. “Heads up!” he says, and, with a flick of his wrist, a shiny silver object on a chain sails across the room.

  Luc grabs it out of the air before it slams into his face. “Thanks,” he says to Gabe.

  Gabe props himself on the doorframe. “I’m not your errand boy. Next time you need something, get it yourself.”

  I look at the object in Luc’s hand. It’s a crucifix; larger than the last one and with a pointed end.

  “I had this for you … that night.” He smiles wanly. “But I got a little sidetracked before I could give it to you.” He folds the crucifix into my hand.

  Gabe meanders into the room. “You’re going home tomorrow.”

  I pull away from Luc and look at Gabe. “How do you know?”

  He shoots me a sardonic glance and slouches back into the chair under the window.

  “Gabriel …” Luc’s face shifts through frustration into anger and finally seems to settle on confused. “How … ?” he asks.

  “The decision was already made. It was never up to Michael.” His glance shoots to me and his eyes sparkle. “She wanted it, and you earned it.” Then he looks back at Luc, his expression serious. “Plus, we need your help.”

  Luc nods at him. “Thanks.”

  He quirks half a smile. “It wasn’t my decision either. You’ve impressed Him.” His eyes shift to the ceiling.

  I look from Luc to Gabe and back, confused. “What are you guys talking about?”

  Luc smiles at me. “You’ve got archangels quaking in their boots.”

  That was a very unhelpful reply.

  Gabe slides out of his chair and moves to the side of the bed, placing his hand on my shoulder. “Let’s just say there was some dissension in the ranks, but we’ve got it sorted now.” He looks back at Luc. “How are you feeling?”

  Luc flashes his winning smile and squeezes my hand. “Invincible.”

  “Well, just remember that you’re not anymore, so if you want to be around to look after Frannie, reckless abandon isn’t your best strategy.”

  Luc rolls his eyes.

  Gabe grins, blinding me. “Yeah, that’s what I thought you’d say, so I recruited you some help. He’s fresh out of training—just yesterday, as a matter of fact—but there’s no one better for the job.”

  “Hey Frannie.”
The voice is musical, like Gabe’s but different. It’s lighter somehow. I turn and, on the other side of the room, there’s a boy, maybe seventeen, medium height, with sandy-blond curls, sky-blue eyes, and the face of … well … an angel. He’s leaning against the wall, hands in his jeans pockets, smiling at me.

  All the air is knocked out of me and my legs suddenly go weak. “Matt?” I can barely get the word out. He looks just like the image from my head—the way I pictured he’d look if he was still alive.

  He smiles and the glare burns my retinas. “In the flesh—sort of.”

  I turn to Gabe. “I don’t …” but I can’t form the rest of the thought.

  Matt laughs—a sound like wind chimes. “I’m your guardian angel.” He laughs again. “Would you ever have thunk it when I was sticking gum in your hair and stealing your bike?”

  My shaky legs start moving, carrying me across the room. I feel the tears start to slip down my cheeks, but there’s not a thing I can do about it. I can’t even begin to reconcile the emotions whirring through me. But as I reach him, it’s guilt that finds a voice. I can’t look him in the eye. “Oh my God … Matt, I’m sorry.”

  He wraps an arm around me and pulls me to his shoulder. “There’s nothing to be sorry for, Frannie. You need to let it go.”

  “I can’t.” I look up at Gabe, whose eyes bore a hole through me. I can almost feel him rummaging around in my head, looking for the answers.

  “You have to, or there’s no point in my being here.” He shoots a glance at Luc.

  All my insides are Jell-O and my head feels full of cotton. I can’t think. But then a thought peeks through the fog. “Mom and Dad. Oh my God! They’re going to die when they see you!” My breath catches when I realize what I just said. “I mean …”

  Matt pulls me to his shoulder again. “No, Frannie. They can’t know. Nobody can.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s just how it is. It’s strictly forbidden for us to show ourselves to anyone who knew us. Especially family.”

  I pull my face out of his shoulder. “I knew you.”

  He glances at Gabe. “An exception was made due to extenuating circumstances,” he says in this low, official-sounding voice.

  I look up and Gabe is shaking his head.

  I smile, but then I’m crying again. “So I killed you, but I’m the only one who gets you back? How is that fair?”

  “I have no clue what to say to get you to see it wasn’t your fault.”

  “But it was my fault.” I sob into his T-shirt, getting snot all over him. “I was there, remember? The one yanking on your leg and pulling you out of the tree?”

  “You know I can’t lie now, right? It wasn’t your fault. You have to believe that.”

  I start to feel really dizzy as my throat closes. I let go of him and drop my hands to my knees, trying to suck air into my collapsing lungs.

  “Get a nurse!” Luc says, and I hear him struggling with the IV stand.

  But then I smell summer snow and feel Gabe’s arms around me. “Frannie, breathe,” he says, his breath cool in my ear.

  I shudder and pull tighter into him.

  “Slow and easy,” he whispers.

  And I find he’s right. If I breathe slowly, I can get some air in. The stars dancing in front of my eyes start to fade.

  I straighten up and Gabe lets me go. I stare at Matt, wiping my nose on my sleeve. I can’t believe this. I’ve wanted him back so much, and here he is. I dive into his chest again and wrap my arms around him, determined to never let him go. “Oh my God.”

  He smiles. “It’s going to be okay, Frannie. Really.”

  His smile is contagious. I sniffle and smile back through my tears. “Why do you look seventeen—or how I thought you’d look at seventeen? How come you don’t still look seven?”

  His smile widens. “Camouflage. There’ll be times I need to be visible, and a seven-year-old following you around would look pretty stupid, don’t you think?”

  “I guess.”

  Luc clears his throat loudly. A goofy grin stretches my face as I pull Matt over to his bed. “So, Matt, this is Luc. Luc, Matt.”

  Luc’s brow creases, then his eyes spring wide. “It was you … at the graduation party, with Belias.”

  He looks at Luc without smiling. “That was my field test.”

  “I assume you passed?”

  Matt glares at him. “Of course.” He turns to me. “So, I won’t be around all the time,” his eyes narrow and shift to Luc briefly, “because there’s stuff you guys do that I really don’t want to see. But if you need me, I’ll be there.”

  Luc holds out a hand to Matt. “We’re happy for the backup.”

  He just looks at Luc’s hand, his expression bordering on repulsion.

  All of a sudden, the joy I felt is gone. I look between them, trying to understand what just happened, as Luc drops his hand.

  “Don’t try to be a hero, Lucifer,” Gabe says to break the awkward silence. He fixes Luc in a hard gaze. “If you need help, call for it.”

  Luc glowers at him. “Yes, mother.”

  He smiles. “Speaking of mothers, you have some visitors.”

  And just then, there’s a knock at the door. Matt vanishes as it swings open, and it’s a good thing, because Mom and Dad are standing there, McDonald’s bag in hand.

  “A godsend,” Luc mutters, then grimaces. “Hospital food is an acquired taste.”

  I managed to weasel out of the church retreat that my family is at ’cause I’m still recovering from the “dog attack.”

  Instead, I browse through my closet, deciding what I’m gonna need in LA, and glance at Luc, who is standing near my dresser. He’s been out of the hospital for a week and most of the bandages are off. A bloodred scar twists down his face from just below the outside corner of his right eye to the middle of his cheek. Dark and dangerous is now scarred and sexy. Mmm … yummy.

  “Are you taking this?” he asks with a raised eyebrow, the strap of my black lace bra looped over his finger.

  “Probably. I need something to get those UCLA guys all hot and bothered.”

  His face darkens as he tucks it back into my drawer.

  “Course, if you come with me, I won’t have time for any of those lightweights.” I try to seem casual as I saunter over and wrap myself around him, but I’m all kinds of tense.

  His expression clears as he ties my hair back in a knot. “Where else would I be?”

  I blow out a nervous sigh. “So, you’ll come to LA?”

  “I’d like to see you try and stop me,” he says with his wicked grin.

  I look around at my papered walls, and it hits me for the first time how much I’m gonna miss home. But what I also realize in this instant is that anyplace with Luc is home. “What are you gonna do when we get there?”

  “Maybe take a class or two … get a job.” He shrugs. “Whatever.”

  “With seven thousand years of job experience, you should be able to find something.”

  He cracks a smile. “I don’t think there are too many openings in damning souls to Hell.”

  I smile back. “It’s LA. You might be surprised.”

  He laughs but then gets all serious and pulls me tighter. “I’m really not sure this is a great idea. It’s not over, you know. If King Lucifer let him live, Beherit will send someone else—or come back himself now that it’s personal.” He rubs his chin with his thumb. “You actually may have killed him, Frannie. From his reaction it looked like gold was his weakness. That dagger to his brimstone heart … hard to say.”

  I’m not sure how I feel about that. I pull away and look up at Luc, trying to shake off the sudden wave of guilt. “So if that’s true, according to you, I’m tagged for Hell now for sure.”

  His eyes flash, and he goes instantly pale. “What are you talking about?”

  “If I killed him, I’m just like Tom. You said no extenuating circumstances. Straight to Hell for me. Do not pass Go, do not collect two hundred dolla
rs.”

  Uncertainty clouds his eyes. “It was self-defense. And killing a demon is different,” he says, like he’s trying it out to see if it sounds right.

  “Now you’re making exceptions? You’re such a hypocrite.”

  His face hardens into a determined scowl. As if he can make it so through sheer force of will, he says, “You’re not tagged for Hell.”

  When I don’t say anything, he turns toward the window, his face dark and brooding. He stares out at nothing and says, “This is my fault. I never should have come here.”

  “They would have sent someone else—someone like Belias.”

  He shakes his head slowly and turns back to look me in the eye. “He never would have found you.”

  But Luc did. We’ve been connected from the beginning. I press into him and he folds me into his arms.

  “I just want to keep you safe,” he whispers into my hair. “Gabriel and Matt can do that better than I can.”

  “I feel safe right here,” I say, still burrowed into him.

  “We can’t do this on our own, Frannie. We’re going to need Gabriel’s and Matt’s help. Especially if you insist on going to LA.”

  I pull back and look at him. “Okay, so if going to LA isn’t a good idea, what do you suggest we do?”

  “We should just take off. Find somewhere to hide.” That wicked sparkle is back in his eyes, and a hint of a smile curls his lips. “Maybe buy some deserted tropical island somewhere … just us, clothing optional.”

  I laugh, kinda liking the sound of that. “I could live with that, but you’re the one who said they can find us anywhere.”

  He looks hopeful. “That was before. Did you notice? Beherit didn’t know I was at Gabriel’s that night. I shouldn’t have been able to surprise him—and I had the hounds with me, so my Shield hid them too. With some help from Matt, this might just work.” He thinks for a second, then smiles. “And I suppose LA’s as good a place to get lost as any.”

  I hope he’s right, but right now all I want to do is lose myself in him. I press tight into his body and bury my face in his chest. “I love you.”

  “I know. That’s the only thing that saved me. You’re my redemption.” He leans down and kisses me.