Flame Unleashed (Hell to Pay)

by David, Jillian

  Chapter 10

  After a ride across town in silence, the hustle of University Hospital came as a welcome distraction to Ruth. She and Odie checked in at the front desk of the ER, and a staff member escorted them to Barnaby’s room. Ruth had been in every kind of hospital since the late 1800s, but this new facility impressed her. Every piece of equipment in this ER sparkled, and the monitors calmly beeped Barnaby’s pulse and oxygen levels. A petite nurse made notes on a handheld computer.

  Time had finally outpaced Ruth’s skills. Because of the increased difficulty of hiding her identity, she hadn’t used her nursing degree for twenty years. Of course, she could learn to operate the computerized machines, and surely the gentle art of nursing had not changed, but so much else had evolved. But if she were human? She’d be right here, fighting for the lives of her patients and giving them comfort as they suffered.

  God, how she wanted to be human.

  Anything but a killer.

  Ruth turned back to her beloved mentor. His respirations were calm. On the monitor, his blood oxygen levels read normal, although he needed six liters of oxygen to sustain him at those levels. Not good.

  “How is he doing?” she asked the nurse.

  “Better, though we’re not sure what happened. I’ll let the doctor talk with you.”

  The woman darted out of the room and a few minutes later, a middle-aged physician with a gaggle of interns and medical students filed in. Ruth could tell which kids were at which level of training based on the degree of fear, uncertainty, and fatigue, not to mention the length of their bright white coats. Some things never changed.

  “Are you his family?” The attending physician extended a firm handshake.

  “Yes, I’m his caregiver. And this is his friend. We’re the closest people to family he has.”

  The doctor crossed his arms. “Mr. Emerson has sustained damage to his heart, but I’m not certain what caused it. It’s almost like he has been burned from the inside out, enough to injure a portion of his heart.”

  Damn Jerahmeel and his fingers of fire.

  Odie’s warm hand on her back centered her like an anchor in a rising storm.

  “His heart is filling up with fluid because of the damage. But otherwise, we can see nothing else wrong with him. And no evidence of external injury. No medications that would cause this pattern. Do you know if he was doing anything ... odd before he got sick?”

  “No,” she lied. “Everything was completely normal. He just collapsed.”

  It was a grossly truncated version of the incident, leaving out the part where the manifestation of Satan tried to destroy Barnaby to claim Ruth all for himself. But the doctor didn’t need that kind of detail to deliver medical care.

  The white-coated crowd studiously tapped notes on electronic tablets.

  Ruth forced a polite smile. “Will he recover?”

  The lines around the doctor’s mouth tightened, and he studied the monitor. She had seen physicians with that expression in the past, knew what it meant. A deep, sinking feeling threatened to consume her.

  “It’s too early to say; he’s critically ill. I’d like to admit him to the cardiac ICU. They will do further testing and monitor him carefully. Ah, may I ask another question?”

  She nodded, but the motion took effort.

  “We like to make sure we have all the information relevant to each patient’s stay. Does Mr. Emerson have a living will or a medical power of attorney?”

  Ruth’s heart flopped, but she clutched her iron will around her like a suit of armor. She understood why the doctor asked this question, and no, it was not for completeness. Not in this situation. They wanted those bases covered because they anticipated acting on the living will information. Even though she knew the drill, it didn’t lessen the shock.

  “I don’t think he has a living will, but to the best of my knowledge, I don’t believe he’d want to live on life support, if it came down to that. He’s never put his thoughts in writing. That’s my impression.”

  When she gripped the back of the vinyl chair, Odie’s hand slid over hers and squeezed. Blast it, she would not crave reassurance from him. She was stronger than that.

  “Very good. They’ll move him to the ICU in an hour or so. Would you like anything? Water or juice perhaps?”

  “No, thank you, that’s very kind.”

  In a rustle of starched polyester, the group shuffled out of Barnaby’s room. She pulled up a chair next to her friend. Odie rested his hand on her shoulder, and she relaxed for a brief moment.

  What a change. A few hours ago, she was yelling at him for trying to coopt her into his scheme. Now he’d become considerate and supportive. And maybe his change in character was another ploy to get her on board with the scheme. She could make herself crazy second-guessing his motives.

  At some point, she needed to take that leap and trust a man again. Maybe Odie was as good an opportunity as any. Not all men were like her husband.

  Barnaby cracked open an eye and turned his head toward Ruth. She gently slid her palm beneath her boss’s frail hand.

  “Are they gone?” His thin voice rattled.

  “Were you playing possum?”

  “Did you know that one of those people who wasn’t yet a doctor wanted to check up my bum! It’s clear that’s not where the problem is.” He pursed his lips and slowly exhaled.

  She loved the rare times when he slid into Elizabethan slang. “How are you feeling?”

  He chuckled until paroxysmal wheezing took over. After a few moments of coughing, he sagged into the mattress. “Like hell.”

  “What happened in the hotel?” Odie asked.

  Barnaby cleared his throat and winced. “Your Lord Jerahmeel showed up, spewing something about getting rid of me so he could have you all to himself, my dear. That odious creature has gotten madder over the years, I daresay.” He inhaled through his nose, puffing the air out of his mouth. “He’s right. He technically didn’t touch me. He pointed a finger and zap, incredible fire in my chest.” He panted until he could speak again. “It was like a hot clamp squeezing my body shut. I never knew he could do that.”

  “For how long?”

  “Not long, as you came in right after he began. I fear I’d be dead if he’d continued.”

  “Are you still in danger?”

  “If I’m alive and you’re paying attention to me and not him, then yes, I’m in danger.”

  “He’s a sick bastard,” muttered Odie.

  “He’s getting worse,” she agreed.

  “You’re both right.” The muscles of Barnaby’s chest and neck strained to drive air in and out. “I have a bad feeling about where things are going with Jerahmeel.” He wheezed. “And my instincts have been correct for almost 500 years.”

  Barnaby paused to catch his breath again. His jugular veins were distended more than halfway up his neck, and Ruth fought to mask the dread that threatened to swamp her. Heart failure. She glanced at the monitor’s display of an increasing heart rate and decreasing oxygen levels, understanding the results but wishing to be ignorant of the medical facts.

  As she opened her mouth to comment, he lifted a hand and dropped it back to the bed as though he no longer could raise it.

  Odie slipped her hand into his with a gentle squeeze.

  Barnaby puffed a few more times. “I originally didn’t like the idea you presented yesterday, Odie. But I’m starting to see its merit.”

  “Thank you, my friend.”

  “You cannot be serious.” She didn’t buy Odie’s wide-eyed, innocent expression one bit. He might be sexy as all get out, but this particular harebrained idea contained no hope for success.

  He leaned toward Barnaby. “This is our best opportunity to finish Jerahmeel once and for all. It might protect humans as well as release our kind from their hellish contracts.”

  “And if it fails?” She clenched her teeth so hard her jaw ached.

  Odie’s grasp on her hand tightened, both reassuring and dan
gerous. “How could our existence be worse?”

  “It could be plenty worse.”

  “My dear, consider it,” Barnaby whispered.

  “No. I’m sorry. I won’t do it.” She pulled her hand free of Odie’s grasp and scrubbed at her face. “Barnaby, you’re still alive. Jerahmeel might torture you even now. If I make him mad, he’ll hunt for those who are most vulnerable. What about Peter and Dante and their families? They’re all mortal.” Horror washed over her as tears burned. “If Jerahmeel would attack Barnaby, what’s to say he won’t go after other humans? I won’t put our friends at risk.”

  “Peace, my dear. No one will force you to do anything.” Barnaby closed his eyes with a sigh.

  Odie knelt next to the hospital bed. A muscle jumped beneath his beard. “So that reminds me. Would you like us to notify anyone that you’re here? Maybe Peter and Dante?”

  “That would be kind of you. But you don’t need to trouble them. They’ve both been through so much. I do love them like my own sons.”

  “I believe they’d want to know what’s happened,” Odie said.

  Something sharp twisted in Ruth’s chest. She bit the inside of her cheek. Keep control. Do not fall to pieces. She wrapped her hands around the gurney side rails.

  Barnaby’s blue eyes snapped open again.

  “If anyone can stop him, it’s you and Odie, my dear. Just know that I believe in your strength. In your powers.”

  She gasped. Her powers? How did he know? She’d never told anyone. Not even Barnaby. And she’d never used her power around him.

  And now Odie raised his eyebrows. Damn, he hadn’t missed Barnaby’s oblique comment.

  “Why don’t you rest?” If she didn’t relax her grip, she’d bend the metal bed railing. With effort, she let her hands fall to her sides.

  Barnaby smiled. “My dear, I know much more than you realize. And while I’m thinking of it, have Odie do a little of his genealogy research for you.”

  “I have no family left.”

  “You’d be surprised.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Not for me to say. As for your secrets ... not mine to share ...”

  He drifted back to sleep as his pale, wrinkled lips relaxed. Whether he pretended to sleep or not, Barnaby needed his rest and possibly a miracle.

  Odie hovered at her side. His ice-green gaze searched her and she shivered, but he wouldn’t get any information out of her tonight. She resisted waking Barnaby to ask how he knew about her power. Later. It would have to wait until later.

  Ruth felt all of her 150 years of age. “I’ll go with him to the ICU. Do you have Peter and Dante’s numbers?”

  Odie nodded. “They haven’t been human long enough for me to delete from my emergency call list. But I need to get on my computer at home and pull up the encrypted file. I don’t like you being here alone.”

  “I’ll stay with Barnaby. Besides, I can’t imagine Jerahmeel would try anything where there are so many witnesses around.”

  “Possibly. But he’s getting more erratic.”

  “I’ll be careful.”

  “Please do. I’ll return as soon as I’m able.”

  His caress down her arm to her hand triggered a gut-deep shudder. Then he lifted her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to her tingling fingers.

  “Stay safe.”

  “You too,” she said.

  When she turned back to Barnaby, she could swear the corners of her old friend’s mouth had curled upward.

  Chapter 11

  The clock read 3:00 a.m. Peter and Dante would arrive by this afternoon.

  Unfortunately, they were bringing their women, increasing the security risk. So Odie put two of his unhuman colleagues on alert. All of the Indebted knew Barnaby, either personally or by reputation. No one wanted him to be a victim of Jerahmeel. Help was easy to find.

  But Odie had to avoid flooding New Orleans with the Indebted. Not only would the local kill rates go up, but each kill with a blade would alert Jerahmeel of the increased concentration in this area and raise his suspicion.

  They all had to be careful, so very careful.

  When Odie had gone home for a few hours to access the database and make arrangements for his friends’ safety, he had also started the new genealogy program on his computer. In the past, he’d used the program to keep track of his progeny, but he changed the input to generate a new family tree.

  There were only three Ruths who matriculated from the few nursing schools right after the Civil War. He pulled up archived graduation photos, and lo and behold, there she was with her high cheekbones and serious expression, her hair pulled up into a high bun topped with a neat white cap. Even in the grainy photo, she appeared ageless and elegant. And foolish in the 1870s, since she used her married name for this first diploma. He hadn’t known her full name until now, but the image staring back at him in the faded photo was unmistakably Ruth.

  After he traced that information back to her family in Maryland, the program began to populate the family tree. A few comments in archived family diaries and letters piqued his interest. Mon dieu, was this the mystery that Barnaby hinted at, a pattern perhaps? Something to do with his comment about her powers?

  Damn it, Odie needed more time.

  But he had to get back to the hospital. This research would have to wait.

  Even if he floored it, it would still take over an hour to drive the sixty miles from Thibodaux to the hospital. Too far to run, even for an Indebted. Besides, running risked detection, so he saved that Indebted skill for special occasions.

  For now, he craved Ruth’s calm presence, needed to see her lovely face.

  Why? Revenge on Jerahmeel, of course. The possibility hung like a fruit, tantalizingly out of reach.

  To accomplish his revenge, Odie had to convince Ruth to join the mission. She was the lynchpin in the scheme; she could gain access to the lair of He Who Should Be Destroyed where no one else could.

  What would it cost to convince her?

  What would it cost if she said yes? How could he consider risking her life?

  At noon, Odie arrived at the ICU waiting area. Families sat in small groups, holding hands, heads bowed, as subdued murmurs filtered through the tense atmosphere.

  In the corner of the room was Ruth, her elegant hand pressed to her forehead, features carved in stone, the very picture of isolation. The twinge in his chest wasn’t due to sympathy. It was because he knew precisely the feelings behind her expression. He had survived loneliness so profound it had changed the man he was.

  As he approached, she looked up and a wan smile animated her sculpted face.

  “How’s he doing?”

  “Worse. He’s in and out of consciousness now. They’re considering putting him on a ventilator.”

  “Oh no.”

  “I asked them to hold off intubating him. I don’t believe he’d want to live that way.” She pierced him with a bleak, hazel stare. “What do you think?”

  “I’ve known that stubborn man for hundreds of years, and I agree. You did the right thing.”

  He sat next to her on the vinyl loveseat, ignoring the loud creak. She didn’t move.

  “Want to talk?” he asked.

  She stared straight ahead, neck muscles working as she swallowed. “No. Thank you.”

  “Well, then I’ll stay here with you until Dante and Peter get here.”

  “They’re coming?”

  “Left this morning. Chartered a private jet. Should be here soon.”

  “Alone?”

  “No, Peter’s wife and Dante’s fiancée are with them.”

  “But Allie just had the baby.”

  “They don’t care. They’re coming. Remember, you’re not the only one who loves Barnaby.”

  Her creamy cheeks colored. “I know. Of course it’s their right to see Barnaby. But they’re all in danger here.”

  Although the Indebted never required sleep, they sometimes enjoyed it. So it surprised him to see the
deep circles beneath her gold-flecked eyes. Whether it was weariness or suffering, he could only guess.

  He took her elegant hand in his and enjoyed the briefest pleasure when she didn’t pull away. “I tried to make the women stay home. No one wanted to hear it.”

  She leaned forward, elbows on her knees, chin on her fists. “What if Jerahmeel shows up?”

  “I have a plan B.”

  “Oh?”

  “There are some of the Indebted from nearby states who will come here to keep watch—over everyone, if necessary.”

  “Wow.”

  “Barnaby has garnered a tremendous amount of respect over the centuries.”

  “I had no idea.”

  “He loved you, chère, that’s for sure.”

  “He’s not dead.” Her intense scrutiny indicted him.

  Ducking his head, he said, “Of course. I’m only saying that I can tell how he responds to your care. You’re like the daughter he never had.”

  She sighed and pushed back the heavy fall of dark auburn hair. Odie caught himself before he reached out to do the same.

  Ruth sighed again. “I knew logically that he’d be gone at some point in time. Didn’t think it would be this soon, in this manner.”

  “As you said, he’s not gone.”

  “I know enough about medicine to recognize a critical situation when I see it.”

  They sat for several hours, talking about nothing at times, sitting in silence at others. Occasionally, Ruth would go to Barnaby’s room for a few minutes. Each time she returned, the circles beneath her eyes deepened. All of her pain manifested on her lovely face. There was nothing Odie could do but be present for her.

  Chapter 12

  “Ruth?”

  A familiar baritone voice at the door of the waiting area drew her attention.

  Never did she find herself so pleased to see such a meathead. Dante Blackstone entered the room, filling it with his presence. Even now, in his human state, he was still huge. He tempered his booming voice, but it nevertheless overwhelmed the space, causing others to look up.

  “Hi, Dante.” After giving him a quick hug, she peered around the room. Waiting family members glanced up at them. “Maybe we should go someplace else and talk?” This mountain of a blond man attracted attention wherever he went.