Bound by Time: A Bound Novel

by A. D. Trosper

  Isobel nearly jumped out of her skin when Lucian’s hand closed around her wrist and hauled her to her feet. His wings were out and his light shining. He pulled her back until she stood beside him near the wall. Lucian forced her chin up and looked at her neck. He swore softly, his tawny eyes angry and tense.

  Damien flipped the bracelet off his wrist and begin holding up various religious symbols. The Star of David, a pentagram, the nine-pointed star of Bahai, the Wheel of Dharma, the Aum of Hinduism, the star and crescent of Islam. There were several symbols left but when the thing shrieked at the sight of the cross Damien pressed it against the shadow. Latin rolled off his tongue so fast Isobel couldn’t catch the words. The figure thrashed on the floor, but Damien’s muscles bulged and he held it pinned.

  With a final command Damien leapt away. The shadow thing screamed. The horrible sound cut through Isobel, and she covered her ears. It shriveled and shrank, disappearing as its shriek faded.

  Lucian let go of Isobel and glanced at Amelia. “You all right?”

  “Yes,” Amelia whispered.

  Lucian nodded and folded his wings.

  Damien stood for a long moment, still and silent. He could count the times he’d been filled with so much anger and fear and each time had ended with Isobel’s death. But never had he been angry with her. He lifted his eyes and stared at her. “Did he hurt you?” his voice was quiet with restrained fury.

  Isobel stared at the spot on the carpet where the shadow thing had disappeared.

  “Isobel!” Anger made his voice rough. She started and raised her eyes to his. “Did he hurt you?”

  Isobel shook her head. “Not really.”

  It wasn’t the truth. Even from across the darkened room he could see the red and bruised prints on her neck from the demon’s hand. “What the hell were you thinking? You will never, ever do something like that again!” He hadn’t meant to shout at her, but he only had a tenuous hold on his emotions. Damien slid the bracelet back onto his wrist, the gold stretching easily over his hand then becoming snug again as he started toward her. When he reached Isobel he put his arms around her. He concentrated on calming the terror that had torn through him at the sight of her trying to physically overpower a demon. “You will wake me the next time you feel something wrong in this house.”

  She raised her face. “Was that a—”

  “A lower level demon. Probably here at the bidding of Xapar. Looks like he’s trying other ways to get what he wants,” Damien’s voice was low and tense.

  Isobel shivered. “What else does he want besides out of the window?”

  “You—alone—where he can get to you. Looks like he’s enlisting help to get rid of Amelia and Rose.” Damien’s voice was grim. He gripped her chin and turned her head to the side his eyes on her neck. “Damn him. If I could bring him back just so I could banish him again, I would. Don’t ever do that again.”

  “I…” Isobel swallowed. “I should have done something more. I’m sorry.”

  Damien shook his head. “Yes. You should have woke me before investigating.”

  “No. I meant I should have banished it or something. Isn’t that what I’m here for?”

  “No, it isn’t.” He let go of her and crossed his arms over his bare chest. “Lower and mid-level demons are what dark angels are for. That and protecting channels. You are here to take out upper level demons. A channel should never take chances with lesser demons unless there is no other choice. And,” he pointed a finger at her, “you never try to fight any of them physically. You don’t have that kind of strength, only dark angels have that. You take out demons with your power.”

  Isobel had never seen Damien angry with her before. The blue of his eyes had deepened and his dark brows were drawn down together. He looked like an avenging angel with his wings still out. She looked away. Lucian leaned casually against the wall though she saw in his eyes that he agreed with Damien.

  “It wasn’t like I knew that.” Anger and frustration welled up in her. Isobel propped her hands on her hips and glared at Damien. “I’ve never seen a real demon before, at least not in this life. I couldn’t just let it attack Amelia. I’ll admit it wasn’t the smartest thing to do, but I had to stop it. What did you expect me to do?”

  “I expect you to alert me,” he growled.

  “Don’t you growl at me like that.” Her face flushed with anger. “I may not have made the best decision tonight, but that doesn’t give you a right to shout at me.”

  Damien let his light go and folded his wings, his fury leaching away in the face of her anger. “I know, meae deliciae.”

  He tried to embrace her but she pushed him away and stalked toward the kitchen. “Why don’t you stick your wings where the sun doesn’t shine?”

  “Isobel.” He followed her.

  “Leave me alone, Damien.” Her fear of the demon mixed with the anger and adrenaline pumping through her system. She didn’t want him to be nice to her right then. She wanted to vent her frustrations about the limitations of her power. And just where did he think he got the right to yell at her like that?

  Damien caught her in the doorway, his grip on her arm gentle. “You scared me tonight. That demon could have killed you. Even so, I shouldn’t have shouted. I’m sorry.”

  Isobel resisted his embrace when his arms went around her, though she’d never been able to hang onto her temper long.

  “Please, meae deliciae,” he whispered into her hair. “Forgive my lapse in judgment.”

  She laid her head against his chest feeling the last of her anger burn out though a prickle of irritation remained. She returned his embrace briefly before stepping away. “If I could stay mad longer I would. Since I can’t, I suppose you are forgiven.”

  Isaac and Rose rushed past them to the couch. Isaac looked grim and Rose frightened. “Amelia, baby, are you okay?”

  Amelia nodded, though the incident had clearly shaken her. Isaac pulled Amelia into a hug while Rose’s eyes swept over her granddaughter to make sure she wasn’t hurt.

  Damien raked a hand through his hair. “We will need to be extra vigilant if Xapar is going to start calling in lesser demons.”

  Lucian nodded. “I will start camping out on the floor in here when need be.”

  Isaac frowned. “I wish we were having more luck with locating the vial.”

  “I do too.” Damien walked out of the family room and into the kitchen. The clock on the microwave read 3:14 a.m. He took a quick drink of water and turned to Isobel. “You still need sleep. So does Rose.”

  “Rose won’t go back to bed until Amelia is asleep and she is sure our granddaughter is safe.” Isaac chuckled as he followed them into the kitchen. “She’s a stubborn woman.”

  Isobel understood how Rose felt. She was so keyed up, exhausted, and irritated at the same time her body didn’t know what to do. “I’m not sure I can sleep again after that.”

  “You are going to try,” Damien said, catching hold of her hand as he started toward the stairs.

  She yanked her hand from his and crossed her arms, a stubborn expression on her face. “Oh I am, am I?”

  “Isobel, you look exhausted. I know you are still upset with me, but please, will you try to get some more sleep?”

  Isobel stifled a yawn. Maybe she could sleep. It was irrational to try and force herself to stay awake just because she was annoyed. Isobel walked past him to the stairs. “Perhaps I will try to get some more sleep.”

  Damien followed her without saying a word. He had a feeling anything he said at that moment would be used against him. Better to just let her cool the rest of the way down on her own. He lay down in the bed with her though he didn’t need to sleep anymore. She snuggled her back up against him. Cautiously, Damien encircled his arm around her waist. When she didn’t push away, he relaxed. Within moments she slipped quietly back into slumber.

  Her dreams were anything but restful. Occasionally, Xapar would whisper through them and images of the demon in the family room tow
ered over her. Eusebia appeared several times, each time urging her to find the saint. Isobel couldn’t tell if the woman was impatient or desperate. Sorsha hissed and growled like a feral cat. Her father lay in a puddle of blood, his empty eye sockets dripping.

  She woke with a start, sitting up as terror filled her. Cold sweat beaded on her skin as her chest tightened. Her inability to pull anything more than a small sip of air in panicked her further. Her muscles shook and her head swam.

  Damien’s hands were warm on her arms, and his blue eyes swam across her vision. “Isobel?”

  Light flooded the room. She shook her head. “Not…Xapar…” she gasped out.

  The light dimmed but remained. “What is it then? I don’t sense anything else in the house right now.”

  “Panic…attack…” The minutes crawled by while she rode the wave of terror.

  Damien remained silent, his hands rubbing her back gently. Finally, the band around her chest started to let loose, and she could breathe again. She pulled her knees up to her chest and rested her arms on them.

  Isobel heaved in a huge breath and let it out as the racing of her heart slowed, and she laid her head on her arms, face turned away from Damien. So much for being the great and wonderful channel that Eusebia had seen so many centuries ago.

  Damien’s hand ran down her hair. “Better?”

  She nodded but didn’t look at him. He sighed and it sounded frustrated. “Isobel, what’s wrong? Are you still upset with me?”

  “No.”

  “Then what? Please talk to me.”

  “It’s ridiculous. There is nothing to be afraid of and yet my body completely overreacts. I know there is nothing to be frightened of when it’s happening and still I can’t do anything about it.” A tear of frustration spilled down her face.

  Damien shifted so he could slide a finger under her chin. The gentle pressure made her look up. His eyes were kind. “You shouldn’t be ashamed.”

  Isobel shook her head. “I should be. I’m supposed to be this great hope for getting rid of Xapar and here I sat panicked out of my wits at absolutely nothing. How can I face a demon if I can’t even face nothing?”

  Damien leaned forward and kissed her lips softly. His eyes were intense when he locked his gaze on hers. “You will face the demon with all of the courage I know you have in your heart, meae deliciae. The same courage that took you downstairs alone. The same courage that made you try and fight that demon.” He kissed along her jaw line, and she shivered when she felt his warm breath in her ear. “The same courage that made you try and use simple salt and sage to rid your house of Xapar.”

  His lips trailed down her neck and across her collarbone. He pulled her close as his mouth came down on hers. She tangled her fingers in his inky black hair and pulled him closer, needing to lose herself in his kiss, to forget the demon and the panic attacks and everything else that was happening even if for only a moment.

  Damien’s arms wrapped around her. Isobel lost herself in the taste of him, the scent of his skin, and everything else except him faded away.

  Isobel threw herself into learning everything Rose could teach her. Actually seeing and touching a demon made it more real. The bright red fingerprints and dark bruises she’d seen on her throat the morning after brought it all crashing home. It was all real and the danger was growing with each day.

  Learning from Rose was a strange experience. It was more like being reminded of things she already knew. Things she didn’t quite remember until they were shown to her. In all of her lives throughout the centuries she’d known how to use her magic. In this life each thing Rose reminded her of removed more bricks from the walls in her memory.

  Rose made the trip up the stairs to work on Xapar’s prison again, though it did little good. Isobel could now see the seal and it was frighteningly fragile. Damien, Lucian, and Isaac had no more contacts to call. No one knew where the vial of blood was.

  Isobel resigned herself to this fact though the dark angels hadn’t. There was no vial; it had been lost or destroyed over the years. And that was that. Without it, Xapar couldn’t be pulled from the window. When the seal finally failed altogether he might not be able to roam the world in his own form invading whomever he wished, but he would still have tremendous power and could cause untold harm.

  Isobel spent a great deal of time thinking about Rihanna during the next couple of weeks. Weeks where the banishing of lower and mid-level demons seemed to happen at least once a day. The more she embraced and worked with her power the less the panic attacks came. She was thankful for that.

  One afternoon, after Rose called for a break, Isobel reclined on the chaise lounge on the deck against Damien’s bare chest. The angels rarely bothered with shirts; they needed their wings too often. She wondered what her parents would think if they walked into the house and saw the three shirtless men living there.

  Isobel’s mind wandered to Amelia as her friend’s laughter drifted through the closed French doors. She had Isaac’s laugh. “So angels can have children?”

  Damien tensed, and she raised her head to look at him. The muscles of his jaw were tight as he nodded. Isobel raised an eyebrow. “Is that a bad thing?”

  “Not a bad thing. Not always.” He tightened his arm around her. “Children come rarely to angels. It isn’t our purpose here. With channels to protect, demons to fight, and dark angels that need to be raised when they’re born into this world there is enough for us to do.”

  “But they do happen?” Isobel asked, wondering what bothered him about the idea.

  A small smile touched his lips. “Amelia’s mother is proof of that. Rose and Isaac have been sodales in aeternum since the time of Cleopatra. In all of those centuries and lives, they have born only two children. The first was born in 95 A.D. Somewhere in the world descendants of their souls still likely exist. Our offspring, however, are not very fertile. Amelia’s mother was in her forties when she finally conceived, and Amelia is her only child.”

  “Is her mother a channel?”

  Damien shook his head. “It usually skips that first generation. Not always, and when it does happen it’s usually only the girls.”

  “What about boys?”

  “They grow into normal men. Only the Higher Powers can create a dark angel. On extremely rare occasions a boy becomes a channel like Januarius.”

  Isobel thought of all of the lives Rose and Isaac had spent childless. “Does it bother Rose and Isaac when they have no children?”

  “Considering the risk to a baby being born to a channel and a dark angel, no.”

  Isobel searched through her memories, more of which surfaced each day. Memories where she and Damien grew old together. “Have we ever…” her voice trailed away at the pained look on his face.

  “Just once.” He stared up at the trees.

  “I don’t remember it yet. How could I forget a baby? Being a mother?”

  “You never got the chance to be a mother. Or see the baby.” Damien looked at her, and she saw the pain of loss in his eyes. “It was 1237. You died giving birth, and our son joined you in death within moments of his birth.” His jaw tightened again. “If the midwife had called for me, I could have saved you both. But she didn’t. By the time she did it was too late.”

  Vague memories of pain and darkness swept through Isobel’s mind. Damien’s voice was quiet when he said, “It isn’t something I care to go through again.”

  Isobel laid her head back down hoping that she didn’t have a child in this life. Damien was right, with everything they faced, it wouldn’t be safe. And there was certainly enough to be worried about right now. Like lower level demons working with Xapar.

  It was with great trepidation she waited with Rose two weeks later as a dark shadow slid across the yard and into the house. Over the protest of the dark angels, Rose insisted this lower level was for Isobel to banish. The heavy clouds of an approaching storm blotted out the sun and cast the house into dull, murky light.

  Isobel co
uld sense the movement of the shadowy figure through the house. With her power embraced even the tiny fibers of the carpet were visible. Rose looked at her and said quietly, “Time to take those training wheels off, Isobel. Remember, you don’t fight him with your hands, only your power.”

  “Are you sure saying the words in English will work?” Isobel shifted nervously as she waited for the demon to prowl into the family room.

  Rose patted her hand gently. “The angels use Latin because theirs is a different kind of power. They call upon the Higher Powers to help them, and speak the words to banish the demon through the assistance of the Higher Powers. You are a channel. You don’t need to ask for their help. By bestowing the gift of their power to you they have already granted it. The words can be said in any language to focus the power into what you want it do. It’s the energy behind the words that matters.”

  As the demon came closer, Rose withdrew to the far side of the room where Damien, Isaac, Lucian, and Amelia stood in the deep shadows. Damien waited, his wings half unfurled, every muscle tense.

  Isobel focused on the evil of the sensation as it slid closer. A small knot of nerves tied itself in her stomach. She wasn’t worried about it hurting her. No matter what happened, Damien would protect her. Adrenaline poured through her system making her feel stronger and more courageous than she really was. Isobel reminded herself that she’d done this before many times. Not in this life, but in others. She wouldn’t fail.

  The tall, shadowy figure stepped into the family room. It only took a second for it to realize it was a trap. Before it could flee Isobel raised a circle of golden-white light around it. Unable to escape, it tried to charge her, came against the wall of power, and bounced back. The impact sent ripples along her energy.