Bound by Time: A Bound Novel

by A. D. Trosper

  Isobel didn’t disagree, not even with the name. God or Higher Powers, it was all the same and she felt them here. “You have the vial then?”

  He nodded. “Yes, come this way.” He led them to the side of the cathedral to the end of the pews closest to the stunning windows. “Please, wait here while I retrieve it.”

  Isobel settled into one of the pews with Lucian and Damien, both of them seeming somehow too big for the narrow benches. “How did Father Thomas know who you were?”

  Damien chuckled. “I showed him my wings.”

  “And even then he wouldn’t hand you the vial?”

  “Father Thomas was very adamant that it could only be given to you.”

  Isobel stared at the windows entranced by their splendor. “What is it like to embrace your powers in here?”

  Damien closed his eyes. “Very sweet. I don’t know how else to describe it.”

  She gazed at his face. His expression held the obvious happiness the memory brought. Isobel opened herself to the power that always shined within her and embraced it. It was incredibly sweet, just as Damien said. So pure and lovely tears stung her eyes from its beauty.

  Damien watched her face. In the soft glow of the windows and surrounded by a halo of golden-white light she looked beautiful beyond measure. The glow grew stronger as she soaked up the feelings. He didn’t want to say anything to diminish her pleasure, but he knew he needed to bring her back down when the light began to edge around the green of her eyes.

  He leaned down and whispered in her ear, “Meae deliciae, I know it’s wonderful. It’s also very easy to lose control in here and take in too much. You are dangerously close to that now. You will want to back it down and release it.”

  Isobel heard the sincerity and the twinge of worry in his voice and pulled the energy back, releasing it with a wistful sigh. He was right; it was easy. Too easy. She hadn’t even felt the heat of it rushing through her veins.

  Father Thomas strode back, the sound of his footsteps swallowed by the cavernous nature of the church. Lucian moved down so the Father could sit next to her. He held a small and very old looking box in his hands, a serious expression on his face.

  “This box contains a true treasure of the church. Only a few over the centuries have known this vial existed. The blood of Saint Januarius is very powerful; only use it when you are sure you have the strength to banish the demon.” Father Thomas lifted the lid of the box and pulled out a small vial made of ancient glass. At some point in history, a thin chain of silver had been attached to it.

  Isobel took it in her hands and immediately felt the power the priest spoke of. The power of Januarius’ sacrifice made with perfect conviction and a pure heart. It tingled through her fingers and up her arms. Isobel peered closer at the glass. “The blood is solid. Will it still work?”

  Father Thomas smiled slightly. “It is solid now, yes. It will become liquid again when it is time to face the demon. Keep it on you at all times and whatever you do, do not let it into the hands of a demon. Remember, the glass is quite breakable. You cannot allow it to be destroyed.”

  Isobel nodded, slipped the chain over her head, and tucked the vial under her shirt. “I will keep it safe. Everything I love rides on it.”

  “You have the right heart for this. Be very careful on your journey. Once you leave the church grounds, you will be in danger. There are demons everywhere, though they won’t likely attack in the daylight. Not directly anyway. Watch other humans close as the demons will attempt to slip into them and use them against you.”

  Damien stood and stepped into the aisle. “Have no worry, Father. Isobel will be well protected.”

  Father Thomas also stood. “With two such as you to guard her, I have no doubt. I must go now unless you have further need of me.”

  “No, we have to get back on the road.” Damien shook hands with the priest. “Thank you, Father, and all of those before you who have kept the blood safe.”

  “We all have our duties to God to perform. I merely did what God wished of me.” Father Thomas stepped past them and walked quietly away.

  Isobel followed Damien and Lucian toward the doors. She paused and looked back one last time, her gaze traveling over the magnificence of the interior then she turned and stepped out into the sunshine.

  The deep sense of peace ebbed out of her as they circled the building back to the car. A prickle of warning ran over her skin raising the hairs on her arms. Damien and Lucian moved closer to her. Though Isobel didn’t see any demons, she felt them watching her. Damien’s arm went around her and pulled her close. She worked to keep up with his pace. The vial felt like a target around her neck. Her fingers reached to trace the slim rounded glass beneath her shirt making certain it was there and safe.

  Damien looked at her as he started the car. “Make sure your seat belt is secure and tight. Even if we make it out of the city, I have no doubt they will follow us.”

  Isobel tugged on the belt to make sure it was latched tight. Her stomach rolled with nerves. The vial was fragile and could easily be destroyed.

  Before long they were back on the highway and racing south as Damien pushed the speed limit. The road wasn’t as crowded now that rush hour was over. Isobel stared out the window while the city flew by. Damien slowed down and pulled over when lights started to flash behind them.

  Isobel’s stomach churned as the officer got out of his car and walked up to the driver’s side window. “I need to see your license and registration, please.”

  Damien made no move for the glove compartment. He kept his irritation to a minimum and captured the cop’s eyes in an intense stare. “No, you don’t. I wasn’t speeding. You were just heading back to your car. In fact, once we pull away, you won’t even remember us.”

  The officer stared back at him for a long moment, then turned on his heels and walked back to his cruiser.

  Isobel stared at him. “What was that?”

  “Necessary.” Damien glanced at her.

  “You can control people’s minds?”

  “We can compel people, but only when the safety of our channels is in question or if a human has seen too much.” Damien pulled the car back onto the road and hit the gas. “We aren’t allowed to compel people to hand us their bank account numbers or anything like that.” The car sped past the speed limit and didn’t slow down again until they reached the entrance to the toll road. Thankfully, there was no line and they were able to pass through it quickly.

  Isobel knew she should be relieved none of the demons had attacked them outright, but it was coming. It was inevitable and the waiting had her tied in knots.

  The sun set at their backs and the night claimed the sky when Damien took an exit. Isobel glanced anxiously at him. “Why are we stopping?”

  “The car needs gas.” Damien’s eyes roamed the area as they pulled into the gas station, his jaw tight and every muscle in his broad shoulders tense.

  Only two other cars sat in the parking lot under the harsh glare of florescent lighting. Isobel looked through the glass front of the convenience store. One of the cars must belong to the lone attendant manning the counter.

  The pressure in her bladder reminded her that they hadn’t stopped anywhere since the church that morning. “I need to go inside for a moment.”

  Damien parked the car at the pumps and glanced back at Lucian. “Fill it up; I’ll take Isobel in with me.”

  Lucian gave him a tight nod and left the car. Damien turned to her, a dangerous look in his eyes. “Do not let your guard down, even for a moment.”

  “I won’t,” she said and opened the door. Damien was out of the car and taking her hand before she even got her leg out. His arm anchored her to his side as they moved across the parking lot with quick steps.

  Damien took her to the back hallway where a blue door on either side led to the men’s and women’s restrooms. A third door led to the outside from the hallway. Damien opened the door and swept the interior of the single bathroom with his
eyes before allowing her inside. “Lock the door. I’m going to pay for the gas and grab something for you to eat and drink.”

  The bell over the front door dinged and the voices of a large group of teenagers raised in friendly banter reached them. Damien glanced down the hallway. “Stay in there until I come for you.”

  Isobel slid past him and shut the door turning the deadbolt. When she finished and washed her hands she stood with them folded, leaning against the wall and staring at the patterns the small tiles made on the floor. The doorknob wiggled and then someone knocked. Damien would just call her name. “It’s occupied,” Isobel called.

  A younger girl’s voice drifted through the door. “Ah, man. Please tell me you won’t be long.”

  “I shouldn’t be too long.”

  She heard the sound of feet shuffling. “I’m about to wet my pants.”

  Isobel sighed. She wasn’t going to make someone pee their pants. Damien would likely be done any second. There shouldn’t be a problem as long as she headed straight for him the minute she left the safety of the small room. Isobel unlocked the door and opened it to the relieved face of a girl that was probably about sixteen.

  “Ah, thanks!” The girl practically ran into the bathroom and shut the door.

  Isobel shook her head and turned to leave the hallway as a man came out of the men’s room across the hall.

  Her head slammed into the wall and exploded in pain, bright lights flashed across her vision. A heavy hand clamped over her mouth, jerking her backward into something solid. Isobel’s head swam. The door at the back of the hall opened and the man hauled her outside.

  Panic raced through her veins, clearing away some of the dizziness. Isobel clawed at the hand and kicked back with all her strength. She twisted and arched her back, trying to free herself of the grasp. A grunt of pain issued in her ear when her heel connected with a knee.

  The man yanked her away and threw her up against the backside of the building. The wind was briefly knocked out of her from the force of her body slamming into the painted concrete block of the wall. He lunged at her and in the glow of the lone florescent light above the door, dark shadows swirled through his eyes.

  He smashed the weight of his body against hers, pinning her to the wall, one arm pressed across her throat. Isobel scratched and clawed at him as his other hand yanked up the hem of her shirt and fumbled under the thin material for the vial.

  Isobel gasped for air under the pressure of his arm on her throat and brought her knee up. His breath exploded into her face in a sour rush. She gasped and tried to orientate herself when he sagged away from her. The door. Isobel staggered to it but couldn’t get it to open from the outside.

  A smoky shadow came around the far corner. Isobel tried to embrace her power but a wave of dizziness rolled over her and the power slipped away. She turned and tried to run back the other way. The world slid to one side and snapped back. She stumbled. The man on the ground reached out impossibly fast and grabbed her foot sending her sprawling to the ground. Her head struck the pavement in the same place it had hit the wall. Fueled by the rage of the demon inside, he yanked her toward him. Isobel’s mind reeled as she tried to focus on getting away. She kicked him in the face with her other foot. His nose crunched and he howled at her as blood poured down his face. Isobel tried to yank her foot away from the man’s grasp; they couldn’t get the vial.

  He snarled at her, his eyes blackened with the shadow of the demon. The other one leapt across the distance and landed on her back, driving her into the ground. The vial dug into the flesh of her chest, grinding on the pavement. She tried to scream; it came out as a groan. Its claws raked across her skin, seeking the chain around her neck.

  Isobel’s lungs wheezed as she fought for air. And then the weight was gone. The claws tore through the skin of her arm as it flung her aside. She skidded several feet across the rough pavement. Her skin stung from the scrapes down her arms and legs. Bright light filled the area. Isobel crawled on her hands and knees until she came to the wall.

  She turned her head trying to understand why she was free. Damien fought with the demon who had sat on her back, his wings unfurled, the muscles in his arms standing out as he pinned it to the ground and held a symbol to the shrieking form while Latin rolled off his tongue.

  Lucian, also with his wings out and surrounded by light, snapped the neck of the man who had attacked her and then tackled the demon that tried to flee the dead body. The world wobbled. Or maybe it was her. Isobel couldn’t be sure.

  “Oh, my God!” The voice of the gas station attendant cut through the night. Isobel glanced up at the young man. He looked as pale as a ghost staring at the dead man lying on the ground.

  In a blurring movement, Damien had the attendant pushed up against the wall, one hand on the guy’s chest. “You saw nothing. You will have no memory of this at all.”

  The attendant nodded. His face was empty, and his eyes glazed as he turned and walked away.

  Isobel pushed to her feet, using the wall for support. She reached for the vial hanging around her neck and relief washed through her when she found it unharmed. The world wobbled more, swaying dangerously out of control. Isobel leaned against the wall and cradled her head in her hands. Why was the world moving like that? Her stomach rolled. A groan escaped her lips and tears leaked from her eyes from the agony that stabbed through her head.

  “Meae deliciae?” Damien stood in front of her, his gentle tone at odds with the anger pulsing through him, though his anger wasn’t for her. His heart clenched when he took her face in his hands and made her look up at him. A large lump and bruise were spreading near the hairline on one side of her forehead, and her pupils were reacting wrong to the bright light. “Why did you leave the restroom?”

  Why had she? Isobel had to think for a minute. “Some girl really needed to go.” Damien’s face tilted with the world and she closed her eyes. “Make it stop.”

  Damien pulled her against him when she swayed, worry flooding him. “Make what stop?”

  “The world. You’re an angel; surely you can make the world stop wobbling like that.” She sank into him. With her eyes closed, everything began a slow spin.

  Damien grabbed her as Isobel’s knees buckled. “Isobel!”

  “I’m here. Just make it stop.”

  “I can’t, meae deliciae.” Damien glanced over at Lucian. “Get the car; we need to get out of here. You’re driving for a while.” He looked back at Isobel. “Is the vial still intact?”

  She nodded then winced. “They didn’t break it. I don’t think they really wanted it broke, they wanted to take it away.” Isobel pressed the heel of her hand to her head.

  Lucian was only gone for a few seconds before the car skidded around the corner and slid to a stop. Damien looked down. “Isobel, can you walk?”

  He reluctantly let her go when she pulled away. “I think so.”

  Isobel took two steps toward the car then stumbled and fell. Damien caught her before she hit the ground. “I’ve got you.” He lifted her into his arms and carried her to the car, sliding into the backseat with her. He didn’t bother with seat belts; instead he positioned his back against the door with one foot on the floorboard and the other propped on the seat. Isobel sat curled up in the seat between his legs, her head resting on his chest.

  Lucian punched the gas and tore around the backside of the store and out onto the street. When they gained the highway he caught Damien’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “How bad is it?”

  Damien kept one arm around her as his fingers explored the bump and spreading bruise on her head. “Bad enough. Nothing feels broken, but I think she might have a concussion.”

  “I could have made it to the car you know, if you would have made everything stop tilting,” Isobel mumbled against his shirt.

  He tightened his arms around her. Isobel stirred. “Why did Lucian kill that man?”

  “Meae deliciae, he attacked you. What did you want done with him?”

>   “It wasn’t his fault; he had a demon in him.” She brought her hand up to her forehead and grimaced.

  “A lower level demon can’t force a man to do something that wasn’t already somewhere in his heart. They prey on that and intensify it. It usually takes a while for the demon to bring everything to the surface in order for the human to act on the demon’s wishes.” He gently brushed her hair away from her face. “That man had only been possessed for a few minutes at most. For him to do what he did…he would’ve had to commit such acts before only he wouldn’t have stopped at the vial during those.”

  “I thought only the Higher Powers got to pass judgment.” She tried to move so she could look at him but gasped and held her head with her hand.

  Damien traced his fingers over the lump. He wasn’t sure if it was life threatening at this point. If not, he couldn’t heal it but he might be able to ease the pain. Damien embraced his powers as he answered her, “We are dark angels, meae deliciae.” He allowed his power to slip through his fingertips and into the wound on her head. “In defense of our channels, we have the right to pass judgment.”

  Isobel said something incoherent and then, “Are we in Wichita yet?”

  Damien looked down at her and his heart lurched. Maybe it was worse than he thought. Her eyelids drooped, and he gave her a shake. “Isobel, meae deliciae, I need you to stay awake for now.” He changed tactics and whispered for permission to heal.

  The bruise faded and the lump under his fingers disappeared. His breath froze in his chest for a moment. It shouldn’t have done that unless it threatened her life. He wrapped his arms around her again and pulled her tight against him, lowering his face to her hair.

  “Damien?” her voice sounded soft and sleepy.

  “Yes, meae deliciae?” Damien whispered into her hair.

  “My head doesn’t hurt anymore.”

  He ran his hand down her hair. “I know, you can sleep now.” She mumbled something and slipped into a deep slumber.

  Lucian growled quietly and ripped the tattered remains of his shirt away. “That was too damn close.”