Hold Me If You Can

by Stephanie Rowe

  Nigel dabbed the last stroke, his body shuddered with relief, and the blades finally stopped as all the darkness fled from his body into his art. Silence throbbed in the alley. Stillness crushed down on him. The aftermath of hell. Nigel bowed his head as exhaustion surged over him, his body depleted of all that it had to offer—

  Glass crashed to the ground, and he looked up in time to see another pane of glass fall from its third story window and crash to the alley. Around him, carnage. Bricks severed, cars destroyed like they’d lost a battle with an army of nail guns, glass everywhere.

  “Hell.” It was just like last time. When people had died. People he had loved with all of his heart. His mother. His father—

  “Natalie!” Ella’s shout ripped through him.

  Natalie. He leapt to his feet and sprinted back toward the store. He’d been too late to save his parents. Was he too late again?

  ***

  Killing his own mama had been bad.

  But losing his shit again, as a full warrior? Inconceivable.

  Nigel leapt across the threshold of the store and his heart froze when he saw Natalie crumpled to the floor. Ella and Maggie were crouched beside her, using lace doilies from a nearby box to try to stem the flow of blood from her chest. Revulsion poured through him. He’d done that? He’d hurt her? Natalie? How was that possible?

  “I can’t stop the bleeding,” Maggie said. “It won’t stop—”

  Her anguish galvanized him into action. “That’s because it’s my blades. Most people can’t heal them on their own.” People like his mother. Like his father. Like the only people in the entire fucking world that mattered to him.

  Maggie gaped at him. “You did this to her?”

  “I can fix it.” He didn’t waste time with her censure, on target though it was. Instead, he shoved in beside them and rubbed his hands together. His own body was bleeding badly and it hurt like hell, but he was glad for the pain. He deserved it.

  His palms emitted a faint glow, and he set them on Natalie’s chest.

  He felt her fading spirit almost immediately. The utter devastation to her body. Several blades were inside her, working their way into her body as if they were alive. He hadn’t released living blades in almost two hundred years. And into Natalie? “Jesus.” What was happening to him?

  “What did you do?” Ella was furious. “How could you not control yourself?”

  “Good question.” Nigel closed his eyes and fought to find the healing energy within him, but there was almost nothing there. Without his art, he was losing his healing as well. He didn’t have enough to save her. Shit! He needed an influx of energy.

  He jerked his phone out of his pocket and threw it at Ella. “Call Jarvis Swain. Tell him I need energy. Now.”

  Ella quickly dialed the phone while Nigel focused on Natalie. He found her heart and assessed the damage, while the blades kept ruthlessly digging deeper and deeper. “Come on, baby, fight it off.” He summoned all the energy he still had. His hands flared a bright orange light, and he shoved it all into her heart. The organ flared, he heard the shrieks of the lethal metal as it pulled back and released its grip. He frantically knit her heart together, fighting to bring her back while he still had juice.

  Ella held the phone up. “Jarvis is on the line. He says he’s never done an energy transfer over the phone, but he’ll try.”

  “Put it on speaker and hold it against my ear,” Nigel commanded. He rubbed Natalie’s chest. “Come on, Natalie. You can do this. Hang on, baby.”

  “Nigel.” Jarvis’s voice crackled in his ear.

  “Need all you got, buddy. I got nothing.”

  “I’m on it.”

  The phone went silent, and then Nigel heard the hum of Jarvis’s sword whipping through the air. He closed his eyes and pictured Jarvis’s sword spinning around in circles, harvesting all the energy from his environment, pulling it out of people, nature, the earth. Every creature, every object, everything.

  Nigel let the power ripple through him as Jarvis converted energy to sound waves. His body began to hum and his palms began to glow again. Nigel bent over Natalie and fed the energy into her body and quickly began working his way through her damaged cells. A blade worked its way to the surface and clattered onto the floor. One down. One more to go. He fought harder, worked faster, but he could feel Natalie slipping away. “I need more,” he barked.

  “Hang on,” Jarvis said. “I’ll feed it in one burst.”

  “I can help.” Maggie eased up beside him, her face almost as pale as Natalie’s. “I can generate a lot of energy.”

  Nigel didn’t give a shit how the girl could do it, or if she was making it up. He was willing to try anything. “Do it. Touch me.”

  The humming from the phone intensified, and he knew Jarvis was gearing up. “I don’t know if it’ll go through the phone as well as if I stabbed you, but I’ll try,” Jarvis shouted.

  “Give me a count,” Nigel shouted.

  “Help me get this box,” Maggie ordered Ella, no longer the meek, scared girl she’d been. Suddenly she looked like a young woman who knew her own strength. A female in her power zone. “I need it near Nigel.”

  Ella jumped up and helped carry a three-foot box across the floor. It dropped beside Nigel with a thump. The women ripped it open.

  The humming from Jarvis’s sword got louder.

  Natalie’s pulse became fainter.

  Nigel’s healing energy faded even more, despite Jarvis’s influx. “Come on,” he shouted. “Bring it on!”

  Maggie plunged her hands into the box, and he saw it was cocoa powder. Thick, dark, luxurious, it drifted up in the air like dust. Maggie shoved her hands around and stirred it up, until the air filled with a chocolate fog. Calling upon chocolate as her energy source.

  “Three!” Jarvis shouted, starting his countdown.

  Natalie’s heart beat once, sluggishly.

  Ella grabbed handfuls of chocolate powder and poured it on Maggie’s head.

  “Two!” Jarvis’s humming got louder. Almost ready.

  A blade pierced the lining of Natalie’s heart, and Nigel slammed energy in front of the invader, creating a wall to protect her. He shuddered as he felt it touch his energy. It was poisoned. Barbed. Dripping with death. If that blade touched her heart, it would be instant cardiac arrest. Mother of hell, what had he created? And when had he developed the ability to make that? And how in God’s name had it made it into the body of the one woman he wanted to protect?

  Because he wanted to protect her. Because he cared. That’s why the blades had targeted her. It was exactly like the last time—

  The blade burst through Nigel’s virtual wall and plunged for Natalie’s heart.

  “One!” Jarvis shouted, and the force of explosion knocked Nigel on his ass. He bounded back to his feet and grabbed Natalie. Energy was racing through him and he plunged it into Natalie. He had almost enough. “Maggie! Give it to me now!”

  Maggie’s eyes were completely black, empty pits in her face, and her face was sheer white. Then she placed her hands on Nigel’s face, and sheer electrical force blasted through his skin where she was holding him.

  Yes! Power pulsed within him, and he began to work on Natalie, feeding the healing energy into her as quickly as he dared. He had enough now, but could he heal her before the blades killed her? It was a race with a deadly outcome.

  He went faster, shoving the energy into her as fast as he dared, gauging her reaction. Her body lurched and he backed off, easing off the influx. Too much could kill her as fast as the blades could. He had to balance it just right.

  Then her heart stopped.

  “She’s gone,” Ella gasped. “She’s gone!”

  “No, she’s not,” he snapped. Screw the gradual approach. “You can do it, sweetheart.”

  He summoned all force swirling through his body, converted it to his healing frequency, and shoved it all into his hands until they were radiating so much energy that they looked like a bad nuclea
r waste movie.

  Ella grabbed his arm. “She’ll never survive all that.”

  “She won’t survive without it.” Nigel fully opened his connection with Natalie, and then he released the entire force into her, attacking the last blade and every bit of damage in the same instant, a whiteout blast of energy powerful enough to blow her to pieces if he didn’t manage it right.

  But Nigel was aware of every cell in her body, of every fragment of metal circulating inside her, of every breath of life, of every taint of death. He attuned himself to the very beat of her soul, until his own heart was beating in rhythm, until his spirit was vibrating at the same level of hers.

  The connection was alive and intimate, a merging of the souls that stripped him raw and laid him out for her. But he didn’t feel exposed. It was where he’d needed to be, where he’d always needed to be. His entire world was Natalie’s body, her soul, her existence, the danger trying to take her. He could feel her soul calling to him, opening for his touch, and he allowed the warmth of her energy to fill him, empowering him.

  There was no resistance from Natalie. She was opening herself to him, trusting him to help her. He could feel her calling to him, drawing his energy even deeper into hers, mixing their auras until they were indistinguishable. Her love, her warmth, her fears, her sensuality wrapped around, drawing from him responses so deep and so powerful he couldn’t have stopped them if he’d wanted to.

  But he didn’t. No chance. He’d never felt this alive, this connected, this beautiful in his whole existence, and he never wanted to step away. And he wouldn’t. Not as long as she needed him. I won’t let you down, Natalie. I swear it. Wrapping his warmth around her spirit, he cradled her soul protectively as his healing raced through the battlefield, wiping away the insidious damage he’d caused, and he felt each moment her body inhaled with relief as he freed another part, and tightened the bond between them.

  Again and again and again.

  And then her heart stuttered, and it began to beat its rhythm, that beautiful, amazing rhythm that spoke of life, of future, of healing. His heart matched hers, and he bowed his head, allowing the power of her life force to roll through him. Her soul reached for him, and he met her, their energy holding onto each other as they both began to breathe again.

  They’d done it.

  Together, they’d defeated his darkest side.

  For now.

  ***

  Nigel liked to be right.

  As a man, it was his calling. To be right. Always right. Especially about anything that might have to do with such manly pursuits as battle, weapons, or torture.

  But as Nigel vaulted up the stairs from the basement hideaway of Natalie’s store, where he’d reluctantly left a recovering Natalie in the devoted care of Ella and Maggie, he knew it wasn’t a matter of liking to be right.

  He had to be right this time, and he had to know now whether he was. Once he’d gotten Natalie settled comfortably and knew she would soon be waking up, he had to go check. It had been all he could do to tear himself away from her when all he wanted was to sit with her on his lap, but he’d forced himself to leave.

  It was just for a minute, but that minute was everything. It would give him answers about what they were facing, about whether he would have to call upon Natalie to trespass into areas she didn’t want to go, whether life was a whole lot darker than he wanted it to be.

  There was only one way to know what their future was holding, and that was to find out who he had really drawn on the floor of the ally. Christian or Blaine? Or someone else?

  As Nigel sprinted out the back door of the store, he did a very careful and thorough scan to make sure there were no threats lurking nearby that could endanger Natalie while she was out of his presence.

  The area was secure. No deedubs, no threats. Just the taint of black magic that was trailing after Natalie. Shit. They had to deal with that, and soon. No way could he let her turn into her worst nightmare. Just couldn’t happen.

  He sprinted into the alley and headed straight for the Dunkin’ Donuts coffee and the wooden stirrer that had saved his sanity. He crouched beside the abandoned coffee and searched the debris for the picture he’d drawn. Come on, let me be right.

  And then he saw it, and glory be, he was right. The face scowling up at him was Blaine’s, not Christian’s. “Hot damn.” He sat back on his heels and closed his eyes.

  After he’d tried to draw Natalie and had wound up drawing Christian instead, he’d been worried that he’d remembered wrong this time, that he hadn’t noticed what he’d really been drawing.

  But he was right. It hadn’t been Christian. Christian was still safe. Yes.

  He flexed his shoulders, feeling power rush through him. So, yeah, he was back in control. He was the master of his domain again. It would make sense that he was. He was a man, after all, and he was in utter control of who he was, right? Nigel grinned and rubbed out Blaine’s feet with the toe of his boot. “Not to take any chances, though, buddy—”

  The feet didn’t disappear. He scuffed his boot over Blaine’s face… but the dried coffee remained intact. Nigel frowned and kicked at the dirt, but the image didn’t budge. It was permanently struck on the ally floor, forever. Coffee on dirt? Permanent? The sharp pulse of dread knifed through his back.

  He pulled out his phone and dialed his team leader.

  Blaine’s phone went straight to voicemail.

  “Call me now,” Nigel barked into the phone.

  Then he dialed again. Straight to voicemail.

  Blaine never turned his phone off. He lived by the creed that you never turned your back on your team, and going offline could mean he wasn’t there for someone when he was needed, so he never turned it off. Ever.

  Nigel dialed Jarvis, who answered on the first ring. “Yo, painter boy. Did it work?”

  “Yeah. Is Blaine around?” Jarvis and Blaine had joined forces to take their new women on a romantic interlude somewhere in the South Pacific.

  “No, I haven’t seen him today. Heard some screaming from their cabin earlier, but you know how those two get—”

  Nigel’s palms began to burn and smoke rose from them. “Check their cabin.”

  “What? No way. I’ll get set on fire if they’re in the middle of—”

  “Check their cabin. Now.”

  Jarvis was silent for a moment. “What’s going on, Nigel?”

  Nigel told him.

  “Hell, man, don’t paint me.” There was the sound of boots thudding on the wooden deck of the cruise ship as Jarvis loped toward the cabin.

  Waiting, unable to do anything constructive, Nigel stared helplessly at the metal blades jammed in the buildings around him, evidence of his descent into insanity. He saw a well-dressed couple walking toward him, and he watched their faces morph into shock and fear when they noticed the millions of knives lodged in everything.

  “It must have been a gang fight,” the man said.

  “What if they come back?” The woman clutched her purse to her side.

  Oh, they’re back. You’re looking right at him. Nigel watched them turn and scurry back down the alley. Away from the monster who had left behind such carnage.

  “Blaine! Trinity!” Jarvis hammered on the door cabin door. “You guys in there?”

  Nigel let a small dagger ease out of his palm, and he crouched beside the drawing of Blaine and tried to chisel it off the asphalt.

  The blade broke. The coffee drawing stayed intact. Indestructible. Yeah, and that was a good sign. “No answer,” Jarvis said. “I’ll break in.” There was a loud crash and then the sound of wood splintering.

  Sweat trickled down Nigel’s back, and his skin began to burn. Not just his palms. His shoulders. His back. His face. Blades taking shape all over his whole body. Again. Come on! Where was his control? This was crap!

  “There’s no one here,” Jarvis said. “The hair dryer is still on, and Blaine’s electric razor is running. They got yanked.”

  Nigel swor
e and threw the dagger into the asphalt. It hit the coffee and bounced off, as if the drawing was magically protected.

  Which it probably was.

  Son of a bitch. Mari had corrupted his painting and used it to steal another warrior.

  “I’ll be home as fast I as I can,” Jarvis said.

  Nigel realized he was reaching for that same coffee stirrer again, and he jammed his hand in his pocket, taking away his chance to draw before he could burn someone else. “It’ll be over before then.”

  One way or another, this was one battle that was going to die fast.

  And Natalie was his only chance to survive it.

  Would she even be willing to come near him after he’d almost killed her?

  She’d trusted him to save her, yeah, but now that she was okay, would she be foolish enough to risk herself with him?

  If she had any sense of self-preservation, she would boot his ass out of her life forever. For good.

  Chapter 11

  “Maggie, I’ve changed my mind,” Ella said.

  Natalie rolled over as Ella’s voice penetrated her subconscious.

  “About what?” Maggie asked.

  “I’m not going to help Natalie,” Ella said.

  “What?” Natalie forced her eyes open and looked groggily around. She was startled to find they were in the Creative Brainstorming Utopia below her store, her private retreat that she never allowed anyone in, or had even told anyone about. How had the women found it?

  The Utopia had deep red tapestries, a handwoven tasseled rug, textured bronzed walls, and dim lighting. The room was only a few feet wide, a former boiler room or something, but she’d co-opted it as a place to clear her mind and create new recipes. There was no room for furniture, but she’d covered the floor with a decadent number of thick, luxurious pillows in an assortment of fabrics more expensive than most of the cars on Newbury Street. It was a place of sensual assault in all directions, with the lighting and the colors and the fabrics and the music.

  The moment she entered this room, Natalie’s soul always came alive. The deepest sources of her power would course through her. It was where she spent a half hour every morning before heading upstairs to start wooing customers. It was the place where she released a lifetime of fear of her oncoming death and doomed future. It was where she tapped into herself and her sensuality.