by Ursula Bauer
———
Meg reached for Angel. The spell would release her soul, setting it free to return to the void. Her spirit would move on, escaping damnation. She would no longer be a prisoner of her crazed father and his insane obsession.
She grabbed Angel in an embrace and the spell surge through her, threatening to tear her limbs and body to shreds. Angel’s arms wrapped around her and held her steady. The ground began to quake and a blinding light erupted around them.
A moment later, her vision cleared. The mummified corpse was nothing more than a pile of dust and moldy bandages heaped on the floor. She was weak and cold, and at the same time, she had a burning sensation deep in her belly. She shook off the feelings and turned back to look for Gideon.
He fought the last Keeper, moving with unmatched fury, beating the creature back only to be beaten back himself. Fires blazed all around. She started to cross the room to reach Gideon, to try and help. Perhaps the magic could aide him. Flames raged all around and ash and death filled the air. Gideon was cut in a hundred different spots, battered and bruised from the hellacious army he’d fought. She was still unsteady from the magic, and her steps faltered as she moved, but her need to keep him safe propelled her into action.
Bill was in the process of getting up from the floor. Blood poured from slash marks on his cheek. His skin was ashen, his movements shaky. He managed to get to his feet as she neared Gideon. He moved, creating an effective barrier. They locked eyes and she felt his madness deep inside her soul.
“Why, Meg? I could have healed them all. Saved all the children, not just Angel.”
“You’re not a God, Bill.” She’d have to go through him to reach her immortal.
“I could have become one. You think you can with the Buckle’s Power. You think it will protect you, but it won’t. Not from this.”
A silver dagger appeared in his hand as if conjured from air. He lunged, closing the distance at a rapid clip. Gideon must have sensed it coming. Before Meg could think to move, he broke from the demon and blocked Russell’s attack. His body stiffened for a moment as Russell impacted. Then he took Russell back to the ground.
“No!” She ran through the flames to reach him.
The Keeper stepped aside, a dazed look on its twisted features. It rubbed its eyes and glanced around the room.
Gideon got to his knees, pulled the dagger from his chest, and drove it into Bill’s heart. The Keeper reoriented, howled wildly, and grabbed Russell’s body from Gideon. It flung the dagger aside, punched through Russell’s chest wall, and ripped out his heart. The creature swallowed it whole, and then vanished with the corpse in a cloud of black soot.
Gideon fell over onto his back and Meg knelt by his side. Blood pumped from his wound. It showed none of the normal characteristics she’d come to associate with his kind. It was gaping and raw, and he was going into shock. She realized he was dying.
“Hold on, Gideon.” She put her hand over the wound but the blood continued to run, flowing around and through her fingers like a warm river. For some reason, her touch no longer healed. Panic raced through her. “You can’t die on me. You’re immortal.”
He shook his head. A small trickle of blood oozed from the corner of his mouth. “I’m sorry.”
Her tears dropped on him, mixing with his life flow. “Why won’t this work! Damn the Gods, it’s gone. I can’t heal you.”
“You have, Doc.” He raised his arm, touched her cheek lightly with already cooling fingers. His eyes locked with hers and held her fast. “I love you. You were right. Heart enough for both of us.”
She held his hand against her face, felt him chill against her, watched as the light dimmed in his eyes and vanished. Her heart seized, her sobs mixed with coughs as the blaze engulfed the room. The smoke thickened until she could barely see. She stayed holding him, the man she loved, hoping the touch would come back, hoping he would come back. Dimly, she thought she heard voices.
Someone touched her shoulder. “Dr. Carter, it’s Matt. We need to get you out of here. It’s not safe.”
“Gideon,” she whispered.
“He’s gone.” Matt coughed heavily from the smoke. “And he’d kick my ass if I left his job half-done.”
“I’m not leaving him.”
“He died trying to keep you alive. Don’t let his sacrifice be in vain.”
The words penetrated the fog of her grief. “Please, bring his body.”
“We will. Don’t worry.”
Chapter Fourteen
Gideon woke in the Hall of the Forty-Two Assessors. His chest burned like hellfire. He was on a slab, and Salazar, Bast and Seth loomed over him.
“Where’s Meg? Is she okay?”
Bast nodded, her luminous eyes reflecting his haggard face back at him. “She lives. Because of you.”
The pain abated some. Thank the Gods. She was alive. His last memory of her she was holding his hand, crying. Trying to heal him. The spell had discharged. She’d survived. Nothing else mattered. “I’m dead again, right?”
“Indeed.” This from Salazar.
He looked as bad as Gideon felt. “You look terrible, Ramon. Don’t tell me you’re dead too.”
The Spaniard smiled wanly. “I’m not that lucky.”
Gideon shifted, adjusted to the pain of movement, and sat up. “If I’m dead, how come I’m here? And why can I feel pain?”
Ramon and Bast turned to glare at Seth. The Egyptian God of Chaos raised a brow and waived a hand. Instantly, Gideon felt nothing.
He climbed off the marble table. It had been centuries since his first ordeal, but he knew what was coming. “Did you come to watch the games, Seth?”
“I came to thank you. Your unconventional interpretation of orders saved the mortal world, and preserved the balance. For now.” His smile never reached his ice-cold eyes. “And I’m here to make sure Bastet and Ramon follow Council guidelines.”
Bast’s supple golden body rippled with indignation. She turned her back to the other God and addressed Gideon.
“You have gone well above the call of duty. You have fulfilled your oaths and shown loyalty to the Covenant. Had you expired under different circumstances, I would have offered you a peaceful eternity in the afterlife, for your service has been exemplary.”
This was news to Gideon. “No lake of fire, or dismemberment during the darkest hour of night by Sokar?”
“You don’t sound pleased,” Bast purred.
Peaceful eternity meant a conscious eternity. One where he could remember Meg, what they shared. Pain gripped his heart. He stared down at the still open hole. “You said had I expired under different circumstances, that was my offer. What do these circumstances get me?”
“You can still have that choice, Gideon, your eternal peace.” Bast glided across the floor, her movements a mix of regal deity and feline grace. She laid a hand upon his chest, covering the hole with the flat of her soft palm. The ache eased and the hole closed. “Or you can take the test of the dead again. If you can pass Sokar’s trial this time and your consciousness can hold up to her scrutiny and stay whole, if you can demonstrate your heart is no longer wanting, the Council and Tribunal have agreed to restore you to mortality.”
Mortality. The word held everything for him. Hope. Promise. Paradise. Meg. “Last time I passed through the darkest part of the night, I didn’t have anything worth remembering. I wanted my consciousness gone. I didn’t care.”
Bast’s silken lips tilted up in a secretive smile. “When I first found you and put you through the trials, you believed yourself unworthy of love. Your heart came up wanting and you proved of use to us. I take it the years have matured you and you no longer believe such things?”
Gideon hadn’t thought of it that way. Now, with all his lives behind him, both mortal and immortal, it all fit. He never allowed himself to love or be loved. It took Meg to break his spell. “I believe I can pass this time.”
Seth crossed his bare, muscled arms. His handsome face was t
ight, his lips thin. “If you don’t, Sokar gets to shred you and dine on your entrails. There will be no afterlife. No peace.”
Without Meg, eternal paradise might as well be the barren plains of hell. It was a gamble, there were other parts of the trials where he could trip up. But life with Meg was worth any price. Worth any risk. He fixed Seth with an unblinking stare. “Just bring it.”
———
“Bring Dr. Carter into the casting room. We need to post a guard.”
Meg watched the fluorescent lights on the ceiling of St. Alban’s hospital pass by as they wheeled her out of the emergency room bay, and into the casting room. Matt Reichart was at her side the whole way. He insisted she be sheltered from the madness in the ER, and wanted to make sure she was safe. On the other side of her was the tight-lipped, grim immortal in the leather duster. He was stoic, brooding, and reminded her far too much of Gideon and her loss.
“I’ll stand guard,” he ground out at Matt.
“Like hell. You guys are the ones responsible for this mess. I want my team on the job. If you don’t mind.”
“I do mind, son. Your guys ain’t trained to handle things the way we are. We don’t know the threat is neutralized.”
They continued to argue as the nurse’s aide locked the stretcher bed into place and brought over a roll away table.
Meg tuned them out. She’d been in the ER all night. Dawn had come and gone, but the last thing she wanted to consider was facing the new day alone. She couldn’t think of anything, not Bill’s treachery, not the impact to her career or the clinic, not even the kids in the study. All she could think of was Gideon, and her loss. Her sorrow was all consuming.
She held his cell phone in her hand, the only thing other than her memories she had left. Her eyes burned. She had no more tears left to cry. She let her lids close, let the sound of the hospital and the men drone over her. Her thoughts drifted freely into better memories. If she tried hard, really concentrated, she could almost smell him, almost touch him. In her mind’s eye, though, she pictured him clearly. He couldn’t be gone. Nothing could be more wrong.
“You gentleman will need to wait outside,” said a new voice. “I need to talk with Dr. Carter alone.”
“No,” her protectors said in unison.
Meg opened her eyes. Dr. Schwartz, the young ER doctor stood in the doorway in rumpled scrubs. He was thin and looked tired, but showed no signs of backing down.
Meg came to his aid. “I’ll be fine. Doctor patient privilege.”
Matt and the other immortal, Lucas, didn’t care for the idea but they did as asked. The aide fluffed her pillows, poured her fresh ice water and left her with the doctor.
“You’re doing great for someone who survived a fire. I saw it on the news. That old house was a few blocks from the clinic. It’s amazing the whole neighborhood didn’t go up.”
She vaguely recalled the spreading flames, the explosions as Matt carried her to safety. She knew they’d used some cover story for her being in the basement of the old brownstone along the river. She didn’t care. Not about that. Not about anything.
“Did they bring in the body of a man in a black leather biker jacket?”
The question took him back. He shifted uncomfortably and glanced at his clipboard. Meg knew the only information it contained pertained to her medical condition and insurance status. Nothing about any other victims. It was a standard doctor tactic, used to stall for time, to regain professional poise. “Uh, nothing about that. I can call the morgue after we’re done.”
“I’d appreciate that.” She didn’t trust the Gods not to steal Gideon away from her. She would give him a decent, mortal burial. She would pray for him, visit him, bring him flowers. The world swam before her eyes. She shut them and covered them with her hand. The doctor moved closer to her.
“He was important to you, this man who died?”
She nodded, her throat tight. “He was everything.”
Dr. Schwartz touched her shoulder lightly. “Was he the baby’s father?”
Baby? Gideon was immortal, sterile. They’d made love less than two days ago.
There may be changes we can’t see…
The spell. The magic. They should have considered that, she thought, been more careful. Jack had warned them it might do things to her body, things no one could predict. It must be powerful indeed, to overcome Gideon’s problems, and to show lab results only a day later. Impossible. And yet, how much had she once thought impossible, only to be proved wrong by a crazy reality with ideas of its own? Baby. Hers. His. Theirs.
The awesome revelation brought her back to herself. She moved her hand from her eyes and tentatively touched her abdomen. New life. A new soul. Isis, Goddess of Fertility and Life. “Yes,” she whispered. “He was the father.”
“I’m sorry.”
She looked up at the doctor, surprised to see genuine concern in his pale blue eyes. He was one of the good guys, the kind that cared. “So am I.”
“You’re early in the pregnancy. There’s nothing to indicate it’s at risk. I know it can’t make up for your loss.”
“No it can’t.” At least she’d have something other than memories of him now. She’d have a part of him with her, even if she couldn’t have him. She thought again about the spell. “Is there anything else I need to know? Anything out of the ordinary?”
“You’re in remarkable shape. In fact, you show no signs of smoke inhalation at all. Mainly, I wanted to let you know that your baby is fine, and we’ll be releasing you shortly. Do you have someone to see you home?”
No one that mattered. “Agent Reichart can take me.”
“The local police wanted to talk to you but I sent them packing. You can stay here and rest as long as you need to.”
“Thanks, Doc.”
“If you need someone to talk to, a grief counselor, I can call one.”
“Not now. It’s still too fresh.”
He nodded, made a few notes on his clipboard and left.
The man named Lucas entered.
“You really loved him, didn’t you?”
His voice was deep like Gideon’s but lacked the rasp, and the warmth. “I did.”
“Don’t worry. In a few days you’ll get a visit from one of the mystics. They’ll take care of the memories. It will ease the pain.”
Meg sat bolt upright. Her grief morphed into cold fury. “You’re not going to steal my memories.” Or my child. But they would try. She wouldn’t put it past them. They had their game, but she wasn’t playing anymore. Not by their rules, at least.
“You’ll feel better, Doctor Carter. It sounds cruel, but it’s the best way.”
“Get out!” She grabbed the call buzzer and jammed it down with her thumb. “Matt!”
Reichart burst through the door. “What is it? What did he do?”
“I’m tired. I need to rest. Get him out of here. Please.”
The burly agent faced off against the immortal. “You heard her, Preacher, hit the bricks.”
The dour immortal hesitated a moment, then complied. “You too, Reichart. Lady needs her rest.”
The moment they left Meg sprang into action. She opened Gideon’s cell and dialed Jack’s number. An answering machine picked up.
“Jack, it’s Meg. Gideon’s dead. I need your help. Call me.”
She climbed out of the hospital bed, got her clothes from the bag stored below, and dressed. There was only one door out of the room. She’d need to pass Lucas. He’d try to stop her. That left the window. Luckily St. Alban’s was a small, dated hospital. You could still open windows. Hers lead to a small roof. She surmised it was a one story drop to the rear lot where the ambulance bays were. She had her credit cards and ATM card. She could empty her account, rent a car, and be on the road in a few hours. There was no way she would let those fiends take from her the most precious things she had. No way.
She opened the window, sat on the sill, and stuck one leg outside.
The door to he
r room swung open.
“Going somewhere, Doc?”
A familiar voice rumbled like thunder through the air.
Meg’s heart skipped a beat. She turned and saw the ghost of the man she loved standing large as life in her room.
“I’m hallucinating.” She couldn’t draw in breath. “You’re dead. I watched you die.”
He crossed to her with a swift stride, slipped his arm around her waist and planted a toe curling kiss on her lips. She drowned in the contact. He was slow and patient, tasting her, savoring her, exploring as if it was his first time. Or, his last. When he drew back, she knew he was alive. Warm, breathing, holding her, with beating heart and flowing blood.
She held his face and fresh tears clouded her vision. He wrapped her in his embrace and rocked her in his arms as she sobbed, this time with a joy that defied explanation.
“It’s okay. I’m here to stay. I’m not leaving. Not ever.”
She cried so hard his shirt was soaked. His own tears slid down in silence, a strange cool fluid that was alien to him. Meg was wonderful in his arms, he never wanted to let her go. He held her until she calmed, then he carried her back to the bed and set her down gently.
“How?” Her voice was raw, her eyes bloodshot.
“The Covenant owed me. Big time. The Tribunal and Council gave me a shot at mortality. I took the test again.” He’d never seen anyone more beautiful. He’d never felt more loved. He took a tissue and wiped away her tears and his own. “You were right, Meg. You had heart enough for both of us. When I passed through the darkest part of the night of trials, I remembered that, I remembered you, I remembered our love. And I held together. My heart was weighed and came up whole. I passed. They made me mortal again.”
