by AE Jones
Chapter 44
My head hurt. Why did my head hurt so much? Had someone smashed it with a baseball bat? After I took a couple of deep breaths so I wouldn’t throw up, I opened my eyes slightly. The room was dark with the exception of a lamp in the corner, but even that low light was like a lance in my skull.
Then I remembered. I was dead. Wait, if my head was imploding, then I couldn’t be dead, right? The pain would be gone.
Unless I was in hell. Oh, crap, was I in hell? I mean, I didn’t think so. Could sarcasm and a disdain for authority land you in hell? I moaned.
Movement came from the dark corner of the room.
“Kyle? Are you back with us?”
The disjointed voice made me happy, because I somehow knew it. I tried to say so, but nothing came out.
Light pressure landed on my shoulder. “Don’t try to talk. You’re okay.”
For once, I didn’t argue. I closed my eyes and slept. For a long time.
But I wasn’t alone.
Voices kept me company while I dozed. So many voices that changed over the seemingly endless time I slept. At first I couldn’t put names to them. But I knew they were protecting me.
The first one I recognized was Jean Luc. Lilting tones interlaced with French terms of endearment, followed by Misha’s deep bass. Another time Talia talked to me, and Doc’s no-nonsense voice spoke to me as well.
Jason, Matthew, and Griffin followed. Trina’s young voice also filled my head with stories from school. Sylvia, Irina, and Boris. Even Kevin Doyle teased me about finally being able to get a word in edgewise.
But one voice was missing from my memories. One voice I wanted to hear more than the others. To know he was okay.
I finally opened my eyes and was able to keep them open without feeling like sharp sticks were invading my skull. I blinked and turned my head to the side.
Misha sat in the chair next to the bed. He was leaning with his elbows on his knees, his head in his hands.
“Mish?” I croaked.
He jerked at my voice and leapt to his feet. “Kyle?”
I nodded, and the tension in his face simply disappeared. I opened my mouth and tried to speak again, but it felt like sand and cotton were waging a war in my mouth.
“Don’t try to talk.” He reached for a button on the wall and pushed it. Seconds later, Doc bustled into the room, followed by Jean Luc.
“There’s my girl!” Doc said as she stepped up to the bed. “All right. Everyone out while I take a look at her. Go on, now. No arguments.”
Doc spent a few minutes looking me over, listening to my heart and lungs. She reviewed the monitors. Then she checked my pupils with a small flashlight and frowned slightly.
“What?” I choked out.
“Nothing. You’re fine.” She picked up a pink plastic pitcher and poured a small amount of water into a matching cup and placed a straw into it. “Take just a small sip, Kyle. It should help.”
I swallowed, and the glorious cool liquid ran down my throat. How could water taste so good? I took another pull on the straw, and then Doc took it away from me. “Enough for now. I don’t want you to get sick.” She laid her hand on my arm. “How do you feel?”
“Okay…tired.”
“Do you remember what happened?”
“Yes.” I whispered. “How long?”
“You were in a coma for twenty-four hours, and then you woke up for a few seconds, and then slipped back under for three days.”
“Voices?”
Doc smiled. “Yeah, I can imagine you heard voices. We haven’t left you alone. We’ve been taking shifts with you. Talking to you to try and coax you out of your coma.”
“Dalton?”
“He’s okay, Kyle. He burned his arm getting you out of the fire, but he’s fine. He was summoned back to Chicago to report. We had to make up some interesting case notes for him. He stopped the killer. Unfortunately for the Feds, but fortunately for us, Saul’s body was burned beyond recognition, so they couldn’t perform a full autopsy. We’ve sent the twins back to the realm.”
“The Key.”
“What about it?”
“It’s gone.”
“You’re sure?”
I nodded. I wasn’t sure how I knew, but it wasn’t in me anymore. “In Dalton?”
Doc shook her head. “I don’t think so. He’s been calling in to see how you’re doing, and says he feels normal.” She patted my arm. “I’m going to let Jean Luc and Misha back in before they trigger a riot in the hall. Don’t tax your throat. I’m going to give them five minutes to gush, and then out they go.”
Sabrina opened the door, and the two of them practically fell through the doorway. They crowded around the bed, each taking one of my hands.
“Little one.”
“Ma petite.”
They both spoke at the same time, which made me smile.
“We’re so happy to see you awake.” Misha spoke, his voice rough.
“Oui. It is about time you woke up, Kyle. It has been very quiet without you.”
“I love you guys,” I whispered.
Jean Luc squeezed my hand and smiled at me.
Misha cleared his throat and blinked a couple of times, but he couldn’t stop a tear from escaping. “We love you, too.”
Chapter 45
“What aren’t you telling me, Sabrina?”
“What do you mean?”
I glared at her across the hospital room. “Everyone is walking on eggshells around me.”
“You were in a coma, Kyle.”
“It’s more than that.”
“Can’t we table this discussion until you’re stronger?”
I crossed my arms over my chest. The gesture was probably not very intimidating since I was propped up in a hospital bed, but you have to work with what you’ve got.
Doc sighed. “When the demon struck you with the energy blast, it hit your head. You have a scar now.”
“Is it big?”
“No.”
“Please tell me it’s not in the shape of a lightning bolt. I won’t be able to handle listening to Harry Potter jokes for the rest of my life.”
Doc chuckled. “No. You’re safe.”
“Then why has everyone looked a little freaked out when they see me for the first time?”
Doc bit her lip before responding. “It’s your eyes. They’ve changed color.”
I gulped. “What? Let me see.”
Doc pulled a small mirror out of a drawer in the bureau and gave it to me.
The eyes that widened as I stared at myself were blue. They still had hints of my original gray, but they were predominantly blue. On my right temple was a small scar running back into my hairline.
“Do you think the blue is from the demon blast?”
Doc shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
“Sabrina.”
“You almost died, Kyle. I tried everything. I shocked you and pumped you full of adrenaline.”
“Like John Travolta did to Uma Thurman in Pulp Fiction?”
Doc huffed. “Misha has not been a good influence on you. Yes, like Pulp Fiction, except you didn’t wake up like Uma did.” She looked away from me. “I was about to call time of death, but Dalton argued with me. He told me you weren’t dead yet, and he laid his hands on either side of your face. I was reaching to pull him away when he started to glow. Then you started to glow.”
Goosebumps shot down my arms. “He still had the power from the Key.”
“Or maybe you absorbed some of his angel essence. I wouldn’t swear to it, but his eyes don’t seem as vibrant anymore.”
I sat up straight. “But he’s all right now? You told me he’s okay.”
Doc waved at me with a settle-down gesture. “He’s fine. He was very weak afterward, and I put him on bed rest for a day, but then he got a summons from Chicago. We’ve had a lot to cover up.”
“I bet. How did he know what to do?”
Sabrina shrugged. “He said afterwa
rd that he heard a voice in his head telling him to touch you. Since he’d helped you before when you seized, he didn’t think he had anything to lose by trying it.”
I dropped my head back on the pillow. “Wow.”
Doc frowned. “I knew it was too early to have this discussion.”
“I’m fine, Sabrina. Just trying to take it all in.”
“Well, take your time. It happened days ago, and I still haven’t taken it all in yet.”
* * *
“I want to take her outside!” Misha said.
“It would be better for me to do this, Misha,” Jean Luc argued. “I have a medical background.”
“I think I know what Kyle needs. She is named after me.”
I clapped my hands like a kindergarten teacher calling the class to order. “Guys, enough! I’m fine. I’m not going to relapse. Would someone please take me outside so I can breathe fresh air and see the sun?”
“Are you sure, Kyle?” Jean Luc asked for the gazillionth time.
I clamped my hands on the wheelchair’s arms and started to push myself up. “I’m going out by myself, then.”
Misha grabbed my shoulders and eased me back into the chair. “Just because you’ve been taking short walks in the hall doesn’t mean you’ve built up the strength to walk all the way to the garden and back.”
They finally compromised by having Misha push me outside onto the terrace while Jean Luc walked beside me, patting my shoulder every once in a while. It was one of those rare, warm, spring days, and I studied the brilliant blue sky and fat, fluffy clouds and sucked in a lungful of air that smelled like new beginnings. The grass was the emerald green that lasts for only a few weeks in the early spring.
Misha rolled the wheelchair over to a concrete bench, and he and Jean Luc sat next to me. “Is this okay?”
“Yes. It’s great. Thanks.”
The three of us sat in silence for a while, and I closed my eyes and tilted my face up to bask in the sunshine.
“Here,” Misha said, handing me a pair of sunglasses.
“I’m fine.”
“Humor me, please.”
I put the sunglasses on and tilted my face up again. After a few seconds, a shadow blocked my face. I opened my eyes. Dalton looked down at me. His black eye had faded to a pale yellow, and he was smiling.
“I’m glad to see you’re out of bed, McKinley.”
“I’m glad to be out of bed.”
I motioned to the bench. “Join us.”
Misha stood. “Here. Take my seat. We have to go check on something. Don’t let her get out of that chair. She’ll try to do cartwheels if we don’t keep an eye on her.”
Misha nodded, Jean Luc bowed slightly to both of us, and they walked into the building, closing the terrace doors.
Dalton sat so I didn’t have to strain my neck looking up at him.
“I didn’t mean to run them off.”
“You didn’t. They know we need to talk… Doc told me what happened. Thanks for saving me. How is your arm?”
He stared at me for a moment as if choosing his words carefully. “My arm is fine. I should be thanking you. You were willing to sacrifice yourself for me, for all of us. I’m only glad I could help. How are you feeling?”
“Better. Tired. Which is ironic, since all I’ve done is sleep for days.” I took a deep breath to calm my jitters before I pulled off my sunglasses. “I think I owe you for these as well.”
His gaze locked on my face, and his turquoise eyes widened. “Oh, my God.”
“Not too shabby a color. A bluish gray. Jean Luc told me they’re the color of a stormy sea, but he’s a romantic at heart.”
“How?”
“Doc thinks it’s because you shared your energy with me.”
Was it my imagination, or was Doc right and his eyes weren’t as blue anymore? They were certainly still gorgeous. And then I reminded myself to stop with the stalling and say what needed to be said. “I want you to know how sorry I am.”
“McKinley—”
“No. Hear me out. I’ve been lying around in a hospital bed for days with nothing but time on my hands, time to think. I’m sorry for lying to you. For making you feel like I was trying to control your life.”
“Jean Luc explained to me why you didn’t tell me the truth when I first arrived. Logically, I get it. Emotionally, it still pisses me off. You took away my memories. For a good reason, but it feels like you’ve stolen something from me, and I’m having a hard time getting over it.”
“I get that,” I said. “If I’d been able to come up with any other way to save you, I would have. But we were out of time, and I refused to let that bastard Sebastian destroy you. So I did what I thought was best. If you’d been in any shape to weigh in on the decision, I would have listened to your wishes. But you couldn’t.”
“I need to know what you erased. But I think that’s a discussion for when you’re stronger.”
I started to protest, and he placed his hand on my arm. “It can wait, McKinley. I’m going back to D.C. today for another case, anyway. When I’ve finished that, I’ll contact you so we can talk.”
“How did it go with the Feds and our case?”
“Good. They bought the story. They’ve offered me a full-time job.”
“That’s great.” Liar, liar.
He smiled at me, again. “Can you stay out of trouble until I’m able to get back here?”
His hand felt like a hot brand on my arm. “I’ll give it my best shot.”
Chapter 46
“I hear you’re going home today.”
The voice brightened my day even before I looked up into Griffin’s face. “Hey, you.”
“Hello, sweet. How are you feeling?”
“I’m good, Griffin. Glad to be going home.”
“You gave us all a scare.”
“So I’ve been told. Thanks for coming and spending time with me.”
He cocked an eyebrow at me.
“I could hear you talking to me. And Trina, too.”
He smiled. “That doesn’t surprise me. I understand you saved the day again.”
“Yep. And I’m pretty sure the Key has gone bye-bye.”
“Thank God. How is Dalton doing with all this?”
I shrugged. “He knows I erased his memory, but I haven’t had a chance to explain everything to him yet. I’m not sure he’ll ever be able to forgive me.”
“Give him time, Kyle.”
After everything, how could he be concerned about Dalton? I swallowed. “Can you forgive me?”
Griffin gripped my hand. “There’s nothing to forgive, Kyle. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
Tears threatened to erupt, and I blinked. “You’re a wonderful person, Seamus Griffin. Now tell me how you’re doing.”
“I’m doing better, especially now that I know you’re okay.”
* * *
It was official. In a few minutes, Misha would pick me up and take me home. No more hospital. But before I left, I wanted to spend a few minutes in Irina’s garden, so when Doc told me I had one last visitor waiting on the terrace, I figured it was kismet.
I walked outside, and there was Nicholas, sitting at the small iron table on the stone terrace holding a bouquet of purple roses wrapped in cellophane. I stared at him for a moment. Something was different about him. His hair was a bit messy. I’d never seen him with a hair out of place before.
I joined him at the table. “I hoped you’d stop by.”
“It’s good to see you up and about, Kyle.” His gaze tightened on me. “Sabrina told me about your eye color, but it still’s a bit surprising.”
“Is it a side effect of the energy Dalton shared with me?”
“How would I know?”
“Because you’re the one who told Dalton to touch me when I was dying.”
He looked at me but didn’t respond. For me, his silence was confirmation enough.
“I want to thank you.”
He shook his head. �
�Kyle—”
“Let me finish. Thanks for your visit to the ice cream parlor.”
His eyebrows rose. “You weren’t supposed to remember the parlor.”
I shrugged. “I have a tendency to go against the norm.”
Nicholas chuckled. “Tell me something I don’t already know. How are you feeling?”
“The old, cynical Kyle would wonder if you are really asking if the Key is okay.”
“I do wish I’d known about the Key earlier. But I never sensed it in you.”
“Yeah, well. I couldn’t exactly trust you with the truth then.”
“And now?”
“Now you’ve moved up a notch or two on my trust scale.” I stopped. “Wait. If you didn’t know that I had the Key in me, then how did you know Dalton’s touch would help me?”
“Lucky guess.”
“It’s like talking to the CIA with you.”
His eyes smiled. “I can neither confirm nor deny that statement.”
“Well, how about this statement? I no longer have the Key.”
He paused before answering. “It could be that the Key served its purpose for right now and has been put away for the next rainy, apocalyptic day.”
“Wow, I didn’t realize how sarcastic you could be.”
He smirked. “You’re usually way ahead of me in that department.”
I smiled back at him. “Now you’re just sucking up.” I stared across the garden for a moment, at the flowers peeking out of the ground, then refocused on his face. “I’m going to ask you something else, and I want you to tell me the truth.”
His eyes narrowed. “That sounds ominous.”
“How much trouble are you in?”
“What do you mean?”
“Let’s see. Father Brown has been struggling for months to translate the prophecy and suddenly it miraculously started to come to him.”
“You’ve always been too smart for your own good. I might have called in an angel favor on that one.”
“I think that kind of thing is your normal, sneaky MO. So that wouldn’t have caused you strife. Then there was the whole Dalton saving me thing, which you cannot of course confirm or deny. And finally—the big oh-no-he-didn’t—you sneaked into the ice cream parlor and told me to fight. Haven’t you been saying all along that you were only allowed so much leeway before you were reprimanded again?”
