by Mayburn, Ann
Raum released her hand and stroked her cheek. “Now, try to access a simple memory. What is Wright’s favorite food?”
The book opened and supplied the answer before closing again. Her voice came out higher than usual and she started at hearing herself speak with a British accent. “Sunday roast with Yorkshire pudding and his wife’s mushroom gravy.”
Gregor’s grip on her tightened. “What did she just say?”
Pyriel began to trace a pattern on the ground. A vibration rumbled through the earth as a portal in the earth opened. “Princess, I will try to reach you in your dreams. Having Raum or any of the other men attempt to contact you is too risky. There will be those that notice your absence in Hell and I’m sure Belal will be trying to find you as well.” She stood and smoothed her dress over her hips. “We have to go, now. Say your good-byes, gentlemen.”
At once Raum, Gregor, and Kirin all embraced her and she clung to them, terrified of facing the task ahead without them at her side. Surrounded by their warmth, she tried to absorb the momentary peace and love filling her, wanting to remember the feeling forever. A sense of foreboding traced through her veins like ice but she tried to ignore it, instead drawing in a deep breath of their combined scents.
Galina’s voice snapped with the bite of a whip. “We have to go. Now.”
Kirin had to pull Gregor from her and her breath hitched at the agony flowing through their bond. “Gregor, go.” She gave Raum a fierce look, trying to mask her fear. “Protect him for me.”
Raum nodded, his voice rising above Gregor’s protests. “I swear it.” He grabbed Gregor by his collar as Kirin held his arms. “And even I don’t want to spend the next thousand years in a torture dimension for breaking my oath in Hell.”
A small weight lifted off her shoulders and she blew them a kiss as Kirin and Raum dragged a struggling Gregor into the mist that Galina and Pyriel had already disappeared into. A moment later, the first rays of dawn broke over the horizon and the portal vanished.
The enormity of her situation sank in as she met Tanth’s glowing aqua gaze. He held out his hand and she grasped it with her own, peace settling over her soul. It surprised her that her demonic essence didn’t fight him. Instead it seemed to purr beneath his touch.
He gave her an amused smile. “That’s because angelic and demonic are two sides of the same coin, and that’s especially true with love and lust. You’re also still more human than demon, and the human half of your soul is essentially good, not evil.” She gaped at him and he squeezed her hand. “No, I didn’t read your mind, Princess. You’re still wearing your communication ring.”
She flushed and quickly removed it, tucking it into her bodice before grasping his hand again. Pink and gold shimmered against the edges of the clouds as the sky grew brighter. “How do we get to London?”
He tightened his grip on her hand. “We fly.”
Chapter Nine
London, England
1874
The rough grit of cold bricks bit into her palms as she emptied the contents of her stomach in a stinking alley on the backstreets of London. Her abdomen cramped and she groaned as the sweat covering her face chilled in the early morning air. Hidden from view of the main road by the backside of a warehouse, Natalia staggered to the other side of the alley and tried to glare at Tanth.
“I am sorry,” he said, again with a trace of amusement in his voice. “I didn’t think you would react so poorly to flying.”
Just the memory of the land receding beneath them as Tanth launched them into the sky made her belly cramp in protest. “We’re here. Now what?”
The feathers of his wings rustled as he extended and retracted them with a snap. “You need to find Wright. Eliza—that is—you, has been missing for over a day now, and Wright is getting rather worried about her.” He looked over his shoulder and stepped closer. “You need an explanation as to why you’ve been gone. One that won’t get you thrown out of his house.”
She nodded and attempted to move past him, disconcerted by his closeness. Something about the way he stood, the tension filling his body, set off alarm bells. She accessed Eliza’s memories and found the information she needed. “I’ll tell him my mother was ill and I had to go visit her in Westminster.”
“That—”
Before he could finish his thought a woman’s voice filled the alley, chiming like the most beautiful of bells. “I’m afraid there’s been a change of plans.”
Tanth spun in a blur of white and blue feathers, his body blocking Natalia’s view of whoever was now in the alley with them.
“Helena. Fancy meeting you here. I didn’t know you slummed on mortal Earth.”
The woman’s laughter, beautiful yet ugly, hurt Natalia’s ears. “I don’t want to hurt you, Tanth, but I will. Christopher Wright must not succeed with his experiments!”
Power blasted over Natalia in a freezing wave and she slumped against the wall. Tanth collapsed in front of her, revealing the form of another angel. Her eyes watered as she struggled to see past the glare of light that surrounded the woman. With a disgusted sound, Helena stepped over the crumpled form of Tanth and closed in on Natalia.
The light became so bright it burned, and Natalia tried to make a run for it, only to be gripped by her hair and slung to the ground. She landed in a heap on top of Tanth. A searing pain arched across her back and she shrieked in agony. Beneath her, Tanth stirred and his wing became tangled in her skirts. Natalia frantically attempted to crawl away, the tips of her nails breaking off as she tried to find purchase on the stones of the alley floor.
Tanth’s roar of rage shook the walls, and Natalia’s breath came out in harsh blasts, mixing with the sounds of shouts from the street. The muscles of her back spasmed and she tried to use her legs to push herself along, unconcerned about the refuse she was crawling through, only wanting to get away from the increasingly powerful blasts of energy from the alley behind her.
All of a sudden, the sound of fighting vanished and the air around her shuddered. A moment later a man with a rough voice yelled from the entrance of the alley.
“Hey, are you all right? Miss? Miss?”
It took all of her effort to lift her head. Her numb lips seemed incapable of forming any words, and her back burned as if it were on fire. A man with mutton-chop sideburns knelt at her side, his mouth moving and forming words she couldn’t hear beyond the ringing in her ears. Spots danced on the edges of her vision, and when he tried to move her, the world went dark.
***
Natalia’s mouth seemed stuffed with cotton, her throat parched and dry, as she tried to swallow. An unfamiliar, harsh odor filled her nose as she took a breath. Her lungs felt oddly constrained. Her head ached, her back burned, and she wished with all her heart she had a glass of water to drink.
A warm hand patted her cheek and she groaned as the ache in her skull deepened. An unfamiliar man’s voice said, “Eliza, time to wake up.”
She tried to say that her name was Natalia, but her words came out in a little more than a garbled moan.
“Shhhh, don’t try to talk yet. You’re at St. Mary’s.” His voice hardened with a note of anger. “You were attacked not two blocks from the hospital. Thank God a passing merchant heard your screams. Whoever it was ran before they found you.”
She opened her eyes as little as possible, wincing at the light of a candle that seemed as bright as the sun. A portly man with graying dark hair and deep blue eyes sat next to her bed. When he saw her looking at him, a bright smile lit his face, revealing crooked teeth.
“There we are. How are you feeling?”
Closing her eyes, she summoned all her strength to say one word. “Water.” It surprised her that she spoke English with an unfamiliar accent, but that concern took second place behind the never-ending waves of pain. “Hurt.”
He made a soothing noise and moved her enough so she could sip at a glass of blessedly cool water. After only a few drinks, he took the glass away and she tried to pro
test.
“Hush. You need to rest.”
Her mind spun as two sets of memories swirled in her head. In one, she was a woman named Eliza, a research assistant and lover to the man sitting next to her. His name was Christopher. The other set of memories was fantastical, filled with images of monsters and demons, angels, and places of such beauty that her heart ached. As odd as it was, it seemed like those were her true memories while the mental images of her time spent with Christopher were similar to reading a book. She knew the story, but she didn’t have any emotions to go with it.
She groaned and turned onto her side, unable to lie on her back any longer due to the stiff bandages and wounds there. Gentle fingers probed at her flesh, and Christopher made a harsh grunt.
“Damnedest thing.”
The pressure on her chest eased as he peeled away the bandages covering her upper chest and shoulder. She hissed in pain as he probed her shoulder wound. “The wounds on your hands are healing rapidly, but the one on your shoulder keeps refusing to stay shut.”
Since he didn’t seem to be talking to her, rather at her, she remained silent. Aside from the pain, her body felt and looked so different. The long braid of hair on the pillow next to her wasn’t coal black, but rather a light brown threaded with hints of blond. She gripped her hands together as another wave of nausea moved through her and unfamiliar rings bit into her fingers. A quick flash of memory showed the rings were presents from Christopher and that she, or rather Eliza, delighted in always wearing them around the other household servants, though she took them off around Christopher’s wife. Mrs. Wright was more than happy to ignore her husband’s lab assistant as long as Eliza did nothing to call attention to herself.
He placed a kiss on her temple and patted her hip in a familiar manner. “A few more days and you’ll be right as rain. Now let me give you something for the pain so you can sleep comfortably and heal.”
She followed his movements with her eyes, her skull aching too much to even think of lifting her head. He lit another lantern and more of the room was revealed. No windows. There were only four white-painted walls and the bed along with a small table and chair. Eliza’s memory supplied the information that she was in one of the private rooms in the hospital, and she felt a brief surge of love for Christopher that he had cared enough to spend the money to make sure she wouldn’t be disturbed.
No, she didn’t love Christopher. Eliza loved Christopher. She was Natalia and her heart belonged to a magnificent trio of men in Hell. The belief of Eliza tried to surge to the forefront again, crowding her thoughts with a train of memories that did not belong to her. She took in a harsh breath and closed her eyes, trying to summon her demonic essence to help her cope with the unexpected strain.
When she’d trained with Galina on how to absorb memories, she’d only taken on a small portion of Galina’s life, just the single memory of eating a meal with a group of nuns. At the time she’d been delighted, exploring the memory and savoring the novel glimpse into a world and mind she’d never known. Gregor had been with her as well and his presence had helped ground her, remind her of herself.
Now, without Gregor, she floundered against becoming lost in another woman’s life. The dark part of her soul moved sluggishly as she tried to awaken it, the faintest bit of strength giving her enough of an edge to mentally shut the box on Eliza. She tried to coax her demonic essence fully awake but it wanted to sleep, to heal. She had no sexual energy to tempt it with, no willing concubine to feed it, no clean lust to lure it awake.
Her inner battle was interrupted by the sensation of her dressing gown being slid up her arm. She opened her eyes and watched in confusion as a rubber tube was tied around her arm. The exposed skin of her inner elbow was oddly scarred, and she whispered, “What are you doing?”
He made a shushing sound and held a syringe to the light, filling it from a vial, then tapping it with his finger. “Just a shot to take away the pain.”
She frowned at him, then looked over at the bottle on the table. It took her mind a moment to translate the unfamiliar handwritten letters on the container but when she did she tried to jerk her arm away from him. “No!” she screamed out in a broken voice.
Too late. Before the word even left her mouth the silver tip of the needle pricked her vein and began to fill her bloodstream with morphine.
She watched in horrified fascination as the plunger emptied and Christopher untied the rubber tubing. Almost immediately her rapidly beating heart pushed the morphine through her bloodstream, spreading indescribable pleasure through her unwilling veins, filling her body with a bliss that seemed to melt her bones. The pain, the terrible pain, receded until she was left only with the feeling of floating in bliss, her entire body filled with what had to be the most exquisite sensation known to man.
Setting the empty syringe aside, he pulled the covers back up over her and trailed a fond finger down her cheek. She knew beneath the long sleeves of his jacket he bore similar puncture wounds, for he used morphine to treat the pain from his arthritis. The chemicals flooded her brain and she sighed, closing her eyes. Exhaustion claimed her even as she fought sleep, wanting to stay awake so she could revel in this feeling, this delight.
***
Her dreams were a confused blur, and she had no idea how long she slept, but she knew a good deal of time had passed. Wheels rattled next to her bed and she forced her eyes to open, trying to blink away the film that seemed to cloud her vision. All of the gas lanterns along the walls were lit, but the additional illumination didn’t lend any warmth to the room. Rather, it seemed to highlight how impersonal a space it was, just bare walls and medical equipment.
She attempted to sit up but her shoulder ached and her head reeled so she gave up and slumped back into the pillow that smelled faintly of her sweat. Movement from the corner of her eye startled her, and she sucked in her breath between her teeth as she forced herself to sit up. The room spun but a strong hand cupped her cheek.
An elderly female said, “Easy now. You’ve been asleep for almost two days. You need to eat.”
The woman turned before Natalia could get a good look at her and the long black veil she wore obscured her back. She bustled about with the rolling cart she had apparently brought with her. Eliza’s memories helpfully supplied the woman must be one of the volunteer nuns that worked at St. Mary’s hospital, doing the menial jobs of feeding and caring for the sick and dying. At least Eliza thought of it as being demeaning work. Natalia, on the other hand, thought it took a great deal of strength to endure the constant suffering of others.
Speaking of suffering, she wished right now she were in Hell so she could bury herself in Gregor’s arms and try to lose herself in him. The demonic part of her soul was strangely subdued, barely acknowledging her attempts to rouse it. The constant headache that battered at her mind continued to throb, and she rubbed at her temple with her good hand. For one brief instant, she wished for another shot of morphine to make the pain go away, but she quickly pushed that notion from her mind. Still, she now had a better understanding of why people took opium. If it felt anything like morphine, it was the closest thing to ecstasy in a bottle she’d ever experienced.
The nun turned around and placed an elevated tray on Natalia’s lap. The scent of the porridge made Natalia’s stomach growl. “Thank you.” Her voice came out in a rusty croak and she took a sip from the glass of water on her tray.
As soon as the first drops went past her lips, her mouth filled with fire. The nun slapped a surprisingly strong hand over her mouth and Natalia’s scream became muffled behind it. She looked up as she struggled against the burning water and almost choked as she recognized the nun.
It was the old woman she’d helped on the street back in her hometown in Russia.
The nun pinched her nose and forced Natalia to swallow or choke. As she did she tried to fight the old woman off, but she might as well have been a babe trying to push off an adult. Her demonic essence hissed within her soul but did
n’t offer her any magic or strength. After she’d swallowed the last drop, the old woman removed her hand as if nothing were amiss and cleaned the rest of the water from where it had spilled on the tray.
“Be calm, Princess. It wasn’t poison.”
She gaped at the old woman and rubbed her stomach with her free hand. “Who are you? What are you?”
The nun smiled and busied herself with wiping the spilled water from the floor. “Merely a lowly servant of God. What you should be asking is what was in the glass.”
Lips numb, Natalia echoed her. “What was in the glass?”
“Holy water to wash the poison from Helena’s blade from your system. Thank the Saints you were human enough that the blade did not kill you instantly.” The nun shook her head, the deep wrinkles on her parchment-fine skin creating hills and shadows on her face. “It is a sad day in Heaven when Diligence and Love conspire against each other.”
Natalia set her shaking hands on the tray. “I don’t understand. Where are my men? Why aren’t they here? Where is Tanth? Why did Helena attack me?”
The nun clucked her tongue and gestured toward the porridge. “We don’t have much time. You eat, and I’ll talk.” When Natalia gave the bowl a distrustful look the old woman smiled. “There is nothing in there but oats, milk, and water. As for the rest….” She sighed and continued to straighten the room as she talked. “Just as Hell is in a power struggle, so is Heaven. But that isn’t important.”
Natalia grunted around a mouthful of food, her empty stomach clamoring for her to eat faster. “What about Tanth? Is he all right?”