by Kim Faulks
“You named her.”
I wrenched my gaze to hers and slowly nodded. “It doesn’t…it doesn’t mean anything. It’s just a name, just…”
“You…named my daughter.”
Her words cut with a razored edge. I shook my head. It meant nothing…nothing.
She moved quietly, stepping closer, grabbing my boy under his arms and lifting him free. The nipple slipped from his mouth, milk splattered his lip and nose.
He let out a cry before she grasped the bottle and pressed the teat to his lips. He took the plastic, opening his mouth and drawing deep without so much as a hitch.
My arms were cold. My chest empty, as she stepped away and took him with her.
“So what?” The IV drips pulled taut as I leaned forward. “What do we do now? Where do we go from here?”
She never looked up, only gave me her back and answered. “Zadoc and I will find our daughter. Anything else is none of your concern. Goodbye, Angel. I hope I never see you again.”
10
Michael
“Goodbye Angel. I hope I never see you again.”
Those bitter words found me as I stood outside the hospital room.
Joslyn strode through the doorway clutching the feeding baby close. Brown, tired eyes widened as she saw me. Her steps faltered, and then she was gone, striding fast along the corridor, leaving devastation in her wake.
The faint beep of machines filled the air, until a small tortured sound ripped free. I stood there, feeling an inch tall, and listened to her smother those sounds until they were barely more than a stuttered breath.
Then, I entered her room, one slow step at a time. She never looked up, never even heard me. She looked so feeble hunched over like that, gripping the steel rails…so utterly…human. The railing rattled as she shuddered. I licked my lips and softly cleared my throat.
She stilled, then flicked away her tears and raised her head. My Dragon inhaled, drawing in her feeble scent and the sudden rush filled my ears. “It’s cleaner than the last prison, still damn cold though.”
“You’d think I’d be used to it, wouldn’t you?” she muttered. “Look at me.”
I turned my head, finding those deep brown eyes.
“I know you.” She tightened her grip and pulled herself forward. “You carried me.”
My lips curled…carried her. It figured that was all she remembered. I nodded my head. “My name’s Michael.”
“I guess you heard all that.”
There was strength in those words. I wouldn’t tarnish our time with a lie. “I heard. She’s hurting.”
“We’re all hurting.” She dropped her gaze and stared at her hand. “Seeing as though you’re here, tell me what happened.” She raised her head. “Leave nothing out.”
A nerve twitched near the corner of my eye. “You don’t want to hear about that. You should—”
“Michael, please.”
The way she said my name stilled the man in me, but the Saint…trembled. I wanted to spare her the darkness and horror of that night, but the longer I looked at her the more I realized I was wrong.
Helplessness resounded in those sharp brown eyes.
She was still trapped in there with the dark and the dirt and the bodies, desperate to survive.
“There was a wolf still alive when we got to the cabin. We smelled him before we saw him. He reeked of piss and fear.”
She was mesmerized by my words and the kind of memory that haunts a person. Her lips parted as she sucked in a slow breath. She gave a nod, urging me to unshackle her chains.
“His spine was twisted and broken. By the looks of the remains around him, I’d say he’d been there a day, maybe more. It looked like he tried to claw away at some point…but didn’t get far. There was relief in his eyes when he saw us—not the kind when you knew you’d been saved—but the kind when you knew your fight was over. X did her best to get him to talk, but there was nothing left he could give us, and when we found the cabin, X gave him the peace he longed for.”
“Was he…was he the only one alive?”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “Apart from you, the baby, and the Vampire, yes.”
“Gabriel,” she murmured and stared at the wall. “He tried to help me.”
“When we entered the cabin we couldn’t find you, not at first. The damn Vamp had you trapped underneath him. Goddamn miracle we found you at all.”
“He protected me, shielded me with his body when they…when they attacked.”
Something rose inside me, a feeling all twisted and bent. The thought of her underneath him, bleeding, vulnerable…
“They said I died…did you know that?”
I sucked in a slow and steady breath. Careful now…the Saint warned, but it wasn’t a caution to her…only me. “Yes. You died in my arms. I tried to get you to your kind, so they could help you.”
“My kind,” she repeated, and then met my gaze. “So then tell me, Dragon. If I died in yours arms, how the hell did my kind bring me back?”
The savage growl that resounded in my mind reached the edges. My Dragon raised his head to stare at me. His lips trembled and curled from glistening teeth. “I’d say it was a miracle.”
One perfect brow lifted. “A miracle?”
She seemed to like repeating my words, just to mock my lies, but she was nothing more than flesh and blood all tethered with a fragile string.
And it was that string I protected. It was that string I saved.
The laws of mortals were simple; they were here one minute, and gone the next.
But I couldn’t let her go—not then…and not now.
And if I couldn’t bend Heaven, then I’d raise Hell.
I cleared my throat and answered. “Modern medicine is marvelous nowadays…so I’ve heard.”
Her other brow rose. “You’re lying.” Her hand slipped from the railing. She eased back against the elevated top of the bed and finished. “But right now I just don’t care. This isn’t over, Dragon, only a damn reprieve.”
Pain tightened the muscles of her jaw and dulled the spark in her eyes. “The next time I see you I want an answer. The truth would be nice.”
She closed her eyes and murmured, “The truth.”
Her breaths slowed and then deepened into sleep, and yet I couldn’t bring myself to leave…not yet. I dropped my hands and took a step forward, pulled by something far greater than myself.
“Doc.” The soft word slipped from my lips and echoed in the room.
She gave a soft murmur and stole a breath.
I reached out and skimmed the steel railing, finding the patch of warmth where her hand had been. A tremor raced, shaking my fingers as I reached for her cheek. “Can you hear me?”
There was nothing but the hiss of air between her lips as I touched her hair. Strands fell through my fingers like grains of sand. Caustic words slipped free. “She warned me you know, the seer, Odessa. If I hadn’t gone that night…if I hadn’t taken you from that place, you’d be gone, and not even the Saint could bring you back. You wanted the truth.”
I grazed her warm cheek with my knuckles. “The truth is…the truth is I…I’m glad you're alive, Doc. I’m glad you’re alive.”
I dropped my hand from her face as I straightened. I couldn’t say the words, not to her, not even to me. “I’ll be seeing you, Doc. Maybe we’ll both get our truth.”
I left her with the monitors and the lights.
I left her when the last thing I wanted was to turn away.
But her truth would wait…just like I’d waited for over three thousand years for someone exactly like her.
This white stone Goliath wasn’t our home, not anymore. I stepped through the doorway and into the hall, lifting my feet over the tangled extension cords that cut through the belly of our house.
Radio chatter filled the air, but it wasn’t just one channel they listened to—it was all of them.
Our house had become more than a haven for the weak and in need
—it was a command post. A central hub to listen, to watch…to do anything but suffer in silence, or alone.
“Don’t touch that,” Irwin growled, not lifting his eyes from the map that clutched the edges of our mammoth table from one side to the other.
Little Shelly neared the far side of the table; fat fingers crept over the edge and snuck toward one of the phones lined up in a neat row.
“Someone come and get this kid.” He trailed his finger along a road. “Now.”
“Her name is Shelly,” Xael snapped. “You could at least get to know our names.”
The Marine splayed his hands on top of the map and rose from the chair. He never flinched—poor, naive sonofabitch—and stared into my sister’s eyes. “Would you like me to take the time to learn all of your names, or the eighty-nine direct routes from the cabin to everywhere else in this state? Or perhaps the sixty-three park rangers’ call signs, or the many different scripts I’ve got running to scan keywords and phrases on all social media? Or maybe the facial recognition software I’ve got processing the three thousand and twenty-seven cameras across gas stations, traffic lights, truck stops and some of the highway-patrol cars we’re tapped into? Now, I appreciate this is unusual for you, and the fact that my taking over your home is not ideal. But I’m trying to do a job here, Ma’am. All I’m asking is that you let me do that job.”
I’d never seen Xael dressed down in such a polite and yet forceful way.
The room stilled. Even the clock forgot to tick, as though time itself took to cover. The four computer screens flicked through thousands of images, two pinpointing facial recognition, and the other two tracking vehicles and heat across the segmented satellite maps filled with green.
The Marine was tired…hell we all were. He’d been working around the clock to bring our Dragon home.
And amongst the stilled wolves and Dragons, a small mortal slipped through. Joslyn moved like death itself, clutching her son and weaving through the mountains of flesh and bone with barely more than a sound.
“Ma’am,” Irwin acknowledged and snapped to attention. His battle-weary face softened as she raised her gaze to meet his. “I just wanted you to know, Ma’am, that we’re bringing your daughter home. I know you don’t know me, or my team. But we do not stop, and we do not rest…not until the battle is won.”
She glanced around the room stopping when she met my gaze. There was a flash of anger before she turned to the soldier. “It’s been three days. Why haven’t you found her?”
There was a twitch at the corner of his eye, but he remained rock steady. “I can’t say Ma’am. All I know is that we’re tracking every perceivable direction that we can.”
“It’s not enough,” she growled and flicked those dull eyes around the room. “It’s not anywhere near enough. She’s out there…my baby is out there, and you’re here.”
“Joslyn.” Marcus strode past me. “I promise you we’re doing everything we can.”
“What are you doing, Marcus? Tell me, what exactly are you doing?”
The Alpha of the Bloodstone slipped past without a sound. Red curls bounced as she flicked a careful gaze my way and kept on moving. “We have four packs of our best hunters scattered to the four corners. They left not long after we found out the littles ones were missing. They're searching every pack, all the way to the border. If they’re moving with the wolves, we’ll know.”
“I know it’s hard to wait.” Marcus lifted his hand to the baby in her arms. He brushed the little one’s paw. “But we’re doing everything in our power. We will find her. We will bring her back to you.”
Joslyn turned to stare at the monitors. “They could be long gone, in another state, in another country. Three days they’ve been running. Three days.”
Marcus shot a gaze to Irwin and the Marine gave a nod.
“No, we don’t think that’s the case at all. We believe they're close, close enough for us to remain here.”
Joslyn snapped her gaze to my brother. “How do you know that?”
He glanced to the map across the table and the energy around him changed. If there was ever a softer side to my brother, it fell away with his growl. “Because they’re not out there. They’re not anywhere. We’ve met with the Vampires and the panthers, we’ve held council with the lions, the bears, and even the humans. We’ve traveled as far as Hell’s Gate to see the Hellhounds. No one has them. No one has given the Huntress shelter.”
Joslyn’s pale skin turned ashen, her words turned fragile. “Then she’s taken my baby back to Hell.”
“That’s one option,” Marcus answered. “The other is she’s gone to ground. She’s hiding in the bunkers just like the ones Evander, Gunny, and the rest of her team located.”
“I should’ve known,” Joslyn whispered. Her shoulders sagged, a brutal sob slipped free. “I should have known.”
I found him as her words hit me. My stoic brother, cold as stone as he answered, “You didn’t know.”
The whites from her eyes were mapped with red as she screamed. “Yes, I did! I did this…I let her take my child. I let her take my baby. It’s my fault…”
Her knees buckled, she fell toward the floor. Marcus moved fast, snatching her before she hit. She was so tiny in his arms, nothing more than a babe herself.
“Let me go!” Spittle hit his face with her cry.
He eased her feet to the ground and then let her topple until she found a hold.
The words poured out of her mouth like a ruptured vein filled with loss and hate. “I knew it was too easy…I should’ve run. I should’ve taken my babies and run…alone. She might’ve had a chance if I did.”
She stopped, took a breath and then in the blink of an eye she changed. Gone was the woman, gone was the mortal. Her face turned slack, pupils nothing more than tiny pinpoints as she finished. “Now she never will, and it’s all because of you.”
“Joslyn,” Abrial called, but it was all too late.
The ghost of this young mother turned her back on all of us and walked away.
“No amount of blood will ever be enough, will it?” The snarl tore free from my lips as I stepped forward. “Not for you.”
Everyone turned and stared, everyone except him.
“Now’s not the time, Michael,” Marcus warned.
I wanted to push him. I wanted to scream in his face that right now, right here was the perfect fucking time. The letter burned in my pocket. It wore through the cloth to rub my heart. I needed answers. I needed the fucking truth.
“Please,” Marcus whispered.
My top lip curled as I glanced to the others. Irwin stared, meeting my gaze. He gave me a nod, this fragile human with his maps and mayhem and I answered in kind.
The need for answers was a fist around my throat. I scanned the others catching a glimpse of Joslyn as she headed down the hall.
She was still trapped in the dark and the horror. She was still trapped in Hell, only this one was guilt. The doc reared in my mind, these women carried the weight of injustice…and the burden of our lies.
My brother knew.
The letter I held proved it.
Marcus knew what was coming and yet he did nothing, not while Odessa suffered, not while Victor left, and not while Zadoc was tortured by this foul, infernal bitch.
If he only knew…
This would destroy him. It would break the last bond he had.
Could I do that? Could I stand by and watch this all fall apart?
All in the name of truth?
11
Doc Angel
Wet lashes stuck together as I opened my eyes. The monitor beeped next to the bed with a perfect sinus rhythm. I stared at the screen, watching every bump and every fall while slick tears fell.
There was no need to be afraid, no need to weep. I was alive and safe.
Hell was long gone.
And for a second I didn’t understand why my heart felt so heavy and why my tears caught the well-worn track down my cheek until Joslyn’
s words came to life.
Goodbye Angel. I hope I never see you again.
A trolley rattled somewhere out in the brightly lit hall, and the faint smell of food followed with a kick to my stomach. But it was that machine that called me back. That lying piece of shit machine with its perfect cardiac axis and its cruel sounds. That machine that was broken, because I was broken too.
Zadoc and I will find our daughter, anything else is none of your concern.
I was broken too…
My tongue snaked out and probed for the sting before I whispered. “It is none of my concern.”
That hard hiss frightened me. That was not my voice, and those were not my words. They were the words of a broken woman, a beaten woman…a useless woman.
And that was not me.
Footsteps resounded, echoing louder with every step. I closed my eyes, feigned sleep, sensing energy come into the room.
“Angel.”
Tight shallow breaths. Don’t wince from the pain…
“Doctor Leigh, would you like something to eat? We have beef stroganoff and mashed potatoes for dinner.”
My stomach churned with the thought.
The weight of a hand settled on my thigh. “How about some nice ice cream and Jell-O. Hmm?”
I counted in my head, counted the dead bodies in that cabin.
Counted the number of times I greeted death, and the number of times I said goodbye to no one at all.
Because that was all I had…no one.
“I’ll leave some in the nurses’ kitchen; just let them know when you’re hungry.”
The hand slipped away, footsteps followed. I waited until she was gone and opened my eyes. That was all that waited for me here, ice cream and Jell-O, and warm words and solemn gazes. But it wasn’t what I wanted…and it sure as Hell wasn’t what I needed.
I kicked the sheet and heavy blanket from my legs and stared at the railing. I worked my arm out from under me and felt for the knob.
Something pulled inside me, tied together with fragile string. I clenched the plastic and pulled. The railing moved, sliding sideways. I shoved, and pushed. Metal howled in a scream of warning. I jerked my gaze to the doorway, waiting for the sound of the nurse to come running.
