Lover Arisen, page 38
They both glanced down at the hall. It was a melee of hand to hand, the Brothers and the bastards engaging with the—
All at once, the shadows disappeared.
Sure as if they had been called off by their maker, the vampire warriors went from fighting tangible foes to kicking, punching, and stabbing at thin air. As they tripped, fell, slammed into the floor and the walls, the battle was over as quickly as it had started.
“What the fuck?” someone said.
“Where the hell—”
“—did they all—”
“—fucking go?”
It was the same snippets of conversation from each one of them, the males remaining braced with their daggers and their fists, their fighting stances unchallenged by any enemy.
Hard breathing was the only sound. No more screeching.
Until a door opened.
Balz pivoted toward the portal. And he knew who was coming out before he even saw her.
“Devina,” he growled.
The demon walked out into the corridor, a red dress hugging her curves, a string of pearls around her neck, her heels so high that she was as tall as he was. With her hair swept up on top of her head and diamonds sparkling on her earlobes, she was Julia Roberts, Pretty Woman’ing it off to the opera, so classy, so elegant.
The fucking cunt.
“Give me the Book,” Balz demanded as he pointed a gun at her. “Give me the fucking Book!”
She didn’t seem to hear him. And that was when he realized she was translucent, like a hologram. Even if he’d tried to shoot her, the bullets were going to go right through.
She did pause as she came up to him. “It’s gone.” Her voice was distracted and her dazed eyes stared past him. “I don’t know who took the Book, but it can’t leave on its own. So someone got in there and walked out with it.”
And then she just kept going.
Balz lunged for her, but when he tried to grab her arm, he just snatched at air. There was no substance to the demon at all.
“What about Erika!” he yelled. “You get the fuck out of her—”
Devina glanced over her shoulder. “It’s too late. Sorry. Oops.”
As she resumed walking, he started to go after her—but V locked a grip on him and hauled him back. “No, you let her go. Let. Her. Go. We’ll find Lassiter. Lassiter will help us—”
That was when the lights came back on in the stairwell. And as the demon easily walked through the the crowd of Brothers and bastards, even while they stabbed at her and tried to catch her, someone emerged down at the base of the steps.
Someone else… arrived.
On the far side of her see-through body, a blond-haired male in a black suit stepped into the hall.
Were those roses in his hands? Like… a dozen red roses?
And it was like he didn’t see what else was in the basement: The guy only had eyes for the demon, the transfixion so complete, it was as if he were under her spell.
V hissed to the group: “Retreat. We need to get out of here. That motherfucker in the suit is the son of the Omega and we’re all wounded. Retreat, now.”
Balz wanted to argue. He wanted to fight. He wanted the fucking Book and to hell with Lassiter. But as the warriors began to dematerialize out one by one, their broken bodies bearing the toll of the shadows’ impacts, he knew he was out of gas, too.
The angel was his only hope.
As he admitted defeat, the last thing Balz saw before he closed his eyes was the blond male grabbing the demon and pushing her up against the wall. Their heads came together as their bodies fused into one… and then, with those red roses still in his hand, the male tilted his head and kissed Devina like he had been waiting his entire life for her. As if she were his one true love.
Balz intended to dematerialize out. But his body wobbled on his feet, his vision got wonky, and he couldn’t seem to remember what he was doing or why. Out of hope, without a plan, and knowing his mate was dying…
What was all that copper he was suddenly smelling?
“Oh, shit,” he heard V say. “Jesus, Balz, you’ve been stabbed.”
Oh. Well. That explained the smell—
His last thought was of Erika.
Maybe he’d see her in the Fade.
Right…
…about…
…now.
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
Exactly nine minutes before Devina arrived at the building downtown, at precisely thirteen minutes before Sahvage led Balthazar down into the basement there, Rahvyn returned to Luchas House one last time. She was careful to hide what she had with her in her jacket, and after checking in with the social worker, she went upstairs. On her made bed, with its smoothed duvet cover and precisely stacked pillows, she took out that which had called to her.
The Book was warm to the touch, and as she put her palm upon it, it seemed to get even warmer, as if her body heat compounded its own.
The temptation to open the tome was overwhelming, and she felt as though the thing wanted her to lift its cover, the pages ruffling themselves between its hard, leathered confines.
It was alive, she realized. Living though it did not have breath or heart rate.
“You have caused much trouble,” she said.
A shudder registered under her hand, contrition made manifest.
“I know you did not mean to. But you are responsible for what you have wrought. You must know that.” She petted the bumpy cover to soothe its feelings. “In that, you and I are much the same. We are neither one nor the other, neither good nor evil, and that means we are by definition bad. We are agents of chaos, we are not right for this world.”
She passed her hand down its spine. “And that is why you called me to you, is it not. You know you have done wrong and you are tired of being used. You assess the balance of your deeds and recognize more ill has been done with you than you can bear. You need to just get away.”
The Book seemed to let out a sigh, air leaving the bottoms of its pages.
“All right, then.”
Rahvyn looked around the tidy little room, and recalled setting up the furniture with Nate. All had had to be built of pieces and hardware provided, from the bed to the bureau to the bedside table. It had taken them quite a while, and as they had worked together, there had been such hope in his face. Distracted by her own troubles, she had been ignorant of his affection at the time. But she had recognized thereafter certain looks that he imparted upon her and tried to hide, a special warmth entering his voice and his eyes, whenever he was in her presence.
She had cursed him twice, hadn’t she.
Once with eternal life. The second with unrequited love.
Putting her hand in her pocket, she took out the cell phone she had been given, one of so many new instruments and mechanicals that existed in this era. She was not sure she would miss any of them.
She would miss Nate, however.
Calling up his number, she dialed and listened to the ringing. She kept her hand on the Book as she awaited him to answer. He did not.
Voice mail was a strange concept to her, but then again so much was.
For her next destination, she would go back in time, to a simpler era. Verily, this one did not suit her at all.
When it was time for her to record her words, she cleared her throat and became nervous, as it was only the second such message she had ever left, the first being to her dear cousin, right before she had gone to retrieve the Book. “Ah… Nate. I am calling to let you know that… I am sorry I have to go. And to thank you for being such a good friend to me. I wish I could stay, I do. But I must be moving on. I left a voice mail with Sahvage, too. I told him to mentor you. He has lived in your state for centuries. He will guide you in ways I cannot.”
She was not sure how to end things.
“Goodbye, Nate.”
Ending the call, she placed the cell phone on the bedside table and picked up the Book. Then she went over to the window, cracked it, and closed her eyes.
When she was calm enough, she dematerialized out to the field. The flowers Lassiter had given her were still alive, the springy bounce of their petals and greenery providing a lift to both her steps and her spirits, one that stayed with her as she walked the Book into the forest, to the great wound in the earth that marked her arrival.
Dropping herself down into the hole, she held the Book to her chest.
She had said goodbye to the only two people who would miss her.
Well, and then there was her angel. But they had already parted after their one and only embrace. She had so wanted to ease his suffering, but he had been willing to share none of it with her. In the end, she had had to let him go because he had demanded it of her.
And because she had to for her own reasons.
They might have had a future, if they had been other souls. Their destinies could not intersect in any permanent way, however.
Star-crossed lovers, she thought as she called upon the energy of the universe.
The light that came for her was so brilliant it did not just blind Rahvyn, it blew her molecules apart, scattering her off the earth, to an infinite number of planes of existence.
And with her the ancient tome, which she would find a safe place for, far, far, far from the contact of mortals.
At least in this, she felt as though she was doing a service unto her species and humanity at large.
Like her, it was only safe for the Book to remain… untouchable forevermore.
CHAPTER FIFTY
You need to wake the fuck up and save him.”
The words were spoken to Erika in a flat tone. Like the mouth they came out of was a ticker tape sharing an update on stocks or something.
“If you want him to live,” the voice persisted, “then you need to get your ass up and go to him. Without you, he’s going to fucking die.”
Maybe this is a dream, she thought. Which would explain so much—
Erika’s eyes popped open. And she wrenched her head to the side.
It was the goateed fighter, the one who had stood next to her a lifetime ago by the mobile surgical unit—and somehow, she was not surprised. What shocked her… was that she was still alive.
With a full-body jerk, she looked down at herself. She was in a hospital bed, and as the covers over her lower body registered, she was terrified at what was underneath.
“You’re going to be fine,” the goateed vampire muttered. “He’s the one we’re worried about now—”
“You were there,” she said in a rough voice. “After Balthazar carried me back to bed… you were there—where am I?”
“We don’t have time for this—”
“What day is it?”
Her mind refused to move very fast, even as some instinct told her that she needed to hurry the hell up—
“You’re in the Brotherhood’s training facility. You were brought in last night. I’ve been treating you with this.” He held up a gloved hand. “And with the help of my roommate, we were able to get the infection out of you. It was touch and go—”
“Balthazar!” She sat up. Then threw out a hand for help as the world spun. “Where is he—”
“Annnnd now we’re really awake. Fucking finally.”
There were other males in the room, and she recognized some of them. They were injured, too, wraps on their hands, arms in slings, one of them had an eye patch. The instant she looked at them, they bowed to her, lowering their heads in respect.
She was surrounded by vampires. And she’d never felt safer.
“Where is Balthazar?” she demanded.
“In the next room—”
Erika threw the covers off herself and put her feet over the edge of the bed. The mattress seemed seven feet off the ground. She didn’t care. She launched herself right—
As her legs collapsed, the goateed one caught her weight. Except then, when she went to head for the door, he held her back.
“Wait, IV. You’ve got an IV.”
Lifting her arm, she had a moment of relief that her skin was a normal color again. Then she ripped out the cannula in her arm and started walking.
“Don’t you dare stop me again,” she muttered to Goatee as he jumped forward to catch up. “I’ve got to get to him.”
His chuckle was one of respect. “I’m not going to keep you two apart. Don’t worry about that, female.”
The fighter with the scarred upper lip held the door open, and there were two others who helped her along. When the door to another room was opened for her, she looked in—
“Oh… God.”
Somebody took her arm. Goatee? Yes, that was the one.
“I know he looks bad,” the vampire said. “But he’s a bonded male. As soon as he hears your voice, it’s his best shot at coming back. When he was fighting a shadow, we think the entity somehow got ahold of one of his daggers—and did some serious damage. He lost a lot of blood, and he’s sustained a stroke. It was a minor one, but he needs a reason to fight. You’re it.”
Lying back against the pillows, plugged into all kinds of machines, Balthazar looked already dead. And holy hell from the injuries. His face so swollen, his features were nearly unrecognizable, and his breathing was nothing but a wheeze.
Erika rushed to his bedside, using Goatee like a walker, pushing him in front of her at the same time she hung on to the waistband of his leather pants.
“Balthazar. It’s me. I’m here.”
As she leaned over him, a Kleenex was put in her hand and she impatiently swiped at her eyes. “I need you, please come back to me.”
Dropping her head next to his on the pillow, she was aware she was getting really weak, and Goatee must have recognized this. She felt her body get lifted up and settled on the bed next to Balthazar’s.
She wanted to touch him, but his skin was covered in welts. And as the world went on another ride around her, she couldn’t believe they were both in such rough shape. But that didn’t matter.
They had each other to live for—and that was more than enough.
Steeling her resolve, calling on every ounce of will she had in her soul, she turned his face to her.
And spoke in a loud, clear demand, the three most important words she knew: “I love you.”
* * *
It was what Balz had been waiting for.
In the midst of his stasis, trapped between death and life, in a prison of pain, he had prayed that his Erika would come to him. He had refused to believe she was dead, that the demon had won, that the Book was lost. If he just held on, if he fought the lure of the Fade, surely she would come for him, and he would follow her scent and the sound of her voice out of—
Balthazar, come back to me. I need you. Please… after everything, don’t let this be our end. Remember my basement, be with me down there again, hold me… don’t leave me…
He thought he would have to fight to return.
Instead, he just floated his way up to her. As his female whispered to him, he orientated himself to her syllables and they became his map, showing him the way to go home.
Rising, rising… rising…
Opening his eyes, his vision was blurry. But he didn’t need clarity to know her features because he saw them with his heart.
“Balthazar?” she said with wonder. “Balthazar?”
“I…”
“Oh, my God, he’s alive, he’s back!”
“Love…”
There were all kinds of conversations at that point, other people in the room with them talking with excitement, the voices ones that he recognized. Meanwhile, he didn’t understand how Erika was still alive.
How was his female still alive? They hadn’t brought the Book back. They hadn’t…
Vishous?
The Brother Vishous was right at his bedside, and Balz focused on that gloved hand. Then he remembered the power in that palm, and what it had done to those shadows. He thought also of Butch who—there he was. The former homicide cop was by the bed, too, looking like he had food poisoning, his face sallow, a little green line around his mouth. As the pair of roommates met each other’s eyes, they nodded, as if they’d worked hard together. As if they’d toiled on a project… and finally gotten it past a finish line.
No, Balz thought. They may have helped keep Erika alive, but something else had had to have intervened to cure the infection.
And he’d been saying something to her, hadn’t he?
Oh. Right.
“You…”
As he finished that last word, Erika moved her face even closer to his own, and that was when he finally saw her properly.
“Beautiful… female… mine…” he croaked.
“Yes, yes—”
When she tried to kiss him, he hissed because he hurt all over—and he didn’t care about the pain. “Kiss me anyway…”
Her lips were soft against his own, and then he was exhausted—but stayed where he was, a balloon tethered to life by her presence. As long as she was with him, he knew where he was supposed to be; wherever she was, was his place.
“I love you, too,” she whispered.
At the end of the day, even though he had so many questions still, and so many blank spaces that needed filling in… that was all he needed to know, wasn’t it.
The rest was history.
EPILOGUE
Three nights later…
Not all spring nights were warm. Some of them were downright cold, and as Balz stepped out of the Brotherhood mansion’s vestibule, the difference in temperature from the balmy foyer and the chilly great outdoors was enough to make him zip his leather jacket up over his steel daggers.
As he looked across the courtyard to the glowing lights of the Pit, his sight of the smaller caretakers’ house was partially obstructed by the fountain. The great basin, with its central marble statue that spit water all over the place, was still winterized. Good thing. It was below freezing tonight.
Before he took off, he glanced back at the great manse. All of the diamond-paned windows were glowing, and with his keen ears, he could hear both the laughter of Last Meal as families lingered over dessert as well as the talk that was starting up in the billiards room as Brothers and fighters gathered around the pool tables.
