Saved By Her (Soul Searchers Book 1)

by BE Brouillard

  A muffled scream echoed from deep within the corridors of the building, and Xander’s head shot up, the hand he’d been resting on the desk curling into a fist.

  “Rebecca!” The tortured edge in his voice snagged Rosie’s attention.

  “How do you—” she started, suddenly utterly aware of the otherworldly nature of what was going on. She put a hand on his arm. “Go! I’ve got this.”

  He didn’t need another word of encouragement. Xander spun in the direction of the voice he could hear ringing through the hallways like a homing beacon. More than the voice, he could hear her breath, the sound of her heartbeat, the blood in her veins. Nurses, doctors, and orderlies scattered out of his way as he slid to a halt on the slick, sterile floor of a surgical theatre.

  “Sir! This is the surgical ward! Sir, you can’t—!” a nurse called out. He didn’t bother glancing in her direction. Rebecca lay in the center of the room on a steel table beneath an oversized light. Around her stood a gathering of hospital staff dressed in bizarre green gowns. A masked man shot a look of fury in his direction.

  “What the—? Get him out of here!” he snapped. Several medical staff advanced on Xander, preparing to usher him out. The largest – a determined-looking man – squawked as Xander swept a powerful arm in his direction and shoved him off his feet. Three others hovered uncertainly, suddenly aware that this man represented danger. They glanced at the doctor, who cursed beneath his breath.

  “Get security! This is an operating theatre, not a football field! I need him out of here. Now!” On the table before him, Becky raised a weak hand.

  “No, please…” Her voice was hoarse, and Xander bit back a strangled groan. A sturdy woman stepped toward him – he recognized her as the trauma nurse who had initially met them.

  “Mr. North,” she said, her voice soothing, “Mr. North, it’s me, Martha…Martha Watermann. I helped you when you brought your wife in?” She fought back his anxiety, reminding him that she was there to help. “I must ask you to step out of the room. This is a sterile environment, and you are putting your wife’s life at risk.”

  He stared down at her, still uncomprehending.

  “Sir, we have to perform an emergency C-section, the baby is in distress, and if we can’t assist now, she may die.” Xander shook his head, expression still blank. It felt like mere minutes ago, these people were wheeling a very lucid Rebecca towards a ward for observation. What had gone wrong? What were they planning to do to her?

  “C…C-section?” he stammered, unfamiliar with everything happening around him and preparing to go to war rather than face this sense of powerlessness.

  “Caesarian, Mr. North. We have to surgically remove the baby,” the nurse explained.

  “You are going to cut her open?” His voice was filled with horror, he made as if to lunge forward. The nurse put a calming hand on his arm.

  “It’s a procedure that will save both their lives, Mr. North.” She spoke to him as if to a small child, somehow aware that she had to spell it out. “Rebecca has been given an anesthetic – medication to numb her body. The surgeon will make a small incision in the lower section of her abdomen so that the baby can be safely extracted. If we act now, we will be able to help them. Both of them. Please, Mr North, let the doctor do his job.” Her eyes were pleading over the top of her surgical mask. Xander hesitated, almost took a step back. And then Rebecca screamed.

  “Shit!” It was the anesthesiologist. The surgeon glanced at him in alarm.

  “Dr. Walters! What is going on?”

  “The epidural should have taken effect by now,” the anesthesiologist replied, “she shouldn’t be feeling anything at all.” Rebecca had begun babbling as if delirious, chest heaving as she began to pant.

  “Xander, I—” She screamed again, and he launched himself towards her, Sister Watermann almost falling out of his way. He reached her side and grabbed her hand, pressing his forehead to hers, inhaling deeply, fingers tracing her cheek. In a moment, she’d calmed, her breath easing.

  “Shhhhh,” he murmured. “Shhhh, I’m here.” Over the top of his head, the surgeon glanced at the fallen nurse.

  “Get him scrubbed up. We can’t wait any longer, and I don’t have time to negotiate our way through this shitstorm,” he snapped.

  Sister Watermann nodded, stepping to Xander and placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

  “Mr. North, you can stay. But I have to ask you to cooperate with us. Your wife is about to undergo surgery, her life will be compromised if you expose her to any bacteria. I need you to put on sterile clothing and a face mask. We need to get you cleaned up. Is that ok? Do you understand?”

  He raised himself from Rebecca’s side, staring at the woman for a moment. Then he nodded wordlessly, allowing her to lead him to a series of basins outside the door to the room, where he donned a set of the outlandish gear the team wore inside. Trying to explain to her that there was no way he’d be harboring bacteria seemed like a pointless exercise. Already he could hear her heart rate accelerating, her small whimpers increasing in volume.

  “She needs me,” he whispered hoarsely.

  “Yes, of course, Mr. North. I understand,” the nurse soothed … understanding absolutely nothing but realizing that this was a situation that required special care. He was already striding back into the room, and she jogged to keep up.

  “Keep him out of my way,” snapped the surgeon, glancing at her sharply and then turning back to where Rebecca lay. “What’s her status,” he directed the question at Dr. Walters.

  “Stable, doctor, but I’m concerned about the dosage…” the man replied, a furrow of worry deepening between his brows. He glanced down at Rebecca, who had turned to face Xander, her eyes locked with his. “She seems to have settled, but I’m going to monitor her closely.”

  “Do that,” the surgeon barked. “You let me know the minute you see something out of the ordinary.” His eyes narrowed as the anesthetist gave a snort. “Something funny, doctor?”

  “No…just…Well, everything about this case is out of the ordinary, doctor,” he muttered, eyeing the couple who’d become lost in each other’s presence.

  Xander was barely aware of the team that worked around him. Every cell in his body focused on the woman before him, the grip of her fingers on his hand, her breath against his face. Words swirled around him, almost meaningless… “Swab.” “Vitals?” “Scalpel.”

  And then a jolt of white-hot pain so intense he grunted, felt the air leave his lungs in a rush. It was as if someone had kicked him in the belly and was rummaging through his organs. The sensations were incomprehensible – so many years of nothingness, and now this… He groaned, gritted his teeth as he held her gaze. A bead of sweat formed in his hairline and trickled down his forehead. He left it to trail there, both his hands wrapped around hers as he consciously settled his breathing. He began crooning softly to her, a lilting childhood tune from so long ago he could barely recall where he’d first heard it. Probably his crib. Her lips tilted up at the sound, golden tendrils of hair turned dark with sweat clung to her cheeks, and he reached a hand up to brush them away, gloved fingers moving stickily over her damp skin.

  “I’m here…I’m here…” he murmured to her, urging her to sink into his eyes. It became easier and easier to focus purely on her as the dark shadows that fluttered on the outskirts of his vision began to narrow in.

  Had the Threshers come?

  ‘Please wait!’ he pleaded silently. ‘I’ll come, just let me save her first!’

  It was as if he was looking down a dark tunnel directly into her eyes. Now the words and actions of the doctors barely registered around him, aside from the savage pain that almost doubled him over. He resisted the urge to wrap an arm around his midsection, felt his legs beginning to buckle. He sank down to his knees beside the gurney, straining to keep his face level with hers. Ignoring the dark shadows.

  “Xander…” Her voice was a frail whisper as she reached a hand to him. The doctor gave
a sudden exclamation of relief.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, we have a beautiful baby girl on our hands, and she appears to be in excellent health!” Rebecca’s eyes flew up to where the doctor was standing, then flashed back to gaze at him, a smile spreading over her glowing face. He let his own lips curl up as the darkness closed in. The joy in her intense blue eyes was the last thing he saw as his own closed, and he slid to the floor, fingers slipping from her grasp.

  ‘This is the end.’ His mind spun, and then there was nothing.

  Rebecca gave a cry of despair that matched the volume of their newborn infant.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  All was darkness.

  Silence.

  The sense of being in an endless vacuum.

  And then a great rushing of wind and a flash of light.

  Xander groaned, raised a hand to shield his eyes as he lifted his chest off the ground. Every molecule of what he considered to be his body screamed in agony. He fought the urge to drop back down and curl into a ball.

  “Jesus…” he gasped.

  “Not quite,” a voice replied, tone sardonic. Lilith. “Fuck!” he groaned, mostly to himself.

  “What’s going on? What am I doing here? Where’s Rebecca? Is she safe?” he ground out between gritted teeth, fists clenching and unclenching against the pain.

  “She is fine, Anaxandridas. And so is your child.” He heard Salazar utter the words, and his body slumped in relief.

  “Thank god,” he murmured, rubbing a hand over his face, a strange sensation beneath his fingertips, causing him to frown. He glanced around him, still aware of the whirling wind. Something had yanked him out of that hospital and back to this other place.

  Why?

  He spun around, trying to recognize where he was. Looking for the telltale black streaks that would herald the advent of the Threshers. “Am I going to hell now?” His mouth was dry as he asked it.

  “Pfffft!” snorted Lilith, who was promptly shushed by Calliope, standing at her side.

  “No, Anaxandridas,” smiled Salazar. Xander blinked in confusion.

  “Then…then what? The other place? Am I going to heaven?” Xander felt like a child as he pressed for answers. “What’s happening to me.”

  “The choice is yours, Xander,” Cato interjected, also smiling. Xander stared at him as he slowly rose to his feet.

  “I…I hurt,” he gasped as another wave of pain washed over him.

  “Yes, Anaxandridas.” Calliope smiled. “You are dying.”

  “What—?” He struggled for words, stared down at his hands, which looked to be disintegrating before his eyes. He raised his eyes in shock, turned to Salazar for understanding.

  “The demon in you is dying, Xander,” Salazar explained, his voice soft, almost gentle. “Your time here is coming to an end. The being you knew as yourself for all of these many many years, is dying.”

  Xander’s chest heaved. He bit back a swell of panic.

  “But…but what am I supposed to do now?” he asked, fear lacing his voice.

  “That is up to you, Xander,” said Cato. “You’ve earned your place in heaven. Do you want to go?”

  Xander stared at him, eyes clouded with confusion.

  “Heaven?” he mouthed, his mind reeling. What about Rebecca? The baby? How were they going to cope? His heart surged with anxiety for them.

  “Yes, Anaxandridas,” Lilith interrupted. “Heaven. You finally made the cut.” She looked as if she wanted to roll her eyes but thought better of it. “For the first time in your miserable existence, you thought of someone other than yourself. You made the ultimate sacrifice to save her…”

  “Even though you knew you might be headed for eternal damnation,” added Salazar, shooting a smug glance at Lilith, who narrowed her eyes at him. “You sacrificed yourself for another human being, Anaxandridas, without any expectation of benefit to yourself,” he explained. “It’s why we didn’t tell you that the act would be the one thing to save you.”

  Xander continued to stare, aware of the rapidly diminishing state of his body – he watched in horror as his limbs shimmered into nothing in the darkness surrounding them.

  “Don’t be alarmed, Xander,” Calliope’s voice was soft, soothing. “The demon is dying, but you will continue…the goodness within you will continue. And you can decide. Where do you want to exist next?”

  “What?” Xander couldn’t comprehend the question. “Isn’t there just heaven…or hell?” he choked on the word.

  “If you want,” Cato cut in. “Or, you can go back…” he glanced down, “back to where you were.”

  Xander’s heart – what there was of it – leaped.

  “Back to Rebecca? To live with her? Our child?” He was babbling.

  “Yes,” Salazar smiled. Calliope literally glowed with delight. Even Lilith managed a small smile. For all their endless rivalry, the Council truly found reason to celebrate when one of their souls found atonement.

  “I’ll go!” he barked out. “Send me back to her!”

  “Of course, this means you will be living on earth as a mortal,” Cato warned. “Your powers will be gone. You’ll live an ordinary life. You’ll age with her, eventually die.”

  “Yes!” he yelled again. “That is what I want. That is exactly what I want!” His mind raced. A life with his Becky, their angel child. He could think of nothing better. For him, that would be heaven. Pure and simple.

  “You’re sure, Anaxandridas? No choirs of angels or eternal bliss?” Lilith cut in mockingly.

  “Life with Becky will be bliss! Send me back! For fuck’s sakes, send me back now!” Xander felt his blood surging with the need to return. He glanced down at where his body had been, saw nothing except a shimmering glow of red, which lightened, brightened to a glowing white light.

  “It’s your soul,” Calliope smiled gently as she recognized his confusion. “Your beautiful, beautiful soul.” Xander met her warm eyes, turned to Salazar, who smiled too and gave a small wink.

  “It is done.” Cato snapped his fingers, and just like that, all was black again.

  ***

  Rebecca rubbed her eyes and shifted in the narrow, uncomfortable bed, stared around the room, trying to get her bearings. As the fogginess faded, recollection began to dawn. She gasped as it all came back in a blinding flash. The pain, the hospital, the baby…Xander. Oh god, Xander! The memory of his slackening fingers slipping from her grip. His body on the floor, the nurses rushing around to attend to him—

  At first, they’d thought he’d passed out.

  “Typical dad moment,” one had chuckled, “can’t stand the sight of blood.”

  Until Nurse Watermann had responded, her fingers on a spot below his jawline, alarm tingeing her voice. “I can’t find a pulse!”

  The moments after had been a blur of confusion. Doctors and nurses had bustled around, attending to her tiny infant, swabbing her belly and suturing her incision. Meanwhile, more staff had wheeled in another gurney where Xander had been lifted. Becky sobbed, trying to reach for him, yet anxious to know what was happening to her child.

  “What’s happening? Please tell me. Is she—?” Becky felt hysteria rising, terror at the lifeless form of Xander being worked on by all those people…and then intense love as they’d placed her baby into her arms as they wheeled her from the room. So many conflicting emotions. Every inch of her longed to race back to where he lay, but her legs refused to obey her. Everything below her waist was utterly numb, it felt as if she was bound to a heavy dead weight of lifeless limbs.

  “Honey, your baby needs you,” Nurse Watermann urged. “The doctors will tend to your husband. You need to focus.” Her hand was on Becky’s shoulder, pressing her back.

  Then the little body pressed against her chest had mewled – a surprisingly robust, insistent cry – and her heart had wrenched as she’d stared down at that tiny, wrinkled pink face. How could her chest be swelling with so much love when her heart had just been ripped from her bod
y and crushed?

  “We’re going to take you back to the maternity wing and get you settled,” the nurse continued. “You have a beautiful, healthy baby girl!” Despite her anguish, Becky felt a surge of relief.

  “Oh, thank god,” she breathed.

  “Yes… He surely works in mysterious ways,” the nurse murmured. “We were certain this was going to be a complicated case. But just look at her! Look at the life you made. Aren’t you a proud mama?” Her face was wreathed in smiles, and Becky was powerless to resist. Her own smile lit up her face.

  “She’s so beautiful,” she sighed, gazing down at the wriggling bundle in her arms. The dark eyes that stared up at her seemed almost too lucid to belong to such a tiny human. They reminded her so much of her father it was impossible to bite back the little sob that built in her chest.

  “Please…I need to know how he is,” she tore her eyes from her child for a moment and asked the nurse, who nodded.

  “Just as soon as the two of you are both safe in your ward, I promise I’ll head straight back out to get an update. But you have to focus on that baby for me now. Deal?” The nurse’s eyes met Rebecca’s.

  “Yes, Sister Watermann, deal.” Becky’s voice was trembling, but her gaze was steady as she nodded.

  The nurse gave a warm smile. “Call me Martha.” She’d wheeled the gurney into a wing with peach-hued walls, pretty prints, and cheerful floral drapes. “This is your cubicle right here,” she said as she motioned to a pair of nurses at a nearby station. “We’re going to get you in bed and make sure you’re comfortable.”

  As she was speaking, the nurses had efficiently maneuvered her off the surgical gurney and into a hospital bed. A small bassinet was wheeled up beside it.

  “Baby will get to sleep with you once we’re sure that all is well. Nurse Caroline here will get her back to your doctor for a thorough check-up, while Nurse Emma gets rid of that surgical gown and helps you into something prettier,” she winked. “But first things first…this little mite has just made an incredible journey into the world, and she needs feeding!”