by Cassie Miles
"Is he really sick?" the daughter asked. "I mean, I thought he was just, like, in a bad mood."
Rafe didn't want to tell her that her father might be dying. "May I see him?"
The man of the house was in bed. Unlike Eddy and Frank, he wasn't feverish, but his complexion was pale and he was wheezing.
"To be on the safe side," Rafe said, "I want you to report to the coroner's office."
"The coroner?"
Rafe flipped open the black doctor's bag and took out a card. At each stop, he'd been advising people to contact the coroner's office if they noticed any unusual symptoms. He scribbled down a name and phone number. "Tell this man that you might be infected with the Montclair virus and do exactly as he says."
Additionally, Rafe took his last vial of antidote and gave it to Mrs. Ferdinand. "This might be a cure, but don't use it unless you're instructed to do so."
The teenaged girl regarded him with wide, frightened eyes. "Is this stuff dangerous?"
"Yes," Rafe said. He didn't tell them that the virus could be lethal within forty-eight hours. To Mrs. Ferdinand, he said, "You need to act on this right away."
"I knew the free pigs were too good to be true. There had to be a catch."
"Was your pig delivered by a well-dressed man?"
"Yes. Mr. Vincenzo," she said.
Rafe returned to the cab. As he deposited the squealing piglet in the back seat beside Jenna, the cabbie groaned.
"Don't worry," Rafe said, "I'll pay extra."
"Yeah, but what about the pig?"
Rafe went nose to snout with the piglet. "He looks like a real big tipper."
Jenna laughed. "That's five. Only one to go."
It was after nine O'clock at night when their plane touched down in Compton, and they loaded the pigs into the truck. For the last pickup, near Olvera Street in downtown L.A., Rafe decided they could drive.
By now, the pilot had developed an attachment and was gushing with baby talk for the herd.
"So, Jenna," he said, "you get in touch with me. Okay? I want to get one of these guys for myself."
"Sure thing," she said.
"Bye, fellas." He waved. "You be good, little snookum-wookum piggies."
When Jenna climbed into the passenger seat, she seemed to be dragging. Though she'd slept through most of the day, she still didn't seem rested.
Rafe reached across the seat and touched her forehead. She seemed warm. "How are you feeling?"
"A little chilly." She fished around behind the truck seat until she found a gym bag. Inside, she found a sweatshirt and slipped into it. "All better."
"Are you sure?" He'd given the last vial of antidote to the Ferdinand family. There was no way of treating her if she'd caught the virus. Even if he had the antidote, it hadn't succeeded in curing Frank. "Maybe we should go to the coroner's office and see if they can help you."
"Why? Do you think I might have been infected when we were with Frank?"
He counted the time backward in his head. Roughly, it had been a day and a half since she'd helped Frank into the rear of the car. "The timing seems right."
"But if the virus is airborne, why aren't you showing symptoms? For that matter, why not Hugh? And all the other people on the estate? It doesn't make sense that I'd be the only one to catch it."
He thought back to their prior encounter with Hugh at the estate. They'd taken Frank inside, gotten him into bed. They'd gone to the kitchen. "The water," he said.
"What?"
"While you were at the estate, you drank bottled water."
Her eyes widened. "And Sean said that I was like Frank. He drank a lot of water, too."
"The water must be how the virus is transferred."
This final deduction paled in importance when he realized that Jenna was infected.
She shook her head. "I don't really feel bad. Let's get the pig."
"Absolutely not. If you were infected when you drank the water, it means you only have half a day left. We can't waste any time."
"First, get the pig," she said. "If I don't feel better by then, I'll check in with whomever you want me to see."
Though it went against his better judgment, Rafe headed toward Olvera Street. He was right about the water. He knew it. And he didn't want to take chances where Jenna was concerned.
Even if he couldn't be with her, he wished for her to have a long, productive mortal life, to draw every pleasure from that existence. He wished she could have every experience, that she could see every sunrise, taste every succulent fruit.
"Stop fussing," she said. "Get the pig."
"Damn the pigs. Jenna, if you've caught this virus—"
"I want to finish what we've started."
His heart pumped at double the normal rate. A sensation that Rafe deduced was panic spread through him. He couldn't stand to have anything happen to her.
He drove through the streets of downtown Los Angeles, keeping a careful watch for signs of her illness worsening. But she appeared to be better. Either she was putting on a great show or he had overreacted.
Rafe parked outside a small apartment building. Could there be a pig here? Why would Hugh give a pig to someone who lived in the middle of the city? "Come with me, Jenna."
"I should stay here and keep an eye on the pigs. In this part of town, they're bacon. Somebody might take them for lunch."
When she climbed out of the truck to stand in the back, near the pigs, he noticed that her usual energy was gone. She moved slowly, weakly.
"I'll be right back," he said, racing into the apartment building.
When he climbed the stairs to the second floor and found the appropriate apartment number and asked about a pig, the woman looked at him as if he was crazy. She had no pigs. Nor did she want one.
This address was a setup.
In a flash, Rafe knew exactly what had happened. Danny had given them the list, but Danny wouldn't betray them. This list came from Nick Vincenzo. Nick had been in charge of dispersing the pigs. Nick had always been at the center of operations, the only person besides Hugh who had access to the refrigerated unit in the lab.
Rafe charged down the stairs and into the streets in time to see Jenna arguing with a man. Evil was thick around them. Rafe could smell the fetid stench. The demons had gathered for their final assault.
As if alerted to his presence by an unheard shout, Nick Vincenzo whirled to confront Rafe. In his fist, he had a gun. "I've come for the pigs," he said. "Give them to me, and you won't be hurt."
Rafe knew better. Nick couldn't let them walk away. He and Jenna knew too much. "Why did you kill Eddy?"
"Eddy was a fool."
Rafe eased closer to him, hoping Nick would drop his guard. "You were protecting Hugh," he said. "Eddy threatened to inform the SPCA about the experiments on pigs."
"Dr. Montclair is a good man. He's been good to my family." Nick shuffled nervously, but held the gun steady. "He tried to save my father. He discovered the second virus. Nothing else was his doing."
"Then it was you," Rafe said. "You killed Eddy to protect the good doctor. You gave Eddy the virus in bottled water. The same kind that Jenna likes to drink."
Nick glanced toward her. His lip curled in a predatory sneer. He was trembling, unaware that dark forces beyond his comprehension directed him toward evil.
Rafe continued, "You tried to kill her. You had already prepared the water for the next time she visited. Or maybe you were planning to leave the bottle in her refrigerator on Soundstage 7."
"Shut up," Nick said.
"But Frank drank the water, instead."
"My brother shouldn't have died. It was an accident. He took the wrong water bottle." Nick's chin lifted. "But his death was not in vain. When he succumbed to the virus, we learned that the antidote that worked on pigs was useless on humans."
Rafe was horrified. Nick had used his own brother for experimentation. "And Eddy? Did you try the antidote on him?"
"I watched him. I waited for my chance.
He didn't seem to be infected. Then the symptoms arose. He was violently ill. When I approached him, he fled to Jenna."
So, Eddy was another experiment. Like the pigs. Rafe glanced toward the truck. "Why didn't you just kill the pigs?"
"They all had the virus and had been cured by the antidote. They might have been useful for further experimentation. I didn't think anyone would track them down through anonymous ads in a local newspaper."
"Why?" Rafe asked. "Why have you done these things?"
"No one should have to suffer the way my father did. The experiments were necessary. Don't you understand? They were necessary to find the cure."
Nick's voice quavered. Confusion distorted his face as he looked down at the gun in his hand, wondering where it had come from.
Though Rafe was no longer an angel, he saw the struggle that raged within Nick Vincenzo. His soul was the battlefield for good and evil.
Rafe stepped toward him.
Nick raised his gun. His eyes burned. "Get away from here. Am I going to have to shoot you?"
"Don't shoot." Rafe held out the car keys. "Take the truck. The pigs are in the back. That's all you want. The pigs. The evidence."
A small crowd had gathered around them, and Rafe was concerned for their safety. He began gesturing for people to get back, to give Nick room.
As soon as Nick left the rear of the truck and climbed into the front seat, Rafe pulled Jenna out of the way. "Stay here," he ordered.
He returned to the truck and grabbed one of the pigs from the rear. He started running. There was a church on the corner, the same adobe church where he'd come to find Eddy Benson's guardian angel. Nick's evil angels couldn't follow into the sanctuary. In the church, Rafe might have a chance.
He was shocked when he turned and saw Jenna running right behind him. She hadn't looked strong enough to stand. Now, she was sprinting with all her might.
He clasped her hand as they charged up the steps and pushed open the heavy wooden doors. Inside were rough wood floors and simple pews. There was a confessional, and a stand with holy water. A wooden statue of the Madonna stood outside the altar rail to the left. Dozens of votive candles were lit at her feet.
Rafe led Jenna toward the front.
"In here," he said. "Lie down on this pew. Don't move."
The exertion had taken its toll on Jenna. She was gasping for breath. Her face was waxen. Her hands, ice cold, shook uncontrollably.
He freed the piglet and herded it toward the front of the church where a Franciscan priest in woolen robes had appeared.
"Get back, Father," Rafe shouted.
"What is the meaning of this?"
"Take the pig and get out of the way."
Rafe barreled down the center aisle of the church. He was running full tilt when the door opened and Nick stepped inside. Before he had time to react, Rafe had crashed into him, knocking him off his feet. The gun fell from his hand.
Rafe picked it up. He stood over Nick Vincenzo.
It was time for vengeance.
"Nick Vincenzo," Rafe said. "You murdered Eddy Benson. Your actions caused the death of your brother, Frank. With a gun, you killed Taylor Wannamaker."
Nick covered his face with his hands. "I only wanted to protect the people I love. My father left us. It was up to me."
"In the name of Saint Francis of Assisi." Rafe lowered the gun and aimed it at the man who cringed on his knees before him. "You will meet your justice."
But Rafe couldn't pull the trigger.
So many times before he had delivered punishment to the wrongdoers. But now he could not kill with impunity. He was no longer an Avenging Angel. Rafe was mortal. Justice was not his right.
At that moment, he knew that he could never return to that existence. Forever until death, Rafe Santini was only a man. It wasn't his place to decide the fate of other men.
"Hey, Nick."
When he looked up, Rafe delivered a heavy blow to the chin, sending him into unconsciousness.
He returned to the front of the church where the votive candles seemed to burn more brightly. And he knelt beside Jenna. Her breathing was labored. She shivered convulsively.
Gently, he pulled her into his arms, trying to impart his bodily warmth to her.
But Rafe could see death in her eyes. She was going to leave him. "I love you, Jenna. I love you with all my heart. Don't forget me. Please, my darling Jenna, don't forget me."
Tears fell unchecked from his eyes. Never before had he wept. Never before had his body wrenched with such agonizing sorrow.
"I swear, Jenna, I'll find you. Even death won't keep us apart."
Arrogance.
The word rumbled, shaking the walls of the church.
"Saint Michael," Rafe whispered. He bowed his head. "Help her, Michael. I pray. Please don't let her die."
When Rafe looked up, he saw a swirling of light, a glow so brilliant that it hurt his eyes. It passed down the center aisle of the church and descended in a funnel cloud to Nick. Silhouetted against the light were multicolored shapes, writhing in heinous torture. The evil was dying. Rafe could hear the piercing screams of demons as they were vanquished, one by one, burned in the fire of Saint Michael's fierce illumination.
There was a flash, almost an explosion.
He leaned across Jenna, shielding her. In his arms, her body went limp.
"Michael," Rafe cried, "take me instead. Let her live."
Her breathing ceased. He could feel her soul departing, drawn to the celestial light.
"No," he cried. "Jenna, don't leave me."
He clutched her body against his. It couldn't be her time to die. It couldn't be. She had so much more to give.
He poured all his love into her, all his hopes, all his prayers.
And Jenna gasped. Her delicate eyelids fluttered and opened. As her chest rose and fell in steady breathing, he saw the color return to her cheeks. Her arms tightened around him.
"Rafe? What happened?"
"You've been given back to me," he said.
His tears streaked, shamelessly, upon his cheeks. He was humbled in the presence of their miracle.
She snuggled against him. "You're not going to become an angel and go flying off, are you?"
"From the first moment I truly recognized you, my choice was made," he said. "I choose you."
He kissed her forehead. The fevered skin had begun to cool.
"I'm all right," she said. "I can sit up by myself."
He gazed at her in wonder, and stroked her long blond hair. Her fragile beauty overwhelmed him. "Are you sure you're all right?"
"I think so."
He placed his head on her breast, hearing her heartbeat. As he listened, Rafe imagined that he heard the tiny echo of another heart beating within her. A child?
The priest, accompanied by a potbellied pig came to stand beside them. "My son, what happened here?"
"A miracle, Father."
"Is there anything I can do?"
Rafe gazed into Jenna's soft brown eyes. "We'll be needing your services, Father."
"We will?" Jenna said.
"For a wedding ceremony."
In his mortal heart, Rafe had already made the vow. They would be together forever.