In Pursuit of Light

by Sarah B Meadows

  As I place my sword back in its sheath, Seb puts his whip away and grabs the torch off the ground from where I dropped it. I adjust the girl in my arms, so her legs drape over my right arm and her head rests against my chest and I finally get a look at her face. In the dim light, I can just make out what looks to be a fresh bruise marring her left cheek, a cut on her bottom lip and a fading scrape along her forehead. Her features are small and delicate with thin dark eyebrows that peek out from under the dirt that covers her pixie-like face.

  “We need to move. I’ll keep the path clear, Rolland,” Seb urges from my right. Following him back out of the cellar and up the stairway, the need to get out of this hell hole grows heavy.

  Our path is clear till we reach the entrance hall. Seb stops. “Two up on the next floor. I’ll redirect them to the right. You take the left passage and head to the chopper. I’ll be right behind you,” Seb speaks through our mental connection.

  Warm fluid trickles over my left fingers where I’m holding the girl at the waist. The full moon has disappeared behind the cloud outside, taking with it our only light, meaning I can’t see where the blood is coming from. Panic starts to run through me. She’s so small and thin, any more blood loss and surely her heart will give out.

  I finally make it out and see the chopper. Relief washes over me as I see it’s still ready to go. A quick glance around confirms no more so-called guards. As I approach the chopper, I hear footsteps behind me, but I know those footfalls and the energy that’s coming from my back, so I don’t need to turn to see who it is. With Seb just behind me, I feel a small amount of comfort knowing he has my back.

  We’re just a few yards away from our chopper when I feel a sharp stabbing pain in my lower right back. I know I’ve been shot but no other gunfire follows. Shit, that’s going to hurt like a bitch to pull out.

  I keep hurrying forward and jump up into the chopper to a take a seat in the back, hoping it will give me cover from any more bullets. I take a quick glance at the woman still cradled in my arms to make sure she’s secure.

  “Where’s Jack and Brad!?” Seb shouts to Matt through the front seats as he hops in behind us.

  “Brad is still ‘round front, running the diversion he started up. I haven’t a clue where Jack is.” I can barely hear Matt’s tense voice over the noise of the blades.

  Damn, we don’t have time for this. My hand is thoroughly coated in her blood now and more panic rises in my chest. My heart rate picks up and adrenaline spikes through my body. Closing my eyes, I try to clear my mind again. Thankfully some rational thought quickly returns.

  “Brad! Get your big arse back here now! We need to leave, like yesterday, no more games!” Seb’s stern voice comes from inches in front of my face. Peering up at him, I see his cognac eyes have deepened to mahogany and are full of an emotion I haven’t seen for many years. Panic and fear aren’t emotions I associate with Seb. He’s logical, assertive and can stay calm in the most stressful of situations. He’s speaking into our comm unit and his voice sounds as panicked as I feel. His full attention is on the girl, so I take another look down, but my eyes aren't as good as his, which means I can’t see shit.

  “What is it, Seb?” Do I want to know?

  “She’s bleeding out bad and I’m pretty sure it’s a bullet wound. How she’s still alive is beyond reason. I need to remove it so that I can heal the puncture.”

  My stomach feels like it’s dropped out, giving my body another adrenaline hit. Seb’s emotions are leaking through which is unusual for him, most of the time he’s in control of them around me.

  Torn between pushing him away, in need of protecting her and punching him in the face for not acting faster. Why is he not moving to do it already?

  “Why are you hesitating, Brother?” I spit out through clenched teeth. His eyes meet mine and despair is all I can see. “Spit it out, what’s the problem?” Damn the man. I swear I would hit him if it weren’t for the need to keep a hold of her.

  “I fear that the stress of healing her will be too much for her heart. She’s so weak already, forcing her body will put more strain on it… Fuck it, if I don’t do anything she will surely bleed out.” He moves to stand and switches an overhead light on; its glare blinding me for a few seconds.

  After my eyes adjust, I get my first look at her wounds, not just the one that’s bleeding out but what looks to be brand marks, lashings from whips around her shoulders and bruises at various stages of healing. The question of how she is still alive keeps going around in my head like it’s on repeat.

  Seb moves his right hand over the bullet lesion and dips his head in concentration. More blood seeps down my hand as his fingers intrude on the puncture to find the bullet.

  I close my eyes, starting a new mantra in my head to stop the ever-repeating questions. He’s healing her, not killing her. He’s healing her, not killing her. He’s healing her, not killing her.

  “Got it.” His voice comes out strained and is barely audible over my heartbeat pounding in my eardrums. He pockets the bullet and returns his hand to her stomach to start healing the gash.

  The chopper suddenly lurches to the left - no doubt from Brad’s weight. Seb whips ‘round into a defensive stance in less than a blink.

  “What the fuck, dude? I was havin’ far too much fun with them pansies,” Brad’s low voice grumbles from up front.

  With the ceiling of the chopper being so low, it makes it impossible to stand up straight, causing Seb to stand hunched over in front of me. His back doesn’t relax after hearing Brad’s voice and I start to wonder if he’s feeling the same overwhelming need to hide and protect this girl. To kill anything that comes within a one-mile radius of her. This is insane. I try shaking my head to regain some sensibility, but it’s no use this time.

  “Matt! Get us the hell out of here, now!” Seb practically growls as he hollers over the noise of the blades, making him barely understandable.

  “Whoa man, what got up your arse?” Brad calls back. I assume he’s turned back round to the controls as he doesn’t continue speaking.

  Seb returns his attention to the girl, seeming to take a calming breath. We’re both screwed. What and who the hell is this girl? She’s got us both acting as though this is our first mission and struggling with the stress of it. This is usually semi-fun once the dipshits have been taken care of.

  Seb returns to his position of squatting on his haunches, placing his hand back on the wound. The chopper ascents sharply, and I realise the side door is open as a blast of wind curls around my back. Damn, I should have grabbed a blanket to cover her. I try closing my eyes to find my centre.

  Five seconds couldn’t have passed when the side door slams shut. Seb spins back into his defensive position. His broad back and shoulders take up my line of vision, blocking out whoever just jumped on the chopper. I run my eyes over his body to see he's already drawn his sword. Shit, when did he do that?

  “You take one step and I swear I’ll remove your head without a second thought,” Seb snarls with venom, obviously not happy with whoever it is who has just joined us.

  Another wave of panic and possession rears its ugly head making me curl the girl closer to me. I’m torn between putting her down to aid my Brother in killing this mother-fucker and keeping her in my arms where I know she’s safe.

  “You’re not touching her, Jack.” SHIT! Silence seems to stretch on as I wait for Seb to be forced to move.

  “You have my word that I will not remove her from Rolland’s arms, I need to see if she is who I think she is.” Jack’s cold voice never changes regardless of the situation. He’s never ruffled by anything and keeps his mask well in place, so you never know what he’s feeling. He doesn’t mince his words and to this day he’s never gone against them. A fraction of relief comes with his statement yet it’s not enough to relax Seb into lowering his sword.

  “Jack, I will never forgive you if you remove her from Rolland’s arms or this craft. You have my word.” Seb speaks wit
h such passion it’s a wonder he’s not raising his sword to Jack’s throat at the same time. Seb reluctantly inches aside to allow Jack to move forward, then reaches a hand up to find a blanket before shaking it out to cover her small body.

  Jack’s tall frame struggles with the low ceiling, causing him to bend over significantly. His platinum blonde hair is pulled loosely back in one of his leather ties, making his high cheekbones more pronounced. He reminds me far too much of an elf most days, so I’m regularly checking to see if he’s sprouted pointy ears. Plus, he usually seems to dress like one. Whether he’s joining us on a mission, having dinner at home or gallivanting off to wherever it is he goes, I’ve never yet seen him wear regular clothes. His fighting gear usually consists of leather type material, though it’s questionable if it is leather or not. Everything hugs his fit body closely, from his boots that nearly reach his knees, to his dark jacket which he wears under a cloak. If beauty were to be associated with a man and remain masculine, it would be Jack. His icy blue eyes always remind me of the clear skies of Sweden. Cold, crisp, hard, yet stunning at the same time. There’s not a mark on his porcelain skin from the sun or the fights he’s been in.

  He doesn’t meet my gaze as his eyes are drawn immediately to the girl in my arms. Drawing her closer to me as he moves toward us, I have to force myself not to turn my back on him.

  Following his line of vision, I can see a small mark behind her left ear, about the size of a fingernail. Grime and dried blood cover the mark, but it’s there. It looks more like a birthmark than a tattoo. If I had to guess what it is, I’d say it was an atom or particle of some kind. The nucleus isn’t round but instead shaped like a small tiny star.

  Raising my eyes up to look at Jack, I still see only his usual stoic mask.

  “Impossible,” he whispers so low that if I hadn’t seen his lips move, I would’ve sworn he had never spoken. The next time he speaks, he does so that Seb can hear him over the noise of the engine. “I need to see if she is unconscious or…” He doesn’t finish but raises his hand and places it on her head, closing his eyes. A few moments later he makes a small grunting sound and I see his brow furrow in concentration.

  My eyes skip to Seb to see if he’s noticed. He’s watching Jack’s every movement.

  “Seb, what the hell is going on? He never takes this kind of interest or reacts like this when he pokes about in people’s minds.”

  “I don’t know, but I’m five seconds away from removing his pretty blonde head from his stiff pretty shoulders,” Seb grinds out as he continues to glare daggers at Jack.

  We hold our breath as we wait to see what Jack will do. He remains stooped over, his hand still on her forehead and as I watch, the line between his eyes deepens further. I’ve never seen him concentrate this hard on anything before.

  He finally opens his eyes, straightening a fraction within the small space. Seb lowers his sword slightly for the first time since Jack has stepped onboard. Jack moves away from us slightly where there is more room for his tall frame, while Seb resumes his stance in front of me, meaning I can’t see shit… again.

  “She should not be here,” Jack begins. There’s something in his voice this time, something I’ve never heard from him; an emotion tinges his words. Confusion maybe? I feel no emotion from Jack as usual, no surprise there. So, the slight emotion seeping from his words pricks my attention and I wish Seb would move so I could watch his face for any clues. A useless notion as Jack never reveals anything that he wishes to keep hidden, but it would ease my mind to know what’s going on.

  “She has built walls within her mind, so strong I have not seen anything like it since… a very long time. What is left of her mind on the surface is just a shell of who she truly is.” I know he’s leaving out information like he usually does, only revealing what he knows to be certain.

  Damn Seb for standing in the way. “Seb, move your fat arse.” He doesn’t even acknowledge me.

  “She has fragmented her mind to protect it from someone or something.” Jack must have moved forward again as Seb’s back stiffens, his sword raising a few inches.

  “Her physical state is part of what keeps her where she is. Do not heal her, Sebastian, as her body does not have enough nourishment or energy to restore itself.” There’s a small pause before he continues. “Meet me in Sebastian’s room, Rolland, once you have returned.”

  Seb relaxes entirely and spins on the spot, running his eyes over her as though searching for something. The torture in his eyes is maddening, but Jack is nowhere to be seen, thankfully, as he will have teleported back to the house. I watch as Seb pulls a first aid kit down from a cabinet above. I didn’t even know there was one up there.

  “Fucking pompous dick. Do not heal her, Sebastian. He may as well have told me not to breathe,” Seb grits out as he lifts the blanket and starts gently cleaning the other cuts he can reach. I don’t feel any more blood running down my hand, so he must have closed the wound up enough.

  My mind is still spinning with what Jack said or what he didn’t say. ‘Has not seen anything like it since,’ Since when? The pompous prick has been with us for just over a hundred and fifty years. He’s the oldest of us, so he’s probably pushing a thousand years, though he’s never told any of us anything about himself. The prick is invaluable and to say he’s unreliable is an understatement, but he’s never steered us wrong on information.

  The remaining ten minutes of our journey feels like an eternity. Once Seb has finished, he sits down opposite me full of agitation as his legs bounce up and down as though he wants to pace but can’t. His combat gear is similar to mine, both of us wearing dark leather trousers and long-sleeved tops. The heat from the summer makes it hard to wear anything thicker, plus we heal relatively fast, so there’s no need for protective gear over the top. Seb prefers lighter boots to my heavier ones, as they aid him in climbing and balancing along narrow ridges. The look of torture is still within his eyes. Knowing he can heal every broken bone, wound and bruise but not being able to will be tearing him apart. At least he’s sheathed his sword. His dark hair is taking the brunt of his frustration now. Every time he stops to look up, he runs a hand through his hair as though to give him something to do. I’m thankful that I have her in my arms, like salve on an open wound. Am I going crazy? I don’t know this girl and the feelings are as strong, if not stronger, than those I have for my brothers. Loyalty, protection, familiarity and a sense of home flow from her, yet I haven’t even seen her open her eyes or heard her speak. Looking down at her neck again to watch her pulse, I see several bruises that look like finger marks that travel the width of her throat. I wonder how damaged her vocal cords are?

  “Rolland, are you hurt? There’s still blood dripping onto the floor and I’m pretty sure all her open wounds are covered.” Seb’s tense voice tugs me from my thoughts.

  Damn it. I was hoping to pull the bullet out myself, but I won’t get a chance if Jack’s going to dive straight into poking around her head. I glower back at him and don’t say a word. For the first time since stepping on board the chopper, I see his eyes change from torture to amusement. He knows I hate him poking around and healing me.

  “Show me.” It’s not a request but a demand.

  Fucking twat. I swear I’ll get him back for this. Turning slightly in my seat, I show him my back where the bullet is still embedded. He steps over and squats at my side. I’ve had worse injuries but it’s still a bitch to have a bullet pulled out without any liquor to dull the pain.

  “Don’t be such a pussy, Rolland, it’s just a flesh wound.” Mirth tinges his words, but he’s still as full of worry as I am.

  “Just be quick about it,” I mutter, closing my eyes. I try finding my centre to help distract myself from the pain.

  Finding my centre is natural after years of practice. At first, it was like trying to fall asleep while high on twenty shots of caffeine. It’s what most people would call meditating, though on a slightly more profound level.

  �
�Rolland, I think the bullet was laced with something, it’s different to the one I pulled from her.” Seb’s husky voice soon breaks through and I find the pain in my side has eased considerably. I open my eyes to find him looking at both bullets with a look of puzzlement on his face. “I’ll give them to Matt to take a look at later, see if he can trace them. What’s more worrying is what the bullet itself contains. I need to pull whatever substance was in the bullet out of your blood before I can heal it.” He finally looks back up at me, scowling with despondence as he runs his eyes over my face. He pockets the bullets while waiting for me to reply.

  “Just leave it a few hours, you can play doctor later once we’re back at the house.” He nods as he runs his eyes over the girl before rubbing a hand over his face as though trying to rid an unwanted thought from it. He then moves back over to the other side of the chopper to resume his brooding.

  “That’s us home guys.” Matt’s dry voice comes through the speakers overhead.

  Shit, we haven’t told Matt and Brad about her. My eyes meet Seb’s and a silent understanding passes. Seb has the door open before we touch down, giving me a chance to get ahead before Matt or Brad can ask questions.

  From the rooftop where the landing pad is, I make my way down the steps and through the house toward the west wing where Seb’s room is. It takes more time than I would like. Opening doors while holding something as frail as her body is harder than I thought. Seb’s footfalls catch up with me and he’s soon two steps ahead making the process easier. We finally get to his room where Jack is already waiting.

  Seb’s room is spacious with a king-sized bed in the middle facing the en-suite to the right. It has a cosy feeling with all of the mahogany furniture and the light shades on either side of the bed that give a softness to the room. Soft rugs break the solid wood flooring and the pictures he’s collected from travelling dot the walls.