The Last Unforgiven - Freed (Demons, #5)

by Simcoe, Marina

  “Oh no.” I gasped. “Why would you think so?”

  “No one came forward to claim me.” He shrugged.

  “Our parents were devastated,” I rushed to explain. “But they didn’t think you were simply lost. We didn’t know you could teleport. Dad firmly believed you were taken. By demons.”

  His gaze froze on me, the dark eyebrows knitting into a frown.

  “Was he unwell? Mentally?”

  “No, not like that,” I assured him. “Dad had a sound mind, despite his fragile physical health close to the end. But considering the circumstances of your disappearance, he concluded . . .” I glanced at Raim quickly. “You know, Marcus. There is much more that we need to tell you about our family.”

  “Later tonight.” Raim nodded, watching the crowd under the tent.

  “UNCLE MARCUS, CAN YOU toss me in the air again?” A little boy ran up to Marcus after everyone had finished their dinner and we sat around a small bonfire in the middle of the yard.

  The sun had dipped well behind the horizon already, its disc turning bright shades of red and orange. Auntie Jennie, along with a group of her helpers, arranged fruit platters and dessert dishes on the table nearby. A few kids crouched by the fire roasting marshmallows. For me, it was still sweltering hot, so I made sure to stay back, away from the added heat of the flames.

  The little boy was joined by another, tugging at the belt chain on Marcus’s hip. “Me, too! Please!”

  “Sure.” Marcus turned to them, a cup of coffee in his hand. “Ready?”

  “Yes!” The two bounced on their feet excitedly.

  “Just step farther away from the fire, honey.” Angela waved at him, as we all stood by with our drinks. She then glanced our way and shrugged apologetically. “He is always careful, but just in case.”

  Marcus moved aside as instructed, then winked at the boys. “Ready?” He focused his gaze on them.

  “Yes! Ready.”

  Suddenly, one of them rose into the air smoothly, about six feet above the ground. Kicking his feet in the air, he laughed in delight.

  “And me! Me! Me!” The other one jumped around below him.

  Carefully setting the first boy down, Marcus made the other one levitate using nothing but his mind.

  “That is incredible,” I whispered in awe.

  “I know, right?” Angela laughed at my side. “I love watching him do things like that. It never gets old.”

  “So, everything he does on stage is real?”

  “Absolutely.” Pride and love shone in her eyes when she gazed at my brother. “He makes it seem like an illusion on stage, but Marcus is the real thing, you know. One of a kind.”

  “How about Vic?” I glanced at my nephew, who leaned his head on his mother’s shoulder looking like he was ready to call it a night. A warm feeling of adoration, still mixed with a hefty dose of disbelief, flooded me again.

  “We are still waiting to see which of his dad’s amazing talents he’ll inherit.” She swept her hand over the baby’s wild hair that didn’t want to lay down, no matter what she did. “He is only nine months old, and they say it takes a couple of years for the abilities to manifest themselves in children. So far, he is just a regular little boy.” She placed a kiss on his forehead as the baby’s eyelids fluttered closed. “I’d better take him to bed soon.”

  “Are you staying in one of the trailers, too?”

  “No, we’re going home tonight, but we’ll be back for breakfast again tomorrow morning. Marcus teleports the three of us back and forth.” She smiled. “Saves us time.”

  The two boys ran our way, with Marcus coming closer, too.

  “Hey, Uncle Raim.” One of them elbowed Raim, who stood next to me. Apparently, everyone was referred to either as ‘uncle’ or ‘auntie’ around here. “Can you toss us in the air, too?”

  “Oh no, he doesn’t—” I started, but Raim had already handed me his plastic cup.

  “Of course, I can,” he replied casually, as the boys dragged him aside.

  “Raim?” I took a few steps after them.

  Before I could stop him, Raim grabbed one of the boys under his arms then tossed him up in the air, at least ten feet over his head.

  “Oh God,” I gasped, dropping his wine. Shock paralyzed me from the inside at the sight of the little boy so high above the ground.

  “Nate!” A female voice yelled from somewhere.

  Not waiting for the boy to come down, Raim grabbed his friend next, tossing him up, too. Both screamed and screeched in delight as Raim caught them one by one, setting them on the ground a moment later.

  “Holy cow! That was cool!”

  “Do it again! Do it again!”

  The boys skipped and jumped around Raim as their mothers rushed to them, throwing cautious glances his way.

  He sauntered back to me.

  “They loved it,” he explained calmly, as I stared at him with my mouth still agape and my heart still beating somewhere high in my throat.

  Speechless, I turned to meet the equally shocked stare of Angela, who came up behind me.

  “Um . . .” she bit her lip. “He’d make a great dad, one day?” she ventured, with a nervous giggle.

  Chapter 22

  I MANAGED TO CONVINCE Angela to put Vic to bed in the trailer that Auntie Jennie had procured for Raim and me for the night. Raim brought our bags from the car, and I grabbed a quick shower in the tiny bathroom, stealing a few moments to also organize my things. I walked back outside to find Marcus and Raim sitting in lawn chairs, Angela curled in her husband’s lap.

  As I passed by Raim on my way to an empty chair, he caught my hand and gently tugged me into his lap, too. I bent my head to hide my smile, but I was certain he must have seen the warm flush of pleasure that heated my chest at his gesture. The closer I was to him, the happier it made me feel.

  “Can I bring you anything?” I asked softly. “A drink?”

  “No. Thank you.” He curled his lip. “I’ve drunk enough boxed wine to last me for the rest of eternity.”

  “You are the biggest snob I know,” I teased. “And I’ve met a lot of them.”

  I noticed the way Marcus and Angela were staring at Raim then realized it had nothing to do with his comment about the wine. The claw-shaped pendant over Marcus’s t-shirt glowed bright in the darkness that had settled after sunset.

  “You told them?” I asked Raim, and he nodded in reply.

  “Is it true, Dee?” Marcus still seemed a bit stunned by the revelation.

  “Depends on what exactly he said to you,” I scratched my ear. “Although, Incubi tend to speak the truth. It’s in their nature.”

  “So, Raim is an Incubus? A demon?” Marcus continued to watch Raim closely, as if expecting Raim to sprout a pair of horns or an arrow-head tipped tail any minute. “And all of us here came from a demon’s union with a human woman, centuries ago?”

  “I have every reason to believe that is true, Marcus. Although, I do realize that it’s a lot to take in at once.”

  “Ingeborg would love to know this.” Angela shifted in Marcus’s arms. “She told me about the family legend that all of you descended from fallen angels.”

  “That is what Incubi are,” Raim agreed. “Though we no longer remember the crime that banned us from Heaven. Our own legend says our transgression was disrespecting a woman at some point, in our previous existence. Most of us believe now that we were sent to Earth to earn Forgiveness through gaining the trust and love of a human woman.”

  “Are you one of those who believe that?” Marcus asked.

  “I was not.” The muscles of his arm around my waist tightened. “On the contrary, I believed getting too close to a woman meant ruin for a demon. However, all of my kind have earned their Forgiveness now, by learning how to love. They proved me wrong.”

  “How about you, Raim?” Angela asked, moving an inquisitive gaze from him to me and back again. “Have you earned your Forgiveness?”

  “No.” His voice didn’t c
hange. “I am the last Unforgiven.”

  “So, um . . . surely not for long now?” She cast another glance my way.

  “We may not have much time to find out,” I replied, steering the conversation away from Raim’s and my relationship and back to the issue we had come here to discuss. “Did you tell them about the urn?” I asked Raim quietly.

  “In a nutshell.”

  “No details?”

  “You didn’t spend that much time in the shower.” He gave me an easy, teasing smile I hadn’t seen many of yet. I let my gaze linger on it, savoring this moment—another good memory.

  “I understand the gist of what’s happening,” Marcus said grimly. “According to you, all of us have about four weeks left to live.”

  “Unless we do something about it,” I replied, the sense of warm comfort from being in Raim’s arms slipping away under the harsh reality of our future.

  “Like break that thing before the old bastard touches it?” Marcus rubbed his face.

  “I’m so sorry to drop it all on you like this.” I moved my gaze between Marcus and Angela. “With so much at stake, we need all the help we can get.”

  “You did the right thing by coming here, Dee.” He focused on me again. “And I’m not just saying it because I’m freaking happy to have a sister now.” A beautiful smile stretched across his face, lighting his expression and making his Incubi heritage of good looks that much more apparent. “It’s been an amazing but extremely overwhelming day. I’m trying to process all of this—you, him,” he waved his hand at Raim, “demons, Incubuses—”

  “Incubi,” I corrected softly.

  “Right. And impending death, apparently.” His smile faded, and Angela soothingly combed her fingers through his hair, moving the long strands behind his shoulder.

  “So,” she chimed in. “According to Raim, the only ones who could destroy the urn are people like Marcus? And you? With demon blood in them?”

  “Yes. If a demon or a pure-blooded human touches it, it will be the end of us all—the Incubi and those who are related to them.”

  “What does it take to destroy it?” Angela tilted her head as her brow furrowed. “What would one need to do?”

  “My plan is simply to lift it and smash it.” I shrugged a shoulder. If the urn was really placed on Earth as a means to protect mankind from the Incubi before they learned the way to be Forgiven, then its purpose had been fulfilled. I believed the urn was meant to be destroyed. There’d be no point in making it difficult to break.

  “What exactly is it?” Angela asked. “The urn?”

  I glanced at Raim.

  “It’s about the size and weight of a coffin,” he replied. “Shaped like a cylinder with tapered, rounded ends. Made from soros stone.” He hooked his finger into the neckline of my blouse, sliding out the pendant on the chain around my neck. “Like this.”

  “It’s so beautiful when it’s lit up like that.” Her eyes on my pendant, Angela stroked the claw-shaped amulet that hung on the leather cord around Marcus’s neck. “Almost everyone here has one, but none have ever shone before.”

  “It’s because Raim is here,” I explained.

  Marcus nodded.

  “That’s what he told us.”

  “I believe I can destroy the urn,” I said. “But the building where it’s located is heavily fortified. There are armed guards in and around it. I will have a whole squad of demons with me to keep me safe. The problem is that because of the amulets, they won’t be able to get inside the building until I make it in and invite them.”

  “It’s truly amazing, how it works.” Angela seemed lost in thought for a moment, her fingers still on Marcus’s pendant. “But you know you don’t even need to go in.” She glanced up at her husband. “Right, honey?”

  “What do you mean?” I stared at her.

  “Marcus can destroy it for you.” Angela waved her hand through the air. “Right now.”

  “What?” Raim sounded shocked. The cool composure he always maintained in public wavered.

  “How?” I faced Marcus, who shifted in his chair.

  “I would need the exact location of the church and that thing inside it,” he said.

  “If you teleport,” Raim warned quickly, “they’ll shoot you on sight.”

  “He doesn’t even need to teleport.” Angela confidently shook her head.

  “How is he going to do it then?” I asked, still surprised but also so very hopeful now.

  “Just like you planned it,” Marcus explained. “By lifting it into the air and smashing it against the floor.”

  “You can do that?” I gaped at him. “Without seeing it? Remotely? Like, telepathically or something?”

  “He can do anything,” Angela stated, keeping her adoring gaze on Marcus.

  “Don’t smash it,” Raim warned. “If for any reason it doesn’t break, your effort will alert The Priory of our plan to stop them.”

  I gasped, realizing what that would mean. “The Elder may then decide to act sooner.”

  Raim nodded.

  “If you can, Marcus, try to bring the urn here, instead.” He swiftly produced his cellphone out of his pocket, opening up the aerial view of the area in the Alps where The Priory was located. “The building is this beige dot inside this square. The last Elder managed to obtain a certain level of security for this place. There is no closer view available.”

  Marcus examined the map on the screen. “Has anyone you know been inside the building?”

  “I have.” Raim didn’t provide the details of his ‘visit’, and I didn’t think it was necessary to bring up his summons, either. Especially since it obviously pained him to talk about it.

  “Can you draw a plan of the church for me?” Marcus asked Raim.

  “Yes.”

  Getting off Raim’s lap, I brought a notepad and a pen for him.

  “Here.” He made a quick sketch in clean, confident lines. “The urn is in the middle of the floor in this room.” He made an elongated cylindrical shape inside a rectangle.

  “Can you do this, honey?” Angela held Raim’s phone with the aerial map in front of Marcus as he took the notepad from Raim.

  “I don’t see a problem here.” He shrugged, making the hope in me grow.

  My heart skipped with anticipation. Could it really be that simple? My superman of a brother could disperse within seconds this huge cloud of doom that had been hanging over us for days?

  Marcus’s eyes sharpened with focus, his forehead furrowed as a frown settled over his face. His long, black eyebrows drew together, forming a deep crease.

  “Are you okay, sweetheart?” Angela stroked his hand with concern.

  He opened his eyes wide with surprise. “I can’t do it.”

  “What?” She gaped at him, obviously shocked, too. “I can’t believe it.”

  To me, the unbelievable would have been if it actually happened. But it must have been new for Angela, and probably Marcus himself, to discover his limitations.

  “It’s impossible,” he whispered.

  “Well, it is kind of far . . .” I started.

  He shook his head.

  “The distance doesn’t matter. See?” Opening his hand, he showed me a small rock in the middle of his palm.

  “What is that?” I wondered what the rock had to do with any of this.

  “It’s from the dirt that is around the urn. I can move that, but not the urn itself.”

  I took the rock from his hand and inspected it closely. Dark and smooth, it looked very different from the reddish ground surrounding us right now. It felt different to the touch, too—cool. The rocks and ground around us had been heating in the sun all day and would feel much warmer now.

  “Okay,” “I muttered, turning it in my fingers. “Why not the urn then?”

  “May I?” Raim slid his fingers to the back of my neck then clicked the closure of my necklace open, taking it off me.

  He held out my pendant to Marcus. “Can you manipulate this?”
>
  The pendant itself was held between Raim’s fingers, but the two ends of the chain dangled freely below. Marcus glanced at it briefly. The ends of the chain rose then curled into a heart shape, with Raim’s hand in the middle.

  “That’s pretty.” I smiled.

  Raim remained unaffected by the miracle performed in front of his eyes. Holding the necklace by the chain now, he let the pendant dangle on it. “How about the stone itself?”

  Marcus’s expression turned into the frown of concentration again as he stared at the pendant for a few moments.

  “Can you move it?” Raim prompted.

  Eventually, the chain twisted and curled in his fingers as if some invisible force lifted it, bringing the pendant up as well.

  “Just the chain then?” Raim confirmed.

  With a slow nod, Marcus admitted, “I can only move the pendant if I manipulate the chain attached to it.”

  “The amulet, just like the urn, is made from soros stone,” Raim concluded. “It is not of this world.”

  “But it very much behaves like regular stone, doesn’t it?” Angela picked up the amulet off Marcus’s chest then let it drop back down, demonstrating the effect of gravity. “It obeys the laws of physics.”

  “Except that it produces light without an energy source—a fire inside that doesn’t burn,” Marcus muttered, glaring at the soros stone.

  “And builds invisible barriers that prevent demons from entering rooms,” I added.

  Raim spoke quietly, “It does not behave like any material typically found in this world.”

  “What if you throw a rock or something heavy on that urn, honey?” Angela’s voice still held hope.

  Raim shook his head before Marcus had a chance to reply.

  “If it doesn’t work, the rock will serve as a warning to The Priory. They may increase security, or worse, touch it right there and then.”

  We all sat in silence for a while.

  “Obviously, the carvings on the urn will need to be followed precisely,” Raim finally said. “There is no way around that.”

  “Which means we will have to go in and physically destroy that thing.” Taking a deep breath, I resigned to the inevitable, which wasn’t easy after the glimpse of hope I just had.