The Last Unforgiven - Freed (Demons, #5)

by Simcoe, Marina

  “And that was what did this,” Andras said slowly.

  My breath hitched at his words.

  I understood he meant no offence. This was not said to blame me. Still, the confirmation that my love for Raim might now cost him his life sliced sharp through my heart, adding to the agony of worry that was already wrecking me from inside.

  “I never told him.” I shook my head, staring up at Andras. The tears welled hot in my eyes. “I don’t think I even knew it myself.”

  His expression was kind, definitely not judgemental.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Ivarr said. “It’s not about the words. It’s the feeling that makes all the difference.”

  “I noticed the love inside you this morning,” Sytrius confessed. “But it’s only when the demon loves back that he is Forgiven. To be honest, I always thought Raim was incapable of loving. He is impossible to read, inside or out.”

  “I never would have thought he’d fall in love.” Ivarr stared at Raim, clearly flabbergasted.

  “He didn’t believe he could ever be Forgiven because he has killed,” I said softly, cradling Raim’s head. “Partially because of that, neither of us has guarded our feelings for each other. I know I didn’t.”

  I had carelessly let my feelings grow, he must have, too.

  “I can see how he’d think that he doesn’t deserve the Forgiveness. He’s drained lives from innocents.” Sytrius’s voice came out uncharacteristically harsh.

  “He’s lied,” Andras added. “Much easier than any of us ever could.”

  “He ordered the hunting and punishment of his own kind,” Ivarr joined in, too.

  Vadim’s expression turned contemplative. “Death is the ultimate redemption for evil.”

  “Stop it.” I glared at them all.

  Their accusations might have been true, but they stirred anger and indignation inside me, nevertheless.

  “I love him, and I don’t care if you think he doesn’t deserve to be loved. If you think him evil then I must be evil, too, because I see so much good in him. I’m not ready to let him go.”

  Bending lower, I kissed Raim’s lips. Their cold stillness was a heart-wrenching contrast to the passionate heat he’d always kissed me with. A tear trembled on my eyelash before falling down on his chin, and I kissed it away, stifling a sob.

  “I don’t care for redemption, just stay with me, please. I love you,” I begged in a whisper.

  “Raim is the proof,” Vadim said softly. “That Forgiveness is truly for everyone. All it takes is the love of one woman.”

  “On any day, of any century,” I whispered, not taking my eyes off the face of the demon I loved.

  Chapter 28

  IT WAS AFTERNOON WHEN we touched down on top of a building in Zurich. A man, or more likely an Incubus judging by his appearance—tall, athletic, and impossibly handsome—rushed to the helicopter, ducking under the rotating blades.

  “Zayne,” he introduced himself, handing me a bag with clothes.

  I nodded in acknowledgement, grateful, but there was no time for pleasantries or small talk. The Incubi I was with were already unloading both stretchers. Unconcerned about any modesty or decency at the moment, I stripped right then and there to my bra and panties, then quickly put on the jeans and t-shirt from the bag. There were no shoes, so I shoved my feet back into the combat boots I had on earlier, rushing to get ready as Vadim and Zayne had already taken Marcus down the stairs. The rest of the demons had changed their clothes, too. Only the small bandages covering their cuts and bruises remained as a reminder of what had happened earlier today.

  Stuffing my dirty uniform and vest into the bag, I ran after the stretcher with Marcus, Sytrius and Andras carrying Raim right behind me.

  “Tell the ambulance you’re the wife and sister so they’ll let you ride with them,” Ivarr instructed me on the way, easily keeping up alongside me. “Whatever you do, do not say your real name. Andras will do all the hospital paperwork for both Raim and Marcus.”

  I nodded, hoping I would remember. My attention was fully on the two stretchers, now being loaded into the ambulance.

  “Madame . . .” One of the paramedics tried to stop me from climbing into one of the vehicles, too.

  “I’m his wife.” I pointed at Raim, scared the paramedic would not believe me or that he wouldn’t listen. “Please. I need to be with them.”

  “Get in.” He tilted his head at the ambulance, and I quickly climbed in before anyone else questioned my right to be there.

  “These are bullet wounds,” the paramedic said in English after the doors were closed and he quickly inspected Raim’s injuries. “A lot of them. Care to explain how he got them?”

  “I believe there will be some paperwork filled in at the hospital.” I remembered what Ivarr had said.

  “The police will be called,” he stated flatly.

  “Good. So, let’s leave the questioning to the police then, and focus on keeping them alive. Okay?”

  I felt incredibly grateful for having the Incubi to worry about the logistics and paperwork. All I could think about right now was that my brother had been shot and Raim was teetering on the edge between life and death.

  At the hospital, they whisked them both away.

  There was the expected paperwork to fill in. Andras did that. The police were called. Vadim and Zayne went to talk with them. Someone mentioned that my statement was also required. Sytrius took them aside and they left me alone.

  Alone, to pace the seemingly endless corridors in the hospital.

  I had no idea how much time I spent doing that. Sytrius brought me a sandwich and a bottle of water. Ivarr came with an update on Marcus that his wounds had been successfully treated, I was able to exhale with some relief at hearing that his condition was improving.

  They let me see my brother briefly. He was sleeping, his skin was pale as always, but a faint blush along his cheekbones gave his face a healthy glow.

  “He is doing great,” the nurse assured me. “No nerve damage. The wounds in his arm will heal soon enough, but he will need a further assessment to see if any physiotherapy is required later on.”

  “Thank you,” I told her as she walked away. I then leaned down to place a kiss on my brother’s cheek. “Please get better soon,” I whispered. “I’m so not looking forward to explaining to Angela how I failed to keep my baby brother safe.”

  The demons joined us, briefly. They then took me away from Marcus’s bed, letting him rest. After that we sat in a small room with chairs and a vending machine, waiting for the end of Raim’s surgery.

  “He did not believe he would ever earn his Forgiveness,” I muttered to no one in particular as my thoughts swirled around Raim again. The worry about what Vadim had said about redemption through death crushed me anew. “This is not how his punishment was supposed to end.”

  “Sometimes, the price of redemption is the ultimate sacrifice.” Andras took a seat.

  “Once an Incubus is Forgiven, his suffering ends.” Vadim explained, his tone suggesting he really believed his words would bring me comfort. “It doesn’t matter whether he ends up in this world or the next.”

  Their attitude reminded me of the way Raim had viewed the impending death of himself and every Incubus before he realized I’d be dying with them, too. People tended to see death as the end of life. The demons appeared to view it as simply a transition from one world to another, the Forgiveness being the catalyst that allowed them to move on.

  Hearing them calmly discuss it while Raim’s life hung in the balance filled me with denial and even resentment towards them.

  “If Raim were to face the Divine now—” Ivarr speculated.

  “He is not going to face that!” I snapped, unable to hear any more of their calm, placating words. “I need him here. With me. I don’t care what you think. Raim deserves not just the Forgiveness. I believe he’s earned his chance at happiness, too. Just like all of you have.”

  They stared at me with surprise and cur
iosity.

  I kept talking.

  “He learned to love back, didn’t he? That is the main condition for the Forgiveness, isn’t it? Yes, he killed, and he lied, and he punished. But he also felt. He has so many emotions, more than he lets anyone see. He feels pain, guilt, and remorse. When he murdered, it was often out of compassion. And when he punished, it was because he truly believed he was keeping all of you away from a greater harm by doing so. His reasons might have been wrong, his actions misguided, and his logic flawed. He is not perfect, by any means. But he cares. He learns. And now, he loves . . .” I wished so much for them to understand it. “And it’s not just me he loves. He cares about all of you, too.”

  “He has a brutal way of showing it then,” Ivarr muttered under his breath, shifting his legs to the side.

  “But he is not inherently cruel, Ivarr, or incorrigible. He wants to do better. After all, he may be dying right now because he tried to protect the future for you and your families.”

  “We can’t do much for him, at the moment,” Sytrius said, his voice and expression somewhat subdued after my speech.

  “Our only hope is human knowledge and expertise, at this point,” Andras confirmed.

  “Well then, let’s hope.” I fisted my hands to keep them from trembling. “All of us. Instead of saying that death would be good enough for Raim. I need him to live. I want my chance to make him happy.”

  “MADAME.” Someone touched my shoulder.

  I rubbed my eyes, shocked I had managed to doze off somehow. Only Sytrius, Andras, and Ivarr remained in the room with me. They sat in the chairs placed along the walls, while I lay with my head in Sytrius’s lap and my legs stretched across Andras’s thighs.

  “I’m sorry,” I muttered, sitting up.

  The nurse stood over me. “You can see your husband, now. He is out of surgery. The doctor already gave a detailed update on his condition to your brother-in-law.”

  My husband?

  My brother-in-law?

  I blinked from sleep, struggling to understand anything she was saying.

  “Vadim will brief you later.” Sytrius leaned to my ear to whisper, “Go see Raim now.”

  “I can see him?” I jumped to my feet.

  “Just for half an hour.” The nurse led me out of the room. “He needs his rest.”

  “He may not be exactly himself yet. The anaesthetic has just started to wear off,” she explained to me on the way. “They removed quite a few rounds out of his body. Some organ damage needed to be repaired.”

  “Is he going to be okay?” I asked, afraid to breathe as I waited for her answer.

  “Nothing can be guaranteed. We’ll know more in the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours.” She stopped in front of a door with a long, narrow glass insert. “The doctor would like to talk to you afterwards.”

  “Okay.” I tried to glance over her shoulder through the narrow window in the door, impatient to see Raim.

  “Um . . .” She hesitated, frustrating the last shreds of patience out of me. “Your husband’s physical reactions to the medication and procedures have had some unexpected deviations that the medical team would like to discuss with you.”

  “All right . . .” I craned my neck again, but still but couldn’t see anything with her in the way. “As soon as I get to see him.”

  The hours of waiting had stretched into an infinite torture. I needed to be near him.

  Finally, she stepped aside, opening the door for me. “Half an hour,” she reminded.

  Raim lay on the narrow hospital bed, his dark-mahogany hair hidden under a cap, the ashen tone even more prominent in his skin, his eyes closed.

  “Raim?” I rushed to his side. A chair stood nearby, but I gingerly lowered myself onto the edge of the bed, taking his hand in mine.

  His eyelids fluttered, but his eyes remained closed. A smile ghosted his lips, though, letting me know he’d heard me.

  I blinked away the tears rushing to my eyes at the sight of that smile, a pale shadow of the ones he had given me before.

  “How are you feeling, honey?”

  “Like a bucket full of lead . . .” he croaked, after a hard swallow.

  Rough and hollow, his voice did not sound like his at all. Somehow, this turned out to be the last straw that broke through my fragile composure. Perched on the side of his bed, I squeezed his hand tighter, unable to stop the tears from falling any longer. A few of them dropped on the blanket covering him. I rubbed my cheeks dry with my shoulder, making an effort to pull myself together—for his sake.

  “Couldn’t be a bucket of lead anymore.” I forced a smile into my voice, even as tears still brimmed in my eyes. “I was told they took all that metal out of you.”

  Finally, his eyelids lifted, revealing the intense blue of his eyes that had always mesmerized me and that I now loved so much.

  “Dee,” he whispered, grinning wider. “Sometimes, I’m convinced that my only purpose on Earth was to simply wait for you through all those centuries.”

  I lifted his hand to my lips, careful not to yank or tangle his IV tube.

  “As soon as you get better, I’ll make sure the wait was worth it,” I promised, kissing his hand. My heart filled with hope and gratitude. Hope that we now had a chance for a future, and gratitude for him still being here, with me.

  My lips tingled with frost. Alarm jolted me upright as I sensed my worry and pain dissipate a little under his touch.

  “Please don’t take anything bad for you right now.” I begged. “You need to get better, not worse.”

  “I can’t stand seeing you upset.”

  “No, sweetheart.” Holding his hand in one of mine, I stroked the side of his face with the other. “I’ll deal with my negative emotions myself. Please, you need to get healthy again. Take only the good stuff that you need . . . Do I have anything good right now?”

  I couldn’t be certain myself about my own emotions at the moment. My insides churned with worry, pain, and longing for him that wouldn’t calm down, but there was also that other feeling—warm, achy, and poignant, it seemed to burst straight from my heart.

  “Better than good.” A series of bright blue lights shimmered in the vivid cerulean of his eyes, shaded by his long, dark eyelashes. “It’s beautiful. Your love . . .”

  “You see it?” My breath hitched.

  We never spoke about it. I hadn’t even recognized it for what it was until today. Right now, I did not ponder over anything, though, simply feeling it all.

  Lacing his fingers with mine, Raim drew my hand in for a kiss.

  “I see, I taste, I feed off it,” he murmured, caressing my skin with his lips. “I can’t get enough of it, and I will never want to be without it. Ever.”

  “How long have you known?” I stroked his jawline with my thumb.

  “I watched it grow all along, from attraction to affection, to . . . love. It was mesmerizing. Incredible.”

  “Raim.” I leaned closer, pressing my cheek to his temple. “You knew I loved you. You knew a woman’s love was the key to the Forgiveness, what would make you mortal. Yet you still went to that basement, alone.”

  His chest rose with a sigh under my arm.

  “I never thought I could love, Dee, which is the main condition for the Forgiveness. I still can’t believe or even name everything I feel for you in here.” He pressed my hand to his chest where his heart thundered strong against it. “Regardless, I couldn’t let The Priory open a hunt for all of you . . .” He stopped for a moment, as if processing a thought. “Us. That would be a hunt for all of us—the cambions and the Forgiven.” He smiled wide, turning his head to face me. “You can’t imagine what a relief it is, Dee. The Forgiveness. It’s the ultimate freedom. I feel as if I’ve been released from a cage. Free to go anywhere I choose.”

  “Can you choose to stay with me?” I gazed straight into his eyes. “Please.”

  “If you’ll have me.” He slid his hand behind my neck, dipping his fingers into my hair.
r />   “Always,” I said, breathlessly, and he brought me closer, catching my mouth with his.

  Soft and ever so gentle, his kiss grew stronger. He skimmed my bottom lip with his tongue, demanding entry, and I parted my lips wider, meeting his caress.

  Hand on the side of his face, my fingers slipping under the surgical cap he still wore to sink into the familiar silky mass of his hair, I savoured every sensation of having him with me.

  With a knock on the door, Andras stuck his head through. “How is he doing?” He quickly slipped into the room.

  “Better, I see,” he answered his own question as Raim and I lingered in letting go of each other. “You’re kissing already.”

  “What do you want?” Raim asked him, finally.

  “We spoke to the police, told them a bunch of lies—unconvincingly, it seems, because they still want to talk with you as soon as the doctors give them their okay, which will be any minute now.”

  “I see.” Raim’s voice turned cool and distant. “You’re hoping I will be able to lie better than you?”

  “I’m sure you would.” Andras shrugged. “But that’s not what we’re going to do.”

  “Oh.” I remembered. “The nurse said the doctor wanted to speak with me, too. Something about Raim’s body’s reactions to the procedures and medications.”

  “Forgiven or not, we are demons,” Andras explained. “Even as mortals, there are certainly some differences between humans and us.”

  “What should I tell him?” I wondered whether I could lie convincingly enough myself.

  “Nothing.” Andras shook his head. “We’re leaving. Marcus is awake and alert. He’ll take us all to Raim’s house. The medical bills have been paid, and the police will have to make do with what I gave them.”

  “Can Raim even be moved in this condition?” I protested.

  “Well, he is not going to be traveling. Just teleporting from one bed to another.”

  “But he needs medical help and supervision, doesn’t he?” I pointed at the IV. “Pain management medication.”

  “This?” To my horror, Raim yanked the IV out of his vein. “It’s not doing anything for me, Dee, believe me.”