A gust of wind blew past Nathaniel, carrying a few dead leaves into the cabin. They skittered across the floor like lost souls. “Not surprisingly, I don’t trust you either. You’ve dedicated your life to the very things our kind was created to oppose. You stole an innocent girl. You’re blocking your thoughts from me. How do I know you’ll uphold your end of the bargain?”
Thomas laughed derisively. “What would I want with a human? You’ll get her back, as soon as the weapons are in my hand and I’m safely on my way out of this backwoods town.”
“It seems we’re at an impasse.” The words hung in the shadows. After a beat, Nathaniel cleared his throat. “I have a suggestion. I’ll put the books and the dagger on the table, and I’ll wait, unarmed, by the wall—away from the door, but closer to my granddaughter. I’ll unblock my thoughts, so you can see I pose no threat. You can take the weapons and leave. Get in Jamie’s car, and get out of my sight. I won’t follow you—I have no weapon, and I would never leave Jamie here for a second longer, even to chase you.”
Thomas hesitated, considering. Finally, he nodded. “Put everything on the table. Move slowly. One false step, and I’ll shoot her in the head.” He turned his body slightly and extended the gun in my direction without taking his eyes off Nathaniel. “Open the books to the correct pages. As I mentioned, I don’t trust you.”
I swallowed hard, staring at the barrel of the gun. Every muscle in my body tensed, prepared to try to dodge a deadly bullet.
Nathaniel only needed four long strides to reach the table. He slid the two priceless books onto the table and flipped through them while maintaining his hold on the dagger. Even in the dim lighting, he was able to quickly locate the pages he needed. Leaving each book open, he turned the writing toward Thomas and pushed them toward the far edge of the table.
With a steady hand, Nathaniel placed the dagger lengthwise above the books. Lifting his palms in a gesture of surrender, he backed away slowly. Once he was against the wall, near the end of the cot, he glanced over toward the open door. “It’s done,” he announced. His gaze flicked to me before landing back on Thomas.
Was he trying to tell me something? My pulse thudded in my ears as I held my breath.
“I’m waiting,” Thomas pointed out. His tall frame was rigid; tension rolled off of him in waves. “Let me see.”
Nathaniel gave him a small nod of consent.
Then everything happened at once.
Thomas howled with rage, lunging for the table. He snatched the dagger with his left hand and barreled toward Nathaniel. “You bastard! You die first!”
Nathaniel tried to dodge him, feinting to the right while his outstretched arms connected with Thomas’s chest. Nathaniel managed to stay on his feet, but it didn’t matter—the qeres-coated blade plunged into the outside of his thigh.
“No!” I screamed, flinging myself forward. The chain caught at my bound wrists and knocked me back.
Suddenly another figure came charging through the open door. Dothan! His hands were laced together above his head; something long and bright protruded from his fists. A knife. The blade flashed as he called out to me, “Jamie! I need your help!”
“I can’t,” I cried desperately, yanking against my restraints. The Fallen angel was going to kill him, same as my grandfather, and there was nothing I could do. Then the familiar pain clawed at my brain, and I understood.
“Yes!” I shouted, forcing my mind open. I focused all my mental energy toward Dothan, and I could feel the strength of our connection, sizzling brightly in the darkness.
Thomas began to turn, brandishing the bloody dagger. As Thomas lifted his arm to strike, Dothan thrust the knife downward with tremendous force. The blade sank into Thomas’s chest.
White hot fireworks exploded in my head as the knife entered the Fallen angel’s body. My eyes rolled back, denying my vision access to the horrid scene. The sharp sparks of agony faded into blackness as my mind revolted against the exquisite pain by shutting down completely.
“Jamie? Talk to me, sweetheart.”
A hand slapped lightly against my cheek, awakening the throbbing in my head. Ow. Everything hurt. Stop it, I commanded silently, a moment before reality came flooding back. I dragged my eyelids open to see Nathaniel’s face hovering above me in the dying firelight.
Nathaniel! I bolted upright, swaying as my aching brain rebelled against the sudden movement. My hands flew up to the sides of my head to hold my skull together, and I noted dully that my wrists were free.
“How are you…alive?” I asked wondrously. Perhaps the qeres left on the blade had not been enough to kill an archangel. My shoulders sagged with relief.
“The dagger was a ruse,” Nathaniel said gruffly. He rubbed the dark bloodstain on his pants. “It’s still a sharp weapon, of course—but not deadly. There was nothing on it. It’s just a regular antique, designed to resemble the drawing in the book. That detail has always been a precaution used to throw off enemies. No special dagger is actually needed to make the qeres effective—any knife coated with the poison will work.”
Every molecule of air left my lungs in a rush as my mind replayed Dothan plunging the knife into the Fallen angel. “Dothan,” I croaked, snapping my head toward the door. He was on the floor, slumped face down next to Thomas’s body. Smoke curled around the knife handle jutting from the Fallen angel’s wound.
“Is he alive?” I sobbed, scrabbling across the floor on my hands and knees. My limbs felt like liquid as I struggled to reach him. His face was turned away, toward the rectangle of woods framed by the open door.
“Jamie!” my grandfather called, racing after me. He kneeled beside me at Dothan’s side.
“Help me!” I grabbed one of his outstretched arms, jamming my knee into the small of his back for leverage as I fought to turn him over.
“Let me,” Nathaniel insisted, gently pushing me away. Despite his own injury, he rolled Dothan onto his back with almost no effort.
I dropped my ear to his chest, listening frantically for a heartbeat, breathing…anything. My cheek rose slightly as his lungs expanded. “He’s breathing!” Oh, thank God. “Will he be okay?” I asked anxiously.
Nathaniel met my gaze, his expression solemn. “I don’t know, sweetheart. He wasn’t strong enough to try that, but he insisted. He knew the risks. He was willing to die for you.”
Hot tears poured down my face, searing my skin. “Because he loves me,” I choked out. Stroking his forehead, I brought my lips to his ear. “Please, Dothan,” I murmured.
“I do believe he does.” Nathaniel sat back, shifting his attention to the other body splayed on the floor. His fingers settled on Thomas’s neck to check for a pulse. “Dothan did it,” he added, almost to himself. He stood, slightly favoring his injured right leg, and hooked his hands underneath the Fallen angel’s arms. Thomas’s crumpled limbs unfurled as my grandfather dragged the lifeless body into the corner.
“And I love him,” I announced defiantly. Please, wake up, Dothan. I love you. I patted his scruffy cheek, mimicking the way my grandfather had roused me.
“I know.” Nathaniel’s voice held the expected resignation, but also the slightest hint of compassion. “Just give him a minute, Jamie.” The cabin door creaked as he closed it against the night air.
Patience was the last thing I could summon at this point. My thoughts whirled inside my pounding head. Should we call 911? No. No cell phone reception here. More importantly, I couldn’t call an ambulance to this scene. And medics couldn’t be involved in caring for my half angel boyfriend.
The memory of Dothan’s last injury floated to the surface like a lifeboat in the storm of emotions raging through me. The bullet wound had healed itself, almost overnight. I flicked my gaze to my grandfather’s leg. Nathaniel’s knife wound already seemed to have stopped bleeding. Dothan wasn’t as strong as Nathaniel, but he was Nephilim. He’d survive.
I clung to that hope, even as I silently acknowledged this was something much different fr
om a physical wound. Still, there had to be something proactive I could do to help him recover.
“Water,” I decided, jumping up. The cabin had running water. I grabbed a red plastic cup and a roll of paper towels off the shelf and darted over to the sink. The chain remained locked to the exposed pipes; my plastic handcuffs lay in pieces on the floor nearby. I shuddered as I filled the cup and soaked a wad of towels.
“Jamie? Are you all right?” Nathaniel asked, his tone tinged with concern. “Dothan said this would be hard on you—that tapping into your mental strength would hurt you. But he said you’d…practiced before.”
“I’m fine,” I said, kneeling back beside Dothan’s still form. “Just a little headache.”
“Neither of us wanted to involve you, but we couldn’t think of another way.”
I placed a soggy paper towel over Dothan’s forehead before looking up. “Involve me?” A hysterical laugh caught in my throat. “It’s my fault all this happened. I got kidnapped and almost cost you everything. Now you’re hurt and Dothan’s…lying here. I’d say I was already involved.”
“It’s not your fault,” Nathaniel said firmly as he lowered himself to the floor beside me. His strong hand settled on my shoulder. “You could turn it around and say I never should have let you and your mother into my life. I’m the one with dangerous secrets. But I was also put on this earth to do good things. Your mom needed a job, and a place to live. And then I grew to love you both, and eventually I couldn’t imagine my life without you two.”
I swallowed painfully. “We loved you too, right from the start.” My trembling fingers smoothed the damp strands of Dothan’s hair.
Nathaniel sighed, moving his hand to press his fingers to Dothan’s throat. “His pulse is strong. Hopefully he just needs some time to heal his mind.”
“What I meant before,” he continued, “was that neither Dothan nor I wanted to put you at risk while we were trying to rescue you. But it was the best chance of saving you without giving up the books.”
Nodding miserably, I changed the paper towel on Dothan’s forehead. A bead of water dropped to the floor like a tear. “I’m glad I could help.” I wished I could help him right now with whatever mental powers I had left. I’d gladly endure the excruciating explosions all over again if he’d just regain consciousness.
A new thought snagged and took hold as I processed Nathaniel’s words. “You two…worked together? To save me?”
He stood, wincing as he put weight on his right leg. “Yes. I closed the shop and went home as soon as Thomas called me, and Dothan showed up at the house shortly after that, looking for you.” Crossing toward the fireplace, Nathaniel reached for the poker and prodded the glowing embers. “I assume you know I can read his thoughts—when I spoke to him at the barn about breaking things off, I could see how much he cares for you. So I decided to tell him what had happened. Since he can’t hide his true intentions from me, I knew he was being completely honest when he said he wanted to help get you back. At any cost.”
At any cost. I squeezed Dothan’s hand, willing him to wake up as I watched his chest rise and fall with shallow breaths.
Taking a page from my book, Nathaniel continued to fill the silence. “The qeres won’t work once it’s dried. Another piece of information Thomas was missing which helped our cause.” He turned and gazed past me toward the lifeless body in the corner. The gun still lay on the floor where it had fallen from Thomas’s hand. “We knew he’d force me to show him my mind, and at that point he’d know exactly what we were up to. But he learned too many things at once to sort it out fast enough. Once he could see I had help coming, he knew he was about to be outnumbered. His main concern became trying to protect himself.”
“I’m glad you didn’t have to give him the books.”
“That would have been very, very bad. But he could have also taken the books and killed you anyway, which would have been devastating. We had to risk tricking him.”
I chewed on my lip miserably. “Are you going to get…in trouble?”
“No. No one knows about this, except for the three of us. And that’s the way it needs to stay. I was able to come up with a story to procure the second book, but I’ll need to get it back where it belongs. It’s too dangerous to have that much knowledge in one place.”
A familiar splinter of guilt twisted in my stomach as I recalled letting Dothan into our safe. But I realized Nathaniel wasn’t trying to make me feel bad; in fact, he was telling me more than I deserved to know in an attempt to keep me from worrying myself into a frenzy. He knew me well enough to understand I needed to talk right now. Otherwise, I’d slip off this precarious ledge of sanity into a pit of shock and hysteria.
“Now that I’m aware of the…situation, I promise I’ll be more careful. With everything,” I added sincerely.
Nathaniel sighed. “I know you will. But you shouldn’t be privy to any of these secrets. We have to be careful about what we discuss, even if you…continue this relationship.” He looked at Dothan briefly before returning the poker to the old iron stand.
Continue this relationship? While it wasn’t exactly a blessing, the phrase gave me hope. If Nathaniel couldn’t condone our relationship, maybe he could at least accept it. A tiny seed of optimism settled in my chest. I removed the towel from Dothan’s forehead and stroked his damp skin.
“I understand,” I murmured. How long had Dothan been out? How long had I been in this cabin, for that matter? Only a faded wooden fish hung on the dingy walls. “What time is it, anyway?”
Nathaniel tugged his sleeve up to check his watch. “One o’clock.” He sunk into one of the chairs. “Once he wakes, we’ll get out of here. I’ll have to come back tomorrow to take care of…” He trailed off, gesturing toward the body in the corner.
Once he wakes, I told myself firmly. Not if. My nerves were on overdrive, twitching erratically. It had been ten hours since Thomas grabbed me. I wondered fleetingly where my phone might be. Sam was probably worried. Then again, it was only a Tuesday night, and she was used to my unreliable cell phone habits.
Dothan’s chest suddenly shook with a deep, rattling breath. His eyes fluttered open.
“He’s awake!” I cried, leaning over him so quickly I almost fell on him. “Dothan?”
“I—” He stopped abruptly, wincing. Then his hands flew up and latched on to my shoulders. “Are you all right?”
Hysterical laughter bubbled in my throat. “Me? I’m fine.” My headache still lingered, but I hardly noticed it at this point. “How are you?”
His forehead creased as he considered. “Okay. I think.” Then his eyes widened and he bolted upright, shifting me sideways. “Thomas?”
“He’s dead,” Nathaniel confirmed, crouching down next to me. “You did it.” He picked up the cup of water and held it out.
Dothan released his iron grip on my shoulders, and blood returned to the indentations left by his fingers with a tingling burn. That’s going to leave a mark, I told myself as I watched him drink greedily.
“Can you walk?” Nathaniel asked. “I want to get Jamie out of here as soon as possible.”
I frowned. “Nathaniel—”
“Yes,” Dothan said firmly, cutting me off. “I can walk. I probably shouldn’t drive, though.” He set the cup down and reached for my hands. A reassuring squeeze accompanied his tired smile.
“We can retrieve Jamie’s car in the morning. For now, I’ll drive us all home.” Nathaniel turned to the table to collect the precious books.
Dothan pushed himself to standing with his inherent grace, grimacing at the morbid tableau in the corner. “Let’s go,” he said, draping his arm around my neck.
I hoped by “home”, Nathaniel meant we were all going to our house. I couldn’t bear the thought of leaving Dothan all alone in his room at the barn after everything he’d been through. But that was a discussion for the long car ride, I decided as we shuffled toward the door. I was ready to leave this nightmare behind.
C
hapter 34
Kneeling by the couch in my living room, I watched Dothan sleep. His hair fell across his face in a messy tumble of gold. The edge of the blanket bunched around his hips, exposing his bare chest. Somehow his amazing abdominal muscles still formed perfect hard ridges, even in his relaxed state.
Nathaniel had been kind enough to allow him to spend the remainder of the night upstairs in my apartment, and we’d made good on our promise to keep him on the couch. At first, I was surprised Nathaniel had given in so easily to my pleas, despite the trauma we’d all experienced in the cabin. Then again, Nathaniel had probably realized we could be alone any time we wanted in the privacy of Dothan’s room at Fox Run. Maybe my archangel grandfather had decided he’d have to accept our relationship and trust us to make good decisions.
But did Dothan want that relationship? When I’d left the barn yesterday, things between us had felt pretty unresolved. Or rather, Dothan’s feelings about our future had been unresolved. I knew where I stood—I loved him. Everything else was secondary.
I reached out, my fingertips hovering over the solid curve of his shoulder. I hated to wake him up after what he’d been through. It was shocking enough that I’d awoke on my own at seven o’clock, considering I hadn’t even climbed into my mom’s bed until the early hours of the morning. But having Dothan asleep on my couch made me a little anxious, and my subconscious must have decided I should get up before he had a chance to see my untamed curls after a restless night.
Now I had a pan of scrambled eggs waiting downstairs, along with a pot of coffee and a stoic Nathaniel. Apparently he needed to speak to us about something important. My stomach churned with an uncomfortable combination of hunger and dread. I couldn’t wait any longer. Besides, Nathaniel wanted to get back to the cabin as soon as possible, to erase all evidence of last night’s horror show.
“Dothan?” I murmured, shaking him gently.
His eyes snapped open as he bolted upright. The blanket slid to the floor. “What’s wrong?”
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