The doctor ended his examination of the machine with a final check on the leads attached to Daniel’s body, a puzzled glance at the green-and-black monitor, and a shake of his head. “I don’t get it.” He hooked the stethoscope into his ears and leaned over Daniel, disappearing from Faith’s view.
She stood on the sidelines, tears streaming down her face, her breath shallow and pained.
We’re sorry. There’s nothing we can do.
Massive trauma.
Internal bleeding.
“Is he … Oh, my God, is he—.” She swallowed, the word sticking in her throat. “Is he … getting worse?”
“I don’t believe this!” the doctor exclaimed. “Look at him. Look at his eyes. I just don’t believe it.”
“What?” Her voice was a strained whisper. While she didn’t want to hear the worst, she also hated not knowing. “Just go on and tell me.”
“I’ve been treating trauma cases for twenty years and I’ve never seen anything like this.”
“What?” she blurted, and a half dozen heads finally swiveled in her direction.
“This,” the doctor said, a bewildered expression on his face as he motioned her forward.
The crowd parted, leaving her a clear trail to Daniel’s bedside. She stared between two nurses to see Daniel, his eyes wide open, alert. The bruises mottling his face seemed pale now, the swelling that had distorted his features not as pronounced, almost as if the healing process had already begun.
Impossible.
“By all rights this boy should be dead. And even if he was hanging on by a thread, under no circumstances, I repeat, no circumstances, should he be wide-awake. He had a massive brain hemorrhage, and,” the doctor said, checking several switches and knobs on the respirator, “two collapsed lungs. Or at least he did…. This just isn’t possible.”
Murmurs echoed the doctor’s denial, yet no one could ignore the teenage boy who lay wide-awake on the bed before them.
Daniel lifted his hand then, to everyone’s astonishment, and reached out. “Faith,” he rasped, despite the respirator tube that hindered his speech.
Hot tears spilled past her lashes as she stepped forward and took his hand, felt his chilled fingers curl around hers.
“I need another CAT scan, an MRI, new blood cultures….” The doctor barked out orders to the shocked medical team.
But Faith didn’t need new tests to prove what lay right in front of her. Daniel was alive. Alive.
“It’s a miracle,” one of the nurses said, crossing herself as she held on to a small crucifix dangling from around her neck.
The doctor simply shook his head and hustled everyone off to carry out his orders. “I’m not saying anything one way or the other,” he told her when she raised questioning eyes to him. “I want test results first.” Then he turned on his heel and disappeared.
“You’re going to be okay,” she told Daniel, stroking the hair back from his bruised face, all the while holding his hand. “I promise.”
He nodded, a peaceful look creeping across his features. His eyes closed then and he fell asleep. The heart monitor pulsed with a steady beat. His chest rose and fell in a relaxed rhythm, and Faith knew that she’d told him the truth.
He was going to be all right.
I promise. Jesse’s words echoed through her head, her heart, and she knew that somehow, some way, he was responsible for Daniel’s quick recovery.
The reality of all that they’d shared in the moments before Daniel had been spotted on the roof came rushing back to her. Jesse had died, and he’d come back.
But how? The possibilities whirled in her brain, but none of them made any sense. She needed to talk to him, to understand what had happened.
She found Bradley asleep on the sofa in the waiting room, surrounded by a half dozen slumbering kids. A light tap on his shoulder and he started.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she told him. “Absolutely nothing.” Then she went on to explain Daniel’s seemingly miraculous recovery.
“So he’s out of the woods for sure?”
Faith nodded and gave him a quick hug before sweeping another gaze around the room crowded with sleeping kids. “Where’s Jesse?”
Bradley shrugged. “I saw him take off maybe five or ten minutes ago. Right after he looked in on you.”
“I thought he was coming out here to sit with you and the kids.”
Bradley shook his head. “No. I figured he told you he was leaving.”
“He didn’t say a word, not even good-bye.” As the last word slid past her lips, the truth hit her like a two-by-four. She sank down to the sofa and buried her face in her hands.
And she knew then that Jesse had, indeed, said good-bye to her.
Everything will be all right…. I promise…., he’d said. And he’d kept his promise.
It’s a miracle.
Her mind rifled back through their last conversation, to the glittering in his eyes. The light …
I’ve been sent here to renew your faith in life. To make you love and care again. I’ve been sent….
An angel.
Images flashed through her mind from the past two weeks—Jesse arriving on her doorstep out of the blue; Jesse with eyes that flickered with such an intense light; Jesse, who climbed into her head and knew her thoughts; Jesse, who felt her emotions. Jesse.
More than a man. An angel.
“I think I know where he went.”
Faith glanced down through tear-filled eyes to see Trudy standing beside her.
“You do?” She dashed away several tears, hope blossoming.
Trudy nodded. “I mean, I don’t know exactly, but I’ve got a pretty good idea. I saw him take off. He seemed sort of upset, kind of out of it, you know? He had this look in his eyes…. I saw it once before back at my place when he came there the first time.”
“That old apartment building he found you in?”
Even before the girl nodded, Faith knew the answer. It was Jesse’s building. The place where he and his brother and Jane had been attacked. The place where Jesse and his brother had died.
And though Faith didn’t know for sure what was about to happen, she had a good hunch. Jesse had called himself a messenger. A delivery boy. An angel packing a miracle.
Tonight he’d delivered that life-renewing, faith-reviving, hope-inspiring miracle. And now …
“No!” The word slid past her trembling lips at the same time she bolted to her feet. She all but ripped the Suburban keys out of Bradley’s pocket before rushing out of the hospital, Trudy beside her.
Jesse was leaving her. And though she had no clue as to what she could do to stop him, to hold on to him, she had to try.
Climbing behind the wheel, she slid the key into the ignition, gunned the engine, and gripped the steering wheel for a long, desperate moment.
And for the second time that night, Faith closed her eyes and did the only thing she could. She prayed.
When Faith rolled to a stop in front of the old building, she saw Jesse’s motorcycle parked a few feet away, and her breathing all but stopped. Before the engine could rumble and die, she told Trudy to stay put, and rushed up the front steps into the vacant shell that reeked of death and desperation and hopelessness.
But Faith wasn’t hopeless. Not yet. Not until she could see with her own eyes what waited inside.
Then …
She wouldn’t think about then. Only now. This moment. She hurried up the decaying staircase to the third floor, down a darkened hallway, past strips of wilted yellow crime-scene tape. Her heart grew heavy with each step, and all but stopped beating the moment she reached the threshold of apartment 3B.
Jesse knelt in the far corner, his face tilted heavenward, and it was nothing short of heaven that opened before him.
A white hole gaped through the blackness, sending shimmers of cascading light down around him, a bright halo that surrounded his entire body, cradling him, calling him home.
T
he realization sent a burst of fear through her and she lunged into the room, to come up short only inches away from the circle of light, as if an invisible wall separated them, keeping her from reaching out, from grasping his hand. From keeping him here with her.
And Faith knew then that this was truly good-bye. His mission was over, his miracle delivered, and he was on his way home.
Her mouth opened and a keening wail exploded from deep inside her. A cry for mercy. For life. For Jesse.
“Please!”
Jesse barely heard Faith’s anguished voice through the heat that consumed his senses. At first he thought it was his imagination, but then he heard it again, like a desperate, fervent prayer slicing through the encompassing silence to shatter the peace inside of him.
“Don’t leave me, Jesse! Please!”
But he had to go. Even though his heart begged him to turn away from the light, he couldn’t. It was stronger, so consuming, and so promising.
Peace. The brilliance whispered the first of its heavenly offerings. An eternity of peace.
But Jesse had found peace on earth. Inside of himself. In the warm comfort of Faith’s arms, in her smile, in her soft voice.
Forgiveness, the light offered. A chance to see your brother and sister again, to speak the words and ask their forgiveness.
But he’d already found forgiveness, too. Inside himself.
Love. The light played its trump card. A never-ending love that doesn’t walk away, turn its back, die. A love that lasts forever.
But Jesse had already found that, as well. A love greater than any he’d ever known. The emotion burned as fiercely as the light, as brightly, but it wasn’t on the outside, surrounding him; it was inside, filling him, gaining in intensity with every moment that passed.
“Please!” He heard the frantic plea again, but it wasn’t Faith. It was his own voice, his own heart pleading for mercy, for life. “Please!”
The light seemed to dance in a million points of dazzling heat, as if gathering energy, ready to envelop Jesse and take him forever.
But Faith was ready for a fight. She gathered her courage, her strength, and threw herself forward. “I won’t let you take him. You can’t just send him to me and take him back. I need him. I need him!”
As if the invisible barrier couldn’t hold up under her words, it crumbled into nothingness and she fell forward onto her hands and knees. Then she started to crawl, tears streaming down her cheeks.
“Stay with me,” she cried with trembling lips, and the sound of her voice finally drew Jesse’s gaze. Their eyes locked and the white-hot light of his stare flickered, dimmed, faded into a familiar brown, and she knew he was still a part of this life. For now.
“Please,” she begged, reaching out into the shimmering circle of white brilliance.
It was like thrusting her hand into an oven. Fire licked over her skin, searing her for all of five seconds. Then it was as if she became accustomed to the blazing onslaught, drank in the heat, craved it.
Warmth surged through her whole body, pushing away the chill of mortality, sending fear and pain and sadness scurrying for their lives. A wave of happiness swept through her, followed by peace and serenity, and Faith longed to close her eyes and give herself up to the incredible sensations.
Yet she didn’t so much as blink. She kept her gaze fixed on Jesse’s, begging him to resist the light, as she was.
It wasn’t their time, she thought fiercely. She had a lot of living left in her, a lot of kids to save, and she wanted Jesse by her side, living and sharing and caring. The two of them.
“Please,” she begged again, but the word wasn’t directed at Jesse. She begged the light. Fate. The powers that be. “I love him,” she whispered, tears splashing down her face. “I love him.”
As if the words triggered something, Jesse’s eyes darkened even more and he leaned forward, closing the few inches that separated them. His fingertips touched hers, and the light faded to a pinpoint that winked once, twice, then vanished into the blackness overhead.
But the warmth remained. The inner heat that had touched her soul. It coursed through Faith, into Jesse, and back, like an invisible current connecting them, binding them together as one.
They were one, she realized, crawling forward, collapsing in Jesse’s arms.
He was hers and she was his.
“I love you,” she whispered against the hard wall of his chest. “I love you.”
“And I love you.” Jesse stared down at the woman snuggled in his arms. A man’s arms. That was all he was now. A man. He felt it in the pulse of blood through his veins, the frantic thud of his heart—his own, not hers. There was no more emotional link with her, other than their love.
His gaze snagged on his right hand, the skin now smooth and tanned, sprinkled with dark hair. For a moment, to Jesse, all was right with the universe. The scar was gone. Faith was in his arms, her love mingling with his own, filling his heart.
And as he held her, he knew with an unwavering certainty that no afterlife could be better than what he held right here in his hands. His woman, his love, his … heaven.
The hospital was buzzing with excitement when Faith and Jesse walked into the intensive-care unit a half hour later. The news of Daniel’s miraculous recovery had spread like wildfire. The doctor had been forced to post a NO VISITORS ALLOWED sign on Daniel’s door to cut down on the number of well-wishers and Curious Georges who kept disturbing his rest.
“He’s sleeping, but you can look in on him,” the doctor told Faith when she found him in his office several minutes later, perusing the previous results of Daniel’s initial tests. “Just keep it short.” He wiped a hand over his tired eyes as he drank in page after page. “I still don’t understand….”
Jesse smiled, his fingers tightening around Faith’s as they headed down the hall to the boy’s room.
“Daniel—” The words choked in her throat as she stared at the empty hospital bed, the covers thrown back. Empty.
“Maybe he’s out having some of those tests the doctor ordered,” Jesse offered.
She shook her head, dread churning in her stomach. “It’s the middle of the night, and you heard the doctor say he was here asleep. Unless …” Dead. The word pushed into her conscience and accelerated her heartbeat.
It couldn’t be. Not after all this. But then maybe that was the price for Jesse’s return to humanity. Maybe that rendered the miracle null and void—
“No.” As if he’d read her thoughts, Jesse’s denial rumbled in her ears. “I’m sure there’s another explanation. Stay here while I get the nurse.”
Faith leaned over the bed railing and rested her hand in the indentation where Daniel’s head had been. Warmth seeped into her fingertips and her eyes burned.
“Daniel,” she said softly, the name a prayer on her lips.
But it was too late for any more prayers. Faith knew in her heart what had happened. She had been given Jesse, but at a price. Daniel’s life.
A movement outside the window caught Faith’s attention and she moved around the bed to stare through the thick glass, out into the fog-shrouded night.
She saw him then, and the sight made her blink her eyes.
Once, twice, but he was still there.
Daniel stood outside on the ledge, a ghostly apparition in the white hospital gown that trailed down past his knees. His head was tilted back, his gaze fixed on the sky.
Déjà vu washed over Faith and she saw him as he’d been on top of the Marbury Building, a hairbreadth from jumping.
Panic swamped her and she searched the glass, looking for a way to open the window. Nothing. There was no latch. No way out. Her gaze skittered to the left and she spotted the intercom. She reached for the button to call the nurse, a heartbroken whisper passing her lips.
“No!”
She saw him turn then, as if he’d heard her through the thick glass. Her hand stalled in midair halfway to the nurse’s button, the light in Daniel’s eyes freezing
her to the spot. She’d seen the same light in Jesse’s eyes. The same light surrounding him only a short time ago: A heavenly light.
As that thought dawned on her, Daniel smiled, then turned his gaze back heavenward. The mist seemed to come alive then, swirling around him, embracing him. He blended into the fuzzy grayness as if he’d always been a part of it.
“No!” Jesse’s voice echoed her own and she felt him behind her, staring over her shoulder at the empty spot where Daniel had been standing.
Faith blinked frantically, but the boy didn’t reappear. Surely he’d jumped. He couldn’t be here one minute, gone the next.
Yet deep inside she knew he hadn’t jumped. He hadn’t so much as moved a muscle. He’d simply stood there, then poof! Nothing.
Her gaze caught a twinkling reflection in the window. She turned to see her friendship charm lying on the wrinkled sheets covering the hospital bed.
Immediately, her hand went to her throat. She must have dropped it earlier—
The thought stalled as she found the warm metal of her own charm. With trembling fingers, she picked up the charm from the bed and cradled it in her palm. It was identical to the one she wore, down to the familiar initials engraved on the back. J and F … Friends forever. Jane and Faith. She was staring at Jane’s charm.
Impossible!
Jane had been buried with her half of the friendship circle. Faith had placed it in the coffin herself.
She blinked the tears away and gazed into the gold half circle. Reflected in the charm was Daniel’s smiling face as she’d seen him a moment ago. His eyes twinkled blue fire, then faded.
The image blurred and Faith found herself staring at a girl’s image. Jane …
Tears blurred her eyes, blurring the image, but Faith didn’t need to see any more. As if she’d fit the missing piece into a puzzle, she stood back and surveyed the final picture. As crazy as it was, it made perfect sense.
All along Jesse had thought he’d been the one sent to renew Faith’s hope, but Daniel had really been sent to save them both. To make them feel again, care, share, believe, and most important, to show them how precious life was.
Faith had earned a miracle with all her nurturing, and apparently Jesse Savage had earned his own miracle as well. Daniel had been the delivery boy, the Cupid to bring two lonely people together and show them the meaning of love.
Faithless Angel Page 29