“You dare tell me how to treat my own prisoners?” Boric’s voice drove nails into my spine as my whole body stiffened.
Either he valued the good doctor, or he would end up in chains sooner than later. I prayed for the former rather than the latter because he was a respectable man, and those were hard to find since the Sundering. Chills swept over me, but I dared not move a muscle, or so much as twitch. He didn’t need to lose his head over me. Heavy boots scuffed; someone snorted, and a door slammed shut.
The child said, “He’s gone.”
Slowly, I opened my eyes to the flickering lamplights flooding the room.
“What did you do to him?” the doctor asked, scratching his balding head. “You weren’t gone half a day before Cross toted your bruised and bloodied ass back to me.” He glanced to the door. “Cross said I’d do well to put ya down.”
A slow smile spread over my lips. Defiance radiated and willed me to survive, and I clung to the notion that I’d bested Boric Garland once again.
“Don’t be so smug, kid. I won’t always be here to piece you back together. Even Humpty Dumpty had his great fall.”
Tears sprung in my eyes; laughter rumbled. Damn that hurt, and I would’ve killed for magic, just enough to erase the pain. But I couldn’t draw on my birthright, not even a tiny spark emitted from my bruised fingertips.
“All royals are bound before the ship docks.”
I asked, “Warlock or Elioud?”
“Neither,” he said, smiling.
Ah, that explained much and I nodded. His ebony skin darkened to blue-black. Two small horns jutted from his head; he transformed into a creature spawned in Hell. I tossed my head.
The doctor scolded, “No moving.”
Why did he care for me? His smile revealed sharp, yellowed teeth, and I swallowed hard. Maybe he wanted to eat me. Wait, but he spoke of an oath before. Hell born demons didn’t come until after...
“The medicine is strong. Native American’s called it Peyote.”
“For?” Dry lips cracked as I spoke.
“Pain, but you may see, or hear, some vivid things.”
“Not working very well, Doc.” I grimaced, holding my ribs. “For the pain… you look like a beast.”
“Sorry, it’s all I have left… have to keep… lock…” His voice rose and fell, cut in and out. He jabbed a needle into my arm. “Give a bit more, but you may see things or people who are not here. Do… can… to keep.”
I nodded to sleep, falling into a dream as explosions rocked the ground, and the acrid smoke filled my lungs. Great instead of a beautiful memory of Dorian, I found myself tossed into some hellish nightmare. Coughing seemed impossible, and a damp cloth covered my face. In the distance, my name… people shouted for me, but one voice rang over the others.
“Dorian,” I whispered, unable to scream, and played along, hoping it ended. All I wanted to see: a pair of green eyes and his handsome face smiling.
“Cain!”
God if you are listening to my heathen ass … if I could do it all again, I would have told him everything that first day. He might’ve rejected me and tossed my sorry ass on the street, but my heart said otherwise. Such a fool not to trust him. Dorian deserved a better man. A man who was honest and forthcoming with his secrets, but he found me instead.
Metal clashed against metal. Gunshots blasted. Women screamed. I fought, tearing the cloth from my face. Children cried. Voices yelled, but they came from the hospital wing, not the streets. My body turned and teeth ground against the sharp stabs movement brought on. My eyes opened.
Doc sat in his chair, run through on Boric’s cutlass. The devil loomed over the man, smiling. His dark head tilted. “Looks like a party, mate, but I guess you’re not invited.”
Doc still breathed. His eyes twitched, motioning toward the tray sitting by my bed. Syringes, filled with God knew what, rested on the surface. Peyote maybe, but I didn’t know.
Boric stepped closer, away from the doctor, but his attention trained on the events unfolding outside. With his last breath, the good doctor nodded, and my fingers slipped around two of them. His decapitated head thudded against the floor, and I paused wondering how much of this was a dream. Not that the needles would do me much good, since I couldn’t exactly run away, but if I died today, hell, I would go down in a trip-faced glory of peyote.
“How did you manage to skewer Dorian Fox?” Boric rubbed his chin, his image smearing.
I blinked at his question. Was he jealous of Dorian? If it were not for his sword and voice, I wouldn’t think it was him asking such a bizarre question.
“No bother, he’ll never find you. Too bad I can’t kill the sodden bastard, I can kill you.”
My name boomed through my ears. Dorian’s voice rattled and throbbed inside my head. I inhaled a deep breath, as deep as I could manage, and shouted, “Dorian.” But my mouth issued a cross between a wheeze and a whisper.
Boric laughed at my feeble attempts, but Dorian truly came for me. Boric wouldn’t have killed the doctor; he wouldn’t guard me personally, waiting for the doors to fling open. Preparing to fight.
“If anyone can hear me… find Dorian … Tell him, Cain is in the hospital. Boric is with me.”
“You think they’d approach the madman setting their town on fire? You’re a loon, like your old man.”
“Takes one to know one.” But he didn’t hear my muttered words.
“I cared for you once, loved you more than the others too.” Boric’s tone softened. “As I recall, you loved me as well.”
A snort pinched my chest. “They call it Stockholm syndrome.”
“Then you stole from me.” His knuckles cracked.
“Angelica swiped the keys, not me.”
“You are the Keeper.” Wild eyes reflected in the glass.
I glanced away.
“Think I didn’t know? I’ve always known, Cain. No one knows you better than I do, not even Dorian Fox or your dear mother. Your own father didn’t know. I set him up, let him gamble with the high rollers until he was so deep, he would do anything to pay.”
“You didn’t tell me.” I tossed my legs over the side of the bed. Boric distracted himself with the window again, fire and gray smoke blurring the scene.
“Why would I? We never discussed business. It wasn’t your place in my world.”
“What was my place? You didn’t exactly make it clear.” Had to keep him talking… I stared at my hand, dripping with sweat and still clenching the syringes. My legs wobbled from lack of use, and short breaths followed.
“You were a consort. I never wanted to give you up, but you were my weakness, they exploited it. I was given a choice, and I did what was best.” He sighed. “They said I must, or they would kill you. I couldn’t imagine the latter, so I let you go, keeping you close.”
“Because I am the Keeper?” Did he expect me to believe any of that?
“Partly, yes.” He didn’t turn around.
“And the other part?” My bare feet shuffled along the red dirt floor. I stood close enough to taste his sweat and fear, and my hand rose, hovering centimeters from his neck.
“I love you,” he said.
My strength depleted. Stars attacked my vision, and the spiraled colors swirled into a whirlwind whipping against my face. “Never… loved…”
Haunting laughter cackled. I hit the dirt and rolled; wincing, his boot stamped and crushed my ribs, pinning me to the ground.
I managed thoughts. “Never… find… them.”
Boric shrugged. “You’re unbreakable for a pillow biter.” His leg lifted, hovering. Shrilled voices called for him. “Playtime’s over, luv, but we’ll meet again soon enough in Tartarus. Ta-Ta.”
Fire ignited from his hands, and he tossed the balls across the room. Bottles crashed, spilling their sickening aromas. Heat blistered, and I eyed the seductive dance of flame spreading among the doctor’s medicines.
Boric glanced to me, lip curling. But his eyes glistened, reflecti
ng pain I’d only witnessed within survivors. He turned, drew his shoulders straight, and marched from the room. He left me to die. Never… never about the keys. Boric used them as his excuse to find me, to own me again.
Death: I welcomed its warm, clean, soap-scented embrace. Death wrapped around, lifted my body, and bathed me in a bright, purging light.
“Stay with me, babe… don’t you die on me.”
Dorian’s voice comforted me in those final moments, soothing me toward the other side. Peyote side effect, I was certain, but I wasn’t complaining. “No regrets,” I whispered. “Love you always.”
“Open your eyes… Put that fire out, Raph… Cain, you aren’t allowed to die on me… I’ll bloody murder him.” The words shouted, as if he spoke directly into my eardrum. My slanted eyes burned from the smoke but saw enough to catch the blazing green haze illuminating his scruffy face.
I coughed at the acrid air filled my aching lungs. “Dori–OW”
Strong arms crushed me against his chest. “Shite, did I hurt you?”
I shook my head and blinked the tears away.
“Liar.” Rough hands cupped my face. “I’m putting you where he’ll never find you.”
“We’ve got to go, Dorian.” A man ducked his head around a bend, but I couldn’t focus on him. “Boric’s army amasses, and we’re not ready for that.”
“Lilith,” I said, clutching Dorian’s collar.
“Sorry, babe, we got her first… I’m going to carry you. Gabe flew her to safety.”
I nodded and winced, biting into my cheek; his arms lifted me from the ground.
“Michael, tell Raph to be ready.”
Michael shouted, “Bloody move your arses,” as another explosion ripped through the chaos. Thick, black smoke covered us, and breathing in the tarred fumes dizzied my head. Babies wailed in mother’s arms. Slaves scurried through the streets. They froze in our path, like rabbits, but Dorian ushered the innocents past us and kept marching, ducking, or heaving his shoulder into coming guards. Each movement like a knife through my center, as the drugs wore off, but I ground my teeth and buried the pain. Life would end soon enough. Death saved me in more ways than I thought possible.
We hunkered behind a stack of crates. My head lobbed against his neck, my lips tasting the rolling sweat, tainted with oily grime: petroleum. They were blowing up their fuel source, and the thought churned bile within my stomach. Innocents needed fuel to survive, but I shoved the thought aside. What had Markos preached about casualties?
Black smudges smeared over his cheeks and crimson gashes oozed with the black marks. I whispered, “You should see the other guy, huh sweets?”
“Just a scratch.” Dorian smirked, but his eyes concentrated. He pointed to the two men, who’d flanked us, hunkering behind oak barrels. “That’s Gabriel and Raphael. Long story. You’ve met Michael.” He nodded behind him to the blond...
Laughter gurgled in my throat. I eyed the angelic cowboys. Dorian spoke again, but gunfire deafened my ears, his words drawing in and out over the pops and bangs. Both men produced pistols, scurried across the dirt side street, and re-flanked Dorian on either side. The source surprised me.
Warm metal lined my mouth; pressure built around my nose. So much, I had wanted to say to Dorian, to show him, but the shadows of my soul blinked the world out before I had the chance.
Nothingness engulfed me. No bright light or eternal fire greeted me. Air didn’t fill my lungs; my heart didn’t beat. Voices didn’t sing and no shrieking, screaming agony of the damned.
“Still no regrets?” a voice thundered, and interrupted my observance. “Open your eyes.”
I blinked at soft yellow light filling the small room. An iron gate loomed before where I stood. Quickly, I spun around and saw the voice. My knees dropped to the ground, and I bowed before Hallowed, Markos, and Fauna.
“Keeper,” Markos said, rolling his eyes. “Rise.”
A flash blinded me for a moment, but it retreated. Dorian and his angels returned. Two of the three men held a body, but only one didn’t move. The battered form, beaten and bruised, had survived for as long as possible. I couldn’t tell where one bruise started or another ended. Blood seeped from my mouth, nose, and ears. My spirit, I, drifted to his side. From the hallway, footsteps echoed off the shimmering marble.
“We waited too long.” Dorian stared at the blond Archangel framing the doorway. “Damn it, Michael.”
My fingers stroked Dorian’s face; his lips kissed my dead body.
“I… love… you.”
I said, “I love you, sweets.” Even with all the secrets and lies that part was always true. I turned to the three Horsemen. “What now? How can you see me and he can’t?”
The trio exchanged timid smiles. Hallowed motioned for me. I glanced to Dorian while he caressed my body, whispering words I didn’t understand in another language. Latin maybe or something similar, but he drew me with his tongue as the phrase repeated. The mantra struck a beat, a chord within me. Tingles spread across my limbs, and warmth pulsated from my center.
Dorian’s head flung back, shouting, “Revertor. Reverti. Reversus.” Green eyes bore into me, as if he saw the spirit and not the body. Dorian pled, “Babe, come back to me. Please… if you can hear me… come back.”
Tears poured from my eyes. “How? Oh God, tell me how to go back.”
Hands grasped my spectral shoulders from behind and tugged me away. I kicked and screamed, “No. I’m not ready. I don’t want to go. I want to live, damn it. Don’t take me away from him.”
But the iron gate creaked, and their forlorn faces remained quiet as they tossed me through the opening. The metal lock clicked.
Fauna said, “See you soon, Keeper.”
Chapter
Nineteen
Dorian
Three days later…
Near a tree, I stood in front of the abandoned farmhouse. Neither held symbolic feeling for him or me, but I hadn’t traveled home yet. Flakes glittered and descended from the moody clouds, reflecting the blackness of my heart and soul… mirroring the color of his skin. Bruised, battered, and gone. Three images I had faced as my punishment. “I killed you the moment I fell in love… the moment you’d lied to me and sheltered secrets. And I let you do it.”
Pacing, my footsteps crunched through fresh snow. The barn and empty farmhouse were nothing more than skeletons standing in the wind.
“This wasn’t your home. Happy memories we would’ve made don’t fill the walls. But this is where I lost you… where I failed as a man and an Archangel.” I wiped my cheeks. “No one else knew what to do.” So I had Gabriel bring me to the house. My toes dug through the snow. “I wanted to buy it for you.”
My eyes squinted against the rising sun glaring across the whitewashed landscape. A shiver washed over me. Odd. I didn’t have those reactions to the weather. I shoved my hands into my denim pockets, and I stared at the crude, gray headstone I’d carved. No flesh lay below it.
Bitterness boiled inside of me every minute that passed, and Boric Garland continued breathing. I leaned on the tree. My eyes blazed at the time I had wasted before contacting the Council of Seven, and then again, for not leaving Cain be, for not taking him to Sanctuary and insisting he stay. Instead, I’d insisted, for my own selfish reasons, he stay by my side. Perhaps I didn’t alter from my old ways.
“No one blames me.” I sighed. “Except for me.” I knelt. “Lily is safe. You died knowing your sisters are free. That should make me feel better about your passing, but it doesn’t. I was selfish there too…We moved her to Anchorage, and she’s staying with Gabriel. Not sure how you would feel about that.” Gabe seemed a bit more than smitten, and I grinned at the thought. “Korrigan’s training with Veric for the war. Belle and Mark are following up a lead on the leak in Nova Scotia.” I didn’t know what else to say.
A branch snapped nearby. Footsteps halted behind me, but my body didn’t turn. A compulsion yanked at my seams, but my mind played the dirtiest
tricks on me. My hairs stood on edge. Invisible eyes watched me. Sometimes, his voice called to me, or he whistled a long forgotten tune.
But unlike before, thoughts of destroying the world didn’t hinder me. Becoming the better man that Cain drove me to be consumed my other thoughts. Books and doctors say never to change for another. Maybe they were right, but I’d only transformed back into the man I had once been.
“Why?” Tears fell for… oh, I had lost count. Lost pieces of my heart and soul. My eyes closed, and I saw his grinning face and golden eyes brimming with love and mischief. “Fauna, Hallo, and Markos all hoped I would find closure. I told them our love has no beginning, no middle, and certainly no end.” I sniffled. “I’ll never love again… never thought I could love until you stormed into my life and kicked my ass.” Running fingers through my locks, I trembled, and my face twisted as I fought against the crashing tide. “Cain you altered all my views from life to love. Keeper, revertor, reverti, reversus.”
“Wow. That was some speech.”
My eyes flung open at that voice.
“Who died?”
“Cain,” I whispered, and spun around. “But how?”
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost, sweets.” Cain smirked, but his eyes were as red as mine felt. Colored lights flashed behind him. “Your crazy family is how.” He held up his hand and twisted the ring. “It’s made from St. Michael’s chain and allows me to escape death. Pretty nifty, huh?” He motioned over his shoulder.
Brows scrunching, I still didn’t follow.
Cain turned toward me again. “Dorian, you said it yourself. I’m the Keeper.”
I cupped his smooth cheek and gasped when his image didn’t waver. My trembling hands drew his smirking mouth closer. “You’re real, bloody fucking hell, you’re really here.” My forehead rested against his, but my heart pounded faster, aching.
“I’m real,” Cain whispered, his nose nudging mine. “I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me, Dorian Fox.”
My hands skimmed his sides, brushing against two holsters hanging from the standard issue ABDA uniform.
Altered: A Beyond the Brothel Walls Novel Page 34