***
She expected some kind of hospital, not a cabin in the middle of the woods off the unbeaten path. Dorian didn’t even want to imagine how they managed to transport a person with spinal injuries over the rough terrain, and thought it was probably better she didn’t ask at all. Mostly she just worried that because of his job, Dash wasn’t getting the kind of treatment he deserved.
When they got to the door, however, Dorian realized everything wasn’t what it seemed. There was a panel on the side of the door which Lennox flipped open, and he pressed his wrist to the flat screen. After a moment, a lock snicked back and he pushed the heavy wooden door open—which, it turned out, was made of metal painted to look like oak.
The moment they stepped inside, Dorian’s eyes flared wide. She expected some little cabin with crap furniture, deer heads on the walls, and a fire roaring in the hearth. Instead she stepped onto polished tile flooring, and she was assaulted with a very sterile hospital smell. The walls were white and there was a massive nurse’s station off to her left.
Feeling confused and overwhelmed, she turned to Lennox who was watching her with an amused smirk. “It’s called a glamor. Standard procedure for places like this.”
Shaking her head, she decided to accept that things with her new life were going to be a lot stranger than she’d be able to process for a while. She shoved her hands into her pockets and followed Lennox as he approached a man in his early twenties sitting at a computer behind the desk.
“I’m here for Dashiell Breyman.”
He tapped on the computer, then looked up with a plastic smile. “Names?”
“Lennox Huntington and Dorian Hawthorne.”
“Oh. New Reaper,” he said, peering around Lennox.
Dorian didn’t like the look of him. He reminded her of those Mormon Missionary guys with their pressed white shirts, black name tags, and identical hair styles. She refused to make eye contact, and he let out a small sigh before reaching into the printer and pulling out two name tags with their names and Dash’s room number printed neatly across the top.
“He’s only allowed thirty minutes of visitation time currently. His surgery was last night, so don’t expect him to be very coherent.”
Dorian gulped against a lump in her throat, but Lennox gave her shoulder a squeeze and nodded his head toward a set of stairs that led up. With a frown, she shook her head. “Wasn’t this place one story?”
“Only from the outside.” Pulling her along, they took the stairwell into a narrow corridor and climbed. “I’ve gotten all the updates. He’s doing well. He’s got himself a nice little morphine pump so he’s wankered on narcotics and will be for some time. But he knows we’re coming.”
“And you’re sure he’s not going to freak the hell out at seeing me?”
Lennox stopped and put his hand out to grab her upper arm. “Remember when we were exorcising that man in the abandoned building?”
“Yeah. That’s not something I’m going to forget like… ever.”
“Well you were like that. Inhuman. You weren’t yourself, and neither one of us confused that monster in your head for you. So no. He’s not going to freak the hell out when he sees you.” He gave her a last squeeze before taking the lead up the stairs.
They climbed for at least three stories before they reached the landing, and though Dorian thought she should have been sore and out of breath, it hadn’t taken any effort. Considering the magic in the place, though, she figured it was par for the course at this point, and followed Lennox into the main hallway without another thought.
The place was set up as a mixture of hotel and hospital. It smelled sterile, and there was a nurse’s station at the far end of the hallway, but there were fewer rooms, only about ten in total, and the empty ones they passed by were far more posh than any hospital Dorian had ever seen. Each was equipped with a large bed, covered in a white comforter and several pillows. Light curtains covered the windows, giving off a faint glow to the cream colored walls. There was a dresser in the corner, and a TV mounted on the wall.
Following along, Lennox’s steps slowed as they approached Dash’s room, and before he reached for the handle, he turned to Dorian, his face drawn and eyes watery. “I think I’m nervous,” he said, his voice low and shaky. He let out a laugh and shook his head. “What’s wrong with me?”
“Everything’s wrong with you, you fucking tosser!” The voice from inside the room sounded weak but loud, and it made Lennox jump. “What the hell are you doing, standing in the hallway when I’m all the way over here in this bed?”
“I think if you don’t want him figuring out a way out of his bed and into the hall to get you,” Dorian warned, “you’d better go in.” When Lennox hesitated, she gave him a shove. “I can give you a minute if you want.”
“No, I think he’d like to see you,” Lennox insisted, and Dorian doubted his motivations, but didn’t counter him. She squeezed his elbow, and when he didn’t move, she reached for the door and gave it a shove.
The room was exactly like the others, only there were dozens of monitors with tubes propped up along the sides of the bed. There was a comfy chair near the window just across from the bed where, nestled in the blankets, was Dash. He was laying straight, no pillow propping his head, but the mattress was tilted at an angle so he was a little upright. He was smiling, and looked alert in spite of all the wires attached to his body and the dark circles under his eyes.
“About time, you two.” His eyes narrowed when Lennox didn’t move and. “Are you going to come here and kiss me? Because my legs aren’t working proper at the moment and—”
His words were cut off when Lennox flew across the room, took him by the cheeks, and kissed him full on the mouth. Dorian looked away, giving the couple a few moments of privacy as best she could, and she only looked back when she heard Dash clearing his throat.
“You’re next,” he ordered.
She gave him a small smile, shoving back her nerves. “I’m not kissing you like that, I hope you realize,” she said as she crossed the room.
In spite of the tubes and wires, he lifted his arms and pulled her into a hug, pressing a kiss to the side of her temple. When she pulled back, his hand brushed across her cheek, and she realized he was wiping away a tear. “None of that, okay? I’m too wankered on these drugs to deal with crying.”
Not trusting her voice, she grinned and nodded, swiping her hands at her face to clear the wetness away. As Dash sized them up, Lennox went to fetch a second chair, and before long they were all seated and Lennox was giving Dash the full rundown of the experience.
“Mattie being his usual cheery self?” he asked after Lennox got to the part about Dorian waking up.
Pulling a face, Lennox shrugged. “Mostly. He’s been a bit off lately. Dunno what’s got into him but Markus’ mood picked up once his brother was gone.”
“I’m sure everyone’s mood picked up. Briar with Markus now?”
The two men shared a look, and it dawned on Dorian what the expression was about. “Oh my God. Briar and Markus? Those two?” She hadn’t expected it. Briar was fierce and fun, and Markus was an older man in a suit and tie. They couldn’t be more opposite, and she let out a small laugh. “Like what, in love?”
Dash snorted, his head shaking. “God no. Briar doesn’t fall in love. They’re just shagging. No feelings need apply there.”
Dorian let out a small laugh. “I guess whatever makes her happy.”
A tense silence settled in the room, and after a moment, Lennox slapped his hands on his knees and stood up. “I think we need sustenance. How about some tea? Maybe a sandwich or two?”
“I’m not on the hard stuff yet,” Dash said, eyeing his untouched tray of green Jell-O and grimaced. “Lime jelly, too. Worst flavor of them all.”
“Ah, you’ll be back on your fried rubbish in no time.” He gave Dash a wink, then headed out of the room before Dorian could protest.
The silence became more awkward until Dash let
out a sigh. “I promise I won’t bite. You can get a bit closer. I need to bask in the fact that you survived and you’re sitting next to me.”
Dorian’s face flushed a little as she edged the chair closer, careful to avoid the machines. She still couldn’t help the guilt, which she knew was evident on her face as she avoided looking him in the eyes. “Sorry I’m… still feeling a little weird after everything. My head’s all over the place.”
“Normal, love. I promise you. I’ve seen at least five Reapers come out of their exorcisms, and they’ve all stayed a bit wonky for the first few days.”
“Yeah but I bet none of them…” she started, and came to a screeching halt.
He figured out what she was going to say though, and since she was close enough now, he reached out to take her hand. “I’m going to stop telling you it’s not your fault because you’ve heard it all. It’ll come to you, and you’ll move on. Besides, didn’t Lennox tell you?”
“Tell me…?” she started, but followed his gaze down to the edge of the bed where she could just make out his toes wiggling under the blankets. Her eyes went wide and her gaze snapped back up to his face. “You’re serious?”
“My tango days are probably over, and no more running after you lot, but I can feel my toes, and maybe walk one day. Nurse said I can probably still fuck as much as I want, once I’m all healed up.”
Dorian tried not to pull a face, because she knew how much that probably meant to Lennox and Dash. Instead she reached over, trying to be as careful as she could, and she hugged him. Her whole body went warm as he kissed the side of her head.
“I’m so glad you’re okay, love. You have no idea.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
“Breathe. Feel the energy flowing through your body. Think of it like a river, coursing through your veins.”
Dorian’s eyes were closed, but she could see the orange flicker of the candle through her lids. She wanted to concentrate, to follow Markus’ words, but it was difficult. He sounded like one of those self-help mediation guides. The only thing missing was the sound of rain or ocean waves.
Biting the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing, she took in another breath as she listened to Markus’ shoes tapping on the concrete floor. They were in the basement, where they spent every afternoon trying to get Dorian to focus her powers.
Everyone assumed she was going to be the perfect Reaper. The One. Some sort of savior or whatever, but it had been four months of training on spells and demon hunting, and spending every morning and every night with her eyeballs buried deep in the history and hierarchy of the Community, and nothing. She couldn’t so much as float a candle or sense a demon, and everyone was starting to lose hope.
There had never been an instance where a post-possession exorcism hadn’t led to a Reaper if the person lived. Even the weaker ones could still find demons lurking on the streets, but for whatever reason, Dorian’s powers were absent. Or dormant, as Briar insisted.
“They’re in there, you just have to find them,” she told Dorian at the end of a long, frustrating training session.
Dorian believed her at first. Thought maybe it was trauma, or her body trying to shut things down until she recovered. Maybe she was looking for some sort of balance since everything was up in the air. Right now they were down an Exorcist, Dash was still in the recovery center, and they’d had no luck in their attempts to find Father Stone or, at the very least, uncover what he wanted with Dorian.
But four months later and she’d been able to move a penny across a table, but it had taken so much focus her nose began to bleed and she fainted. After that, Markus ordered her to pull back, work on locating her power from within with guided mediation.
Which is what they were doing now.
Only there was nothing there. Just emptiness. She wondered now, as she watched the flicker just outside her eyelids, if maybe that had been Nic’s final hurrah. Maybe when he wounded her, he was taking her power away.
“Okay seriously, I’m gonna stop you right there.” At the sound of Briar’s voice, Dorian’s eyes flew open and she glanced over to the shadowy corner where Briar stood with her arms crossed over her chest, mouth turned up in a smirk.
“Um?” Dorian said.
Markus, who was leaning over the table on the opposite side of Dorian, looked over, his face drawn and annoyed. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Stopping you right there,” Briar repeated, taking a few steps forward. “Your hippy-dippy, look deep inside your soul crap isn’t working. It hasn’t worked for months. I mean, not that we’re in a hurry or anything since you can’t even find another Exorcist Lennox will work with, but this is getting ridiculous.” She kicked one foot up on a chair, her knee cocked near her chest, and she rested her elbows on her thigh. “We need a new tactic.”
Letting out a frustrated sigh, Dorian rubbed her hands down her face. “Have we stopped to consider that maybe I just don’t have powers? Maybe I’m the fluke?”
They had stopped to consider it, of course, because it wasn’t the first time someone said it aloud. But it was not an option, according to Markus. He shook his head, turning his gaze back to her. “It’s there. You just need to find it.”
Pushing her chair back from the table, Dorian rose. “Do I, though? In all of the records I’ve found spanning centuries back, no other Reaper has had this problem. None.”
“She’s right,” Briar pointed out. “Not a single one. I mean, I might have fucked up a bit at the beginning, but I saw a demon walking around the night I headed back to the safe house after my exorcism. She hasn’t seen shit.”
Dorian felt her stomach sink low, and her throat went tight. Yes, she considered it. Yes, she was halfway to believing it, but hearing Briar say it like that hit too close to home. Briar was the one person she trusted to tell her like it was.
“Can we stop for the night? I’m exhausted.”
Markus let out a string of curses in Swedish under his breath and threw up his hands. “Fine. Do what you want. I’m only trying to help.”
Ignoring the passive aggression, she turned and headed up the stairs. Halfway to the door, she heard Markus rounding on Briar.
“Why do you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Undermine me. It’s my job to get her ready, and it’s difficult when you’re standing there playing on her fears.”
Briar let out a peal of laughter. “Just because you’re afraid your pet project might be a dud doesn’t mean I’m undermining you, you damn—” The rest of her words were cut off when Dorian slammed the basement door. Passing through the empty kitchen, she headed for the stairs, desperate for some time alone in her room.
She rounded the corner in the hall when she smashed head-first into Lennox, who caught her just before she hit the ground. “Whoa, kiddo. You okay?”
Letting out a groan, Dorian righted herself, shoving a lock of hair out of her eyes. “I guess.”
“Bad session?”
She laughed, the tone bitter and angry. “They’ve all been bad sessions. I can’t find anything to work with. Whatever Markus thinks I have, it’s not there.”
Lennox’s face was drawn, and he reached out to touch her, but she pulled away. “Listen kiddo, it’s going to be fine.”
“Is it? I mean fine, so I’m not a Reaper. No big deal. But if I can’t tap into any magic, if I can’t do any of it, I can’t be here. This isn’t the life for me. I’ll be a liability.” Saying it out loud made it feel very real, and Lennox’s eyes lit up with understanding. He got it. It wasn’t just the power, she didn’t care about that. It was the home. A place where she belonged. But she couldn’t keep her feet planted in a world of magic and power when she had none. It was yet another moment of belonging setting her up for an even more painful fall.
“I stand by what I said.” He did grab her arm this time, and pulled her close, turning her face up to look him in the eye. “This is your home and you’re not going anywhere. And there’s somet
hing in you. You just have to find it.”
“Briar doesn’t think so,” she replied, her voice full of misery and exhaustion. “She thinks I’m a lost cause.”
“No. She doesn’t. She’s just trying to get under Markus’ skin because she doesn’t like his training methods.” Giving her a gentle push back, Lennox moved around her, heading for the stairs. “Trust yourself, okay? It worked before.”
It didn’t help her feel any better. With a defeated sigh, she went into her bedroom, kicked the door shut, and fell face first onto the bed. She felt like she could close her eyes and just sleep forever. She was making no progress and with Markus constantly complaining about her lack of drive, she wondered if they’d miss her if she got up and left. They wouldn’t be down a Reaper since for the moment, she wasn’t one.
At least when Nic was screwing around in her brain she had something to offer. Now she was just an average person.
With a laugh, she rolled over and realized how ridiculous that sounded. Here she was, having spent her entire life desperate to be just a normal girl, and now that she was one, she missed being special. “Damned if I do, damned if I don’t,” she whispered to herself, covering her face.
“I don’t think it’s as bad as all that.”
Dorian sat up, startled that she didn’t hear the door open, and she looked over to see Briar leaning on the side of the wall, her arms crossed over her chest. She was regarding Dorian with a calculated expression, then with a breath she strolled over to the dresser, picked up Dorian’s wallet, and threw it at her.
“Get up. We’re going out.”
Blinking, Dorian shook her head. “Um, what?”
The Reaping: Language of the Liar Page 19