He fought to hold on, one of his wings snapping close to his back. With that wing shredded, the other bore the sudden brunt of all that water pressure and his weight along with what he carried. If he had thought he was in pain before, this was sheer, unadulterated torture.
His mind fought to hang on through the onslaught of anguish. Tears were torn from his eyes, mixing with the water to vanish into nothingness as he was whipped and jerked wildly as he tried in vain to keep his wing unfurled. The other wing was wrenched and jerked and twisted, his black blood running freely from the many rips caused by mangled bones. At last the second wing gave out and they were plummeting, both wings now shredding in the sheer force of the fall.
They impacted on the edge of the coral ring and a piece of coral was driven into Abaddon's back. It drove in through his chest and came out the front of his shoulder. He gave an inarticulate scream as it bored through him, but he realized that it was a piece that was already dead.
For long moments, he hung there, his feet sinking into the sand. At last, groggily realizing his danger, he pulled until his feet finally popped out of the sucking sand. Then, he dug them in again, leaning forward until the piece of coral snapped.
Then he headed the direction that he'd seen the majority of boats go. He could only hope that he would arrive on dry land somewhere. His mind awash in a sea of misery, he focused on keeping his grip on his precious burden and putting one foot before the other. His energy, already low, flagged. Sometimes he walked and sometimes he climbed, fumbling to dig into mighty stones and drag himself and his precious burden upwards.
Blood from his wings left a billowing black cloud behind him as the water continually tugged on them. Finally he was pulled from his feet by the ravaging water. Agonized, he knelt where he'd fallen, until at last he put Sarah down and reached back, taking one of the tattered wings in his hand. With a powerful jerk and another inaudible cry, he ripped it free.
Then, barely able to lift it with the coral still in his chest and shoulder, he reached his other hand over and grasped the other wing. As if to torture him more, that one took three agonized jerks to free.
Now bleeding even more profusely, he picked Sarah back up. If he made it to land, he knew now, he would not live to see the birth of his fifty-seventh son. The chances of him making it to land were dimming by the moment as the minerals that made up his body were slowly siphoned away by the relentless water. It would not release its coveted prize.
Clutching Sarah, he staggered onwards. Hope was dying by the minute, and he lost more of his life to tears he couldn't stop. The only consolation was that they would die together. Darkness fell and he continued on, stumbling every couple of steps. Finally, he stood for long moments, swaying. He took another few steps, dimly aware that he was falling.
Chapter 15
Sarah became aware of the voices again. They dragged her out of a sleep so deep that she wasn't even dreaming.
"Wake up, little one," one of them whispered. "You must wake up and tell us where you are."
"How many times do I have to tell you to stop bothering me!" she thought back.
"If you tell us where you are, we promise to stop bothering you."
Dimly, Sarah fought the tide of exhaustion that gripped her. Something important was happening, if she could just figure it out. "Too tired," she objected.
"We know, little one. We know you're tired, but you must wake up and tell us where you are."
She had to think. It seemed like a multitude of lifetimes ago that she'd fallen here. "Bimini," she finally remembered. "We're off the coast of Bimini." She faltered. "Can you hear me?"
"We hear you, little one. Come out of the water. You're so close. Can you get out of the water?"
She opened her eyes and looked around her. She was lying half in the water and half out of it on a beach. The moon overhead made her stare in awe for a moment. Then she realized that Abaddon was washing slowly back out to sea towards the waters of the Gulf Stream.
"Oh my god, Abaddon!" she thought. "I have to save him."
"You can't go back--"
She shut them out. She didn't know how they'd gotten to land, but she wasn't going to let Abaddon go. Rushing out into the water, she grabbed him by his hand, dragging him back inland. But she knew she was going to fail. It was too far, and he was entirely too heavy for her to drag onto the land.
"No," she sobbed. "No. No!" She slapped him across the face, then punched him in the chest. "Wake up!" she screamed.
Silence met her, and she sobbed again. Then she gave another heave and moved him in a bit further.
"Sarah?" he asked, his voice sounding raw and distorted.
"Get up," she told him, screaming it with mind and mouth.
"Can't," came the weak, distant thought. "Can't get up ever again."
"Then crawl," she demanded. "Damn you, get up on your fucking knees and crawl! I don't care what you have to do, you get out of the water!"
He groaned, his arm twitching. "Can't."
Desperate, she cried, "Yes you can! You can!"
Slowly, as if moving through cement rather than water, he lifted a hand and dug into the sand. She heaved as he pulled himself forward. It gained them a few inches. He tried again and she heaved as he eked out another couple of inches.
"No more," he said. "No more. Can't."
"It's just a little further," she lied. "Just another pull. Just one more."
With a groan, he gave another pull as she heaved.
"Please," she begged him. "Try again. One more time. For me."
With her sobbing and coaxing, he pulled five more times. The water tugged at him and she clung to him.
"Little one, Abaddon is dead," came the voice again into her head.
"No!" she screamed. She jumped up and screamed it out loud, as if they'd hear and believe her from where they were. "No! He isn't dead! He's not dead and I'm not going to let him die. You know what? Fuck you! And I mean it! He's not dead, you bastard! You just shut up! You hear me? You shut the fuck up and don't speak to me! I'm getting him out of there, and then he can heal, and nothing is going to stop me!"
She sank to her knees beside him, sobbing. Falling over him, she begged him. "Please, Abaddon, you have to try. One more time. They think you can't do it, but I believe you can."
"Don't cry, Sarah. I can't bear it when you cry," came his voice, so far away that she could barely hear it in her mind.
"Then try, damn it. You stubborn ass, you promised you would never quit on me."
"Can't, Sarah. Not giving up, just can't."
She felt the truth of it in her heart. He really couldn't. He'd given her everything, fought to the last vestiges of his strength.
"Oh god, please. Please don't die. You can't die now, we just made it."
"Love you, Sarah. Don't want to go. Love our babe."
"No, no, no," she cried, grabbing his arm and trying again to pull him free of the water. She fell and lay in the water, staring up at the stars. It wasn't fair. They'd come so far, only to lose at the finish line.
"Little one, listen to me," came the voice in her head.
"Go away. I hate you," she snapped.
"If you can find a way to secure him, you can step out of the water and replenish yourself. Soon you will have the strength to drag him free yourself."
"There's nothing here!" she screamed at the voice. "Don't you get it? There's nothing!"
She slammed the door in her mind shut. He didn't care, anyway. He didn't even believe it was Abaddon. She wouldn't give up, she couldn't.
"Protect our baby," Abaddon's voice broke through her mental barrier.
"I'll protect both of you," she told him. She would. She had to. "Make no mistake, Abaddon, I'll save you both. I won't pick. I won't."
But fate was against them. The tide, merciless and inexorable, rolled in. It dragged Abaddon out. Sarah dragged him back. It dragged him out. She dragged him back. Hours passed and Sarah's hope and determination slipped away under th
e endless march of time.
Abaddon no longer responded to her, and his light was now even dimmer than hers.
"Let go, little one," said a different voice. Sarah slammed her mind shut again. "Let go, you're safe now. He's safe now. It's okay."
Sarah opened her gritty eyes. She was surrounded by gargoyles.
"Let him go," one of them said, out loud, in English. "We'll take you both out of the water. You're safe now."
She looked down at Abaddon. She was holding him in a death grip. She realized suddenly that they'd gotten farther out in the water than she'd realized. It had almost been too late... she had fallen asleep.
With a monumental effort, she let go and felt herself plucked from the water.
Then she watched as they pulled Abaddon towards shore, the water up to the chests of the massive men. She'd been underwater and not even realized it, just clinging to him in her sleep. The possibilities terrified her and it was all she could do not to break in two from the terror.
"Sleep, little one," a voice said into her mind, and everything went dark.
Chapter 16
"He needs Thanatos," Nasargiel told Tzadkiel.
They got into the chopper they'd rented from a goblin enclave. The vampire pilot made no pretenses about looking back at their cargo.
"Holy shit, he looks like he's been through a war," he said of the fallen Abaddon.
"Yes, thank you, Captain Obvious," Nasargiel snapped.
"He won't help him," Tzadkiel cut into the argument. "His hatred of Abaddon is legendary."
"We'll take him there anyway," he said. "We have to take the woman there."
"She sure looks like a gargoyle," Tzadkiel ventured, staring at the sleeping woman. "It could be some kind of trick, but she..."
Nasargiel echoed the sentiment. When Lincoln had contacted them and told them that the female gargoyle they'd all been sensing was washed ashore somewhere in Bimini, he had been skeptical. When they'd seen the pair in the water about to be swept into the waters of the Gulf Stream, they'd panicked and rushed to get to them. Finding the woman clinging desperately to a gargoyle the size, stature, and color of Abaddon had been unlikely enough.
But then, she had opened her eyes and they had been perfect gargoyle eyes.
The stories of Lilith were told to them when they were young, but then never spoken of again. It stood as a statement of relief... no gargoyle women. The change apparently drove women insane. And not a single gargoyle woman had ever been born, so they assumed that it wasn't possible. Even human girl babies born to gargoyle fathers were rare enough to be nearly miraculous.
Yet the woman who slept peacefully on the floor of the helicopter was unquestionably a gargoyle and sane.
Abigor interrupted Nasargiel's musings, "It has to be some kind of trick. She doesn't seem crazy, just traumatized."
"That we can sense her indicates that she is indeed a gargoyle," Nasargiel replied, uncertain.
"Thanatos will know," Tzadkiel announced, echoing all of their hopes.
The helicopter landed and they moved their precious cargo onto a regular plane, piloted this time by a werewolf. His flight plan was registered, so there would be no inspections or trouble. The plane roared towards Vermont with great haste.
When they landed on the private airstrip of the Waltham Park Reserve, they unloaded Abaddon and the woman, putting them in the back of a pickup truck. Following it and its driver, they arrived at a hidden lair deep in the mountains.
Picking him up, they trudged into the common area of Thanatos' residence. There wasn't a man there who wasn't excited.
"Well, let me see," the massive gargoyle said, stepping into the room.
The group shifted, all of them, to a man, afraid of the mighty Thanatos. He was not just a gargoyle, he was the son of a sorcerer... the sorcerer-turned-gargoyle who even now lay on the table before them.
He laid his hand on the woman's head. "Wake up, little one," he commanded. She sat up immediately with a cry. She looked around wildly for an instant, before sighing with relief when she saw Abaddon.
"You must rest and learn how to reach into the Earth to replenish yourself," Thanatos told the woman. "You'll be fine with rest."
She smiled tentatively at him. "Thank you," she said.
"What's your name?" he asked. "We have many questions, as I'm sure you already expect."
"I'm Sarah," she informed him.
"Thanatos," he bowed and then held out his hand.
Nasargiel was unprepared for what happened next. The woman--Sarah--hauled off and punched Thanatos straight in the face. The room grew suddenly chilly and silent.
"Ow! Ouch, ouch, ouch! Your face is like a fucking rock!" she yelled, cradling her hand. "Ow."
"I'm a gargoyle," he said dryly. Then his eyes met Nasargiel's. "I don't think I deserved that. Did I deserve that?"
Nasargiel shrugged. "Probably."
Thanatos grinned, to his surprise.
"Yes, you bloody well deserved that," Sarah informed him.
"Care to explain why?" he asked, crossing his arms and looking abruptly ferocious.
"You shunned your father," she accused.
"I had good reason," he informed her. "He forced my mother. He admitted as much."
"He admitted your mother was forced, or he admitted he forced her?"
A muscle ticked in the dangerous gargoyle's cheek. "Does it matter? Are we to argue semantics?"
"Here's a little fact for you," Sarah snarled. "He didn't force her. He was forced, too. The sorcerers that you trusted over him were torturing her family. If he didn't have sex with her, they would keep torturing and healing her little children day after day. He didn't want to any more than she did, but they gave them both potions and made them choose between sex with each other or listening to her children and her husband scream themselves hoarse. What would you have done, Mr. High-and-Mighty?" She had her hands on her hips now. "Huh?"
Thanatos stood staring at her, and there was stark tension in the air. "I would have broken free and saved them."
"Really? Why, because you're bigger than he is?"
Everyone looked at the mountain of gargoyle laying on the table. No gargoyle alive was bigger than Abaddon.
"Or maybe you're more powerful than he is? Can you turn someone into a gargoyle?" she swayed with obvious fatigue, but it did nothing to detract from her ferocity. Taking a deep breath much like a human, she continued, "He tried multiple times. Every time they did it to another family, he tried to escape. They ripped his wings off. They even ripped his cock off. They punished him in the most brutal ways imaginable, and then some, for trying to save those families, and to the day he finally escaped, he never quit trying. You really think you could do better?"
A raw, ragged silence fell over the small gathering of gargoyles. "There had to be something he could do--" Thanatos began.
"He did the only thing he could do," she argued. "He stopped the torture of their families and he treated each and every one of them with all the dignity and kindness he could muster. You don't know him. You never bothered to know him. You turned your back on him, and you were all he had left. He never allowed anyone to speak badly of you in front of him. Never." Nasargiel fought a strange desire to comfort her as a black tear dropped from first one eye and then the other. "You never bothered to know him, even though you knew--you knew--that the men giving you your information were liars. You knew they tortured and raped and destroyed, but you still listened to them over the man that saved your ass from them."
Then, wobbling and unsteady, she stood up, trembling as she drew herself to her full height. "You broke his heart, and I won't let you do it again. Get out and leave us alone." A trembling arm pointed at the door with regal finality. Another tear slipped down her cheek.
"He'll die if I don't help him," Thanatos told her, that muscle still throbbing in his jaw.
"No. We'll take him outside, he'll replenish and heal," she disagreed. "He doesn't need you." Her chin lifted to a def
iant angle even as her body shook.
The door behind Thanatos opened and a small pregnant woman walked in. Enthralled, Nasargiel stared at her.
"He's telling the truth, dear," the woman said, making her ponderous way over to Sarah. "He's almost dead already. Without Thanatos' ability to heal him, he'll die." She wrapped her arm around Sarah's. "Let's go have some cookies and let him do his thing."
"I'm a gargoyle now, I can't eat," Sarah objected, looking poleaxed at the force of the other woman's personality, despite being heavily pregnant.
"Sure you can. It doesn't do anything for sustenance, but you can eat and you'll... um... eliminate... later like humans do."
Sarah blinked her eyes and looked around. Finally, when her eyes met his, she leaned over towards Nasargiel, he leaned forward to allow her to whisper harshly in his ear, "Can we really do that?"
Surprised, he whispered back, "If you're like the rest of us, certainly."
She squared her shoulders and turned towards the pregnant woman again. "I can't leave him alone with Thanatos, but I would love a cookie, please."
"You can leave him alone with him. He won't harm him," the woman told her, then turned on Thanatos with a ferocity at odds with her diminutive stature and her gentle aura. "You," she snapped, poking Thanatos in the chest. "She's right. You were an ass. I told you that when you told me about him, so don't stand there all scowling and blustering. You owe him an apology. Besides, you know perfectly well that you're no better, using women the way that you did to try to have children."
"I--" he started.
"Don't even think about it," the woman snapped. "If you harm him, I'm sleeping in the blue room for six months."
Clearly surprised at the threat, his eyebrows snapped up. "You would miss me."
Even Nasargiel knew enough about women to know that was a big mistake.
"I have a pregnancy and then a baby to distract me, how about you?" she declared smugly. She turned back to Sarah. "I'm Alexis, by the way. Let's go have some cookies and milk."
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