The Lost Soul Trilogy (Primani Book 5)

by Laurie Olerich

  Unable to move anything else, Sean blinked furiously at Killian. Killian glanced at Mica and Sean blinked again.

  Sean? Can you hear me?

  Sean’s eyes lit up and he sent his thoughts racing into Killian’s mind.

  Get her out of here! She’s making herself sick!

  How are you holding up?

  Bitter laugh…I’ve been better. Any luck yet?

  Not yet, I’m still looking.

  Someone cleared their throat and Killian turned to see Rivin lounging just inside the tiny chapel door. He lifted a hand in greeting. Killian acknowledged him and turned back to Sean with a heavy heart.

  Hang in there, Sean.

  He rested his hand on Sean’s shoulder for a minute and tried to send him what comfort he could. Sean blinked again and Killian scooped Mica into his arms.

  Her eyes opened a slit and she let her head drop over the back of his arm. She was burning up. He rested his cheek on her forehead and frowned. Damn, she’s practically on fire. She inhaled and broke into a deep cough that rattled in her chest.

  “Rivin! Let’s go!” he barked the words more harshly than he intended.

  “Before you get pissed, let me explain. She’s a bloody stubborn woman. I swear I’ve done everything but tie her to the bed. She nearly ripped me head off when I tried to tie her to the bed. Called me a bloody pervert too. We’ve been fighting for days over this. She won’t listen to a word I say.”

  “Shocker. Just drive us to the house. How long has she been sick?”

  He thought for a second and said, “Not long. She’s been coughing for a few days but said it was just a cold. I think the fever’s new unless she’s been hiding it. I can’t get close enough to feel her forehead without losing a body part.”

  She shivered in her seat and he pulled her closer to share his body heat. Her cheeks bloomed with an unhealthy red except for the white lines of fatigue around her eyes. Purple shadows added more color. He tucked her hair behind an ear and marveled that she could be so sick so fast. He’d only been gone a week. Damn, she was too fragile as a human. The vision from the Valley of Death floated into his mind and he squeezed her hand harder than he meant to. She frowned and opened her eyes. They were glazed with fever.

  Taking the stairs two at a time, he carried her to the room and stripped off her wet clothes. She shivered and shook in the chilly air and he yelled for Rivin.

  “Turn the friggin’ heat on in this place! It’s freezing in here!”

  “Got it. What else can I do?”

  Killian said, “Warm up the house, bring me a thermometer, water, something for the fever…we’ll start there.”

  While Rivin gathered up the bring-down-the-fever things, he wrapped her in a warm robe and a thick blanket. Chafing her cold fingers between his hands, he watched and worried. Stubborn, loving, loyal…damn woman! He wanted to shout at her for risking her life, but he was so damn proud of her loyalty to Sean.

  She was like a mother bear.

  Protective, fierce…she’d be a hell of a mother one day.

  “I leave you alone for a week and you try to kill yourself. What am I going to do with you, stubborn girl?” He said the words lightly, trying to soothe her. “You know you have to pull yourself together. Sean isn’t going anywhere. It sucks but we have others who are counting on us. We don’t have time to waste.”

  She moaned in her sleep and fluttered her fingers weakly. She was biting her nails again. She did that when she worried. Lifting her fingers to his face, he kissed them lightly and waited for Rivin.

  “This is all I could find.” Rivin hurried inside with his arms full of supplies.

  Dumping them on the small dresser, he rummaged until he came up with the thermometer. He peered at it quizzically and shrugged.

  “There were two kinds in the bathroom cabinet. No idea what’s what meself. Oral or rectal? What would the lady prefer?” Handing one to Killian, he said, “This is rounded on the end. Is it rectal or oral?”

  With a half-snort of annoyance, and gratitude that the lady was out cold and missing this stupid conversation, Killian snatched it and said, “The round part’s for under your tongue, you moron.”

  A sudden racking cough brought Mica out of sleep and gasping for air. He helped her sit up and waited for her to settle down again. She was so much more docile when she was sick, he thought with some humor. Hell, it was easy to take care of her when she was unconscious. She didn’t argue.

  When had he become so interested in comforting women? This was a new role for him. If it were anyone else, he’d have assigned Rivin to manage it and left. But Mica? He would happily sit at her side and feed her with a spoon.

  Whatever it took to keep her alive…he wasn’t going to screw this up.

  When he checked on her the next time, she was blinking up at him from her bed. Her face was still pink but not the hellish red it was earlier. Her eyes were clear and she was drenched with sweat. The fever had broken. Hallelujah. Exhaling with relief, he sank down beside her and felt her forehead. Much better. Thank God.

  “Where did you come from?” she asked with a wan smile.

  “Someplace unpleasant. Are you feeling better?”

  She cleared her throat experimentally and swallowed. “I think so. Did you heal me?” Her tone suggested there was no possible way he did that.

  Ouch! He wasn’t the greatest healer, but damn. He’d healed her before. It wasn’t impossible.

  “No, we pumped you full of drugs; massive doses of cold medicine. You’ve been out for 12 hours.”

  Surprised by this, she actually smiled a little and said, “That seems a little ordinary, but I guess it worked. Why did you come back? I thought you’d be gone longer.”

  How could he tell her about the vision? He didn’t understand it completely himself. He decided to play it off.

  “I wanted to check in on you and Sean. When I found you at the chapel, you were passed out and burning with fever.” He stroked her hair and added firmly, “Babe, you can’t keep doing that. You can’t neglect yourself. I need you to be there for me too. You have to be stronger than your emotions. Remember?”

  Her face fell, making him feel like a jerk.

  “It’s so hard to walk away from him. I can’t do it. He’s there behind the stone…I can feel his agony, Killian. It’s an ache in my bones; it hurts so much. My knees ache, my back aches. His eyes watch me and they run with tears.” She sniffed, begging him to understand. “How can I leave him alone?”

  Gathering her close, he rested his head on hers and closed his eyes. He had to leave again, but how could he leave her here? She’d go and sit with Sean every day, never realizing she was hurting him more than helping him. Sean’s pain was nearly more than he could bear and having her there was going to push him over the edge. Her empathy would tear them both to pieces. Michael had blessed her with this ability. He knew what he was doing, but that didn’t make it any easier for her to bear. She was too close to Sean; they were linked as tightly as she was to him. The connection was important, necessary even, but it made her too vulnerable. If he pulled her away from him, she’d freak out. There was no way to release Sean…so what options were there?

  When her fingers curled against the back of his neck, he relaxed and let himself enjoy the gentleness of her touch. If he closed his eyes he could summon her to his mind. He pictured her mouth turned up in a lazy smile and leaned down to kiss her. Letting his mouth linger over her soft lips, he slid his fingers through the silky tangle of her hair.

  “I’ll be back soon,” he whispered as she drifted off to sleep again.

  Astral Plane #72:

  “Son of a bitch!” he swore and jammed Sgaine Erion into its sheath. “Someone give me a break already!”

  He looked upwards in exasperation and barked an irritated laugh at the gesture. Yeah, looking up always helps! Damn it. Where is she? He glanced around the landscape already knowing it was empty. The deserted wasteland was completely inhospitable.
/>   Aisling wasn’t here.

  She wasn’t in any of the 50 other planes he’d visited in the past two weeks. How many other planes are out there? He had no idea there were so many…He glanced down to see rubber oozing like hot tar from under his feet. The heat was blistering the soles of his boots. Okay, time to bolt. With one last look over the horizon, he pulled out Sgaine Erion and set the next path.

  Rome, Italy:

  The cathedral was as silent as a tomb at midnight. The doors were locked to keep out vandals and thieves, but he bypassed the locks and settled quietly in the vestry. His boots just touched the floor when he picked up the heartbeat of another presence nearby. He listened with both ears and mind.

  Not human…definitely not angelic.

  Grinning savagely in the darkness, he willed his heart to slow and be quiet. This was a time for subtlety.

  A slight rustle of fabric drew his attention to the altar just outside of his concealment. The sound stopped. The heartbeat thudded quietly in the darkness and Killian recognized its owner. The stench of evil turned his stomach. It was dark and cloying, the smell of burning hair and flesh mixed with rock and earth. Gripping the blade in his fist, he stepped into the room.

  “Finally! I was beginning to think you would hide in there all night.” He faced Killian with his hands in the pockets of a loose grey robe. The mocking smile was erudite as always and yet he threw off a distinctive evil vibe that sent Killian’s senses off the charts.

  Killian met his eyes while mentally searching the pockets. They were empty, yet clearly Jordan wanted him to think they were hiding something. Inside the folds of material, his fingers clenched and unclenched as though they were grasping at something familiar. I’m not playing your little game, traitor. Toy with me all you want, I’m not biting. Instead of asking, he gave an I-could-care-less shrug and held the knife loosely in a ready position.

  “That’s actually funny, Jordan. Why would I hide from the butler?” He studied his old friend with dispassionate eyes. Jordan wasn’t looking too good. His lean face was grey, his eyes sunken and bloodshot. The creases around his mouth and eyes were deeper than he remembered. He looked like shit. Well, when you make a deal with the devil…shit happens. And it was usually bad, as in terminal.

  Jordan stiffened at the insult but tamped down his anger with obvious effort. He turned away and walked to the small font filled with holy water. After studying it for a minute, he held a hand over it and raised an eyebrow at Killian.

  “Am I forbidden to partake?”

  Leaning casually against a wall under a huge stained-glass masterpiece of Michael wielding an impressive burning sword, Killian said, “Take a drink and let’s see what happens.”

  Jordan narrowed his eyes and fixed Killian with a hard stare. The evil eye? Seriously? Like that’s going to work on me, Killian thought. Puh-lease. He eyeballed Jordan thoughtfully while using the knife to clean his fingernails. Jesus, what a drama queen! Let’s just move on to trying to kill each other.

  With a rebellious smirk at Michael, Jordan dipped his hand into the font of holy water and slated his thirst until the font was dry. Stepping back, he wiped the back of his hand across his mouth and belched disrespectfully. Killian kept a straight face but inside he was stunned. What the hell was that? It couldn’t be good. Only the most powerful demons could touch holy water without getting burned. His fingers twitched on the blade itching to bury it in Jordan’s throat.

  Smiling now, Jordan glided away from the empty font and idly flipped the pages of the open Bible lying on the altar. The pages began to blur as he moved them faster and faster until he finally slammed his fist down bringing them to a halt.

  In the dead silence that followed, Jordan’s voice rang out.

  “And I saw in the right hand of him that sat on the throne a book written within and on the backside, sealed with seven seals.” Jordan’s eyes glowed red in the darkness, his voice guttural, harsh.

  Killian tensed, listening.

  Jordan continued in a hushed, silky voice that sent a chill down Killian’s back. “Are you familiar with the Seven Seals, Killian?”

  “I am.”

  Jordan stroked the pages lovingly and began to read. “And I saw, and behold a white horse; and he that sat on him had a bow; and a crown was given unto him: and he went forth conquering and to conquer.”

  The first seal: Conquest

  “And then went out another horse that was red; and power was given to him that sat thereon to take peace from the earth, and that they should kill one another.”

  The second seal: War

  “And I beheld, and lo a black horse; and he that sat on him had a pair of balances in his hand.”

  The third seal: Famine

  Killian gripped the haft to keep it from shaking as he spoke the words he knew so well. “And I looked, and behold a pale horse and his name that sat on him was Death and Hell followed him.”

  The fourth seal: Pestilence and Death

  “Bravo, you’ve read the scriptures. But then again, you’ve always been a good student. A good little angel…one of Raphael’s favorites. Shall I read the rest of the seals for you?”

  “Smallpox, Jordan? That’s your plan?” He pushed away from the wall and slowly approached the altar. “I would’ve expected something more creative, dramatic, like mind control or targeted possession of a few world leaders, but mass execution? That seems extreme, even for you. I thought you wanted to rule? Will you kill off your subjects?”

  “Humans are more susceptible when they’re terrified. The silly creatures will panic and immediately search for someone to blame, leading to war and all its lovely atrocities. After they get done butchering each other, they will wonder what happened to their God’s mercy. “Oh, how did this happen?” they’ll cry. It’s a simple matter of killing their faith in their ridiculous, complacent God.”

  He paused and stared into Killian’s eyes. Measuring him...gauging his usefulness.

  “It’s not too late for you to join me. Your power would be useful. I would make you a leader, not a servant as Michael has done.”

  Refusing to take the bait, Killian appeared to study Michael’s image before responding. “I have all the power I need. I’m a simple man with simple needs.”

  Jordan’s jaw tightened as he tried to reel in his irritation. Killian was supposed to fall in line and join him. All in due time, he thought. He’ll come around. He won’t have a choice.

  He said simply, “We shall see.”

  Dismissing the conversation as over, Jordan laid his hand on the pages of the Bible and the edges began to curl and smoke. Killian stared and stayed put. Jordan selected a page, tore it out and held it up as though considering its words. The page burst into flame and he smiled with satisfaction.

  The stench of evil grew stronger as the pages burned.

  Burning hair, burning flesh.

  Overwhelming.

  Killian’s senses went into hyper-drive leaving him taut and breathless.

  Jordan’s face was a solid mask of evil, the devil incarnate. As Killian watched, the air around Jordan was disturbed by an odd shimmering. The smell grew stronger.

  Things weren’t as they seemed.

  His gut screamed a warning but it was too late now.

  Clutching the altar, he felt the flame in his eyes. His face was hard and cold as the stained glass, his voice echoing in the rafters, “And there was a war in Heaven: Michael and his angels fought the dragon; and the dragon fought and his angels, and prevailed not.”

  His eyes burned cobalt as he looked into the empty soul that once was Jordan. “You cannot win this fight. You will not win this fight. We know how the story ends.”

  Jordan raised himself to his full height shouting in a voice that was not his own, “I am the Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end, the first and the last!”

  Shocked, Killian grabbed him by the front of his robes and roared, “You dare compare yourself to Christ?”

  Jordan sh
immered and the robes slipped through Killian’s fingers, sharp as knives, cutting and slicing his hands. His eyes turned black as he hissed, “Jordan is only a vessel.”

  Chapter 14: Resurrection

  “COME ON, LASS! You’re not even trying!” Rivin yelled at me. His freshly-shaved head glistened with sweat as he sucked in a breath and dropped into a crouch across from me.

  “Whatever, man. I’m done.” I snatched up my towel and stalked towards the path that led back to the car.

  I hate England. I hate the constant drizzle; I hate the constant cold; and I really, really hate the fact that Sean is a lawn ornament.

  Rivin caught up with me and whipped me around to face him. His eyes glowed on low, his annoyance clearly etched into his face. “You know, when I met you I thought you’d be tougher than this. Declan used to talk about you like you were some kind of fucking Amazon.”

  He dug his fingers into my arm and sneered, “But you’re just a whiny ass, weak little human. There’s nothing special about you. I don’t know what Dec was talking about.” He flung me away in disgust.

  Catching my balance, I said, “Whatever. I could care less what you think. You don’t even make the Top 10 of people I give a shit about, so give it a rest.”

  “Fuck you, bitch. You’re on my last nerve with this pathetic attitude. You want to help your precious Sean? Why don’t you try getting back in the game so we can kick some demon ass for him? Do you think Killian’s risking his life so you can sit around feeling sorry for yourself?”

  A flash of familiar anger rushed through me and I snapped, “Killian does what he needs to. That has nothing to do with me. You don’t like babysitting me? Why don’t you get the fuck out and go play hero somewhere else? I don’t need you here!”

  His face lit for just a second as he thought over the offer but then he scowled down at me and snapped, “Get in the car. You know I can’t leave your dumb ass here unprotected.”