One particular scene slowed to a crawl. It showed a young man—the witch Eden had befriended, the boy she’d tried to guide to a better life.
His name had been D’Andre and he’d been a cocky kid with a cocky smile. But then he fell in with Dominiqua and that cocky charm turned to anger, self-doubt, fear.
It was the witch he’d killed…the one that had made Eden turn away from him.
Do you remember him? Sansan asked softly.
Adamm wanted to deny it. But even as he tried to form the words, his enigmatic guide lifted a brow.
He was only nineteen, unsure of what he was doing. He may have walked away from the life he was living, may have become something more. Eden made him think he could do just that. But now he’ll never have the chance. It’s almost pathetic, you getting a chance and him not.
“Why am I getting one?” Adamm asked, his voice tight and rusty as the images flashed back in time, replayed the moment when the life faded from D’Andre’s eyes. Replaying it…over and over…until Adamm thought he’d go mad from it.
I begged for it. But if it had happened after this, right after…I would have just let you go. Sansan’s voice sounded odd and when Adamm looked at him, he saw tears running down the man’s face, silent, steady tears, as he watched a life ended.
He felt like sobbing himself. The boy had been foolish, a pawn thrown at him by Dominiqua, the witch who ran the other gang. The rivalry between them hadn’t ever managed to be a “friendly” one, because she was too fucking pissed that Adamm had walked away from her.
Watching the boy die, over and over, Adamm realized there had been innocence there. Foolish, young, a little tarnished, but still innocence. The boy had been alone, just trying to find his way. Adamm had made damn sure that would never happen.
“How much longer are you going to keep this up?” Adamm asked, his voice gritty, his chest hot and tight. Shame and guilt curled through his belly and he felt raw all over.
Hmmm…maybe you’ve seen enough. For now. It is time for you to get started anyway. And here comes your first chance…
Adamm sucked air in. One moment he was talking with Sansan. The next…hurting. Pain ripped through his body, through his veins and he wanted to scream with it, but he couldn’t. It was like liquid fire coursing through his veins, that pain, and every stuttering beat of his heart made it worse.
“He’s back,” a voice said from overhead.
“…too damned close. Doesn’t make any sense,” somebody said quietly. “He’s been here for so long, and stable.”
“…waking up?”
Adamm lifted his lashes, staring up, teeth clenched as the pain continued to burn his veins. A head was in his vision, a black man, his eyes wide, concerned, as he stared down.
“Hey, man…welcome back to life,” the guy murmured, squeezing his arm reassuringly.
Adamm tried to speak, but couldn’t.
“Don’t try to talk yet.” A woman, her voice low, husky…sweet. “Dr. Harris here is going to look you over. You’ve been through the wringer.”
He rolled his head to the side. Then he felt his heart trip inside his chest.
What an…angel, he thought, his throat tightening, blood pounding through his veins with every tortured beat of his heart. She gave him a small, hesitant smile and he felt it in the pit of his stomach.
“Well, Jonah MacLean…you are one lucky son of a gun,” the man said. “Three years in a coma. Look at you…”
Jonah MacLean…? Okay, who the hell is Jonah MacLean?
Then the other words finally penetrated though. Three years in a coma…
Chapter Three
A day later, Adamm was watching as the nurse moved around the room. Her name was Lily. She was…gorgeous, long and slender with dusky skin and pale blue eyes.
And those eyes were the saddest he had ever seen…since Eden. He felt his heart squeeze in his chest, a nagging reminder of something he had lost.
“How are you feeling, Mr. MacLean?” she asked, coming over to the bed and smiling down at him.
Confused, pissed off… Weariness ate at him, and his futile anger wasn’t helping any. “Tired,” he finally muttered, his voice hoarse. “MacLean…is that my name?”
Lily’s eyes narrowed and she cocked her head, the curls from her ponytail slipping over her shoulder. One long spiral curl edged down to her breast, the end curling around her nipple, drawing his eyes before he jerked his gaze away.
“Don’t you remember?”
“Not…much,” he said, sighing. A lie…but if he told the truth, he’d end up in the funny farm. They had let him hold a mirror as they shaved the week-old beard from his face. His face was leaner, his skin was still pale, but with the dark hair, and bottle-green eyes, he no longer looked so colorless.
“Ahhh…I see,” she said, smiling gently. “You spoke to the doctor about it?”
No. He shrugged.
A dark brown brow lifted and she pursed her lips as she watched him, a slight gleam in her eyes even as she softly said, “Now how can we help if you don’t tell us everything that is going on?” Then she patted his arm, a nice, sisterly touch. “It’s not unusual. Give it some time.”
You were found in the alley a few streets over, right when Adamm died.
“I am Adamm,” he growled, turning around and staring at Sansan. They were back in the bright place again, so Adamm assumed he was sleeping, and dreaming this. But it was still real. He knew that.
No…Adamm died. He had to die. You are a different man…you have to be. You were born from him, but he is gone…can’t you already tell a difference inside? Sansan asked, his eyes dark and probing as he studied Adamm.
Jonah…you are Adamm no more. You are Jonah MacLean, found unconscious in an alley three years ago. You slid into a coma within hours of arriving at this hospital, although they found no injuries on you.
“And where in the hell did Jonah MacLean come from?” he demanded, reaching up, still startled at the feel of thick black hair, long and straight, under his fingers, instead of the brutally short cut that Adamm had worn his hair in. “If that is who I am, where did I come from?”
Why…from Him. Sansan smiled brilliantly and just winked at him. You’ve been given a new chance. You are lucky—not everybody gets a second chance, and some are so much more deserving than you.
Jonah glared at him through slitted eyes. “So you’ve let me know. Endlessly. If I am so damned unworthy, then why am I getting this chance?” he demanded.
You’re not who you were. You have a chance to be so much more. Use it. Show me the man you were meant to be…
Three days.
It had been three days since he’d opened his eyes in this hospital and he was so damned tired, it was unreal. So tired…like he’d spent the past three years in a coma.
He smirked at his own joke and shifted around in the bed. He was weak, but everybody kept telling him that was also to be expected. He felt stronger than he had and each day it got better, but it was still taking too long.
He didn’t have forever to wait to get out of here. In the back of his mind, there was a clock ticking—a countdown.
Tennis shoes squeaked against the tile floor out in the hall and he rolled his head on the pillow, following the sound. It was her.
Lily. The nurse he’d seen when he first opened his eyes. As blurry as his memories from that day were, she was clear. Memories of her were the only clear thing from that day, and those memories were almost surreal in the clarity, probably because they were the first “real” memories he had in this new life.
He had no memories as Jonah. His only memories were from his life as Adamm, but as Sansan kept drilling into his head, he was no longer Adamm. He couldn’t use Adamm’s knowledge, he couldn’t use Adamm’s memories, and he was too terrified to try using Adamm’s magic. The ghost of it seemed to live inside of him, but Jonah didn’t want to give into that call.
Don’t think about the magic, he told himself. If he did, he�
�d find himself tempted to use it to try and speed his healing along. Couldn’t do that—couldn’t take the shortcut, the easy way, couldn’t do it.
So instead of the magic, he made himself think about Lily. He could see the back of her head as she bent over the desk across the hall from his room, working on whatever it was nurses did when they weren’t probing, or poking or listening to you breathe.
Somebody said something to her and she glanced up, looking to the side and laughing. The sound of that laugh, the sight of her face, it did weird things to him. Made his heart trip inside his chest, made his cock stand up and pay attention.
Damn it, it had been years since he had looked at a woman and felt something move inside him as he saw her. Besides his cock showing signs of interest, that is. No woman had hit him inside, since Eden. She had been the first…the only.
Damn it. Automatically, he tried to guide his thoughts away from Eden—thinking about her hurt. Except this time, it didn’t. Not really. A bittersweet ache, but that was all.
And all too soon, thoughts of Lily invaded, yet again. There was something not…regular about Lily. Something besides being an excellent nurse, something more than just the sweet, tempting heat of her body…something more.
As he continued to watch her, she pushed back from the desk. He glanced at the clock and then turned his head away from the door, feigning sleep. It was time for her rounds and as sweet as she was to look at, he preferred not to look directly into her eyes.
Looking at her made his skin itch, and it wasn’t just because she had the nicest damn ass and the most kissable mouth he’d ever seen. She had magic.
Healing magic, at the very least, but it might be more. He didn’t know if she was a witch or psychic or something else altogether. Hell, she could have been just a healer, but she was definitely more than a nurse.
It had just been a suspicion, but then she’d messed up.
In the room across from his there had been somebody in so much pain it was about to drive Jonah mad. Then, he’d seen her slip into the patient’s room after a quick glance up and down the hall. Jonah had felt something he was all too familiar with—the fiery hot touch of healing magic.
When she’d left the room her face was pale, her eyes were glassy and there was weariness in every line of her body. Satisfaction gleamed in her eyes and the pain that he had sensed in the air was gone.
She’d come to his room as well, later. Jonah had been trying to sleep, but the pain wouldn’t let him. So he lay there, his muscles knotting and cramping. The physical therapists had spent yet another afternoon manipulating his weakened body, trying to coax wasted muscles back into shape. Three years in a coma had left the body weak.
The therapy had him sore, and it had him frustrated. He suspected there was a long period of recuperation ahead of him and how in the hell was he going to do whatever it was he needed to do to redeem himself if he was stuck in some hospital?
He’d been lying there, dealing with that frustration, when he’d heard her enter his room. Although his eyes were closed, he knew it was her—none of the other nurses smelled quite like she did. Honeysuckle, woman, vanilla. Soft, warm and female.
He listened as she closed the door behind her, drew the privacy curtain closed. Then she just stood there, five feet away, studying him…maybe waiting for him to wake up. When he didn’t look at her, she’d come closer. He couldn’t hear her move, but he had known she was now close enough to touch, if he just reached out a hand. She was the one to touch him, though, brushing the tips of her fingers down his arm.
Heat flared in the wake of her touch.
“Sleep,” she’d murmured and he felt the power behind her words. Whether she realized he was awake or not, she wasn’t taking any chances—she’d put him under and he was powerless to resist it.
Panic had flared, but before it could fully form, he was deep, deep in the warm grasp of sleep.
And when he had woken, hours later, the pain in his body was gone.
It was more than just that, though. Whatever she’d done, she’d managed to erase the damage done to his physical body as he’d lain bed-ridden for three years.
Now, three days after she’d healed his body, she was plying on her skills on another, and stuck in his bed, Jonah lay there and worried. She was playing with fire, in the worst way.
Practicing magic, making little to no attempt to hide it, and in Dominiqua’s territory.
Dangerous, dangerous thing to do.
Playing with fire, sweetheart.
Lily probably had no idea just how dangerous it was, what she was doing. Using her magic like this, sooner or later, she was going to get caught.
There had been a time when Eden had done the same thing, using her magic to help others. Sooner or later, somebody would have figured out what she was doing. They would have destroyed her. It was a fear that had haunted him at night and eventually, he’d forced her to stop using the magic, unless it was for the gang. It had been to protect her, but she hadn’t seen it that way. It was just another thing he’d done to kill her spirit, he realized. That was when the light in her eyes started to slowly fade away.
She stopped healing anybody that wasn’t part of the group, used it when one of them suffered an injury from the lives they lived, gunshots, knife wounds, magic-induced injuries…all from violence. The only time she was able to use it for something other than violence had been if they caught the flu.
She was happiest when helping people, your Eden, Sansan said quietly, his voice echoing in Jonah’s head, like a voice in a well. You tried to take that from her.
“I was trying to protect her,” Jonah whispered. Now he was not even thinking of himself as Adamm.
His head hurt, his gut hurt…and he no longer felt like himself. Everything felt wrong and he knew nothing Lily did could ease the ache in his heart.
That is because you are finally thinking with your heart, instead of your head. Sansan smiled gently. A painful process for somebody so used to thinking of the world…instead of thinking of those who think the world of him. She needed you. Lyssa needed you. They needed you more than the others. You just wouldn’t change.
“Where is Eden?”
Happy, whole…for the first time in her life. You’ll have the chance to see her sometime. And perhaps Lyssa. Although you cannot tell them who you are. Once you are ready to let it go, that life, that man will exist no more.
“Happy,” Jonah muttered, closing his eyes as he heard footsteps heading down the hall. It was time for them to come again and check on him. And he really didn’t feel like talking.
He felt like screaming.
***
Lily stared at her hands, shaking. With her back pressed against the bathroom door, she had as much privacy as she was likely to get.
It had been more than a week, but it was still so unreal, and she couldn’t quite believe it.
They had done it—placed her here, in this mortal body, like her own, but not. The wings were gone. The insistent biting hunger to feel a man’s skin was gone. She was just…Lily.
And for the first time, when she had healed somebody, she hadn’t felt any shame or fear that she shouldn’t be doing this.
Long raised to hate anything Divine, it felt…odd…to lift her eyes and stare above her. “Thank You,” she whispered.
Somebody knocked on the door and called, “Hurry up in there!”
Startled, Lily jumped, and then she laughed at herself. “Just a sec, Gail,” she said.
Bizarre… she thought. This is all so bizarre. She opened the door and let the short, redheaded nurse into the bathroom. She had known who that voice belonged to. Just like she had known what to do every time she had gone to check on a patient, like she had known the doctors around her.
Bizarre…
She flipped through a chart, sitting down to do a job that felt perfectly natural. She stifled a giggle as she made a notation and signed the name, Lily Conrad.
Bizarre. And wonderful. So
wonderful.
With a broad grin, she rose and put the chart away, looking up as Gail said her name.
“You looked so happy,” the other nurse murmured. “What’s going on?”
She shrugged and shook her head. “I just feel…good,” she replied as she headed out of the nurse’s station, towards a room that seemed to call her.
Well, it was the patient that called her. A man with brooding green eyes and a smile he rarely showed. There was something—lost, she supposed, about him. Something confused. It had been a week since he had woken from the coma and not once had anybody come to visit him, not once had he received a phone call. A part of her brain was feeding her information as she went about her job, telling her this is what to do…this is what you’ve done…and it was that voice that whispered, Most patients would have had somebody with them.
Yet he had nobody. He didn’t seem disturbed or surprised by the fact. Indeed, Lily imagined he would have been quite startled to have somebody come and visit him. Somebody as lonely as me. She walked around the room, straightening things that didn’t need straightening, making just enough noise that he open his eyes from the sleep he was feigning.
But Jonah MacLean persisted, keeping his eyes closed, his breathing steady.
Finally, with a sigh, she turned and left, a little disappointed. She had wanted to look into those vivid green eyes again.
***
Jonah could still smell her, that soft, unique fragrance that clung to her skin. Opening his eyes, he lay staring at the ceiling. “What am I doing here?” he muttered, rubbing wearily at his brow.
Still wondering that, boy?
Turning his head, he stared into the reflection of the metal bedpost, meeting Sansan’s dark, mocking eyes. “Yeah, I’m still wondering that,” he replied in a quiet, but irritated voice. “You’ve thrown me into this body, into this life without giving me a road map.”
The Redeeming Page 4