“I even had to stitch you up once. Right? See? I’ve been trying to hold you together all along.” Then, holding my hand open, he positioned the hilt of his knife on my palm, squeezed my hand around it, and then removed it with his gloved hand. “And see? Last week you stole my knife to make your cutting more interesting. You’ve always liked it, this knife. My sister knows that. Then there are your letters proving how unstable you are.”
“Shit…Catherine. He has you totally set up,” Michael moaned, lacing his fingers over the top of his head and pressing down hard. “I’ll kill him…I swear I will…”
But I knew he couldn’t.
“Tell my mom…”
Michael shook his head. “Don’t you start thinking that way.”
“Tell her…I’m sorry…”
“Already thought of that,” Jason assured me. “She’ll get a text from your phone explaining everything right before you leap. So let’s go carry out your plan, Cate. We don’t want to keep your boyfriend waiting.” Then he thrust me into the woods.
I caught a glimpse of Michael wincing as my flu-ravaged body was shoved over the border before he lunged for Jason in full tackle position. He had no effect on him at all, and he cried out in escalating frustration as he tried to pummel Jason over and over while I was forced farther and farther into the woods.
“Michael! There’s nothing you can do! You have to accept that! You have to trust God!” I cried weakly as I watched the sweat drip from his exhausted body. Jason readjusted his grip so he could cover my mouth.
“I’ll trust Him when He sends down a fucking army of Angels to save you!” Michael shot back, taking aim again, but he suddenly stopped, disappeared instead and reappeared a few inches in front of my face, his eyes fiercely determined.
“Slow him down, Catherine. I’m going to get help.”
Help? How was he going to get help? But I could see his face clearly in the light reflecting off the snow, and he was deadly serious. He had a plan, too. I raised my eyebrows doubtfully, and he leaned in even closer. “Stay with me. I’ll be back. Be ready to run.”
I nodded, and he disappeared.
Slow him down. Sure. I struggled, kicked, and twisted, but was too weak to have much impact, so I focused instead on my breathing. In…out…in…out…I sucked hard to fill my lungs with each of Jason’s steps, but I couldn’t get enough. I was sick, and the air was cold, and I was so tired. In the snow-strengthened moonlight, the scaly tree trunks drifted past like ships floating by in a fog. I wanted to join them. My eyes started to close.
Stay with me…just a little longer…you can live through this.
I jerked my eyes back open.
“Catherine, are you ready?” Michael’s commanding voice came from behind me.
To run, right? He wanted me to run?
“Yes,” I croaked, and then louder, “Yes.” I twisted around just in time to see Michael finish whispering in a coyote’s softly pointed ear before it lunged for Jason, gold eyes blazing, fangs snapping and snarling like a hound from hell.
I was stunned. The coyote had survived! I could see the small crescent-shaped scar in his sandy gray fur where I’d pulled out the arrow.
Jason stiffened at the sound and spun to face it.
“Now, Catherine! Run!” Michael shouted. I tore myself out of Jason’s hands just as the coyote slammed into him, saliva-spitting fangs first. He hit Jason mid-chest, and they both fell backward onto the path. Jason buried his hands in the fur at the coyote’s throat, struggling to keep him from ripping his face to shreds.
I dragged in more air and stumbled up the path toward the mouth of the woods and the car at a sluggish run. Michael was at my side instantly.
“Catherine! The coyote’s not big enough! He can only hold Jason off for so long.” I slowed down to see his face, which was calm, but grim. “You’ll never make it.”
I stopped and leaned forward with my hands on my knees, sucking hard. He was right…shit…I could barely breathe. I’d never make it to the car before Jason. I’d have no speed.
Michael bent down next to me, resting his tingling hand on my upper back. “You need a weapon.”
I tilted my head to the side. “Where…breathe…where?”
“Follow me.”
He stood up, but kept his hand on my back. I stood up next to him. “Come on! You haven’t got much time!” The coyote was whimpering now somewhere behind us, and my heart broke for him, but I nodded to Michael, and we struck off at a fast pace into the woods. He remained just a few inches in front of me, urging me forward, guiding me with his hand on the back of my neck, soothing me with his gentle static. I glanced behind us and saw my footprints leaving a trail for Jason to follow.
“The footprints…breathe…Jason will…”
“I’m counting on that,” Michael said. “I’ll explain when we get there.”
We weaved over and under fallen tree trunks and skirted several bramble thickets before he slowed down and let his hand drop from my back.
“It’s somewhere…somewhere…” he whispered to himself, looking back and forth between several trees and finally pausing in front of one with several tiny woodpecker holes gouged out on one side. He squatted down and pointed to the snow in front of it. “Here. Dig here.”
I didn’t hesitate, and I didn’t ask questions. I bent down next to him and started scooping the snow away with my cold stiff fingers. He ran his hand through his hair again. “God…you’re freezing your ass off…careful…”
I brushed away the last layer of wet snow with my fingertips and lifted up the arrow that lay beneath. It was just like the one I’d pulled out of the coyote, short, with a razor sharp tri-blade tip. And I had no idea how I could use it to protect myself.
He saw the bewilderment on my face, but he didn’t attempt to tell me everything would be alright.
“You’re going to have to let him take you, Catherine, and then shove it in his heart.” I looked down at the arrow tip. Michael was pensive, but quiet, while he let me get used to the idea. I wrapped both hands around the bolt and imagined it tearing through the muscle of Jason’s heart. I could still remember how it felt when it ripped through the coyote’s shoulder, the ragged tugging sensation, and I blinked hard and gasped, “Jason’s sick, Michael…he’s shooting up …” And then Michael was kneeling in the snow before me with both of his hands wrapped around mine. I couldn’t feel the arrow anymore.
“Jason wants you dead,” he said bluntly. “I don’t care if he’s the freaking tooth fairy on crack. You’ve got to take him down.” Then he closed his eyes for a moment, his brows furrowed together.
“Jason’s finished with him,” he said and winced. I wondered if the coyote was dead. I started to ask, but he held up his hand sharply and then tilted his head to the side and squeezed his eyes tighter. “Shit…he’s following your tracks back.” He opened his eyes and focused them on me.
“He’s moving this way. Follow me.” He stood up and looked around again and then led me forward and had me sit down with my back tucked into a hollow at the base of one of the wider tree trunks. My footprints stretched out behind me. He crouched down in the snow next to me, and held his hands up close to his chest. “Hold the arrow like this, vertical, tip up, near your heart.”
I positioned the arrow like he showed me, and he nodded tersely.
“Sit with your knees bent up in front of you like I am, so you can drive upward with your legs,” he instructed. “He’ll come up behind you, following your tracks. You’ll have to let him grab you so that he pulls you in with your chest facing his. Okay? And you can’t let him see the arrow until you’re ready to shove it into his cock-sucking heart. Got it? If he pulls you in and you’re facing away from him, it’s over. If he sees the arrow before it’s sticking out of his freaking chest, it’s over.” Michael flickered and rocked back and forth.
“Michael,” I called to him, wanting to reassure him.
“You’ve done it before...” he went on, not hea
ring me, “…shoved an arrow through…”
“Michael!” I said again, louder, and he looked up, startled. “I’m not afraid,” I said, and I wasn’t, because I knew our Angels would be with us no matter what happened. He studied my face and then touched my cheek softly with the back of his ragged forefinger.
“You’re not, are you?” he murmured. He looked away and rubbed his hand anxiously up the back of his neck, mumbling to himself, “She’s half frozen to death, can hardly breathe, is being stalked by her dope fiend ex-boyfriend, and she’s not afraid…you’re an idiot, Michael…”
We both heard a twig snap and froze. Then Michael concentrated hard on whatever it was he concentrated on. “He’s just left the path, Catherine. You’ve got time.” He sighed then and leaned away from me, staring off into the ghostly trees.
“You’re not an idiot, Michael,” I whispered.
He turned back to me with anguished eyes, and then spilled his feelings in a rush. “You were right yesterday. I was a coward. I’d never had anyone need me or…or depend on me. I didn’t like the way it made me feel…like all responsible for you...and I totally sucked at it. Shit, I’m still sucking at it. That’s why I let you think I was gone.” He dropped his gaze guiltily.
“Think?” I was shocked. “Think? So…you didn’t actually try to fade away?”
He glanced up, and then ducked his head again. “Catherine, what you saw yesterday…that’s just what happens to me when I try to leave the woods. I fall apart and get sucked back in. I don’t know why. But I thought it would be dramatic enough to keep you from coming back.”
I let my gaze roam over his dirt-smeared forehead and vulnerable gray eyes. He was still so lost, so afraid, and I was worried about what would happen to him if I died tonight, and he remained trapped here. I’d wanted to warn him about the demons. I’d wanted to explain to him about the song on the bridge so he would understand why I was so sure we weren’t alone. I wanted to leave him with something to believe in, but I didn’t have the breath or the time.
Instead, I pulled hard at the icy air and simply said, “It’s going to be okay. Everything will work out the way God wants it to.”
Michael pulled the Claddagh out from under his shirt and turned it over and over in his fingers. “What if He and I don’t want the same thing?” he said under his breath. Then he stiffened. “Shh. He’s coming.”
Michael’s breathing sped up, and he appeared suddenly crouched in front of me again, his hands on my shoulders. “You know what to do, right? Just shove it with all your freaking might into his heart, right?”
I nodded firmly and held the arrow tightly to my chest. I’d fight. With everything I had. Michael wasn’t going to see me die tonight.
He nodded silently to himself and then, “God! If this doesn’t work…if he…if you don’t…” He struggled to finish his sentence, but gave up and went on with his thought. “I’ll go over with you. Understand? You won’t go over the cliff alone. We’ll overlap. Okay? You won’t feel anything.”
I nodded rapidly, my heart rate spiking painfully. So much for fearlessness. He glanced down at my chest and back into my eyes, but didn’t say anything. Then he brushed his ethereal lips against my forehead, and my whole body warmed to his electric touch.
“I’m glad I stayed,” he whispered, and then he backed away and crouched down across from me so he could see better to count me down. His eyes were fixed on a spot behind me, to my right.
“Oh shit…here we go…” he whispered. “Thirty feet.”
I flexed my fingers around the arrow to try to get my blood moving. Snowy pine needles crunched under Jason’s feet as he came closer, and I had to fight to keep from squeezing my eyes shut.
“Twenty feet…” Michael whispered. I took a long, slow breath, concentrating on breathing quietly around the wheeze that struggled to escape.
“It’s okay. Let him hear you breathe,” Michael said. “You need to draw him right to you.”
I took in a deeper breath. It creaked like a loose floorboard in the charged silence. I heard Jason stop and change direction on the snow.
Michael nodded. “Ten feet behind you on your right.”
Michael leaned forward, the muscles in his arms flexing under glossy moonlit sweat. I knew if he was actually here, in my world, Jason would already be dead, torn apart with Michael’s bare hands. There was enough white-hot hate in his eyes to vaporize an army.
“Five…four…”
I leaned forward so my weight was over my toes.
“Two…one…”
Then it was one blinding photo flash after another, overly bright, disorienting, lightning fast.
I was already pivoting and thrusting the arrow upward when Jason grabbed my arm from behind and yanked me toward him. But at the last possible second, he saw the arrow, sidestepped left and shoved his hand in front of his heart to block it. The arrow plunged into his palm, shredding and popping his tendons as it ripped its way through. I kept shoving, forcing his hand up and back, and the arrowhead sliced through the outer edge of his throat, releasing a thin stream of dark red blood that soaked into the hooded sweatshirt he wore under his leather jacket.
I glanced up into his face and saw two blood-dripping lacerations snaking across his cheek. His eyes glazed over with rage, his mouth twisted in shock.
“Run, Catherine!” Michael cried, and I let go of the arrow and ran. Jason pulled the arrow through his palm, flung it into the trees and then crash stumbled through the underbrush after me.
“Go! Go! Go!” Michael shouted. I made it maybe twenty steps before my lungs sealed themselves up almost completely. Hot, slippery fingertips scrabbled for my left hand on a backswing of my arm. They grabbed hold and yanked down and backward, stopping me in my tracks, while Jason’s momentum carried him forward. He fell like a mountain on top of me from behind, shoving my left shoulder into the ground.
Something tore and then popped, and the fiery pain that exploded in my shoulder eclipsed everything else. I lay there for a long beat, with my face half buried in the snow, and then I was being lifted and dragged backward toward the cliff. My entire left arm and shoulder smarted with sizzling pain. I clenched my jaw tight and opened my eyes.
Michael was there, his deep gray eyes inviting me in forever.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, my breath barely infusing the words with sound.
“Oh, Christ!” he cried, reaching out with his hands and bathing my shoulder in soothing static. “It’s dislocated! Damn it!” He let go and swung mightily at Jason, and the pain inflamed my entire left side again. Michael replaced his hands on my shoulder, saying, “He’s dying, Catherine! You nicked a vein in his throat! He’s bleeding out, but not fast enough!” Then he shouted to the soaring pine rafters, “Oh, God! Please! Let me protect her! I love her!” He dropped his desperate, flickering gaze back to my face.
“I love you, Catherine,” he said. His voice was an impotent whisper that tugged and clawed at every inch of my frozen skin.
“You won’t be…” I gasped, “alone…your Angel…” But Michael was shaking his head, distrust and despair running rampant in his eyes. I couldn’t let him see this.
The wind picked up as we approached the cliff. It chilled the damp curls at the back of my neck. NO! This wasn’t happening! I shoved at Jason’s hand, peeling his fingers away from my chest, focusing all my efforts on his pinky. I bent it all the way back, farther and farther, until he cried out in pain and lost his grip. I twisted away, but he managed to grab hold of my right wrist. I threw all of my weight backward, digging my boots into the icy snow, yanking with everything I had left.
“NO!” The trees were opening up, parting for us. “Jason! Please!”
Jason’s voice rang out, absolute, but weakening, “Don’t…you left me no choice…I can’t…”
Michael wedged himself between us, as if he could split us apart. He glanced over his shoulder to see the edge of the cliff not five feet behind him and his own deadly pr
ecipice rising out of the dark, misty gorge in the distance.
“Oh, God no!” he cried. Then his husky voice was filling my ear, breaking softly. “I’ll stay with you…I swear…all the way down…”
No! No way! I hadn’t gotten through to him yet! I pulled backward harder.
“Please…Michael…” My teeth chattered with cold and pain and sorrow. “Believe.”
He searched my face incredulously, and the silver embers of faith in his eyes sputtered…sparked…
Jason’s good hand slid on my wrist, stretching and burning my skin. He was standing with his back to the edge of the cliff, pulling me toward him. There was no way I was going to stop him from dragging me over.
Michael’s faith roared to life. He looked up and surrendered.
“Fine then!” he shouted. “If you need her, then take her! Do what you want with her. Just, please, please don’t leave me here alone! Let me come with her! Please!”
Then his lips were rushing past mine, and all I could feel was Michael’s strength, and all I could smell was Michael’s scent, and all I could see was gentle light.
And then he was gone. Just…gone.
PART FOUR
…or something
TWENTY-SIX
PARADISE LOST
“THANK YOU, GOD,” I prayed, hoping that Michael’s faith had finally carried him home.
At the same moment, a burst of blinding light vanquished the darkness. It lit up Jason’s face as it engulfed the entire cliff top in a blast of midday sun. There was a second of deafening silence, and then a voice like a sonic boom thundered through the woods.
“EAM LIBERA, IASON FLAMMARUM VOX!”
Jason threw up his hand and squeezed his eyes shut. A ghostly breeze followed the thunder, carrying hissed whispers past me in a language I didn’t understand:
“Morieris, sed adhuc tibi est spes. Servari potes. In tuo animo eius sanguinem non cupis. Obsecro! Eam libera. Libera.”
When Jason’s eyes reopened, they were twisted with torment and fear. They locked on mine, and then he let go of my wrist and fell backward, disappearing over the edge of the cliff.
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