by Amy Miles
The image etched clearly before her eyes. Forras, with a knife at her father’s throat.
Nothing had ever been so clear or urgent.
No time, a whisper swept her ears as if traveling on the wind. It was going to happen soon. Too soon.
She tried to keep to the path but the woods were so thick and dark, she kept veering off course. Prickly bushes and plants pierced and cut her arms and legs. Closing in on the boathouse, she pulled the gun from her waistband and held it up toward the sky, thankful for all the times her father had taken her to practice shooting. Little did she know then that it was to defend herself against demons and not bad guys.
Why had her parents kept this from her? Wait. Had her mother known what his job was? Was that his occupation back before her mother died? Could Forras have been after her father the whole time?
Once the boathouse came into view, she crouched down behind a tree, listening for any noise. If she took Forras by surprise, there was a chance she could take him out before the two in the woods came to his aid.
Several minutes passed, but nothing moved. Pointing the gun toward the building, she started to rise when another vision flooded her mind.
Their positions had changed. The demons were on the other side of the boathouse, heading away into the woods. Forras was on the floor, kneeling over her father, his knife pointed at her father’s chest. At least her father was alive and awake. But there wasn’t much time. The look in Forras’ eyes said it all.
She rushed toward the boathouse until she reached the back corner, and then crouched down. Edging toward one of the dusty windows, she stretched up, trying to peer inside, but all she could see was darkness. She needed to know where inside the building her father was. Now would be a good time for another vision, but they only seemed to come at random.
She couldn’t just go in there, shooting blindly. What if she shot her dad instead of Forras? She could feel her anxiety trying to take over again, the weight of the gun heavy and ominous in her hand. Maybe she should just try to get the gun to him. Her father was the better shot between them anyway, not to mention the one with experience killing demons.
She looked at the gun as a sudden realization struck her. How could she have been so stupid? She hadn’t even checked to see if there were bullets in it. Wanting to kick herself, she slid the cylinder open and spun it. To her relief, each chamber held a bullet. Six shots. Hopefully that would be enough.
Flipping it closed, she pulled the hammer back. But how would she get close enough to guarantee the shot? Older weapons tended to lack the accuracy of modern guns, and this revolver was the oldest she’d ever held. She needed a plan. It was one of the things her father had taught her, to always have a plan before you execute it. If the element of surprise could be used to your advantage, that was your best course of action.
Crouching in the darkness beside the boathouse, she ran through several scenarios in her head, but each ended in an undesirable outcome. Then another vision flashed. She braced her head in her hands, gritting her teeth against the pain as the scene played out in her mind.
Captured by two demons, they dragged her into the boathouse.
That was it. Her plan. She would give herself up. They wouldn’t know she had the gun. She could pretend she was running to Alexander’s house and scream into the night, acting frantic with worry. Gremory and Donn weren’t very bright. It could work. It had to work.
Hold on just a little longer, Dad.
She slipped away from the boathouse then backtracked into the woods, headed in the other direction. Before she had a chance to rethink it, she began running through the woods, the gun tucked in her waistband. “Alex. Someone, please help!”
It didn’t take more than a couple of minutes for Forras’ goons to fall for her plan.
“Look at what we have here.” Gremory sauntered toward her, Donn two steps behind him.
She stopped dead in her tracks as they blocked her path.
“Forras will be so pleased,” the other demon added.
“Poor little Gabby. Did you finally figure out your daddy was missing? Took you long enough.” He stepped closer. “News flash. We’ve got him. And now we have you.” Gremory’s laughter made her want to pull the gun out and shoot him on the spot but that wouldn’t help her get any closer to her dad. She had to use restraint and allow Gremory his fun if her plan was going to work.
They grabbed her upper arms and began pulling her back through the woods. She kicked and screamed, no longer just acting. Fear gripped her and she desperately tried to pull free and reach for the gun. They were dragging her away from her father, deeper into the woods.
“You thought you knew Forras’ plan, didn’t you? Such a naive little girl.” Gremory reached behind her back and pulled the gun from her shorts. “I think I’ll take that for now.”
Gremory tossed the gun up in the air with his free hand. “So this is your daddy’s famous gun, huh?” he said, catching it by the barrel. “Doesn’t look like much to me.”
“Let me have it then.” Gabby pulled harder but their grip on her arms only tightened more.
“No, I think I’ll hold onto it for a while.”
“You’re nothing more than a pet,” Gabby spat at him. “A slave to Forras. A fool!” She kicked at the dirt, fighting with every ounce of strength she had, but it was no use. They were too strong.
“You think you’re so smart?” Gremory snipped.
“Alexander’s the fool.” Forras’ voice cut through the night and her heart trembled.
Gremory let go of her arm as Forras walked up. His eyes glowed red, hatred oozing from his wart-covered gray skin. He grasped her chin with one clawed hand and tilted her face up, forcing her to look at him. “You’re so naive. Did you really think I didn’t know you would come for your dear old dad? I counted on it.” One claw pressed harder against her skin and she grimaced in pain. Unrelenting, his claw finally punctured her cheek and she cried out as fiery pain erupted in the side of her face, radiating down to the burn mark on her abdomen.
“Now all I need is for Alexander to come swooping in to rescue you all. He’ll be so distracted trying to save everyone, he’ll run right into the sword.”
Forras released her face with a jerk.
Her eyes stung with tears and her cheek burned. What had she done? She’d tried to help, to use her gift to save her father. But now she was Forras’ bait to lure Alexander to his death.
Forras glanced over his shoulder at Gremory as he walked away. “Bury her alive.”
****
“We have to hurry,” Alexander said as he reached the top of the ridge where Boon stood waiting for him. He stumbled as a wave of fear and horror welled up inside him. “Something’s wrong.”
Boon reached out to steady him. “What is it?”
Was it just his powers returning now that he had left the cursed land behind him? He leaned against Boon for a moment, waiting for his head to clear, but it didn’t.
No. Something was definitely wrong.
“Wait,” Boon said. “I feel it now, too. Alexander, I think everyone’s in trouble back home. I can fly faster than you. Let me take the medicine to Grace and join you—”
“Yes,” Alexander cut him off. He handed the vial of amethyst liquid to Boon. “Here, take it. But once you’ve given it to Grace, try to find Bruce. I think he’s in trouble, too. I’ll help Gabby. Between all of us, maybe we’ll have a chance.”
Boon stared at the vial in his hand then looked at Alexander. “What did Herak do to you? Are you really Alexander Lorre?” Boon said with a wicked grin.
“Yes.” Alexander gave him a weak smile in return. “We’ll talk later. But for now go, my friend, and save the woman you love.” Alexander felt a tinge of heat rise in his cheeks.
Boon stared at him, eyes wide. He accepted Alexander’s offered hand. “I take it you know what I am.”
“Yes, and I’m sorry. Now, spread those Raven wings of yours and get moving.”
&
nbsp; “You’ve read too much Edgar Allen Poe.” Boon smirked as he pushed from the ground.
Alexander took a deep breath and took off after him. His wings released from their confinement with a sigh of relief. How had Herak lived so long in that place?
Boon must have been going easy on him on the way to Herak’s. Now, even with Alexander flying as fast as he could, there wasn’t a sign of him in the clear night sky.
Spreading his wings out, using every air current to his advantage, Alexander hurried back home to find Gabby. The wind caressed his feathers as he flapped vigorously, pushing through the air, pushing the past away from him. This was as close to Heaven as he could get, for now.
Pumping his wings harder, faster, desperate to bridge the gap between them he soared over islands.
A flash tore through his mind and he nearly halted in mid-air.
Dirt.
Gasping.
Gabby.
Terror gripped him and his wings folded without warning as he plunged toward earth.
The vision played out over and over again. His heart pounded against his chest. His folded wings shook but no matter how hard he tried, they wouldn’t extend. He gasped and fought to stay in the air but the solid lump in his chest was weighing him down, pulling him toward the ground. The same lump that had grounded him the night of the crash. The same weight that had kept him from flying for a year.
No. He had to fly. Gabby was in trouble.
Fighting to stay aloft, he kicked his legs and flailed his arms like a bird, but still his wings were paralyzed with fear.
Too late, he smashed against the ground with the force of a meteor. Dirt and mud flung up all around him, his arms and legs twisted beneath him. He couldn’t move, but it wasn’t from the physical pain. It was the weight in his chest.
“Gabby.” The whisper barely left his lips. He tried to roll over, but could only lay there as the dream came true. There was no way to stop it. No way to reach her in time.
He felt each struggled breath she took, her nails clawing the inside of a wooden box. Her screams and moans of terror filled his head. The sound of dirt hitting the sealed box pounded against his lungs in a rhythmic pattern. They were connected somehow. Dreams, feelings, and physical pain—they experienced them together.
He finally managed to roll over onto his knees. There was nothing else he could do. Even if he could fly, there would be no way he could reach her in time from this desolate island. There was only one thing left to do. Let her go. Pray to God that He take her quickly and painlessly.
Doubled over, he brought his muddied hands together, clasping them in front of his face. His body convulsed with the thought of never seeing her again. Never holding her in his arms. Forever separated by the two worlds. Still, he had to save her the only way he could.
Alexander heaved a strained breath and prayed. “Dear God, please.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Alexander looked up to Heaven. “Please. Please, don’t let her suffer. Please take her home. I realize now that this was never in my hands. Only You can save her.”
Short choking breaths echoed in his mind. He cried out, breathless, as his chest constricted. She was at Death’s door. The connection between them would soon be severed, forever. If only there was a way to reach her, to hold her as she passed.
“I would rather suffer for eternity than cause her further pain. Please release her from her suffering.” Collapsing to the ground, he dug his hands into the mud.
But it wasn’t mud. Soft dirt ran through his fingers.
He opened his eyes to see gray, sandy dirt, the twisted limbs of old oak trees, grass and moss. Florida. The distinctive smell of the Gulf Coast ocean breeze mixed with pine and orange sent his heart soaring. Never had it looked so beautiful.
The sand beneath him looked like it had recently been disturbed. Swirl patterns and shoe prints packed it down in front of a blank tombstone.
My vision…graveyard.
He’d used an old angel power to travel between spaces. He was back in Kemp, in a graveyard. The power must’ve been granted back to him. It wasn’t too late. He could save her.
Sand exploded around him as he clawed at the ground. “Hold on, Gabby. I’m here!”
Demonic laughter sounded in the distance.
The vivid dream came back to him as he dug. The dirt spilled back in as he scraped it from the hole. Concentrating all his energy, he punched his hands into the earth, his fingers stretched out in an attempt to feel something.
Anything.
Nothing. There was nothing but sand.
“Gabby,” he whispered, as his fear returned.
“You’re week and pathetic,” Forras shouted.
Alexander ignored his taunts and focused on finding Gabby. Two of his fingers raked across a rough hard edge. A root of a tree? A jolt of electricity raced through his body. The box. Flexing his wrist, he grabbed hold of it and pulled.
Still, she remained trapped beneath the sand.
Forras laughed from somewhere in the darkness. “You’ll never save her.”
Keeping his hold on the one corner, he ran his other hand down along the edge, feeling for the opposite corner. His pulse hammered against his neck as he pushed through the sand. Then, gripping the sides at one end of the long box, he yanked it from the Earth with every last ounce of his energy.
Ripping the lid off, he snatched her out, cradling her in his arms. Sand cascaded from her face. Ropes bound her wrists, the skin beneath raw and bloody. Her hair had grayed from the dirt, her face white as the moon, but she breathed, faintly.
“Gabby? I’m here, my love. I’m here.” Brushing hair and sand away from her face, he embraced her. “Thank God,” he whispered.
He scanned her dirty clothes and long legs for wounds but found only the blood at her wrists and a puncture wound on her face.
As his head lifted, her eyes fluttered open, but they had changed. Death danced black as night across her irises, no longer the beautiful sky color he remembered. She’d experienced the after-life, if just for a moment.
She lay frozen in his arms, her pupils fixed. “Gabby.” He swept her face with butterfly kisses, the gritty taste of dirt and salt coating his lips and tongue. “Please, be okay. I love you with every breath of my being.”
He continued to stroke the coarse sand from her hair as he rocked. Pulling tighter, he yelled into the night, “Death, release her!”
Pressing his lips to her forehead, he concentrated on the darkness within her. With every current of energy that left his body and penetrated hers, the darkness faded. And still, her eyes remained a pair of black holes.
“Listen to me,” Alexander pleaded. He took her face in his hands. Soft droplets of sweat trickled from her hairline onto his skin. “Fight, Gabby. I can only do so much. You are stuck between two worlds, Baby. Please, don’t let Death win. Rise from the darkness and you will be in my arms once again. Or go home to Heaven. Just don’t stay with Death.”
Alexander continued to rock her as they sat below the moss covered old oak trees. “I love you more than all the stars in the sky, but please, go home if you must. I can’t bear to see you suffering.”
A silver spark flashed in the center of her eyes and his heart soared. “Yes, Gabby. Fight!”
The silver light spread out from the center, with a wave of blue following behind, returning her eyes to almost their natural color. Alexander’s pulse pounded against his neck.
“A-Alex—” Gabby rasped.
“Yes, Baby. It’s me. I’m h—”
Something grabbed Alexander from behind. He flew backward across the sand and slammed against a tree. The force ripped Gabby from his arms and she landed limp against a tree root.
“Well, ain’t that touching?” Forras snarled. “You think you’ve put a wrench in my plans? That you’re the hero again? Well, there’s still more to this show.” Forras raised an ashen-clawed hand overhead. Gremory and several other demons stepped out from behind the tree
s, intermittently dispersed around the graveyard. Each one looked different, some with horns, others with tails, but all of their eyes were glowing various shades of evil.
“I’m not sure how you got past them, but I’ve got you now.”
Anger welled up inside Alexander at the sight of them, at what they had done to Gabby, but he forced it down. He bit his tongue, sending the tingling taste of iron down the back of his throat. He didn’t have a chance of winning in a fight against all of them, while also trying to protect Gabby. Not even with his renewed powers. But he wasn’t about to let them have their way either.
The demons closed in as Forras ran a claw down Gabby’s jaw line. His blood orange eyes glared at Alexander, taunting him.
Alexander fought to maintain control to think and formulate a plan instead of lashing out. Not even when Forras’ lips peeled back into a menacing grin, exposing his sharp extended fangs, did Alex move.
“What’s wrong?” Forras taunted. “Alexander doesn’t want to play?” He pulled Gabby’s face to his and planted a kiss firmly on her lips. Gabby squirmed under him.
Unable to remain still any longer, Alexander leapt across several gravestones and slammed into Forras’ side.
“That’s better.” Forras smirked. “Now, let’s have some fun.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Demons surrounded Alexander.
“Stop!” Gabby screamed. Forras’ distinctive scent of rancid rotting fruit and bile intensified the drive to free herself. Coarse rope fibers cut into the skin of her wrists as she tried to pull free, but the more she scraped against the rough tree bark, the more they loosened.
Her skin burned, rubbed raw from the ropes. Blood trickled from small cuts, but they didn’t stop her. Nothing would. She’d use her own blood to lubricate her hands if she had to.
Feverishly, she worked against the rope. Droplets of sweat dripped down her back and face, stinging her eyes. She raised her shoulder and attempted to mop her face, only to wince in pain.