A Fire in the Heart

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A Fire in the Heart Page 3

by L. J. LaBarthe


  Lily sat beside the bed as she had done since they had arrived, holding Danny’s hand loosely in her own. Her eyes were fixed on Danny’s wan face, and from the set of her shoulders, Adramelek guessed that she hadn’t moved an inch all day.

  “Lily,” he said, moving to touch her arm.

  She looked up at him, blinking several times as if pulling herself out of a daze. “Hi, Adry. And Ondrass. Hi.”

  “Why don’t we take a walk?” Adramelek suggested.

  “By which he means, we’re going to take a walk, all three of us,” Ondrass said.

  Lily looked at them and sighed. “I don’t have a choice here, huh?”

  “I’m afraid not,” Ondrass said gently.

  “Okay.” She got to her feet, and Adramelek was once again struck by how tiny she was. Her personality was as large as a continent, yet physically Lily was barely five feet tall and slender, her short-cropped white-blonde hair framing her face like pixie wings. She took his hand, her fingers warm and soft against his own, and together, with Ondrass bringing up the rear, the two of them left the sickroom and walked down the long corridor to the door that led into the private garden behind the clinic.

  It was a beautiful day and cherry trees were in bloom, their scent heady and lovely. Adramelek breathed deeply as he walked toward a nook with a fountain and wooden chairs surrounded by roses and lemon trees. As they walked, breathing the fragrant air, Adramelek noticed that Lily seemed to relax a little, the grip on his hand gentling slightly as she breathed deeply.

  They sat, and Adramelek stretched out his legs and looked over the gardens. “Raphael really has done an amazing job with the garden.”

  “I never imagined you for a gardener,” Ondrass said. “I can see it now: you’ll beautify Hell with lavender and roses and plant catnip for the Hellhounds.”

  Adramelek laughed. “Hardly.”

  Lily, however, looked curious. Curious, Adramelek thought, was better than stricken. “Are there plants in Hell?” she asked.

  “Some, yes,” Ondrass said. “Not as you see here on Earth, but there are some. Most humans and shifters and, yes, monsters, would find them repugnant and horrible, refusing to see the beauty in them simply because they exist only in Hell.”

  “Hell has many beauties,” Adramelek said. “There are levels that are made entirely of crystal and obsidian, and the psychic energies are profound, more than the most elegant and renowned poems. The Lake of Eternal Fire and the Sea of Frozen Souls are beautiful too, existing as they do at the edge of Lucifer’s Castle of Black Ice.”

  Lily sighed and leaned back against the wall. “I didn’t see anything like that while I was in Hell.”

  “What did you see?” Ondrass asked.

  She shrugged. “A lot of darkness. Shadows. There was water, too. I could feel that the rock I was walking on was wet. There were strange smells, a mixture of meat and rotting food and then incense, like sandalwood. I could hear laughter and something that sounded like crying. I felt very alone, although I was certain I wasn’t. I couldn’t see anything that looked more solid than a shadow.”

  Adramelek exchanged glances with Ondrass. “That sounds as if you were on the first level,” he said.

  “I don’t know about that.” She shrugged. “I didn’t see any signs or anything.”

  Ondrass laughed at that. “Signposts in Hell. What a novel idea.”

  Lily took a deep breath, and her expression took on a look of firm resolve. “Can I ask you two something?”

  “Yes, but we might not know the answer,” Adramelek said.

  She nodded. “I understand.” She paused for a moment and then looked at the two Archdemons, her blue eyes intent. “No one will tell me anything. Oh, I get platitudes and the usual garbage doctors say when they don’t want to tell you anything. Raph’s lovely, believe me, but he isn’t telling me anything, and Danny’s my mate. Wolves mate for life, did you know that? It works the same way with shifters who are wolves. If Danny dies, I think I’ll probably follow him. I can’t feel him now, which is awful, it’s the worst thing in the world. But I’m holding on, because I think—I hope—that there’s a light at the end of the tunnel and he’ll come out of this. But no one will actually say anything. So… will he? Will he be all right? Will he ever wake up?”

  Adramelek sighed. “I don’t know, Lily. That is the complete, unvarnished truth. I simply do not know. Oh, we all have theories about what is going on with your young man, but they are simply that: theories. We don’t have concrete facts. Raphael is beside himself, I want you to know, because he does not want to fail you or your husband. All I can tell you is that everything possible is being done.”

  “Including some things that we Archdemons think are quite useless,” Ondrass said. “Not all of Raphael’s ideas are, in my opinion, sound. But he’s the doctor; I am merely a student and devotee of the more exquisite forms of torture. I have never seen anything like this coma that Danny is in; that intrigues me on an academic level, but on a personal level, because I like you, it worries me.”

  “It may come to appealing to a higher source,” Adramelek said cautiously. “Raphael may have to ask God for assistance. I think he wants to exhaust all options before he does that, just to be sure that there are no other ways. And if God says no… well, there is always Lucifer.”

  “I doubt that Michael would accept help from Lord Lightbringer, however,” Ondrass said drily.

  “He may surprise us all,” Adramelek said. “When it comes to his Venatores, he’s worse than an overbearing parent.”

  “True,” Ondrass said, and then he pursed his lips. “Would Lord Lightbringer intervene?”

  Adramelek hesitated a moment, listening to Lucifer’s voice in his head. “He would,” Adramelek said slowly, “but only if God said no.”

  Lily took a deep breath. “I see. That… that’s certainly better than I dared to hope for.”

  “That went past me a little too fast,” Ondrass admitted. “You take comfort from the idea of Lord Lightbringer giving aid to your beloved?”

  She nodded. “I do.”

  “May I ask why?”

  A small smile tugged at the corners of her lips. “Hell is honest,” she said. “Awful, yeah, and frightening, and from what you say, beautiful, too, but it’s never dishonest. You know what you’re going to get with a demon. Angels double-speak a lot. I love them, but I don’t think they’re something they’re not.”

  “That is a rather surprising view for a Venatores to have,” Ondrass said.

  Lily shrugged. “I’m a rather surprising Venatores.”

  Adramelek chuckled at that. “Indeed you are, young lady. I don’t think there’s ever been a Venatores that my entire guild has liked before, for example. And we all like you.”

  She blushed a little at that. “I don’t know why. But that’s all right. I like you, too. All of you.”

  Ondrass reached out and took her hand. “Then do not despair, dear lady. We’ll find a way to help.”

  She nodded. “Thank you.”

  MICHAEL WAS deep in thought, and those thoughts were not happy ones, to judge by his expression. Gabriel watched his lover, a pang of anxiety filling his chest.

  He knew what worried Michael: Danny. The coma that they had all so blithely assumed would react to Raphael’s skills and powers had, in fact, stubbornly refused to play nicely, and it still held Danny unconscious. Michael had visited once, and then he’d vanished, hiding himself from Gabriel for a full day, and when he finally returned—Gabriel worried sick—it was with the look of one who was haunted by misery and unable to leave it behind him.

  “You are staring,” Michael said.

  Gabriel started, jolted out of his thoughts. “Yeah, well, you’re pretty to stare at.”

  Michael smiled slightly. “I see. Then I should disfigure myself in some way so that you would cease?”

  “It wouldn’t work. I’d still stare.”

  Michael shook his head. “You are contrary, Gabriel.”


  “Aye, it’s why you love me.”

  “One of many reasons.” Michael sighed and sobered. “I fear for Danny,” he said, and Gabriel was astonished that Michael had come to the point without having to be prompted. “This coma is not natural. Raphael did not say such in so many words, but it was heavily implied. Our people are working hard, seeking information about the newly named TCC Corp., while Angelique’s pack wait for word about Danny and Lily sits at his bedside.”

  “And you, my dear Michael, sit here on the beaches of Belle Coeur and fret,” Gabriel said.

  Michael sighed. “I cannot help it.”

  “I know.” Gabriel moved to take Michael in his arms. He felt Michael lean into him, felt the slight tremors that coursed through Michael’s body as he held him close.

  “I thought perhaps if I immersed myself in work that I would not worry so much, but I find that instead of working, I worry.” Michael pulled back a little. “I feel helpless, Gabriel, and I do not like it at all.”

  “It’s unusual enough that you’re talking about this without me having to drag it out of you,” Gabriel noted.

  Michael frowned. “You do not have to drag things out of me. I tell you things freely and openly.”

  Gabriel smiled at that. “Not always, but we ain’t going to argue about it. Did Raph tell you what Iss was going to try?”

  “He did. I confess that I have doubts. How can music achieve what Raphael’s many arts cannot?”

  “Pied Piper,” Gabriel said.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “You know the story of the Pied Piper of Hamlin, aye?”

  “Yes, of course, a child’s story. But I fail to see….”

  “Music,” Gabriel said, interrupting him, “is the method by which the piper achieves his goals.”

  Michael’s frown deepened. “I see what you mean. But that is only a story.”

  “Aye, and to some folk, even after the war and everything that happened with the Holy Grail, so are we. Hell, the Holy Grail’s a tale for children in some places. Everyone’s stories have a basis in fact, solnyshko, even if we don’t think they do.”

  Michael sighed. “I suppose. Yet I am troubled, and I do not think I will believe until Danny is awake.”

  “You’re very fond of his pack, huh?”

  “Beyond my ability to say. Every generation or two, there is one pack who stands out above all the others, a pack who works together with astounding cohesion and possess great wisdom, humor, and compassion. I can think of six packs who have been thus in the past. Angelique’s is the seventh.”

  “Aye, they’re good people.”

  “They are some of the best. Angelique is, as you say, a brat and well deserving of the nickname that you call her—Trouble. But her heart is good, and her soul is pure. She is a skilled pilot and a fine alpha. Lily is the perfect beta to her and is courageous and strong and wise. Danny and Baxter are skilled kappas, accustomed to taking orders and following them to the best of their abilities, and Riley is a fine medic and omega, protected by the others in the pack, for his retiring nature and his shyness make him seem an easy target by the foolish.”

  “And they work well with Liam and Declan.”

  “Yes, your Necromancer and Tracker complement them very well.” Michael smiled. “I confess that I do not mind the mating between Liam and Baxter. You were right, Gabriel, when you said that Liam would be good for Baxter. He is. Baxter is far happier now than I ever recall him being, and that is good.”

  “Though everyone’s worried about Danny, and I reckon that’s gonna start making some of our people make mistakes,” Gabriel said.

  Michael’s frown returned. “What do you mean?”

  “The Venatores, for all they work in packs, think and feel as one. They’re all worried about Danny, and the longer this coma drags on, the more likelihood there is that one or more of ’em will make a mistake. Or get into trouble. Or worse.”

  Michael’s expression became stricken.

  “I’m sorry, Mishka.” Gabriel pulled Michael back into his arms and held him tight. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  “You did not,” Michael said, his voice muffled slightly against Gabriel’s chest. “You simply voiced aloud what I have been striving to hide from. A truth, yes, but an unpleasant one. You are right, and I must face it, and prepare for it. I should have my Venatores stand down until we know how Danny will be.”

  “You don’t have to do that,” Gabriel protested. “Just assign them missions that ain’t too dangerous or too sensitive.”

  “As you say.” Michael shifted a little so that he could rub his face with one hand. “Forgive me. I fear I have not been thinking clearly for the last few days.”

  “Perhaps a change of scenery would be good?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Why don’t we go to Portland and see what Ondrass has for us?”

  Michael canted his head to one side. “I suppose we could.”

  “Such enthusiasm,” Gabriel said with a chuckle.

  “Forgive me, I did not mean….”

  “No, it’s okay. I understand.”

  “You are too kind to me, Gabriel.”

  Gabriel pressed a kiss to Michael’s forehead. “You’re easily pleased, solnyshko. So, shall we go to Portland?”

  Michael nodded. “Yes, all right.”

  3

  BAXTER STRETCHED in the bed, unable to wipe the smile off his face. The last day of his heat cycle had been spent in a pleasant haze of sex and conversation, and now, with the new day came the end of heat. He was glad for that, although he knew the memories of the week with Liam in the cabin would keep him very warm for a very long time.

  Liam was in the kitchen area, humming as he prepared breakfast. Baxter rolled onto his side and watched, happy to do so.

  “I hope you’re hungry,” Liam said, without turning around.

  “Yeah, I am,” Baxter said. He stretched again, feeling the faint burn of aching muscles. It was a good feeling. It reminded him that he was alive and, more importantly, that he was mated to a very good lover who was also a wonderful human being. “So what time are we heading back to Salem, babe?”

  “I thought we’d head out before lunch,” Liam said. He turned then, and as Baxter watched, he brought two plates heaped with food over to the bed. There was bacon on those plates, and buttered toast and sausages, fried slices of tomato, and a large dollop of ketchup. Liam held out one plate and Baxter sat up, got comfortable, and then took the plate from his lover’s hand.

  “Thanks,” Baxter said, taking the knife and fork that Liam offered him as well. “This looks amazing.”

  “Hopefully it’ll taste amazing too, although you can’t really go wrong with bacon and sausages.” Liam sat down on the edge of the bed and set down a bottle of water between them. “So yeah, as I was saying, if we clean up after breakfast, then we can head back to the house and see what we missed.”

  “Hopefully there’ll be good news about Danny, too,” Baxter said as he began to cut his sausages into slices.

  “Shit, yeah, I forgot.” Liam looked stricken. “God. I haven’t heard from Dec. I hope that means good news.”

  Baxter nodded as he started to eat. He chewed and swallowed a slice of sausage, and then he said, “Me too. And I hope we can find these Transom fuckers and send them all to jail forever.”

  Liam waved his fork at Baxter. “Amen, baby.”

  They finished their food in companionable silence, and Baxter felt guilty that he hadn’t spared more thought for Danny. He and Danny were close, and he was worried about him; more than that, he was worried about Lily. What would she do if Danny never recovered? What would happen to the pack?

  As if reading his thoughts, Liam rested a hand on Baxter’s knee. “Everything will be okay. I’m sure of it.”

  Baxter gave him a smile. “I hope you’re right.”

  “Well, I won’t go so far as to say that I’m always right, but I know Raph and I know how goo
d he is at what he does, so I think he’ll be able to help Danny get better.” Liam got off the bed and picked up the dirty crockery, then went to the sink and began to do the dishes. “Why don’t you start packing?” he asked over his shoulder.

  Baxter chuckled and slid out from beneath the sheets. “I was going to have a shower first. If we go home smelling of sex, everyone will know, and we’ll never hear the end of it.”

  Liam turned to look at him, wide-eyed and shocked. “They can smell sex?”

  “Wolf noses, babe.”

  “Oh shit.”

  Baxter laughed and laughed. “Just have a shower, and it’ll be fine.”

  “Damn, I forgot your wolfy senses were better than our human ones. I wonder if Declan knows.”

  “Probably. Angelique wouldn’t let him wander around smelling like her. An alpha has to protect her reputation and all that. Plus, Mike would go postal if he could smell sex on her.” Baxter mimicked Michael, trying not to laugh as he did so. “Angelique, it is not seemly. It is not ladylike. Declan, I do not want you associating with my Venatores in such a base fashion or corrupting their morals and integrity.”

  Liam burst out laughing. “You’re eerily good at that.”

  “You should hear my Gabe impersonation,” Baxter said, heading toward the shower. “I’m told I make him sound like a Scottish pirate.”

  With Liam’s laughter following him, Baxter went into the small bathroom and turned on the faucets of the shower. The easy camaraderie he had with Liam here was comfortable and safe, and it gave him a feeling of belonging that he hadn’t felt for a very long time. Oh, he was part of a pack, he thought, as he stepped into the shower recess and tipped his head back, letting the spray of water sluice over him, but that wasn’t quite the same. Nothing had been the same since he’d lost his lover in the war, and Baxter was a little fuzzy on how that had happened—the memories seemed not to be there. He must remember to ask Liam about that.

  He quickly washed himself, then got out of the shower and dried himself off. Naked, he went back into the cabin proper and to the bedroom area and dug out clean clothes so he could get dressed. The front door was open, and Baxter could see Liam was outside, putting things into his car. There was something he wanted to ask Liam too; Baxter didn’t want to push that issue, but he was curious about what exactly the magics that Liam and Declan used in their protection spells entailed. He remembered that they’d been raised in Puerto Rico and taught Santeria and Hoodoo, but he couldn’t help wondering if there was more to it.

 

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