She could still hear Colin’s cries, his tortured pleas, the way he called for her. Why couldn’t they die already? When would this end? She wanted to dream of him again. He had been so healthy and beautiful and perfect. A sudden shout of pain made her squeeze her eyes harder as the tears hit the vinyl beneath her.
The door opened. Anna only knew it had opened because she heard it and the sounds of the man’s footsteps as he walked into her room. She kept her face buried and hidden.
He knelt by her for the third time. She could feel the chilliness radiating off of his body, that sensation of something being slightly off about him that unnerved her in such an unusual way. “Anna, I gave you a chance to stop this.”
She refused to acknowledge him.
“Do you want it to stop now, Anna? Do you want his pain to stop?”
She swallowed the thick saliva in her mouth, but kept her face buried in her arms. “I want you to go away.”
“How long are you going to let this happen to him?”
Anna kept her eyes closed, and she started to pray again.
Chapter 12
Colin spun around again, shining the beam of his flashlight as he arced the forest around him. He couldn’t feel this thing so he had to rely on normal human senses to find it. Maybe his senses were the only ones that were… broken.
“Dylan,” he whispered, “do you feel it?”
“Nothing, man. Are you sure it’s out here?”
Colin still felt the familiar stinging pain in his hand. Yes, he was sure.
“It’s a lesser demon of some sort. Maybe one of Haborym’s. They leave a wound of fire.”
Dylan took a step closer to him. “A wound of fire?” His voice registered the panic anyone would have when learning something was near that could leave wounds of fire.
“It’s metaphorical. Mostly.” Colin was too busy trying to find the damn thing to engage in a demonological lesson at the moment.
“Mostly?” Jeremy persisted. If anyone was going to have a literal wound of fire, Colin hoped it would be him.
“Sh,” Colin insisted instead. He was trying to listen for that buzzing noise again as the thing flew past him, hopefully leaving no more stinging burning invisible sores in its wake.
The other six hunters mimicked Colin, turning in slow circles, searching for an enemy they all felt powerless against now.
“Son of a bitch!” Dylan yelled, swiping at his ear, rubbing at a spot below the lobe.
“Leave it alone, Dylan. It’ll only make it worse,” Colin cautioned. He was shining his light along the path the thing had most likely taken, but it was either too small or incredibly fast. He didn’t see anything.
“What the hell is that?” Dylan complained.
Colin shrugged nonchalantly. “Wound of fire.”
Jeremy yelped and swiped at the air, but Colin ignored him. “Goddamn it, that burns!”
“That’s why they call it a wound of fire, dumbass,” Colin thought.
Colin heard the buzzing sound this time as it flew near his head, and he ducked before it could graze his ear. But he saw it. He kept the beam of his flashlight on it as it shot upward into the dense black needles of the pine trees around them. It had taken the form of a beetle and wasn’t much bigger than one.
“Anyone have a bottle of water?” Colin asked, keeping his eyes on the spot the demon had disappeared into.
“You’re kidding,” Jeremy muttered. He was even more obnoxious when he was tired, apparently.
Colin sighed and held out his hand because he’d heard someone rustling in a backpack for a bottle of water.
“It doesn’t kill it, Jeremy, it only slows it down.”
“It’s open,” Max told him.
He felt the plastic bottle being placed into his hand and he closed his fingers around it, still unwilling to look away from the spot where the demon had vanished. It was most likely still there, waiting to attack them again.
“We can’t kill it,” Colin warned the others. “We need it to lead us to Anna.”
Ben started to object, but Dylan stopped him. “From now on, Colin is in charge here. Just listen.”
Even Jeremy didn’t complain about being dethroned.
“Do we wound it?” Jeremy asked.
“Let me do it. This may be our only chance to find Anna.” Colin saw movement in the trees above him and tensed as he waited for the demon to fly back down. It was so damn fast. The fluttering motion of its body as it dove down toward them caught the reflection of his flashlight and alerted him that it was moving again. Colin held his breath. He was either about to slow it down or piss it off. He probably should have warned the others the pissing-off part was a possibility as well, but he figured it would have led to too many arguments.
It arched above him to strike at Max, and Colin turned, squeezing the plastic bottle causing a spray of water to burst out, glistening in the beams of seven flashlights like fractions of crystals. The demon-beetle got wet. And that pissed it off. It stopped flying and landed on the trunk of a tree, enlarging like a pulsing cicada, its angry chirping silencing the birds and squirrels and creatures of these woods that were meant to live here.
“Back up,” Colin warned the others.
Six hunters immediately backed away from the growing beetle angrily hissing on the trunk of the tree. Truthfully, Colin didn’t want to go anywhere near it either. But he approached it slowly, his dagger in hand. It was the size of a soccer ball now.
Its spindly legs scratched against the bark of the tree and Colin cringed as he inched closer to it; the clacking sound of its jaws sent shivers down his spine. He hated bugs almost as much as Anna hated snakes. If that damn thing jumped at his face, he was going to have a hard time not squealing and ducking, and that would most likely end his worldwide image as a badass hunter. But this demon bug just kept getting bigger.
Colin could almost reach it now, but the demon knew he was right behind it and its legs stopped scraping against the bark, its jaws stopped moving, its throbbing pulsing body stilled. Colin stiffened as well. He still held the water bottle in his hand and it wasn’t empty. He considered throwing the rest of it on the damn thing, because it had slowed it down, but it had also pissed it off. He really didn’t want to fight a bug the size of a goat or anything.
Not only do demons really hate dying, they also really hate waiting around. And this one got bored. It threw itself off the tree toward Colin’s face but he suppressed the scream he felt rising in his chest and stepped aside just as it flew past him, swiping his dagger across its legs and that piercing chirping ear-splitting screech filled the forest again. It was wounded, but it flew into the black woods.
“Follow it!” Colin ordered. He was already running after it, knowing that if he lost it now, he would lose Anna. If he lost Anna, he’d lost everything.
He heard the other hunters crashing through the woods behind him but his focus was on the mutant beetle in front of him. It was still moving faster than most humans would be able to keep up with; only Dylan was able to keep pace with Colin. The other hunters fell farther behind them, and soon, Colin could no longer hear the sounds of their footsteps on the forest floor. He and Dylan kept running.
The demon led them deeper into the woods, and somewhere along the way, Dylan dropped his flashlight. The only light they had now came from Colin, and it was getting dimmer the longer they ran. Colin had chased demons for vast distances before. He knew he wouldn’t tire until the chase was over, and then it would all catch up to him. Sometimes, these blessings really were part curse.
A narrow stream cut through their path ahead of them. The demon flew over it, but neither Colin nor Dylan had been blessed with the gift of flight. They had to slow down to jump across, and Dylan’s left foot landed in the water. He cursed and dragged his muddy boot from the stream, but the demon was getting away.
Colin had to keep moving. It was getting tired, though. The injury on its legs had allowed some of its energy to seep out, and it cou
ldn’t sustain its flight at this speed much longer. Colin and Dylan were able to catch up to it and it resumed its flight into the woods. They could hear the other hunters again, their slower pace allowing some of them to catch up.
The beetle demon flew unsteadily now, dipping and flitting drunkenly as it dodged the limbs of trees in the dark forest. It had shrunk again to the size of a cicada to conserve its energy, which made it more difficult to see, but it didn’t matter. The demon bug flew into a clearing and ahead of them was a camp, built above the ground on ten-foot stilts in case of flooding because the Amite River wasn’t far. It was dark and seemingly abandoned, quiet and foreboding. One of the windows was broken, and the hinges on the screen door no longer held it in place. Only the solid wood door behind it kept them from seeing into the interior. In the distance, he could make out the faint, distinct sounds of his fellow hunters still running to join him and Dylan, but if Anna were still in this forest, Colin knew he had found her.
Chapter 13
Dear God, please. Help him, please. I will give you my servitude for eternity, just please, God, please. Let his suffering end. Or take us both. We’ve tried so hard. We’ve been so grateful and we’ve worked so hard to thank you. It can’t end this way for us. Especially for Colin. Please, God. Can you hear me from here? Can’t you hear him? I wish I couldn’t. God, I wish I couldn’t hear this anymore. Please. Take him away.
“Anna,” Colin was nervous. She was coughing again. It was late springtime and they’d gone to the countryside. The lavender was in bloom and Anna had spent much of the winter indoors, so she’d been anxious to get out of London and into the fresh air.
When she first contracted pneumonia, Anna’s mother wouldn’t let him visit for several weeks. She was far too sick. But as she slowly got better, Colin had come to visit her almost every day, and would sit by her and read to her or tell her about his job or whatever she wanted to hear. Her mother let him stay for one hour. Anna looked forward to that hour everyday. She would watch the clock, willing the minutes to pass faster. There was little she could do to pass the time. She was still on bed rest.
She reached out to touch some of the lavender now and cast a sly smile at Colin.
“I’m fine, you silly boy,” she teased him. Her mother and father were nearby, picking lavender to take home.
Colin’s emerald eyes watched her carefully anyway. “You always say that, even when it’s not true.”
“You always worry, even when you don’t need to,” Anna retorted.
Colin smiled at her. “Because I love you.”
Anna knew she was blushing. She picked some of the lavender and pretended to concentrate on pulling the stalks. Colin knelt beside her and pretended to help her.
“Your mother didn’t like me reading you the news. She said it would upset you and besides, she said a woman doesn’t need an opinion in politics.”
Anna could hear the derision in his voice even though he’d tried to hide it. He liked her mother, he just often disagreed with her, even though he’d never admit it.
“According to Mother, I’m not to have an opinion about a lot of things I already have strong opinions about,” Anna replied softly, careful so that neither parent would overhear.
Colin glanced at her and smiled. “I know. And I love that about you.”
Anna was pretty sure she was blushing again. She’d known Colin for over a year now, and he could still make her blush so easily.
“Do you think the Scots are acting like traitors?” Colin asked her quietly, also careful to make sure her parents didn’t overhear a couple of teenagers talking about politics.
Anna picked a stalk of lavender and dropped it in her basket. She had to make a show that she was doing something over here other than gossiping with Colin.
“He isn’t above the law. We’re not the French. He hasn’t been working with Parliament, and now he’s trying to get the Scots to worship like the English. I don’t think that’s fair.”
Colin dropped a few stalks of purple flowers into her basket as well. “I don’t think so, either. But I’m also Irish and Catholic. I’m not as faithful to the English crown.”
“It’s your crown, too, isn’t it?”
Colin shrugged. “Your country seems to think so.”
“Well, Father is no fan of the Stuarts, but he thinks some of the people who are unhappy with King Charles here don’t like him because he’s married to a Catholic. If we ever end up with a new king, I just hope it’s not someone who will try to make us all Puritans.”
Colin snickered. “If so, we can go back to Ireland. Your church is basically Catholicism without the Pope, you know.”
“We?” Anna asked coyly.
And this time, Colin actually blushed. “I’m saving, you know. And I’ve got a second job now. As soon as I have enough money, I’m going to ask your father.”
Anna glanced over her shoulder at her parents who were still examining the rows of tiny purple flowers. “He’ll tell you you’re wasting your time. You’ll be a widower before you’re twenty-five.”
Colin shook his head. “That’s why I need to make sure I have enough money saved, and I can work in a career. I’ll make sure I can pay for your doctors.”
Anna sighed, a sad, heartbreaking sigh and Colin’s face registered recognition of where her pain was coming from. They’d discussed so many things they shouldn’t have.
“I can’t have children, Colin. You’ve always known that, too.”
Colin looked back at her parents now to make sure they weren’t watching them then gently took her hand and brought it to his lips. Anna felt that kiss everywhere, and her skin tingled with the excitement of his touch. She loved him so much she often thought he must be some gift from Heaven, because how could anybody make her feel so alive when she’d spent the last seventeen years so close to death?
Colin let go of her hand and Anna watched sadly as his hand retreated away from her. She met his eyes and smiled. “I love you, Colin Aedan O’Conner.”
The lavender fields faded and Anna was in a room, a modern room with a cream colored sofa and plush ivory carpet. Colin walked through the front door, greeting her with a sexy smile that made her heart accelerate, her skin tingle with the anticipation of his touch. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him and his fingers grazed the skin on her back as he lifted his hand toward the clasps on her bra. But the cries of a baby stopped him and his hand dropped, his lips pulled away from hers, and he sighed, “Do you want me to check on her?”
Anna’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “Check on who?”
Colin snickered and stepped around her, thinking she was teasing him. “Our daughter, Anna.”
Anna thought he was the one who was joking now, and it was a terribly cruel joke. How could Colin ever joke about this? Of all things, he knew this was something they never teased each other about. They rarely even talked about it.
She stared at the back of his cherry red t-shirt as he disappeared into a darkened room and the crying stopped. She could hear his voice, his melodic Irish accent soothing this baby, this mysterious infant that had appeared in this equally mystifying home they were living in.
Colin emerged from the room with a baby in his arms. She looked about seven months old, but how could Anna have known? She couldn’t have children. The little girl had dark brown eyes and a scattering of brown hairs on her otherwise bald head and she smiled and cooed happily when she saw Anna.
“Here,” Colin said. “I think she wants you.”
Anna shook her head. “Why?”
She didn’t want to hold the baby. She had spent her entire life avoiding them because children were the one thing she wanted most and the one thing she could never have. She backed away from Colin and the little girl in his arms.
Colin looked both confused and angry. “Anna, what has gotten into you? Your daughter is hungry. Would you stop acting so weird and feed her?”
He tried to hand her the baby again.
Anna could feel the tears stinging behind her eyes. “She’s not my daughter, Colin. I can’t have children. You know that.”
Her voice was so strange. At first, she couldn’t place the reason her voice sounded so unlike her own, so strained and forced. As she watched Colin shake his head at her and walk into the kitchen, she understood this new feeling, this overpowering new emotion. She was engulfed in betrayal. His betrayal.
Anna heard him sigh in frustration from the kitchen. “Do you think you could at least hold her while I defrost some of the frozen breastmilk to make her a bottle? Or should I just put her down and let her cry.” His voice dripped with the bitterness and hostility he felt over Anna’s refusal to acknowledge this infant.
But it wasn’t hers. It couldn’t be. And he was tormenting her. Colin was tormenting her with the promise of everything she had ever wanted: a life with him and their children. Nothing more.
He’d apparently decided Anna wasn’t going to come for the baby and set her down, and she started crying. Anna inched closer to the doorway of the kitchen so she could see the child, her sweet, angelic face streaked with tears, and her little arms immediately reached up as soon as she saw Anna in the doorway. Colin slammed the freezer door closed and shot her an angry, disgusted look, and Anna’s heart burst open.
Another tormented scream pulled Anna from her nightmare. She could still hear the crying infant and see Colin’s piercing gaze, and she shuddered with shame even though she knew it wasn’t real. And then, she caught the briefest hint of lavender, except she wasn’t sure if she’d actually ever been in a lavender field.
It had been so beautiful. He had been so beautiful. So young. Real or dream, she wanted to be there again, not in this dungeon, not in this cold room, and certainly not in that nightmare. She never wanted to visit that particular nightmare again. She would face eternal darkness or blistering deserts before the misery of confronting the only life she’d ever wanted but could never have.
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