Angel's Messiah (36 page)

Helena’s eyes blinked. As the song reached its crescendo, Danny hoped the blink would turn into recognition — that she was being drawn back into his world. Helena closed her eyes as the song ended. If he had not seen the rise and fall of her chest, or heard her breathing, he would have thought she’d finally succumbed to what ailed her and died. His song had done nothing to warm her soul.

Danny guided Helena back to the bedroom in the cottage, for some rest. Perhaps her body was finally demanding she sleep. As he laid her on the bed her eyes opened again, and she stared blankly at the ceiling. He trickled honey on her palm as she lay there and licked it off, hoping to solicit something. She had so enjoyed being able to play with food, even if she couldn’t eat it. Her hungers, passions, needs and desires had died with her being, and he was sad.

Danny curled up next to her and rested his head on her stomach. He didn’t know what else to do.

“Helena, tomorrow we’ll hunt. You haven’t fed in almost three months. Perhaps a little nourishment will help to restore you.”

In the morning Danny helped Helena shower — she stood there and he washed, dried and dressed her — then took her to the ranch. The smell alone should have made her wrinkle her nose. The feather that Danny had given her to mask the peculiar odour that only she and the vampires could smell was back at the cottage. He was disappointed that it didn’t seem to bother her in the slightest. He sat her down on a tree stump and kissed her forehead.

“Stay here,” he said, knowing how silly that sounded. Helena wasn’t likely to go anywhere. “I’ll return shortly. Then you can feed.”

When Danny returned with a vampire who had been bound and gagged, Helena was sitting exactly where he’d left her. He pushed the vampire to his knees in front of her. In her present state she wasn’t going to eat the traditional way. Danny took her hands and placed them around the vampire’s neck. He closed his hands around hers, but her fingers refused to cooperate. She did not want to feed and they complied with her wishes, not Danny’s.

Danny sighed and sank to the ground. “What am I to do with you, Helena? Do you wish me to release you from life? If only you could tell me. I would do whatever it takes to help you.”

The vampire turned to look at Danny, wrinkling his nose at the stench of the place, his eyes questioning. Danny untied his bindings.

“It’s your lucky day,” he said. “You are free to go, but before you do, let me tell you something.”

Danny leaned over, pressed his hand against the vampire’s forehead, and whispered in his ear, “
Forget.
”

There was no way Danny wanted the vampire to remember this place or the exchange, or lack thereof, that had just taken place. It irked him that a vampire should see Helena in this state. Then it came to him that perhaps there was one vampire that may be able to help — Drake.

“My love,” Danny said. “I’m going to take you back to the cottage, to sit in the sun for a while. I need to pay a visit to someone. I won’t be long.”

After Danny had Helena settled on the garden swing he walked away and appeared in the sitting room at Gorema. Drake was not there. Danny gave the bell pull to the right of the large fireplace a sharp tug, and waited for one of Drake’s servants to appear.

“Sir?”

“Where is your master, Argyle?” Danny asked.

“He has left Gorema,” Argyle replied.

“Do you know where he is?”

“Indeed I do, sir.”

“Then I need you to tell me where he’s gone. It is important I speak to him straight away.”

When Argyle told Danny where Drake was he thanked him and left. Danny wondered why Drake would visit what had once been a small village in the place now known as England — a town that was now large and thriving. What could possibly draw Drake there?

Danny had to rely on his tracking skills when he reached the city. With hundreds of thousands of people living there it could be a time-consuming task. Danny called Drake’s scent from his memory, blinked, and ran through the city at speed, trying to locate even an old trail. At Helena’s insistence he had practiced extending himself and could now remain invisible for up to half an hour without any adverse effect, unlike Helena, who seemed to be able to do so indefinitely.

In a side street on the seedier, more run-down end of town, Danny finally found a trail, approximately two days old. He blinked, as he’d reached his limit, and followed the scent at a brisk walk — it felt an excruciatingly slow pace to him.

Drake had wandered from the city and out into the surrounding countryside. Danny finally caught up with him at the edge of a wood, sitting on a rock and tossing pebbles into a stream.

Drake heard someone approach. When the wind blew the scent in his direction he turned sharply to face the angel.

“What do you want?” Drake asked icily. “Why do you endlessly
plague
and torment me?”

“I’ve come for your help,” Danny sighed, “yet again.”

“Oh? And what could I
possibly
do for you, Danizriel, he who has, or had, everything?”

Danny sank to his knees in the soft earth and said, “Helena.”

“You try my patience, angel,” Drake said dryly. “What
about
her?”

“She is dead inside and I cannot reach her. I had hoped you might be able to bring her back.”

“Was my journey into hell not enough for you?” Drake scoffed.

“Please, Drake,” Danny begged, “if not for you or me, if not for Helena herself, do it for the one who loved you unconditionally — Gina. She would not want her mother to languish as she is, unresponsive to everything I have tried. Gina would ask of you this one favour if she could.”

“You are a
curse,
angel,” Drake spat, “sent to punish me for the aeons of pain and suffering I’ve caused mortals.”

Drake tossed the last of his pebbles in the stream and placed his head in his hands. Gina was so like her mother and yet so different — naive, young and fresh. He thought of her as the daughter he’d never had. He was pleased no end when she’d decided to call him
Uncle Drake
and had demanded to be allowed to see him, at least for a few hours, on a daily basis. She was not frightened of him and certainly he’d never given her any cause to be. From the moment he met her — the first time she appeared to him, alone — he had been captivated by her. He could no more hurt her than he could deny his love for her mother, try though he may.

“It is no more than I deserve,” he sighed. “What must I do?”

“Thank you, Drake. I am indebted to you once again. All I ask is that you do what you can to bring her back, whatever that may be.”

“And if that involves my taking her to the brink of bodily death?” Drake asked.

“Even as she is I doubt you would be able to do such a thing, but yes, if that’s what it takes.”

“And what if the only way to save her required her to drink from a mortal? Would you still be eager, knowing it would damn her to hell?”

“Ah,” Danny cried out, “such a dilemma. If I knew there was not a chance in hell, heaven or earth that she could
ever
die, then I would not hesitate to say yes, but she is not God. There is always the possibility, as for every immortal, that her life will be taken from her.”

“Let us hope then, that it does not come to that,” Drake said sombrely.

Danny stood up and brushed the dirt from his knees, smiling for the first time in months.

“Shall we go?” he asked, his voice full of hope, something he thought he no longer had.

“I cannot go to Eden,” Drake reminded him. “When last a serpent was permitted access to the garden of paradise it proved disastrous for mankind. I imagine the consequences would be much worse, this time around, if one such as I were allowed to enter.”

“Then I shall return you to Gorema and bring Helena to you.”

Drake slipped off the rock he’d been perched upon and put his hand on Danny’s shoulder. The two men walked together, into the lights, and finally back to Gorema.

“I shall return shortly,” Danny said. “I cannot thank you enough.”

Danny took Helena’s hands and lifted her from the garden swing. He placed an arm about her waist and guided her into the lights.

“I’m taking you to see an old friend, Helena. He wants to help. I’ll leave you with him for a time, and will return when you call for me.”

He kissed her cheek and they appeared in the sitting room at Gorema. Drake was standing where Danny had left him, waiting patiently. Helena stared directly at Drake. He knew she was not actually staring at him — she was staring through him as though he didn’t exist. That she had been in this catatonic state for months did not bode well.

Danny turned to Helena and whispered in her ear, “Call me soon, my love.”

Danny guided her the few steps to Drake, took her hands and placed them in Drake’s.

“Do not return until you are summoned,” Drake cautioned him. “If I am successful, then I imagine Helena will call you. If not, well, you will know.”

Danny nodded his head and left. He could not look back, and did not want to think of what Drake may need to do in order to reach her. He hoped that she would forgive him for handing her over to Drake so easily.

“Come, Helena, we’ll retire to more comfortable surroundings,” Drake said.

Drake held onto Helena’s wrist so she could not leave without him, though in her present state he thought it highly unlikely she
could
leave — she needed to be guided wherever she went. If she did somehow manage to transport herself away, and Danizriel could not locate her, she would do something drastic, he was certain of that. She did not care for her own life anymore, or for those she once professed to love, and those she denied she loved. And so Drake clung onto her fiercely.

It was interesting to watch Helena’s feet. They knew exactly where to move and navigated the stairs easily. Yet if Drake did not pull her wrist, she stood perfectly still. He led her to his bedroom, sat her on the edge of the bed and knelt before her. She stared at the wall. Drake placed his hands on the side of her head, to tilt it down, so that her eyes would be staring into his.

“The colour is different again,” he mused aloud. “Tell me the secret of your eyes, Helena.”

Helena didn’t respond. She stared blankly into his eyes. He shivered. He felt she would draw him into her, absorb him through her eyes, and he would be as lost as she was.

Drake gently touched her thigh, her hip and waist. His hand roamed to her breast and he let the coldness seep through her clothes, hoping for anything, even goosebumps, but she remained perfectly still, like a mannequin. His hand continued to her neck and face, tracing the outline of her lips. He ran his hand through her hair and tousled it. He pulled himself from the floor and pushed her back onto the bed, climbing on top of her, and kissed her lips. He forced his tongue into her mouth, and thought he would have more success with a cadaver rather than a living corpse.

Drake rolled over and lay on his back. There were a few things he could try, but the first thing he decided that needed to be done was to bind their wrists together. If Helena did manage to come back, chances were she’d be half-crazed again. Drake thought he could not afford to let her escape on her own.

“Well, Helena,” Drake said, as he tied the last of the knots, “it looks like you’ll be stuck with me for a while. If you don’t have any objections, I’ll continue.”

He placed his ear next to her mouth, pretending to listen to non-existent words.

“What’s that, you say? You can’t wait?” Drake laughed. “I knew you’d come back to me sooner or later, Helena. I just never thought the angel would offer you to me, agreeing to
almost
anything.”

Drake climbed back on top of her and leaned down to kiss her neck. It was so hot, and the throbbing pulse called out to him, but he had no desire to feed … yet.

If he could not bring her back he would not send her back, to Danizriel. Better to let her die. Drake believed he could take her life, regardless of what the angel thought. If he could not cure her of the malady that afflicted her he
would
take her life.

“Can you recall the long days and nights we spent together, Helena? Remember the things we did?” he whispered in her ear. “Would you like to do them again?”

“Yes, Drake, I would,” he said in a high-pitched voice, a poor imitation of Helena’s.

“I thought you might,” he drawled happily.

He reached for her wrist and bit down, expecting some sort of response, but he could sense nothing stirring within her. He held his wrist against her lips, hoping she would open her mouth and bite. When she didn’t, he forced her mouth open and placed his wrist between her teeth and pushed her chin to close it again.

Drake pulled her wrist from his mouth and licked the blood that continued to flow, until her body healed itself. At least her body still worked in that respect. It wasn’t the response he had been hoping for, but it was a start. If she could no longer heal herself then most certainly all was lost.

“Bite me, damn you,” he hissed, then complained, “This is
no
fun, Helena. It’s so one-sided.”