Enlightened (Love and Light Series) (37 page)

“Your heart, Patrick,” Loti mumbled. “If we can get to Wolf, we can . . .” Her voice faded into a whisper.

“You have to drink the blood, Loti. When Wolf—”

“No. You and I know this was pointless.” Her swollen eyes opened into tiny slits.

“But there’s always a chance-” Patrick moaned as the spasm faded, rubbing his arm. “I have to go. Katie and the coven are almost here.”

Loti strained her eyes to look up at him. “Why fight them? Just let them help you,” she whispered.

He shook his head. “I can’t take that chance. The consequences—” He stared unseeing at the block wall. “Well, she would have understood.” He shook himself. “But that’s neither here nor there. Choices.”

Zigzagging across the floor he said, “Drink the blood, Loti. You can figure out what to do next, but you have to stay alive.” Without looking back, he left her bleeding out on the floor, the door clicking shut behind him. Loti’s eyelids spasmed as her eyes rolled back in her head.

~~~~~~~~~~~

She opened her eyes, not sure how long she’d been passed out, and lay in silence, the amber bottle filling her vision. Reaching out, she grasped the warm, dry glass. She thumbed the top open, the white and red rubber stopper making a hollow pop. Lifting it, she studied the line of dark fluid half way down. It could have been a pint of beer, except for the thick movement as she tilted it. She flung the bottle across the room, blood spattering along the way to the floor where it shattered into a thousand pieces, the liquid oozing over the sharp edges. Her skin burned, and she writhed as it turned into a constantly increasing sear.

“Wolf,” The ragged scream reverberated in the shadowy room. She strained to push herself up, but she was too weak. He was too weak. She reached out and somehow found him through the strangling magic Patrick had set in motion.

Wolf

Loti

That was all they said, but she could feel him, his soul touching her soul as they lay together, miles apart. She wondered if this is what it felt like to burn on the funeral pyre by the Ganges, and as the image of the burning corpse filled her vision, a red, hot fury blazed in her mind. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be.

“DAMN IT!” Her throat felt like it was tearing open as she screamed. “NO!”

Wolf’s essence melted away like thin ice on the surface of a puddle as the day warmed.

A little girl again, she squatted by the puddle outside their log and stucco house in Geigertown, poking the melting sheet of ice with a finger. She squinted up at the brilliant mid-day sun, then back down to the paper thin sheet. It was almost gone. She smashed it with her little fist. Then without warning she was inside crisscrossing tubes of pearlescent white, just like the ones in Wolf’s lair. Too weak to move, her cheek sank into the cushion of energy. With a dawning horror, she understood the thrumming was the last thread of Wolf’s existence.

“NOOOOOO,” she yelled. And the anger exploded in her like a nuclear bomb, mushrooming through the tubes, through the room, through the warehouse, down the lines of energy all through the ground and air and world and sky and universe. It found Wolf lying in the middle of the furrowed field, his exposed skin charring in the inching light of sunrise, smoke streaming and skin cracking black.

The Jeep and Ford pickup screeched to a halt as the cloud of magic swept across them. Bodies leaped from the cars as Patrick pushed open the warehouse door. To the average human, there was just a shiver, like any one of the random shivers average people experienced all the time. But to the healers and witches and warlocks, it was a bone-rattling burst. Every magical being for a radius of one hundred miles paused as if on cue, gazing around them in wonder.

Katie and Patrick’s eyes met in a cloud of anger and confusion, both determined and sad. Patrick threw his hands up at the exact same time she lobbed a net of energy at him. It fizzled out of existence as it met his opposing oscillations. The coven joined in, attempting to subdue him, not kill him. He was one of them—they had worked with him. Katie learned magic side-by-side with him, from those youthfully proud days at Clark College to the tenured professorships at their alma mater.

And Patrick fought them all off.

~~~~~~~~~~~

“He’s sick.” Guided crouched behind a dumpster with Margarite. Hammer and Professor dived for the SUV when all hell broke loose.

“I know. It’s his heart.” Margarite peeked around the edge of the container. “He’s going into cardiac arrest.” She sent healing energy, trying to sooth his spasming prana, but he threw a protective shield between them. She blinked in surprise. “I was just trying to help him.”

“I think we should leave well enough alone.” Guided held her hand. “We need to give the coven the advantage.”

She gave him a horrified look, her mouth partway open in shock. “We’ve taken an oath to help all—”

“But not at the expense of the greater good, Margarite,” Guided warned.

She closed her mouth and frowned. She knew he was right, of course, but she didn’t have to like it. “We can help him, later.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

The lack of oxygen padded the space between Patrick and the rest of the world as his heart stuttered, unable to contract fully, unable to pump oxygen rich blood to his body and brain. He threw one last burst of energy around him, creating an impenetrable cage of vibrating interference and collapsed on the asphalt, puffing breaths. Katie rushed to him, slamming against the field.

“Patrick, please,” she cried.

He turned haunted eyes to her as she fingered the air, as if clinging to a chain link fence. He waved a weak hand, and she fell through, followed by a tearful Rachel. Then he waved again, his head falling back to the pavement.

“Patrick, let Guided through,” she pleaded, grabbing his hand, her thumb rubbing his palm.

“No,” he whispered. Her hand felt hot against his papery, cool skin.

“Please. No matter what you’ve done, we still love you.” Rachel sobbed.

He fixed his eyes on her. “Love is no excuse,” he wheezed, his vision blurring. “Do you remember . . . what I told you?” Rachel and Katie leaned close to hear him. “In the cave?”

“Yes,” Rachel whispered.

“Good.” His voice faded as he stopped breathing. The world swam out of focus, and he saw his mother and father. The lonely days at the boarding school on 18
^th
Street in Washington paraded by. Then Katie came into his life and a euphoric wave lifted him up and left him there, stunned and wide awake for the first time. The dark room in the basement of the Metaphysics Building—the moment that changed his life forever. Joe. Wolf. Rachel. David. Loti. Katie. His dear, sweet Katie. How he tried not to love her. White light, sweet, clear, white light.

~~~~~~~~~~~

“Patrick, hang on.” Katie pumped clasped hands over his heart and yelled, “Rachel, breathe for him.” She turned to Guided, standing just feet away. “His shields should be down.”

Guided tried to walk forward, bumping into Patrick’s fading shield. “Not yet.” He shook his head. The old wizard knew what he was doing, and after several minutes, Guided was able to pass through the weakening shield. He wrapped gentle hands around Katie’s wrists.

“Stop,” he said calmly.

She shook her head, eyes frantic. “No, no, no, no.”

“You’ll break his ribs, if you haven’t already,” Rachel said in a low, subdued voice.

Katie stopped, looking up at Rachel, her eyes rimmed with red, tear stains on her face. “What did he tell you in the cave?” Her hands poised over his still chest.

Rachel turned her face away, fishing for the exact words. “He said to ask you about purgatory.” Katie’s face drained of color. “And if you ever figured out how you escaped?”

~~~~~~~~~~~

Fiamette ran across the open field faster than she should have been able to, pounding the furrowed dirt in a desperate cadence. The two shifters, and whatever the other one was, caught wind of her and took off in her direction. She had no idea how she was going to get past them. Justin was a powerful warlock, but he was young in the craft; Camille was even younger. A sizzling streak of blue flame shot past her, and she veered to the right.

“Damn,” the taller shifter yelped.

He skidded to a stop, slapping at his burning thigh, cursing. She registered the shifter in the blue hoodie hurdling at her a second before he slammed into thin air and rebounded. He landed on his back, but jumped up and dodged Camille’s magic wall. The other shifter stumbled forward in a shuffle-run, rubbing his thigh where charred flesh still smoldered. Another streak of blue singed Fiamette’s hair and missed Blue-hoodie. He ducked and dived at her, shifting mid-air into a shiny black panther. She swerved too late and he barreled into her, knocking her to the ground. He snapped with glistening teeth and tore at her with razor-sharp claws.

Just then something exploded inside her head—like a nuclear blast of anger and agony. She shoved at the blackness, feeling fur and red-hot pain in her shoulder and the gray sky faded into view. A sub-woofer whomped inside her head, muting all sound. The panther shifted back to human, and Blue-hoodie held his head in both hands, falling off of her. His lips moved in slow-motion, but no sound came out. Misery tied her gut into a hard, tight knot.

“Antonio,” she sobbed, and then confused, she shook her head. “Wolf?” She looked up at the dawning sky.

Scrambling to her feet, she glanced around the plowed field. Burnt-leg clutched his chest, squirming on his side while smoke curled around him—Justin must have hit him, again. Justin held his head, stumbling through the furrows toward her. Wolf still curled in a chained ball on the ground, but something was different. She shuffle-jogged toward him, wincing at the pain in her shoulder and her mind.
Where’s the—whatever—the other guy?
She glanced around warily, but he was gone and so was the van.

Loti, I’m alive.

Wolf?

Fiamette heard Wolf’s and Loti’s voices in her head and picked up her pace. The thrumming in her head paused, and relief flooded her mind and chest, unraveling the knot in her stomach. She caught a sob in her throat and ran with all her hope. When she reached Wolf’s side, she dropped to her knees. They were all somehow inside Loti and Wolf’s bond. They could feel their pain, their relief, and hear their thoughts. He strained his eyes to look at Fiamette, who glanced one more time at the shrouded sunrise, then scanned his body. He was no longer smoking. Not only had he stopped burning, but his charred skin was the perfectly smooth reddish brown it had always been. She looked back, one more unbelieving time to the east at the first rays of morning light burning through the cloud cover. He was old enough that he should burn quicker than a newly turned vampire. She pressed her hand to his hot cheek, hotter than it should be.

“Would you get these chains off?”

Mouth agape, she nodded.
She saved him. Loti saved him
. Fiamette swallowed and ran her hands over the tangle of silver chain, looking for a place to start. Falling down beside them, Justin touched the nearest length of chain, and it snapped with a cold clink. Fiamette unraveled the chains, careful not to pull too hard where it touched his bare skin. Justin and Camille broke random links, peeling back the silver as Fiamette pulled a length off his neck with a ripping sizzle. Wolf yelled wordlessly through gritted teeth. The psychic blast still echoed in all of their heads, making it hard to focus.

“You have to hurry,” he groaned.

Confused, Fiamette yanked harder at the chains and Wolf hissed.

“What’s going on?” Justin snapped links and yanked and snapped more links.

“She’s fading fast,” Wolf said. “She’s not talking to me.”

Fiamette felt it—Loti’s presence, though she hadn’t realized what it was, was drifting away.

You’re safe. That’s all that matters

No, Loti. Hold on.

Fiamette shook her head to dislodge their presence, but it didn’t work. They were fading, but still there, and it was too much to know about anyone. The thinness of Loti’s presence scared Fiamette because she knew it too well. They dragged the last bit of chain off Wolf’s body, and he leaped to his feet just as the sun broke over the horizon. He gave the rising sun an awed glance then jumped into the air. Fiamette sat back on her haunches, staring after him. Justin slumped into Camille’s arms, his arms useless by his side. Remembering they weren’t alone, Fiamette twisted into a predatory crouch. Blue-hoodie stopped in his tracks as she turned all of Wolf’s and Loti’s fading, mixed emotions and adrenalin into a pin-point rage. She snarled as she lunged for him.