Stricken (The War Scrolls Book 1) (24 page)

Chapter Twenty-Three

Aubrey had been wrong—dying wasn’t easy. Death was torture, dark and infinitely painful. It burned like a thousand fires inside her skin, consuming her alive. She felt each one acutely. Every emotional pain and physical hurt she’d ever endured intensified one hundredfold and spread all over.

Her lungs burned.

Her heart burned.

Her brain burned.

Everywhere, there was fire and pain. It ate through her veins and into tissue and muscle. Through tissue and muscle and into skin, bone, and organ alike. She couldn’t scream or cry. She couldn’t run or hide. All she could do was lay there and feel.

She’d never understood the concept of eternity. Even when Killian had talked of how lonely he found immortality, she hadn’t understood. She did now. There was no beginning and no end. Eternity stretched on and on forever, burning, burning, burning.

Her father and Aaron.

Anthony and Mark.

Killian.

Every life that had been lost because of her family.

Every life that would be lost because of her.

She felt each one as Hell ripped her apart.

***

For years, Killian had not dreamed. And at some point, he’d forgotten what it felt like. As Aubrey’s heart began to beat again and the virus swept him under, he imagined he knew.

Dreams were peaceful.

***

Voices called to Aubrey as she burned. They whispered her name and Killian’s. They told her to hang on. That they were coming. That everything would be okay.

She knew they lied. There was no help in Hell. There was no rescue. There was no okay.

There was nothing but dark and pain, her punishment for Killian’s body sprawled across the rocks.

Eventually, she stopped listening.

***

Voices whispered around Killian as he floated. They called his name and Aubrey’s. They told him to hang on. That they were coming. That everything would be okay.

He believed them.

Somehow, he hung on.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Reality returned in increments. The whispering voices faded, only to be replaced by other sounds. The fluttering of a heart. The rush of air through a vent. The soft gurgle of water washing down a drain. Smell came next. The metallic aroma of blood. The earthy smell of dirt and grass. And…something sweeter.

Aubrey.

That name sent a flood of memories rushing through Killian. The virus. Falling. Healing.

His eyes popped open on a strangled cry.

He’d tried to Heal Aubrey with
La Morte Nera
raging through his veins.

Hands shoved at him as he fought to sit up, to find her. Words bombarded him, too many coming far too fast. He growled, trying desperately to fling their hands off him and get to his mate.

“Killian, stop.”

That voice…Killian turned his head in the direction it had come from. He blinked at the familiar face staring down at him. “Jason?”

“You remember,” the Elioud said, nodding in satisfaction. “Let him up.”

The hands clutching at Killian fell away. He sat up slowly, glancing around. He was inside…somewhere. And the Elioud boys—Aubrey’s friends—were gathered around him, all watching him curiously, cautiously.

“Where?” He couldn’t seem to form a coherent sentence.

“A hunting cabin,” Jason answered. “You’ve been here for two days.”

“I…” Killian frowned and shook his head. “I was infected and—” His eyes widened with horror. “Aubrey!”

The Elioud all took a step back as he lurched to his feet, panicked.

“She’s here,” Jason told him.

Killian spun on him, narrowing his eyes. “Is she—?” He couldn’t finish the question.

“Infected?” Jason finished for him.

Killian nodded.

“No.”

Killian’s knees buckled.

Tyrell and Simon leaped forward to grab him before he fell.

“Oh God,” he whispered as they eased him back down onto the bed. His hands actually shook. He couldn’t remember the last time that had happened. Or the last time he’d felt so weak.

“How am I alive?” he asked no one in particular as soon as the thought occurred.

“Her blood,” Jason answered.

Killian’s head shot up as another vague memory floated to the surface. Before he’d gone over the edge after Aubrey, Halphas had said something about her having the cure or knowing the cure. “Her blood was the cure,” he whispered, stunned.

“You didn’t know that before you tried to Heal her?” Jason asked him, actual surprise lacing his tone.

“I…no,” Killian shook his head. “She was dying, and I had to try. I had to…” He shook his head again, unable to put into words the overwhelming need that had driven him to violate a law so old very few Fallen alive today had been when it was created. He hadn’t thought of himself or the risk he was taking with her. He’d just needed her to live. And now, he really needed to see her.

“Where is she?”

Tyrell and Simon hauled him to his feet. The rest of Aubrey’s friends pressed back against the walls, making as much room in the little bedroom as they could.

His legs felt like rubber beneath him as Tyrell and Simon all but dragged him down the hallway. The walk seemed to go on forever. He was weak…he couldn’t remember ever having been so weak before, not even when the virus had raged through him.

Aubrey’s blood had really cured him.

He couldn’t wrap his mind around that or around the fact that he was still alive. He’d been so certain he was going to die. He’d
wanted
to die when he’d thought Aubrey was gone.

The heartbeat he’d heard earlier grew louder as Jason pushed open the door across the hall and stepped back for Killian to pass. The hellcat was the first thing he saw. The little animal was on the bed, curled up beside Aubrey.

He’d gotten to see them reunited after all.

“Aubrey,” he whispered, his gaze falling on her. Her face was pale and drawn.

Tyrell and Simon let him go.

He lurched forward, falling on his knees beside the bed. Instantly, he reached for her, needing to touch her to prove to himself that she was truly there. Her skin was burning beneath his palms, but it was Aubrey. His heart. His soul. His mate.

“Aubrey,” he whispered again. “Oh God, Aubrey.” His shoulders shook as he pulled her into his arms as best he could and held her tightly. He barely even heard the door close behind him as the Elioud shuffled out to give him privacy.

***

As Aubrey’s torment raged on, an angel began to whisper far off in the distance. At first, she was certain it was a trick. Another way to break her, to punish her for Killian’s death. But it whispered on and on.

Her name, love, and apologies tumbled from the angel’s lips and into her heart.

The longer she listened, the less death hurt.

***

“How is she?” Jason asked as Killian sat on the bed with Aubrey cradled in his arms and Zee at his feet. Neither he nor the hellcat had left Aubrey’s side in…he honestly didn’t know how long they’d been with her. Night had fallen and been swept away once more while they’d held their vigil.

Jason had come once to check on them. Simon had come twice to try to get him to eat. He’d glared until they both left. He regretted that a little, but he wasn’t leaving her. Not until she was back with him where she belonged.

“She’s fighting,” he whispered to Jason, knowing he owed the shifter more than hostile glares and frustrated growls. He owed Jason his life. He could have killed Killian. He probably
should
have killed him when he found them on that outcropping of rock and realized he’d attempted to Heal Aubrey while the infection raged through him, but he hadn’t.

He’d brought him here with her instead.

Killian had given her more of his blood. It was working, but the process was slow thanks to the virus still leaving his system. So incredibly slow he wanted to scream. Her body was battered and broken, what little blood he’d given her before barely enough to keep her clinging to life.

“Why didn’t you kill me?” he asked Jason, brushing his fingers through Aubrey’s hair. It was as soft and beautiful as ever. More so. She was still now, no longer writhing against the pain of her injuries. If he could have taken that pain from her…he would have.

He’d promised no one would hurt her.

Jason stepped farther into the room and rested his back against the wooden dresser across from the bed. “Because of her,” he said, nodding in Aubrey’s direction. “You saved her life.”

“I could have infected her,” Killian reminded him.

“Maybe,” Jason agreed. “But had you not tried to Heal her, she wouldn’t be alive at all.”

“You don’t hate me for taking that risk?”

“Isn’t there enough hatred already?”

Killian remained silent, unable to disagree with that. Aubrey had lost enough to hate. Her family. Memories and security. So much…ruined. For a war that had nothing to do with her and never had.

“Tomiel was kin to the Halfling who tortured her,” he said, remembering.

“Then he joined him in Hell,” Jason returned.

Killian let the satisfaction of that course through him.

He owed Jason more than he could ever possibly repay.

“Halphas got away.”

Killian closed his eyes, anger pulsing through him. “The demons are ready for war. Many of the Fallen-kin may side with them. It seems some already have.”

“I know, but we have something they don’t.”

Killian glanced up from Aubrey’s still form.

“We have her.” Jason nodded at Aubrey. “You know, until the demon told us why they’d taken Aubrey, we never knew her blood was the cure. Her father never told us.”

“He wanted to protect her,” Killian said, understanding how her father had to have felt. After he’d manufactured a cure using his children’s blood, he’d realized the risks were too high. When Aubrey was attacked, that had to have reaffirmed that belief. Had anyone known, his children never would have been safe. Unfortunately, he’d figured out the risks a little too late. Aaron had died in the fire. The virus had been released. And Aubrey had become a pawn in something so much larger.

The demons had declared war on the Fallen. And they’d risked everyone in order to ensure they won. That was too damned bad for them, though, because he’d found Aubrey before they had. And they hadn’t counted on his bond with her. Or on her friends surviving the virus and siding with Killian.

Tomiel’s rabid desire to make Aubrey suffer had backfired.

It shamed Killian to think he’d ever considered taking his own life. He hadn’t understood until out on the cliff exactly how much pain that had caused Aubrey. But out there with the virus raging through him, he’d had a moment of clarity or realization or something.

He’d assumed she’d bounce back when he was gone. That time would heal whatever wounds she suffered as it did for most humans. But out on that ledge, he’d realized that wasn’t true.

A person could only take so much.

And for someone like Aubrey, someone who’d lived with loss and guilt and regret and fear—someone who’d given up everything and even questioned her own sanity once upon a time—that line had been crossed with news of where the virus had come from. She might have been young and human, but she felt deeply. Watching him die and knowing her father’s choices had led to that moment would have destroyed her as surely as the demon would have.

Killian wasn’t sure why he hadn’t understood that before. But he did now.

Aubrey’s journey was far from over. She was going to need him to protect her in the coming war. From the Fallen as much as from the demons. Both sides would try to use her to their own advantage. And Killian didn’t much feel like letting either have her. This was their mess, and she wasn’t a pawn.

Maybe that’s why God had chosen to bond them. Because He’d known that Killian would put her first—above the Fallen, above the demons, above Heaven itself if that’s what it took to save her life. He’d protect her as she deserved to be protected because the Fallen and the demons had used humans for too long. He was drawing a line in the sand because someone had to do it. Someone had to champion Aubrey’s people and say enough is enough.

If the Fallen couldn’t do that, he would.

“They’ll keep coming for her,” Jason said as if reading Killian’s thoughts. He fell silent for a moment and then sighed. “You know the Fallen will too. So long as the virus is out there, they’ll try to use her for their own purposes.”

Killian nodded.

“What are you going to do about it?”

“The only thing I can do,” Killian murmured, reaching out to stroke her cheek. She was cooler. Less feverish. “Protect her.”

Jason watched him for a moment. “You’ve bonded with her.”

“I have.” By the grace of God, he had.

“Good. That means you’ll die to keep either side from using her. She’s been hurt enough.” Jason reached into his pocket and pulled out a phone. “Your brothers are expecting to hear from you.”

“You’ve talked to them?” Killian arched a brow in surprise.

“Your cell phone,” Jason explained, holding it out to him. “We found it in your pocket. I don’t know how it survived the fall, but it did. Your brothers don’t know exactly what happened, but I told them enough. The one called Dahmiel threatened to hunt us down one by one if you didn’t call him today.”

Killian snorted, unsurprised.

“He said they’re looking for the demon.”

“Good.” Savage, visceral satisfaction surged through Killian. If Halphas was still on earth, Abriel and Dom would make him pay for what he’d caused. A thousand times over. And then they’d give him death. It was more than the soulless bastard deserved.

Killian ran his hands through Aubrey’s hair again. When she woke, she truly would belong to his world. Not because of who she had been, but because of who she would be. Healing had a strange way of changing people.

If the Dominion found out what he’d done, they’d kill him on sight.

He hoped to hell they didn’t find out. War was coming, and he had a job to do.

Jason paused with his hand on the door. “She may belong with you now, but she’s still family. Whenever she needs us, we’ll be there. Make sure she knows that.”

“You aren’t staying?”

“Nah.” Jason shook his head. “After everything that’s happened, I don’t think she’s going to want us here when she wakes up. We’ll be around, though…in case.”

Killian bowed his head. “Thank you,” he murmured, grateful for Jason’s trust.

“You’re welcome.” He hesitated again. “Take care of her, St. James. She means a lot to us.”

“I will,” he vowed. It would be his goal in life to care for her, provide for her…love her. For as long as she would let him.