Conduit (2 page)

            She watched the white
shadows loom ever closer, closing in, consumed by hunger and time.  They’d been
waiting for this, but what had brought them here, and why? Why now?  Celia eyed
the child shielding itself behind the others, sure the
dybbuk
inside her
had led them here, to this house, whether by accident of opportunity or
otherwise she couldn’t say. The latter was something she didn’t want to give
voice for fear it might be true—something deep in Lizzie neither she nor any of
the other angels had counted on.

            They snarled, not sure
what she was.  They simply recognized that she held something they wanted—and more
of them appeared.  Worried, Celia looked back toward the house, praying no one
else came out.  Right now, the other humans remained safe, but she couldn’t
guarantee that would continue if the
dybbuks
suddenly spotted new prey. 
Right now, they didn’t realize what they hungered for was so close, and Celia
definitely wanted to keep it that way.

            She closed her eyes and
thought of her “father”—of Evan—a silent call for help that she knew he would
heed.  All she could do was hope she were in time. Ordinarily, she would have
counted on Lev, but Lev was mortal now and no match for
dybbuks
.  She
doubted he even remembered them.

            Rather than remaining
earthbound, Celia swept Griffin skyward, keeping his head against her chest,
her outstretched wings rocketing them up and up and up, away from the house. 
She felt one of the
dybbuks
grab at her foot as she ascended, twining
its vile fingers around her ankle.

            Mistake.

            She looked fixedly at the
dybbuk
. No, this wasn’t how she wanted to do things, but it had left her
no choice.  Against the night, Celia felt the light and heat—the power—build inside
her, driving the remaining shadows from the countryside thereabout and diminishing
the creature as it enveloped the beast.  From below erupted a wounded howl, and
she felt it loose its grip, leaving them safely out of reach.

            From where she now hovered,
Celia spotted at least three other
dybbuks
glaring up, lunging futilely
at her.  She knew their tactics well, though: exhaust the angel and steal the
vessel.  While they might not have recognized her before she’d shown her wings,
they now knew her true form.  She’d been trained against that, and there was no
way she was going to lower herself until they disappeared, no matter how tired
she got.  Maintaining altitude would be easier than trying to fight them off while
holding onto Griffin, and there was no safe place to put him.

            “Celia?”

            Evan had appeared beside
her, his wings not yet materializing against the night.  Still, his body glowed
with energy restrained.  He was ready.

            “
Dybbuks
—at least
four.”  She nodded at them.  “One of them almost took Griffin.”  She peered at
Griffin’s face, unnerved by the blood oozing from his forehead.  Yes, his life
force felt as strong as it always had, but he was hurt.  He needed tending, and
she couldn’t do that here.

            “Have they sensed the
others?” he asked, glancing toward the house.

            “No, I don’t think so.  I
mean, they might have initially sensed them when they headed this way, but they
haven’t realized there are more vessels they could take if they chose.”

            Evan nodded.  “Then I’d
best give them a better reason to leave than stay.” 

            Evan didn’t wait for an
answer but dove low, swooping over one of the pale, white beasts and settling
his hand on it.  Immediately, the beast opened its mouth to howl, but nothing
came out.  Another ambled up behind.  Celia called out, but, not looking, Evan
reached back to touch that one, too.

            His body shone brighter
and brighter until it had eclipsed the
dybbuks
.  Both bodies suddenly
went limp.

            The little girl gasped
and stumbled back, watching in horror as Evan dealt with the two remaining
dybbuks
as well, quickly and dispassionately until he came to stand before her,
snatching her up by the arms when she ran.

            “There is no place for
you to hide,” he seethed.

            Celia scanned the ground
for other
dybbuks
but found none and as such no reason to hover any
longer, so she alighted quietly on the porch and watched as Evan held the
child, his face a hard mask, one he rarely used with humans.

            “Why are you here?” he
demanded.

            “I…think you know,” she
finally said, still trying to pull free.  She was no match for him, yet he did
not hurt her.  He wouldn’t until he had to. 

            “It doesn’t matter what
you think I know.  Spell it out for me, anyway,” he growled, “just so we’re
clear, okay?” His grip on her tightened enough to intimidate but still not to
harm.   “She’s here.  She calls to us.”

Evan
clenched his jaw, a slight motion most would have missed, but Celia knew what
it meant, and neither of them had to ask for clarification about who
she
was.  Celia had no idea what the
dybbuks
meant by “She calls to us.”

            Griffin moaned and stirred,
dividing her attention as she nudged him back under.  He’d already seen too
much she might have to erase, depending on what all this meant.

            “How could she call to
you?” Evan demanded.

            The little girl gave him an
evil smile.  “How could she not?  We both know she is changed, and every change
has consequences.”

            “You’re right.  It
does.”  Evan relaxed his grip and softened his tone. In a panic, Celia thought
he might actually release the
dybbuk
and started to cry out.  Then the
light flashed through Evan and consumed both him and the little girl.

            When its brilliance had
at last faded, Celia found Evan cradling the child close, her long, dark hair spilling
limply over his arms.

            Evan’s eyes met Celia’s,
and Celia could see the distress there, telling her the battles she thought had
ended were only about to begin.

            “What does all this
mean?” she asked.

Evan shook
his head and regarded the child.  “I don’t know.  I’ll sojourn this soul and
see what I can find out in the Upper Realm about why the
dybbuks
suddenly congregated here.  You must ward the house until we know more.”  He
nodded at Griffin.  “How badly is he hurt?”

            “A cut on the head,
nothing serious.”  She looked down at him.  “I can see to it.”

            Again he nodded.  “I’ll
be back.  Look out for your brother now, Celia, for he is solely in your
keeping.”  He fixed her with a pointed stare then streaked skyward, carrying
the little girl aloft by wings now all too visible, his mouth a set, grim line.

            Celia watched him go
until she could no longer see him, then went inside with Griffin, wondering how
to answer his questions when he woke up.

Chapter Two

            “What is it about guys
and blowing things up,” Lizzie muttered, frowning at the massive explosion on TV. 
She sighed, wishing they’d chosen something a little less action-intensive. She
lay on the couch, resting her head in Lev’s lap as the bright colors from the
screen lit up his face.  They liked watching movies in the dark, both of them,
and that explosion had brightened the whole room. Too much, maybe.

Lev
smirked. “What, you didn’t think that was cool? Can you imagine what it must
have taken to create that one effect?”

            “Lots of money and CGI,”
Lizzie said, glad Lev was smiling for once, even if it
was
a smirk. 
He’d been so morose since his transformation, and she’d begun to wonder if he was
ever going to pull out of it.  She’d hoped for the best but should have known
better.  When he finally had, he’d become someone completely different than the
Lev she’d known before, which was to say he’d become mortal, an everyday human
being with everyday human thoughts, feelings, and desires, with everyday human
flaws. What else could she have expected?

She looked at him, amazed at how
quickly he’d become so deeply immersed in the movie again, yet another weirdness,
at least for Lev, who had once been so fond of the classics—and of Dante and
his
Inferno
in particular.

Lizzie studied his profile in the
near dark, taking a strange measure of joy in the fact he seemed unaware of her
doing so considering how, for so long a time, he’d known everything about her—everything
and then some. 

Lizzie reached up and stroked his
face, smiling, her fingers caressing his chin lightly, lovingly, which finally aroused
his attention.  His eyes gathered her in.

“That feels nice.” He touched her
hand. 

“And here I’d thought you’d forgotten
about me,” she whispered, feeling breathless under the weight of those baby blues. 
While he might not be an angel anymore, all that he was still held her in a
power from which she knew she could never break free.  She and Lev had been
completely and irrevocably joined, and there was no going back, not that she’d
want to.

Lev watched her, swallowed hard, and
slowly drew her to him.  “I could never forget you.  There’s a covenant between
us, remember?” 

“I thought I had a covenant with an
angel.”  Although she was teasing, she meant what she said.  Part of her did
wonder, after all, whether what they’d felt about each other had changed since
he had. 

“You’ve misunderstood, then.”  He
wrapped his arm around her, pulling her closer still.  “A covenant is between
souls.  It lasts as long as we do.”

He kissed her, softly at first,
gently, then more insistently.  When once his touch would have been light and
supernatural, now she felt the edge of human need urging him on.

She could feel the heat growing
inside her, intoxicating, as he held her so tightly, his body strong and
binding.  Even though in this moment, she could tell the difference—the new
Lev—she also sensed that other, the soul mate in him, and that made her feel
better—made her feel safe and wanted and loved.

Suddenly another, greater burning
spread through her, paralyzing her, a burning deep in her lungs.  She couldn’t
breathe, and all at once her world was consumed by fire.  She felt her body begin
to spasm and she tried to control it but she couldn’t.  She couldn’t do
anything.

“Elizabeth?”

Lev drew back.  She felt him staring,
searching.  She couldn’t speak, couldn’t even blink.  And there was pain, far
greater than any she had ever known.

“What’s wrong?” Lev eased her back on
the couch, shaking her.  “Elizabeth?”  His breath came frantically, and he
dared not let her go.  “Say something!”

I can’t breathe,
the panic and helplessness building in her thoughts
.  I can’t
breathe, and I’m going to die right here on this couch while Lev watches me go
and they blow stuff up on TV.

Lizzie gaped at him, wishing she
could reach for him, but she felt unconsciousness rush at her, an icy,
relentless wave born of some black, alien sea, and she could do nothing but let
it wash over her and sweep her under, dragging her into the abyss. In the
distance, she thought she could hear Lev shouting her name but couldn’t be
sure, not down there, not in all that nothing. 

* * *

When Celia carried Griffin into the
house, she certainly didn’t expect to hear Lev scream.  

“You have to breathe!”

“Lev,” she called, carrying Griffin into
the living room.  At the door, she spotted Lev kneeling beside the couch and
Lizzie lying motionless on her back, eyes wide and unseeing.

“What’s happened?” Celia eased
Griffin into the recliner by the TV.  His head was still bleeding, and she knew
it needed tending, but right now, Lizzie appeared in a more drastic situation.

Lev didn’t answer.  Instead, he began
CPR, a mask of guilt and horror on his face.  He’d done this—as though he’d
killed her.

Had he?

“What the—?”

Jimmie burst into the room, took one
look at Celia, and saw Lizzie on the couch, Lev kneeling close, face red with
exertion, trying to get her to breathe again.

“Elizabeth.”  Her name came out as a
breathy prayer, and Jimmie couldn’t move.

Celia rushed near.  “Lev, what
happened?”

“I don’t know,” he spat.  Without
taking his eyes off Lizzie, he ceased the compressions. He leaned over her, set
his mouth over hers, and breathed.  A second breath, and he pulled back. He began
the compressions again with renewed fervor. 

“Can you hear me, baby?” he asked,
his voice rising in panic.  She had to hear him—had to.

Her eyes remained dully fixed, and
the only movement of her body came from the CPR.

“No,” he said, about to lean over
again when Jimmie edged closer.

“Do something, Celia!  Save her!”

“Move,” she commanded Lev, but he
refused, so intent was he on the compressions, on Lizzie.

“You can’t save her. Let me try
before it’s too late!”

Numb, Lev stumbled back. Immediately,
Celia set her hands on Lizzie’s chest and let the powers come, her body aglow. 
In spite of its brilliance, Celia watched Lizzie intently, the whole time
thinking she would see her best friend blink or move, but there was nothing.

Was she dead?  No, there had been no
call to sojourn.  So what was happening?

Celia took a chance and pressed
harder, exerting more power.  Lev was already a human mess, and this—this would
destroy him.  It would destroy all of them.

“C’mon, Lizzie.  You have to do
this.  You have to!”

Finally, she saw Lizzie’s lips part
and breath return to her body.  Her eyelids fluttered, but her pupils remained
transfixed, as though she still saw nothing.

“Lizzie!” she called.  “Can you hear
me?”  She lightly slapped her friend’s face, thinking doing so would jar her
back to consciousness.  Something had to.  Lizzie was breathing now, which
meant she was alive, but still….

The brilliance faded as Celia allowed
the power to recede to her core, now hidden, where it waited to be summoned
again.

“Is she okay?” Lev demanded, pacing
nearby, his hands raking savagely through his hair.  He hadn’t a clue what else
to do.   He closed his eyes because he couldn’t bear seeing what was right in
front of him.  “It shouldn’t be like this.  All I did was kiss her.  Other
humans do that all the time.  Am I cursed?  Is that it?”

“Lizzie!  Wake up!” Celia said,
shaking her. 

She looked back at Lev.  “She’s
breathing, but I can’t get her to wake up. I don’t understand.” 

She gazed back at Lizzie, her frown
deepening.

“Call Evan!”  Lev stepped closer,
panic written all over his face.

“I can’t.  He’s handling something
else.”  Still, in a last-ditch effort to bring Lizzie around, Celia resettled
her hands on Lizzie’s chest.  They began to glow again as she tried desperately
to fix whatever had been damaged, yet whatever it was refused to be fixed.

“Lizzie!” Jimmie rushed to her side. 
He was pale and wide-eyed as he watched his daughter.

“We need to get her to the
hospital.”  Celia glanced at Jimmie.  “While she is breathing, I can’t tell
what has been compromised in her, and she’s not responding to anything I do. 
Until Evan can at least examine her, she needs to be looked after by a doctor.”

“Start the truck,” Lev said.  “I’ll
get Elizabeth.”

Jimmie left, wordlessly, and Lev
knelt to pick Lizzie up. 

***

When he slid behind the wheel of the
truck, Jimmie’s fingers still fumbled with the keys, but he soon managed well
enough as Lev climbed in with Elizabeth wrapped in his arms.

“I don’t get it,” Jimmie muttered,
pulling out of the driveway and heading out on the road toward town. The only
attention he paid to the road was staying on it. 

“Nor do I,” Lev managed, his gaze
never leaving Lizzie.  In the moonlight, she appeared all too pale and fragile,
all the more helpless he felt.  “She was fine before, but then it was like she
had a seizure and just stopped breathing.”

Jimmie said nothing, only drummed his
fingers on the wheel. Lev could tell the man was trying desperately to keep
from coming apart at the seams. How many times had he already gone through
something like this? How much more would he be able to take?

An eternity later, they pulled into
the hospital parking lot.  That’s when Lev felt Lizzie go rigid again in his
arms, her shallow breathing suddenly ceasing.

“No,” Lev cried. 

“What?”  Jimmie’s foot faltered on
the brake.

“She’s not breathing!”  Lev shook
her, trying to get some kind of reaction.  “Can you hear me?  Wake up!”

He watched her, horrified.

Lev jumped out at the ER entrance
even before Jimmie had fully stopped the truck. It took a moment for him to
gather Lizzie into his arms and lift her out, but once he had her, he rushed inside,
feeling his chest might explode from holding his breath.

“I need some help!” he yelled. 
Immediately, all eyes centered on him—the waiting room was full—including a cop
and three triage nurses.  When they didn’t move, he yelled, “She’s not breathing! 
Do something!”

The room exploded into action.  One
nurse grabbed a gurney and dragged it to where Lev stood, cradling Lizzie's
unconscious form.  Another dashed out, presumably to find a doctor, or at least
that's what Lev hoped.

"Here," the nurse with the
gurney said.  "Put her down here."

A doctor suddenly charged from the
triage area, gaze intent on Lizzie. He listened for breath, found none. "Back
to trauma,” he yelled. “Stat!"

The gurney was moving, taking
Elizabeth where he couldn't protect her—like he’d been able to, anyway.  The
thought was more than he could take.  He rushed after the gurney but made it only
a couple of steps before the cop cut him off.

“I’m sorry—you need to wait out
here.”

No.”  Lev tried to dart around him. 
“That’s my girlfriend.  She needs me.”

“I’m sorry, but you still need to
wait out here.  There’s absolutely nothing you can do back there except get in the
way.”

“No!” Lev argued, still trying to get
around the cop, yet the man, slightly shorter than Lev, matched him step for
step.  “Please! Let me pass.”  Lev was desperate now; he’d do anything to get
to Lizzie. 

“I’m sorry.  I can’t let you go back
there.”

Lev considered trying to bust through
him.  He was taller than the cop and probably faster, but Lev saw the gun in
its holster, waiting for the wrong move.  Still, what if Lizzie died back
there?  What if she needed him and he wasn’t there?  How could he ever accept the
nightmare he’d suddenly found himself in?