Empower (47 page)

‘No. I’ve had that thought myself. Doesn’t mean we’d change things, though.’

There was a pause before Lincoln added, ‘What you did … Drenson. How are you dealing with it?’

I could almost hear Spence’s shrug. ‘Not like I look back on it with regret, if that’s what you mean. It was him or her, which meant there was no other option. And it helps that no one locked me up.’

‘I agree.’ Another pause, and then, ‘But?’

Spence sighed. ‘Yeah. Just wish he hadn’t been such a dick, I suppose.’

‘Yeah. Me too.’

‘So, what happens if she wakes up?’

‘When,’ Lincoln corrected.

‘When,’ Spence confirmed.

‘That’s up to her.’

‘What if she wants to go back to London? Stay with the Rogues?’

‘Then that’s what we’ll do.’

I waited for Spence to make some kind of barbed comment, but none came. Instead, he just said, ‘Fair enough, man. I hope you two get your chance at
happiness. You deserve it. Call me if there’s any change.’

‘You got it.’

Time passed from there. I could hear machines beep. And more people as they came and went. Steph was a constant. She talked about her wedding and deliberated over candles or lanterns, sit-down dinner or cocktail-party receptions, honeymoon locations and music until I would sense her slump beside me, and sob as she begged me to wake up.

Dapper read books to me. Ancient tales intended for few to hear. Onyx came with him, throwing in his own biased recollections of particular events. And all the while I lay still, wishing I could heal myself, but my power remained dormant. Or gone.

I heard Phoenix come and go. Unlike the others he didn’t speak to me, but when he was there he always held my hand.

‘I know you still love her,’ Lincoln said, his tone matter-of-fact.

‘I’ll always love her. But she has always and will always love you. I won’t ever stand in your way again.’

‘That might be wise since you’re significantly easier to hurt nowadays.’

I felt their smiles.

‘What are you going to do now?’ Lincoln went on.

‘Wait for her to open her eyes and say the words we all need to hear her say.’

The darkness pulled me under after that.

Finally, dreams started to flit into the
darkness. Growing up with Dad. Silly moments, such as making him a Father’s Day painting and breakfast in bed only to realise when I snuck into his room that he’d already left for work. And other things; the look of desperation on his face when he’d come to collect me from the hospital after a teacher had attacked and very nearly raped me. I’d never seen how badly that broke him at the time, but watching it now I saw the love, and the agony of not knowing what to do or how to help.

I dreamed of my first day at a new school after the court case and meeting Steph. She was like a blast of fresh air and I knew from day one I had a friend for life.

Then there was the first time I met Lincoln. The self-defence course that delivered me my very own guardian angel. He watched over me, and in my dream I saw in a new light how he cared, how he worried. I saw our friendship grow and the conflict in his eyes when it became so much more and his care turned to torment.

I dreamed of the night he first kissed me, feeling once again the overwhelming passion and sureness that this man was my other half; that we were absolutely meant for one another. How right I’d been.

And then suddenly I was outside his warehouse discovering the truth, feeling the sting of betrayal. But this time, I saw so much more. I saw his pain and fears for me and us. I saw my innocence drift away and my rage and I wished, not for the first time, that I’d found it in my heart to be more forgiving, and yet I knew that the path had been the one I’d had to travel to reach this day of understanding.

The dreams kept coming. Life
and death, and love and loss. All painful and beautiful. All real.

I felt Lincoln’s hand, warm and wrapped around mine.

‘Come back to me, baby. Please come back to me.’

This time when I tried, my eyes cracked open and I saw him beside me, ruffled and beautiful.

‘I never left,’ I whispered. My throat was dry and my body ached all over.

Lincoln jolted then looked at me, his entire body sagging in relief.

‘Hey,’ he rasped, his fingers trailing along the curve of my chin.

‘Hey.’ I tried – and failed – to smile. ‘Where?’ I croaked.

‘We’re back in New York. We moved you here about a week ago.’

‘How long?’

‘Two weeks since the hurricane.’

I nodded. ‘New Orleans?’

He smiled, going along with my two-word vocab. ‘The city was saved. The outer areas closer to the ocean are gone but the navy managed to evacuate many people. Lives and homes were lost, but nothing near what would’ve …’

Then I felt something. It wasn’t my power but it was powerful. ‘Someone’s here,’ I whispered.

Lincoln looked around, shaking his head. ‘Just us.’

‘No,’ I replied, waiting. Sure enough, a few moments later I could see him. Michael.

‘Am I dying?’ I asked.

Lincoln immediately moved to stand between Michael and me.

Michael raised his hands
gently. ‘I have come to take you
both
somewhere, but rest assured you will be returned.’

‘Can’t this wait?’ asked Lincoln. ‘She’s only just woken up. The doctors haven’t even seen her yet.’

‘Do you fear she may suffer a medical emergency while under my care?’ Michael asked.

Wow. Did he just crack a joke?

I smiled weakly, reaching up to take Lincoln’s hand. ‘As long as we’re together,’ I said.

Michael nodded. ‘I would not dream of anything other,’ he said, and suddenly the pain was gone from my body and Lincoln and I were in the place that I could only call … other, standing in a field facing Michael. But not just any field.

A field of white lilies beneath a violet sky and a glowing golden sun.

It was warm, like home. Like love.

‘My painting,’ I whispered.

‘Your heart,’ Michael corrected.

And I agreed.

Lincoln held my hands in both of his, looking at the field with a sense of contentment and understanding.

‘Your souls are bound in every way?’ Michael asked Lincoln.

Lincoln turned to him and nodded. ‘Every way.’

Uri and Nox appeared behind Michael. They were wearing their usual contrast in clothing and yet they seemed more relaxed than usual, closer together rather than so far apart.

‘You have finally surrendered?’ Uri asked.

I nodded. ‘My self.’

Uri bowed his head.

Michael took a step towards
us. ‘We would offer you a final binding, if you choose to accept.’

‘I think we are already quite final, Michael,’ Lincoln said.

‘That is true, but symbolism has its place, too. It comes after but still carries weight. Join your left hands.’

Lincoln and I did as Michael asked, not sure what was going on but trusting that it was right.

A light pressure began to build and then something akin to an electrical current ran through our hands causing us both to flinch. When I looked down I saw a new marking. Intricate, like the designs on my wrist markings, again with tiny wisps like feathers, but so much finer. A ring on my wedding finger, and another on Lincoln’s. Matching in design, but whereas mine was purple with a shimmer like stars in the night, Lincoln’s was silver, just like my wrists.

We looked to Michael, who seemed pleased with the result.

‘In Hebrew,’ he said, ‘amethyst means
dream stone
.’

Michael, commander of all armies, the greatest of the Sole angels, bowed. ‘May your dreams be many.’

Lincoln bowed his head in return. ‘Thank you.’

‘Will I ever see you again?’ I asked.

‘If you need me, yes.’ He tilted his head in that way of his. ‘So, it is unlikely. You know who you are and what you can do.’

I smiled. ‘I am you. Like you are me.’

Michael nodded once. ‘We do not run. We do not quit.’

My smile widened. ‘And what of fairytales?’

He raised his hands, palms up. ‘Life, child. Is life not the greatest fairytale of all?’

I nodded in
understanding. ‘What about if you need me?’

His eyebrow twitched. ‘There is always that possibility.’

I rolled my eyes at his inability to admit he might just want to see me. I guess only time would tell, though I did realise one thing. ‘I can’t come back here, can I?’ I was a danger to them, and we could no longer deny it.

‘It is your space to command and it will not be taken from you, but no, it would not be wise.’

Somehow this space had become a part of me, and already I mourned its loss, but I knew that this was right, and what I wanted to do. It was the idea that had first come to me after facing Sammael and now it was time to make it happen.

‘It’s your space now,’ I said before I looked off into the distance and closed my eyes, smiling.

First, I returned it to its true form of nothingness, with its searching souls glimmering in the distance and countless smatterings of rainbows connecting what might be. Then I thought of my senses – the gifts that the angels had given me. Why had I been given all five? Why had that been necessary?

Perhaps … for this.

I breathed deeply and brought forward the conflicting sensations I’d always felt in my blood and bones. Rivers of cool; lands of warmth. I thought of the sounds of birds flying and trees blowing in the wind. I drew on the smell of flowers, in particular white lilies and all they invoked, and then the flashes of morning and evening. And finally, the taste of apple.

Slowly I opened my eyes. Before me was a vast meadow of rolling hills with a carpet of white flowers and trees in the distance, birds circling and swooping. The rainbows shone brightly, casting light, and in
the centre … a tree bursting with ripe red apples.

Beyond my field there was still the great expanse of nothingness. I had not created a new world or even a new city, but it was a start.

I smirked, gesturing to the apples. ‘Feel free to help yourselves.’

‘You take great assumption by thinking this is something we would desire,’ Michael said flatly. ‘If we would desire anything.’

I nodded. ‘Rest your pride, Michael. Rest your pride and maybe we can all evolve.’ Maybe this could be a place where angels could indulge and experience time in a physical sense. Angels might be the higher beings but that didn’t mean they could not learn.

‘There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are messengers of overwhelming grief … and unspeakable love.’

Washington Irving

D
isoriented, I opened my eyes. My groggy
mind took a few moments before it allowed the memories to flood in. I looked at my left hand to see the violet ring and then to the end of my bed where Lincoln sat in a chair, watching me.

‘When was the last time you slept in a bed?’ I asked, smiling.

He shrugged in response.

‘I see.’

‘How are you feeling?’ he asked, moving closer.

‘Okay. Physically, I feel like I’m mending.’ I frowned as I combed my fingers through my now considerably shorter hair. ‘But my power … I still can’t feel it like I normally can.’ I tried to hide my concern but of course he saw right through me.

Lincoln brushed the loose strands of hair back from my face. ‘I know. I can’t heal you like I should be able to. Griffin thinks you probably burned
out. It might take a little time for everything to come back online.’

I exhaled, but not fully. There was a part of me that worried I had lost it for good. It made me realise just how much I’d come to embrace my power and role as Grigori. It is who I am.

I’d been out of it for a couple of weeks and I knew that not all the news waiting for me would be good. It couldn’t be. I took Lincoln’s hands in mine.

‘Milo?’ I whispered.