Faith (Soul Savers Book 7) (25 page)

Well, hopefully Dorian
did, but he was almost as lost to me as the dead.

Silent tears fell over
my nose and down to the comforter, soaking it under my face. The
other side of the bed creaked and sagged as Tristan settled in next
to me. I was thankful when he curled around me but remained silent.
There was nothing I wanted to talk about. Eventually, I fell into a
deep sleep full of nightmares.

When I awoke, the sun
shone brightly from the other side of the house, meaning it was still
morning. That had been the longest night of sleep I’d had in
months, and although nightmares haunted me throughout the night, I
hadn’t felt so rested in a long time. After finding a can of
tuna in the cupboard, I flashed outside to the tiny sliver of beach,
sat down in the sand, peeled the lid off and ate with my fingers
while staring at the murky water.

We’d gone
snorkeling several times on our honeymoon, and then later, Tristan,
Owen, and I had swum the depths of these waters when I was learning
my new abilities from the Ang’dora. Although there had been
more fish out by the reef, the water here had supported a decent
amount of life at the time. Now there was none. Too bad, because half
a can of tuna wasn’t enough to satisfy my hunger. If I didn’t
love Tristan as much as I did, I probably would have devoured it all.

“Thank you for
saving me some,” he said, as though he was the mind reader in
this relationship. He sat beside me and lifted the can. “But
you can have it. I can wait until we find something else.”

I shook my head without
removing my gaze from the water. “Don’t be ridiculous.
Eat.”

I didn’t tell him
that I suddenly felt ill anyway. It wasn’t quite a sick
feeling, and I didn’t think the tuna itself had caused it. Just
food in general. The thought of putting anything more in my mouth
nearly made me gag. Where had that come from? I hadn’t been
sick since before the Ang’dora. Was it because it had been so
long since I’d really eaten much? That’s all I could
figure, because even if I’d somehow contracted something, my
body should have regenerated after yesterday’s taxing flight.

“Do you think the
water’s safe to go in?” I asked, really wishing I could
wash myself off. It wouldn’t be the same as a hot bath, but
better than nothing.

“I don’t
know. Whatever black magic was in those bombs that killed all life
forms on land probably killed everything in the sea, too, including
any bacteria. It’s probably safe …” He leaned
forward onto his knees and reached his fingers out for a wave that
slid onto the sand. My breath caught, and I cringed as the water
washed over his skin. He jerked his hand back and held up his raw
fingers. “Or maybe not.”

The skin on his
fingertips immediately healed, but I couldn’t imagine what it
would feel like to immerse my whole body in that acidic water, if
only for a moment, even if it did heal.

“There should be
fresh water in the water heater,” he said. “We should
conserve it, so no bath or shower, but at least we can drink it.”

And for some reason,
the inability to wash myself set me off once again.

I snapped.

Total desolation and
despair overcame me. I leaned forward on my knees, curled my body
over them, and let the sobs ransack me until I couldn’t
breathe. Then yesterday’s anger returned, fueled by exhaustion
and guilt. Although I’d been saying it all along, yesterday’s
flyovers had brought home the truth and the stupid water reinforced
it.

“I was right. The
world is
gone
. Our friends and family are gone. We’re
completely alone. We can’t even take a fucking bath in the
ocean!”

I slammed my fists into
the sand. Something sharp, a broken shell or piece of glass, I didn’t
know, sliced into the side of my hand. I jumped to my feet, swearing
up a storm as I turned toward the house.

“Damn it!”
I screamed as I shook my hand.

The pain immediately
vanished and the skin was already closing up, but the blood that had
trickled out sprayed in splatters that landed on the dead brush of
the yard. Bright red dots contrasting against the endless gray.
Splashes of color in a monotone world, like those artistic
black-and-white photographs with a single hue that caught the eye.
Photographs that didn’t exist anymore, that would never again
be taken.

Tristan wrapped his
arms around me from behind, trying to settle me down, and something
about the gesture drained me of all energy worse than a sorcerer
could do.

“I’m so
done,” I cried quietly as I sagged against him and closed my
eyes. Tears seeped between my lashes. “Everybody we love is
gone. Why can’t we be, too?”

“It’s not
our time,” he murmured against my ear. Not what I wanted to
hear, but at least he didn’t argue with me about the
hopelessness of the world. Maybe he’d hoped to find something
different back in D.C., but he’d finally accepted what I’d
been saying all along. At least, I thought he had, until he spoke
again a few moments later, and the tone of defeat in his voice had
disappeared. “Alexis, open your eyes.”

I didn’t reply,
and I didn’t immediately open my eyes. The scene was clear on
the backs of my lids, and if he was trying to be cute by filling my
vision with his face, I wasn’t in the mood. Yes, I actually
thought that for probably the first time ever—I wasn’t in
the mood to see my love’s beautiful face. Even when it was the
only thing of beauty and life left in this world. That’s how
done I was.

“Lexi, my love,
open your eyes,” he insisted, his voice even lighter now.
Almost excited.

I reluctantly obeyed.
And gasped before falling to my knees.

“What the hell?”
I breathed as my finger traced over one of the branches of the brush
in the yard. A branch that had been dead and gray only moments ago,
but now began to turn green, starting at a little dot in the center
of the stem and growing outward. My eyes lifted as more little specks
of green caught my attention. “I don’t understand.”

“I think it’s
everywhere your blood drops landed,” Tristan said as he kneeled
down behind me.

“My blood will
bring back life?” I started laughing hysterically, but not the
kind of joyous laughter that was appropriate. This was a maniacal
howl that made me sound like a lunatic. “Classic. Just fucking
classic. What am I supposed to do? Spread my blood all over the damn
world to save it? Is that their oh-so-wonderful plan?”

I leaned back against
Tristan and stared up at the sky, wondering what the Angels were
doing on the other side of the veil. Probably cackling their heads
off.

Tristan snaked his arm
over my hips. “I don’t know, Lex, but it shows that
there’s hope.”

I looked back down at
the brush. Only a few branches had shown signs of life, and it wasn’t
spreading very quickly. I’d bleed out before we could revive
this yard. How the heck would this do any good for the world? My eyes
fell on a new color that wasn’t gray or green. Something tiny
and purple in the dirt. As I watched, it pushed its way up, becoming
a purple bud that blossomed before our very eyes. I clamped my hand
over my mouth and new tears welled.

I reached for the
flower, and at the same time, my stomach jumped.

For a brief moment, I
thought my tuna was trying to come back up, but the nauseated feeling
had passed.

Then my belly fluttered
again.

“What was that?”
Tristan asked as his hand pressed against my lower abdomen.

“You felt that?”
As soon as I spoke the words, my body did it again. “Oh my
God.”

“Alexis …”

Another flutter made
him trail off.

My heart leapt and
swelled. I clutched the flower I’d accidentally picked to my
chest and turned around to face him. The biggest and most sublime
smile beamed from his face.

“You believed in
hope, and you were right,” I breathed.

I threw my arms around
him, and he lifted us both from the ground before swinging me around.

“Faith, my love.
The tiniest bit goes a long way.”

He spun us around
again, and I felt like the heavy weight of despair peeled away and
flung off of me in chunks with the centrifugal force. For some
reason, realizing I was pregnant now felt different than last time.
The world was in a lot worse condition than it had been then, but
something told me that this—the baby’s kicks and the
flower—were the signs of hope I was supposed to discover.

“We’re
going to have a baby,” I shrieked as I held onto Tristan’s
neck.

“Wicked awesome!”
The familiar male voice came from near the house, and Tristan
suddenly stopped his spinning.

“I told you we’d
find them here,” his female companion claimed, and I ran for
her.

The
brush slowed me down, so I leapt up and sprinted across the tops of
it toward the couple standing by the corner of the house. I launched
myself at them in a tackle hug, taking them both down.

“You’re
alive!” I squealed as I sprang to my feet and grabbed their
hands to help them up.

“The last person
who came at me like that got their head bit off,” Vanessa said,
brushing herself off and flicking her long, white-blond hair over her
shoulder as she leveled me with ice-blue eyes. “Literally.”

“I can’t …
I just can’t believe it!” Ignoring her threat, I threw
myself at her again, tears streaming down my face. And then I turned
to Owen with a huge smile and hugged him again. “I thought you
were dead! I thought everyone—”

I cut myself off, not
wanting to ruin the moment by mentioning everyone else we’d
lost.

“We didn’t
know what happened to you two, either,” Owen said as he held me
tightly before letting me go to give Tristan a man-hug. His
straw-colored hair was longer than his usual style, and worry lines
spread out from his sapphire-blue eyes. I wondered what kind of hell
they’d been through since the last time we saw them.

“We thought we’d
lost you,” Vanessa said, and although she tried to hide it, I
could hear the fear in her voice. “We’ve been looking
ever since we figured out we could come to the surface without dying
from radiation.”

“We only got here
yesterday,” I said.

Owen shook his head,
his eyes full of wonder as his gaze swung back and forth between
Tristan and me. “I still can’t believe it. Why Vanessa
thought you might come here is beyond me, but cheers to her for
insisting we come all the way down here.”

Vanessa rolled her
eyes. “It’s a girl thing. And believe it or not, I
am
a girl.”

I nodded. Owen should
have known this place was important to me, but guys just didn’t
think the same way.

“What happened to
you? Where did you go? Where have you been?” The questions
gushed out like a geyser.

“We have the same
inquisition for you,” Owen said, “but first, did I hear
something about drinking water?”

I narrowed my eyes at
him. “How long have you been here, Mr. Eavesdropper?”

“We popped in
under a cloak,” Vanessa admitted. “Looked like you two
were having a moment, so we didn’t want to interrupt.”

In other words, they
saw my stupid tantrum. Now, at least, I could blame it on hormones.
Baby
. Oh my God, we were going to have a baby!
That’s
what you thought last time.
I mentally frowned as my hand
automatically covered my abdomen, as if to protect it, and then I
pushed the negative thought out of my head. I didn’t want to
worry right now. I wanted to bask in the little glint of hope today
had brought. I knew it would be brief, so I’d enjoy this little
escape from the shitty truth of reality while I could.

“The hot water
heater’s inside,” Tristan said without missing a beat. He
headed for the stairs to the screened-in porch. “Let’s
see what’s in there.”

Vanessa and I followed
the guys up, but we stayed out on the lanai when they went inside.

“So the baby’s
going to make it?” she asked. “I thought you’d be
showing by now.”

Both hands went to my
stomach this time, and I tried to smile though more tears filled my
eyes. Yep, my escape had been brief. “I lost the other one when
I, uh, died and took a trip to the Otherworld.”

She stopped in front of
the patio chair and stared at me with brows raised. I shrugged.

“Just a brief
visit with Mom and Rina … and others. They sent me back.”
I sat down in my old favorite chair, trying to blow off the whole
thing. Wishing we could forget everything that had happened and
celebrate the good, like the baby and finding each other again. But
we all had too many questions.

Tristan and Owen came
outside holding coffee mugs full of stale tasting water with a
metallic aftertaste to it. At least it was something drinkable,
though. I drained the entire cup, and Tristan handed me another.