Winter's Wrath: Sacrifice (Winter's Saga #3) (12 page)

Alik pulled a privacy curtain closed.  It surrounded her bed completely, except the side adjacent to the wall of the plane. Farrow looked first in the duffle bag at her feet and found a simple pair of white cotton panties and a bra.  Pulling those on first, she then slipped herself into the soft pink sweatpants.  Everything smelled so freshly cleaned.  She held the T-shirt to her nose for a moment, breathing the floral, powdery fresh scent.  Nothing laundered at the Facility ever smelled this clean—or beautiful.  Ever.  Not to mention she had never worn anything pink before.

“Okay, I’m dressed,” Farrow said as she reached to pull the curtain back.

Alik was at her side in three steps, helping her lower her legs off the side of the bed.  He held her elbow securely, encouraging her to lean against him as they took their first tentative steps down the aisle.  Farrow instinctively held her stomach where she was sporting a couple dozen stitches. 

“How do you feel?” he asked.

“I’m okay,” she said bravely.  In reality, her head was spinning and her guts felt as if they were about to spill out.

“You’re doing fine,” Alik encouraged.

The plane was large enough to accommodate fifty passengers comfortably.  Everyone was seated near the front of the plane.

Evan met them in the aisle, smiling at Farrow proudly.  “You are looking much better.  How do you feel?”

Farrow looked up at Alik, unsure how to answer.

“I know he looks like a kid, but he really is your doctor,” Alik assured.

“I’m tender, but I’ll be fine in a few days.  Thank you for saving my life.” Farrow spoke earnestly. 

Evan shrugged humbly and looked at his big brother.  “So you got our patient to drink soup, eat applesauce and turn away from the dark side?  I’d say you’re a regular Florence Nightingale.”

“Hey now,” Alik said seriously.  “That’s Frank Nightingale to you, buddy.”

The brothers grinned at each other as they helped Farrow the rest of the way down the aisle and sat her in a chair next to their mother and across from Meg.  Dr. Andrews sat on the other side of Margo.  Farrow noticed he was the only person who wouldn’t look her in the eye.  Inwardly, Meg frowned at Dr. Andrews holding a grudge against this poor girl.

“We would have come to you dear, but Evan insisted you needed to get up and do some walking.”

“It’ll speed the healing,” Evan offered logically.

“I am feeling better after putting on some clothes, and the walk wasn’t too bad,” Farrow said feeling stupid and ugly in
their
presence.

“You and I wear the same size,” Meg smiled at her.  “I figured comfy pants were a must after your surgery.”

“Yes, thank you.  Thank all of you for your kindness.  I don’t deserve it.  You have every reason to hate me,” Farrow blurted, tears starting to pool in her dark eyes.

“Oh, no.  Not this again,” Alik moaned putting his hand to his face.

“Farrow, you have so much sadness and self-loathing bubbling inside,” Margo turned in her seat to face the girl.  “You need to realize you are more than what you’ve done.  You are more than your mistakes.  You lived life the best you knew how before.  Now that you have been offered a new way to live, you have embraced it.  Let go of your self-loathing because it has no place for you in your new life.” Margo punctuated her last statement by wiping a tear from Farrow’s face with a soft napkin. 

Farrow nodded solemnly, shocked by the woman’s words.

“Are you ready to talk now?” Margo asked carefully.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Alik, you mentioned an idea you had?”  Margo looked to her older son.

“Well, it occurred to me when I was talking with Farrow about Creed,” Alik glanced at Meg and swallowed his sadness at seeing her cringe.  “Farrow figured out Creed had a heightened ability, though he was a second-generation metahuman.”

“Yes, Creed could turn off his pain sensors,”
Margo
clarified for Farrow.

“Well, if Creed had a gift he kept secret from the director, isn’t it possible there are others too afraid to speak up?  They had to know Williams would start the bloodletting and dissection if they were found out.” 

“Mom and I were thinking something similar: If Creed and Farrow could be raised in hatred and violence, but turn away from that and choose to be good instead, wouldn’t it make sense that there could be other metahumans just as lost and needing to be shown the way?”  The more Meg thought about
it
, the clearer their path was becoming.

“I think we’re all talking about infiltrating the Facility to rescue other metahumans,” Dr. Andrews spoke up for the first time.

“That’s exactly what we’re thinking,” Margo added decisively.

“Are you insane?” Andrews enunciated each word carefully, as though he were speaking to the deaf.

“Theo, why are you so determined to avoid conflict when it keeps chasing us everywhere we go?  We may as well turn and fight back on our terms,” Margo said pragmatically.

“I can’t even listen to this,” Andrews stood.  “I’ll be sitting with Cole.”  Theo stomped up the aisle to where his son was sleeping.

Margo watched Theo walk away.  Worry etched in her brow, but she only said, “We need to give him some time.  He’s not thinking clearly with Cole still so ill.”

Meg wondered if everyone else understood she said those words trying to convince herself of their truth.  Dr. Andrews was struggling and Meg knew he was inching closer to a path her mother wouldn’t accept. 

“Are you sure you don’t want me to go talk with him?” Meg asked carefully.

Margo leaned across to her daughter and squeezed her hand affectionately.  “You need to give yourself a break, Meg.  We need you to help us come up with a plan.”

“I have an idea,” Farrow spoke up softly, still not sure how this whole family meeting worked.

All eyes turned to her.  “Meg, Alik told me you tried to locate Creed’s ‘emotional signature’ for hours and were unable to find him.” 

The brothers tensed protectively toward Meg at the mention of Creed. 

“Yes.” Meg’s eyes dropped to her lap.

“I just wondered if you tried to tap into Dr. Williams himself?”

“Not since the fight at the house.”

“Well, if something did happen to Creed, Dr. Williams would know about it, wouldn’t he?”

“I just wondered if having answers would help you.  It would also help to know what he’s planning.”

“No offense, Farrow, but I don’t think it’s a good idea for Meg to delve into Williams’ mind again—it’s too much for her.” Evan looked worried.

Farrow looked back and forth between
Meg
and Evan, then back to Alik.  “I’m sorry; I was just trying to help.  I really don’t have any idea how your gift works.  I wouldn’t want to put you in harm’s way.”

“I think it’s a great idea,” Meg said defiantly staring at her little brothers, though her face paled considerably.

“Meg, you know what happened last time you looked into Williams’ emotions.  You just spent your energies bringing Cole back.  If you want to do this, fine, but wait until you’ve had time to recuperate.”  Margo frowned at her daughter.

“I need to know what happened to Creed, mom,” Meg said simply.  “I’ve gotten better at reading people since that incident back at the house.”

“Incident?  Is that what you’re calling it?  Meg, we couldn’t pull you back!”  Alik’s usually calm demeanor was inching toward edgy.  “And, just an hour ago, Maze had to tackle you away from Cole to get you to snap out of your empath connection!”

“Do you remember who saved me from Williams?”  Meg stared hurt daggers at her family.

That shut everyone up. 

“Creed saved me,” She said for Farrow’s sake.  “Creed rushed me out of the lab and put me with my Maze.  If he hadn’t thought to do that, I could still be trapped in Williams’ blackness—lost in his depraved emotions.”  Her dander was up.  She couldn’t help her raised voice. 

Maze whined at her tone and licked her hand with his warm, rough tongue trying to soothe.  Absently, she rubbed his ears. “I’ll agree to waiting until we arrive in Texas, but as soon
as
we get to where we’re going, I’m doing this.  Creed gave us everything he had.  We owe him.  His story needs to be known.”

Excruciating pain ripped the door the hell off Creed’s internal protective turret.  The pain sensors he previously controlled screamed in piercing defiance at having been silenced for too long.  The thought occurred to him that he must be too near death to stop them.  He clenched his teeth willing the pain to subside.  It only intensified.

“He’s coming around, Dr. Williams.”

“Good.  Mr. Young?  Can you hear me?  Yes, I can see you’re in a tremendous amount of pain.  To be honest, I’m not all that worried about easing your discomfort.  You did quite a bit of damage to my property.  Not having the serum, yet again is—” the scientist inhaled sharply then forced an exhale, “irritating, to say the least.”

“Then there are the seven metahumans you personally killed.  All in all, I’d say you deserve a very painful death.  Oh, and you’ll get what you deserve, after I get a fresh sample of your blood and DNA.  I have some scientist who will be able to work wonders with your blueprint.  Who knows?  Maybe your anomaly will be the answer I’ve been looking for all along.  In which case, hunting Margo Winter and the stolen assets will be more for sport than necessity.”

Creed instinctively wanted to curl into fetal position, but couldn’t.  His muscles strained uselessly.  He was strapped to a gurney.  Feeling himself tied down was almost more agonizing as the pain itself. 

“Oh, yes, you noticed the reinforced straps.  I had Chaunders install those just for you.  Even in your current state, I didn’t want to take any chances.  Don’t worry Mr. Young.  We’ll be arriving in
Germany
soon enough.  That’s when your real fun will begin.”

Creed slipped in and out of consciousness.  He wasn’t sure, but he thought he felt Meg’s gentle quiver of emotion slip around him tentatively, searching and slipped away almost as quickly.  Left lingering in his mind was the scent of red, ripe strawberries.  As imagined as it probably was, his aching mind latched on to the essence and used it as a soothing elixir, desperate for any sliver of the girl he would give anything
to
see once more.  

Meg.

The girl whose eyes sparkled with light that seemed to come from inside her.

The girl whose will and determination made her seem ten times bigger than her small body could possibly contain. 

The girl whose strength came from her willingness to love by faith and not by sight, to open herself to emotion and pain out of sheer stubbornness—determined to be there for those she took under her beautifully protective wings. 

She allows herself to be a mirror, absorbing everything around her, giving back only the most beautiful of what is thrown to her.  Her reflective soul act
ed
like a filter, allowing only the most precious pieces to be given back to the world—taking the evil and darkness away.

…I
nterceding for even a worthless monster like me to the God who blessed her with the heart of an angel
,
Creed thought.

Creed knew it was Meg who saved him, even as he lay bleeding to death feeling his organs desperate to shut down, one at a time, out of sheer ruin.

Before Meg, Creed knew he was a soulless, empty shell designed for evil.  He was a puppet to a devil.  She and her family brought
him to
humanity.  If he had a soul now, it was only because she breathed God’s life back into him.  He wanted to be a better man for her.  She made him want to take on the world and kneel at her beautiful feet just to be near her. 

Creed knew with every screaming ounce of his being that it was Meg who filled him with her light and goodness.  He didn’t know why she chose to waste her time with a worthless monster like him, but she wrapped her lovely white blanket of goodness around his heart and freed him.   She taught him what it was to love, to believe and to pray.

Even as the arid pain of consciousness made Creed’s body convulse, his mind was desperate to plead what would be only his second prayer ever.  He prayed for forgiveness for being so late to recognize the preciousness of life. 

I am not worthy of any forgiveness,
but
I do have a soul, and
if
y
ou choose to show me mercy, please take it
from this
body.  Let me watch over Meg as her guardian instead.

Creed’s mind drifted toward the isolating blackness before a burst of iridescent light blossomed warm and welcoming to his weary soul, drawing him into its comforting embrace.

Chapter 15
 
Wings

Meg’s
back hurt. 

She
couldn’t figure out why it was hurting, but it was.   The location of the pain was stran
ge.  It ached on either side of her spine, right where her shoulder blades would be.  She
kept trying to remember why it was hurting. 
Had I bumped into something?