A Time to Die (Elemental Rage Book 2) (17 page)

Raven cried when
she pulled it over her leg.  She couldn’t help it. It hurt that much. She
didn’t like being naked, not even in front of her Mom.  She felt so…exposed.
Helping Raven under the covers, Amy knew Raven was feeling very uncomfortable. 
She said, “There’s a store just down the street.  I can go get you underwear.”

“Please,” Raven
said.  She shivered under the blankets.  The emergency room was freezing cold.
Raven wondered how long it would take the nurses to return.  She decided she
wanted her Mom back with underwear before then. “Hurry!” she said.

Twenty minutes
later, her Mom returned with underwear and a book.

It was a long
night. Every few hours someone came into the room to check on Raven.  She was
scheduled for surgery, but the surgery was pushed back, so she had to wait.

Raven longed to
home.  She was a complete prisoner in the hospital.  Her bites hurt bad.  Her
arm ached where the I.V. was inserted.  She was thirsty and hungry.  The staff
weren’t feeding her because of the surgery.  No water, either. She was allowed
to suck ice. That was it.

At some point
after pain medications were pushed into the I.V., Raven dozed. Finally they
came to get her for surgery.  Her leg was torn up.  The doc said it would take
several surgeries to get her back to normal.

There was a large
period of time between that moment when she was wheeled away and waking up in
another room that Raven didn’t remember.  The next time she opened her eyes,
Jade and Mom were both there. 

Jade sat down in
one of the waiting chairs at the side of the bed. She said, “I’m proud of you.”

The sisters talked
about stupid stuff, things they wouldn’t even bother to mention at home, like who
was the coolest, Dean, Sam, or Castiel or what was funnier
The IT Crowd
or
Firefly.

Raven was actually
disappointed late that afternoon when Jade had to leave.

Chapter 15

~~
Claire ~~

After Jade left,
Claire and Mindy moped around the house. Somehow it felt strange not being at
school when everyone else was.  Also, Aunt Bertha was fast asleep.

Mindy whined the
whole time.  She fussed when Claire changed the channel and said,” No. Otter.”

Claire stared up
at the ceiling, her mouth hanging open and said, “Again? I am going to
absolutely die of boredom.”

“Otter.” Mindy
pointed to the television, her lower lip protruding further than it should and
a stubborn set to her jaw.

“Fine. Otter.”
Claire sighed and switched it back to
Million Dollar Baby
so that Mindy
could see the otters.  Mindy loved animal shows even more than cartoons.

They were about
halfway through the show when Water splashed Claire between the eyebrows,
Trouble
coming.  Hide!

“What is it?”
Claire asked.

Death Keeper.
Dangerous.  Hide Mindy, too.

Claire grabbed the
remote and turned off the television.  Mindy started to cry.  “Mindy, we’re
going to play hide-and-seek.  Go to your room and talk to Earth.  Ask her to
hide you. Hurry!”

Water urged
Claire,
Get Bertha. You don’t have much time.

Running down the
hall, Claire screamed, “Aunt Bertha. Aunt Bertha.”

She banged on
Bertha’s bedroom door.

Claire could
barely hear Bertha through the door when she said, “What is it?”

“Death Keepers. 
Water says for us all to hide,” Claire yelled.  “Are you getting up?”

Aunt Bertha called
through the door, “Yes.  Get Mindy and you girls hide. I’ll be right there.”

Claire didn’t wait
to see what Aunt Bertha was going to do.  For years, even decades into the
future, her memories of that moment would haunt her.  Perhaps if she had gone
in to see Aunt Bertha and realized she was too weak to stand.  Perhaps if
Claire had used water to protect her Aunt, but that’s not what happened.

Mindy was doddling
in the hallway.  Claire grabbed her and dragged her into the room she shared
with Raven.  Mindy screeched, blasting the house with her siren wail.

“Hush! We have to
hide,” Claire didn’t understand what was wrong with Mindy.  Usually Earth would
tell her if something was going wrong.  Even if she only spoke in one-sentence
words, Mindy usually knew when to hide.

Frustrated, Claire
begged Water for help.  “Why isn’t she listening to me?  I can’t force her to
talk to Earth. I’m not strong enough to turn her into Water with me
.
”

Water was silent
for a moment.

She used too
much energy.  She can’t hear Earth.

“What do we do?”  

I can reach
Earth.

Claire and Water found
Earth.  Although Claire was not familiar with Earth, she was able to nudge the
Element to hide Mindy.  Claire followed close behind.  They ended up deep
inside the ground, far below the house.  Claire wondered why they had gone so
deep, but neither Water nor Earth were talking.  They were focused on what was
happening above. For partners, the two Elements weren’t saying much to Claire
or Mindy, either.

Mindy was content
now that Earth was talking to her again.  Claire hadn’t realized that Mindy’s
crankiness was directly related to having lost contact with her Element.  That
was good to know for future reference.

They waited in the
dark, but they weren’t alone.  They had Water and Earth.  They had each other.

~~ Aunt Bertha ~~

Aunt Bertha had
hoped to sleep during the day since her last night’s rest had been so elusive. 
She had just managed a cat nap when the screaming started.  Claire bawled like
a bull calf for Aunt Bertha while Mindy screamed. Claire banged at Bertha’s
bedroom door as if the world would come to an end.

Bertha sighed when
Claire said the word, “Death Keeper.”

The Death Keepers
would be coming to collect her soon anyhow.  Bertha no longer feared them, not
on her own behalf anyway.  She’d made her deal.  It bought her nieces a few
months at least.  Aunt Bertha wondered which of her girls had been given the
Gift of Time. Amy was cunning, but with four girls with distinctive personalities,
there really wasn’t much choice.  She suspected Jade.  Claire was too talkative. 
Had she been the recipient, everyone would know by now.  Raven?  Maybe.  Mindy.
Amy would never be so foolish as to give such a powerful gift to a newborn. 
Lastly Jade.  Also possible, even likely. 

Aunt Bertha felt
the Earth welcome her grand-nieces into her arms.  Amy said she’d passed the
gift of Time on, but maybe she didn’t.  Maybe she still carried it.  Aunt
Bertha was tired, exhausted.  She had to get out of bed before the Death Keeper
rang the doorbell. There was no law that said she had to answer the door, but
she didn’t relish the idea of a Death Keeper thinking he might have an empty
house.

Groaning, Aunt
Bertha lifted her head from the pillow.  Her hands trembled.  That was when
Bertha first felt truly old, not just that she was on her way to old, but
ancient. Her hands trembled. She steeled herself for that first jolt when she
pushed off from the bed with a grunt.  The cane kept her upright. 

The way she wobbled,
Bertha knew it wouldn’t be too long now that she’d be bedridden.  She hated to
do that to Amy and the girls.  Maybe next week she should check into the
nursing home in town.  Bertha dreaded the moment when she entered a facility
like that.

She was halfway
down the hall when the doorbell rang, “Just a moment,” Bertha called.

Aunt Bertha was
too tired to talk to her Elements.  She had a vague notion that Harold waited
for her at the door.  Not her favorite Death Keeper in the world, but at least
he understood old age.  Maybe he wouldn’t keep her too long.

Slowly, ever so
slowly, she tottered down the hall, certain at any moment that she would step
too far in one direction or the other and break a hip, although the prevailing
notion now was that old folks broke their hips first and then fell.  Aunt
Bertha wasn’t up to trying either method, thank you very much.

The doorbell rang
again.

“Hold onto your
whiskers. I’m coming,” Aunt Bertha groused.

The house must
have been a kilometer long.  Opening the door, Aunt Bertha wasn’t a bit
surprised to see Harold.  But she sure could act, “Harold! What brings you so
far out this way?”

Bertha didn’t
invite Harold in.  That urban legend about not inviting vampires applied to
other creatures as well.  It didn’t do to open the door to any old thing,
especially a Death Keeper who was an enemy, even if a polite one.

Harold stepped by
Bertha anyway.  So he wasn’t a vampire or a creature held back by lack of
invitation.  Not that Bertha was shocked, but it would have been easier to keep
him out if he had been.

Harold said,
“Bertha, you’re not here all alone, are you?  Where are the girls?  I heard
about your misfortune and wanted to see if you needed anything. I can’t imagine
they would leave you here alone.”

Misfortune
covers a lot of ground, a nice general term that could apply to Amy going
missing or ‘visiting relatives’ as the story went, Raven’s hospitalization, or
Bertha supposed, her own illness, although she had been very discrete. No one
in town should know a thing.

Bertha decided to
be vague in her own way, “I’m afraid the girls are all out.  I’m quite fine on
my own as you can see.”

Harold was halfway
into the living room now.  Bertha stayed right there next to the door because
it would have been rude to enter a person’s house too deeply when the person
you are visiting is right at the door.  She figured a perch by the door would
keep Harold tethered. 

She figured
wrong. 

Instead of
standing near Bertha, Harold wandered the living room. Seeing her chair, he
said, “Would you feel more comfortable in your arm chair or in bed.”

Bertha was so
tired she could hardly take another step, but she sure wasn’t going to admit
that to Harold, much less give him leave to walk the house.  She said, “No.
Sir. I’m as fit as a fiddle, fine as a violin.”

Harold swung by
the couch in his pacing and back to the door where Bertha was leaning, pretending
a strength she lost with the cancer.  She could just imagine telling the girls,
“Yes. Harold outstood me to death.  I told him I was fine and then bam, he
treated me like a nice guest talking to me for hours.  No one was more
surprised than me when I collapsed..”

No one was more
surprised than Bertha when Harold held his arm out to Bertha and said, “I know
better than anyone what is happening to you.  I’ll walk you back to bed and let
myself out.  This isn’t the time for a visit, ey?”

Harold showed no
sign of leaving.  Bertha realized that it would be better just to let him see
the hall and see her room.  She didn’t have anything wonderful or magical
stored in there.  All of her artifacts had long ago been passed down or
destroyed.  With a sigh, she took his arm.

Bertha allowed
herself to be led to the bedroom.  She was savvy enough to know that Harold was
up to something. It gave her a giggle. What would she do to stop anyone from
tossing the house, stealing the jewelry, and breaking the furniture?  Aunt
Bertha was lucky she had an escort back to bed.  Just walking down the hall had
taken its toll.  Bertha sighed.  When had she gotten so weak? When had she
gotten so old?

Harold waited
while she sat on the edge of the bed, even helped her lift her feet. It was a
comfortable feeling, her head hitting the pillow. Seeing Harold hovering over
her bed sure wasn’t.

“I know you’re not
here to check on me.  What do you really want?” Bertha wasn’t one to dance
around a subject. 

Bertha heard a
sinister glee in Harold’s reply.  That was when she knew she was in trouble. “I
heard you were out here alone and just wanted to check on you,” Harold said.  He
grabbed a pillow from the bottom of the bed, “I think I should call your
nieces. You’re looking peaked.”

Bertha smiled.  It
was a smile of tired acceptance, an acknowledgement that he had won something
from her.  Perhaps he would check them all for the Gift, perhaps he would even
find it, but she was an Elemental, true in her heart, and even dying of cancer
with her enemy at her bedside, Bertha refused to be cowed, refused to show
fear. 

Instead, warmth
embraced her.  Not an Element this time, which surprised Bertha. 
What was
this strange feeling?
 

Her glasses were
on the bedside table.  What she wouldn’t give to see Harold’s expression right
now. His voice slithered with darkness and she was so tired that the idea of
fighting him did not appeal. His machinations could beat against Diana’s will
only so far. They were mortal, one and all.  Bertha would fear nothing, not on
her deathbed.  She certainly would not fear Harold.     

So he thought she
should call her ‘girls’. Bertha answered, “You’re as bad as they are, wanting
to hire a babysitter for me.  I’m just fine on my own.  When it comes to
needing help, I’ll ask for it.  In the meantime, the kids are busy doing their
own thing.  They don’t need an old lady like me ruining their fun.”

“Fun,” Harold snorted.
He stepped toward the bed.  “You don’t even know where they are, do you?  Your
nieces broke Amy free. Of course, they needed a little help.  Petrodus. 
Remember him?  Greatest enemy of the Elementals.  Serial killer. Rapist.  All
around ‘good guy’.” He practically spit the last words.”

“Petrodus?” Aunt
Bertha stared into the vague fuzzy form of her enemy.

“You wouldn’t come
to me for help.  You wouldn’t trust me to set her free.  Instead you go to one
of the great evils.”

Oh, that’s why
he’s here.
Bertha thought. As she turned his words over in her head, Bertha
realized that she really shouldn’t have been involved in advising the girls.
Her pain had urged her with an anxiousness that overrode commonsense. She lied
to protect the two hiding even now in the bowels of Earth’s heart.

She said, “You’re
right.  I have no idea where they went or why. Ever since I told them I was
dying they treat me like an invalid.  Do you know? Are they safe?”  She hoped
the question sounded sincere.  Bertha knew her girls were safe.  She only hoped
Mindy and Claire stayed hidden.  Even if the Death Keepers were sure she had
the Gift of Time, eventually they’d be on the hunt again. 

Best to keep the
girls far away from men like Harold.

“Yes. They are
safe. For now.” Harold stepped forward. 

The blurred face
became clear.  Harold stared at her, holding the pillow in both hands.  It was
the first time Bertha got the slightest inkling of what Harold had in mind. He
continued, “You, however, are in serious danger.”

Bertha felt the
pillow press against her face. The pillow carried the scent of lavender. The
smell she loved choked her. Even as she was suffocating, she thought,
With
my cancer and being eighty, I would have expected this to go a little faster.

She wasn’t afraid.
 She thought she would be.  Bertha had been terrified when she found out about
the cancer, terrified at the thought of that final journey, but right now, in
this moment, even though her hands were clutching Harold’s wrists, even while
she weakly fought to remove the pillow from her face, she knew that it was
time. The air grew increasingly thin with each passing moment. Dizzy, her head
hurt and stars danced across her vision.

She heard the
Universe speak to her,
Bertha, come.

She let go, and
then she was somewhere else.

“Oh, I know you.”
Bertha said to the fine young man who met her in the light.  He had gray at his
temples.  He had been at the ceremony where she supposedly gave up her power.