Carry On Wayward Son (13 page)

BOOK: Carry On Wayward Son
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She freed him, got to her feet, every inch aching from holding in the grief. “I will do this for you, because I understand what it is to be trapped, to face eternity alone and desperate. Look at me.” When he did, the anguish in his eyes clinched her decision. “I will help you.”

Hope flared through the anguish, fisted her heart. “Even after all I forced you to endure?”

“Not the best method, but I understand the reasons behind your actions. I just need you to do one thing for me. Unlock the doors, let Simon go.”

He closed his eyes, and the doors unlocked, one by one, slower than last time. His power was fading. “I am ready.”

She took his hand, his skin colder under her fingers. “If you want to fall, to experience all the pain and pettiness of being human, then I’m your girl. Now,” she tightened her grip on his hand. “I have a binding spell to break.”

 

 

FIFTEEN

 


I
s that Simon?” Annie pushed herself up, gripping the backseat when her hip screamed in protest. “What the hell—”

“Annie.” Eric kept her from standing, so she shouted at Simon.

“Where’s Claire?” Simon kept his head down, walking across the lawn. A sling supported his right arm—a sling she knew damn well Claire made for him. “Simon! Damn it—help me up, Eric.”

With a sigh, he pulled her out of the car, hovering in case she toppled. Using the length of the car as a crutch, she managed to reach Simon as he hit the sidewalk. He glanced up at her—and she felt the slap of his rage, his grief. Her sapphire sparked with it.

“Simon—”

“Don’t touch me.”

“Did you leave Claire alone in there?” Too angry to care about his reaction, she grabbed his good arm. He turned on her so fast she fell back against the car.

“I said don’t touch me. And you stay the hell out of this,” he said to Eric as he sprinted forward. “Don’t contact me. Ever.”

“Simon!”

“Leave him alone, Annie.”

“Like hell—Simon! Turn around and face me when I’m shouting at you.” He stopped, his shoulders stiff. “Tell me what happened—why did you leave Claire alone with that bastard—”

He spun, trapping her against the car. “She’s a demon, Annie.” His voice was so vicious her heart lurched.

“She told you.” Anger shoved down her fear. “And what did you say to her?”

“Nothing.”

“You just walked out, didn’t you? Son of a bitch—why didn’t you just stab her in the heart while you were at it? It would have done the same damage—”

“She’s not human—”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” He blinked, stepping back. “She’s more human than most people you’ll meet. She walked into a gate to Hell to save us, Simon, knowing her death waited on the other side. And if you insist on judging her because her soul is shiny new, then you can—damn it, you can go to hell.”

She took in a breath, so angry she was shaking.

“Annie—”

“You reject her, you reject me. Eric, I need you to help me back to the house—”

“No.” Simon moved in front of her. “You’re not—like her. You were born with a soul—”

“And I’m a witch. Some people would consider me less than human. And what about you, with your freak gift? How often were you given grief over that?”

He ran one hand over his hair. “I didn’t mean—”

“None of us are perfect—some are so far from it they almost don’t qualify as human. But that woman in there, she is the most human non-human I have ever known. You want to know how I found out about Claire?” She pushed off the car, ignoring the protest from her hip. “Her demon-possessed cousin gleefully outed her, after luring Claire by kidnapping me, cutting off my earlobe and threatening my life if Claire didn’t show up and quietly walk into Hell. And if you feel like shit right about now, my job is done.”

“Damn it, Annie.” He grabbed her arm. “She blindsided me in there. I knew she had some dark secret, but this—I can’t, I’m sorry, but I can’t handle it.”

Letting her go, he walked away.

“Simon—ouch, ow ow—” Eric caught her when her left side decided to go on strike. “Don’t let him go—”

“We can’t force him to accept it. Hey,” he shook her, gently, just enough to get her attention. “You know how much of a shock it is. Give him time—” He cut himself off, looked over at the house. “Well, speak of the devil.”

“Claire.” Annie punched his arm, not so gently. “That was not funny. Claire!” She nodded to them, and kept moving, helping Zach off the porch and on to the lawn, heading away from them. “Where’s she going?”

“She’s going to help him fall.” Simon stood next to her. “It’s the reason he trapped you all in there. So he could be free.”

Annie raised her eyebrows. “And you believe this?”

“I am a priest, Annie. Angels are creatures of heaven, something we are supposed to aspire to. They shouldn’t want to become us.”

He stalked across the lawn, following after Claire.

“Get me over there.”

Eric picked her up. “Your wish, blondie. One rule, though.” He headed up the sloped lawn. “No fistfights.”

“No promises, handsome.” She smiled when he glanced at her. “But I’ll do my best.”

 

*

 

E
asing Zach to the grass, Claire wiped her face. Blood mixed with the sweat on her fingers; she cleaned them on her trousers, ignored the pain from Zach’s assault. The wind was picking up, and it felt good on her overheated skin. She tucked her hair behind her ears, focusing on Zach even as she heard her friends approaching behind her.

“You’re certain? Once we start, there is no turning back from it.”

He looked at her, his eyes stark against the pallor of his face. “I have wanted this a long time, Claire. How do we start?”

“I need you to wear this for me.” She pulled off her amethyst, slipped it around his neck. “It will help protect you.”

“I cannot—”

“Think of it as a homing device. I am connected to it, and I need a way to track you. Now give me your hand.” She linked their fingers together, his skin like ice now. She had to move fast. “There are conditions, rules you absolutely can’t break. Number one being this—if you kill, you are condemned to Hell. No reprieve, no chance to explain. Do you understand?”

“Basically, I am to live an exemplary life, or suffer for wanting to be mortal.”

“Welcome to the human race.”

A smile softened the fear radiating from him. “I look forward to it.”

“All right.” She freed his hand and stood. “Lie down, on your back, and keep from touching anything but the ground.”

 He obeyed, his power a nimbus of white against the lush green. Behind her, Annie gasped, and Claire understood why. Zach’s wings were visible. Tucked up behind his shoulder blades, they stretched several feet above his head, wind ruffling the pristine feathers.

For the first time since being separated in the house, she faced Annie. Her friend reached one hand toward Claire’s face. “Oh, honey.”

“I’ll be fine. I appreciate your support, but you are going to have to offer it from more of a distance . . .” Her voice faltered when she saw Simon standing a few feet away. He cradled his right arm, everything about him—unreadable. Pulling her gaze away from him, she smiled up at Eric. “Thank you for taking care of them. Where are Regina and Hillary?”

“Theresa took them into town,” he said. “Regina muttered something about a hotel, and not coming back here again.”

“I hope she changes her mind. Step back now. Whoa—” She let out a surprised laugh as Annie lurched forward and smothered her in a hug. “I’ll be fine. We all will.” Leaning back, she met the warm brown eyes. Tears shimmered, slipped down Annie’s face when she blinked. Claire gathered her in. “Hush—it will be all right. I promise you.”

“This isn’t dangerous?”

“Depends on your definition.”

“Okay.” Annie pulled away and wiped her face, a fierce smile widening her mouth. “Is this going to get you dead?”

“Not if I do it right.” She stood on tiptoe, kissed Eric’s cheek. “Go on—I don’t want you all caught in any blowback.”

Her gaze met Simon’s; he had moved until he stood behind Eric. She ducked her head and faced Zach, taking the coward’s way rather than see the revulsion in those clear green eyes.

“Zach.” He looked up at her, sheet white and sweating. “Just hold on, a few minutes longer. Can you do that?” He nodded, his hands trembling against the grass. “Good.” She let out a shaky breath, knelt beside him. “Let’s get started.”

Pressing both hands against her scar, she closed her eyes. Wind swirled around her, lifting her hair, wicking away the sweat beading on her skin. Under her hands, her power beat, keeping time with her heart. Power she had not touched since she was cast out of Heaven, that she once thought she lost to the dark, consuming need of the demon.

She let out her breath.

And set it free.

 

 

SIXTEEN

 

S
imon took a step back when Claire started to glow.

Her quiet voice carried on the wind, whispering an ancient version of Latin he hadn’t heard since his time in Vatican City. His mind translated as he listened, as he watched, mesmerized.

“Thank you Father for forgiving me, for washing and cleansing me. Thank you for loving me even when I fall short of your glory.”

The glow spread, across the grass, inching toward Zach. He gasped when it touched him. Claire lifted her arms and that glow jumped, enveloping him in a net of white-gold. His raw scream raised the hairs on the back of Simon’s neck.

He arched off the ground and his wings—his impossible wings—curled around his body, wrapping him from shoulder to ankle. Claire leaned forward, fingers brushing soaked hair off his face as she spoke to him.

“You need to let it go, Zach. That connection will tie you to them, and anything I do will be in vain.”

“I—cannot.”

“Only you can. Look at me, listen to my voice. Touch the earth; let it ground you, let it be your support. You will be part of this earth—feel it, Zach, and just let go.”

With a low, anguished moan he collapsed, his wings settling on his chest. She closed her hands around his splayed fingers, bent her head.

“I give this grace within me, give freely to thy servant, Zachariah, that he may rise up.”

The glow around her pulsed, changed. The gold deepened, stretched up over her head, out across her back. Spreading like—wings. The air around her hummed, sending the erratic wind into a graceful spiral, creating a circle of almost liquid gold that surrounded them.

Simon stumbled backward as the suggestion of wings solidified, became real. Gold-tipped white feathers splayed out, the wingspan massive. The wind caught her voice, magnified it.

“My grace becomes thine, Zachariah, servant of Heaven, son of earth.” Lifting him, she framed his face. The gold pouring off her tangled through his power. “Open your eyes, Zach.” Music sang through her voice. “Accept my grace.”

She kissed him—and the light around them exploded.

Annie screamed. Eric pushed her to the ground, protecting her with his body. Simon sank to his knees, blinked through the tears blinding him.

Inside that burning light he saw Claire. Her wings wrapped around them both, her power filling Zach until it shimmered out of his skin. She broke off the kiss, studied him, a smile touching her mouth.

“I will wait for you. Follow the crystal,” her finger brushed over the amethyst at his throat, pulsing like a heart. With a painful jerk, Simon recognized it. “And follow your heart.”

“You will be here for me?”

She closed her eyes briefly, something like grief crossing her face.

“Always.” She guided his hand to her, laid it over her ribcage. “Now take my grace.”

“It will hurt you—”

“There can be no joy without pain. Might as well learn that now. Take it, Zach.”

Leaning in, he laid his forehead against hers. “Thank you.”

Simon held his breath, waited, his muscles tensed.

The force of the wind tossed him across the lawn. When he stopped tumbling, Simon looked up in time to be blinded again—this time by a light so pure it made his soul ache. He covered his eyes, peered through a gap between his fingers.

Claire arched backward, agony in every line of her body. Her wings retracted, shuddering with each harsh breath. Both hands clutched Zach’s wrist like a lifeline.

He curled over her, shoulder length hair flying around his face, his wings pulled in tight against his back. They looked—smaller. And as the light around her, in her, faded, his changed.

A rich blue flowed through the white and gold, coiling around Zach like smoke. With every breath it spread, surrounding him. He let out a long, shuddering breath and pulled free of Claire. She collapsed, her wings limp. Simon dropped his hand and pushed off the ground, freezing as Zach surged to his feet.

His wings compressed, tighter and smaller with every pulse of the blue light. Through it Simon spotted the amethyst, a bright sliver shining through the fast darkening swirl of power. Zach threw his head back, every muscle rigid, the darkness closing around him.

Everything stilled, the world holding its breath. Until Zach’s scream shattered the silence. Simon doubled, covered his ears, the agony excruciating. Just when he thought his eardrums would burst it cut off—and he lifted his head in time to see Zach shoot straight up, his body turning to pure blue light as he streaked through the afternoon sky.

“Claire—” Stumbling across the grass, he dropped to his knees next to her curled, too-still figure. His hand shaking, he reached out, closed his fingers over her shoulder, eased her on to her back. Her face was sheet white against the grass, every inch of her soaked. “Claire—”

“Is she all right?” Annie reached out as Eric lowered her to the ground. “Son of a bitch—I bet she knew this was going to happen. Claire—open your eyes, damn it. Claire—”

“Can you stop yelling?” Claire whispered. “My head feels like it’s going to explode.”

“Oh, God.” Annie leaned over her. “Don’t you ever do that to me again.” With a choked sob, she pulled Claire into a tight embrace. Claire held on, her eyes closed.

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