Conduit Page 2

  “A cut on the head, nothing serious.” She looked down at him. “I can see to it.”

  Again he nodded. “I’ll be back. Look out for your brother now, Celia, for he is solely in your keeping.” He fixed her with a pointed stare then streaked skyward, carrying the little girl aloft by wings now all too visible, his mouth a set, grim line.

  Celia watched him go until she could no longer see him, then went inside with Griffin, wondering how to answer his questions when he woke up.

  Chapter Two

  “What is it about guys and blowing things up,” Lizzie muttered, frowning at the massive explosion on TV. She sighed, wishing they’d chosen something a little less action-intensive. She lay on the couch, resting her head in Lev’s lap as the bright colors from the screen lit up his face. They liked watching movies in the dark, both of them, and that explosion had brightened the whole room. Too much, maybe.

  Lev smirked. “What, you didn’t think that was cool? Can you imagine what it must have taken to create that one effect?”

  “Lots of money and CGI,” Lizzie said, glad Lev was smiling for once, even if it was a smirk. He’d been so morose since his transformation, and she’d begun to wonder if he was ever going to pull out of it. She’d hoped for the best but should have known better. When he finally had, he’d become someone completely different than the Lev she’d known before, which was to say he’d become mortal, an everyday human being with everyday human thoughts, feelings, and desires, with everyday human flaws. What else could she have expected?

  She looked at him, amazed at how quickly he’d become so deeply immersed in the movie again, yet another weirdness, at least for Lev, who had once been so fond of the classics—and of Dante and his Inferno in particular.

  Lizzie studied his profile in the near dark, taking a strange measure of joy in the fact he seemed unaware of her doing so considering how, for so long a time, he’d known everything about her—everything and then some.

  Lizzie reached up and stroked his face, smiling, her fingers caressing his chin lightly, lovingly, which finally aroused his attention. His eyes gathered her in.

  “That feels nice.” He touched her hand.

  “And here I’d thought you’d forgotten about me,” she whispered, feeling breathless under the weight of those baby blues. While he might not be an angel anymore, all that he was still held her in a power from which she knew she could never break free. She and Lev had been completely and irrevocably joined, and there was no going back, not that she’d want to.

  Lev watched her, swallowed hard, and slowly drew her to him. “I could never forget you. There’s a covenant between us, remember?”

  “I thought I had a covenant with an angel.” Although she was teasing, she meant what she said. Part of her did wonder, after all, whether what they’d felt about each other had changed since he had.

  “You’ve misunderstood, then.” He wrapped his arm around her, pulling her closer still. “A covenant is between souls. It lasts as long as we do.”

  He kissed her, softly at first, gently, then more insistently. When once his touch would have been light and supernatural, now she felt the edge of human need urging him on.

  She could feel the heat growing inside her, intoxicating, as he held her so tightly, his body strong and binding. Even though in this moment, she could tell the difference—the new Lev—she also sensed that other, the soul mate in him, and that made her feel better—made her feel safe and wanted and loved.

  Suddenly another, greater burning spread through her, paralyzing her, a burning deep in her lungs. She couldn’t breathe, and all at once her world was consumed by fire. She felt her body begin to spasm and she tried to control it but she couldn’t. She couldn’t do anything.

  “Elizabeth?”

  Lev drew back. She felt him staring, searching. She couldn’t speak, couldn’t even blink. And there was pain, far greater than any she had ever known.

  “What’s wrong?” Lev eased her back on the couch, shaking her. “Elizabeth?” His breath came frantically, and he dared not let her go. “Say something!”

  I can’t breathe, the panic and helplessness building in her thoughts. I can’t breathe, and I’m going to die right here on this couch while Lev watches me go and they blow stuff up on TV.

  Lizzie gaped at him, wishing she could reach for him, but she felt unconsciousness rush at her, an icy, relentless wave born of some black, alien sea, and she could do nothing but let it wash over her and sweep her under, dragging her into the abyss. In the distance, she thought she could hear Lev shouting her name but couldn’t be sure, not down there, not in all that nothing.

  * * *

  When Celia carried Griffin into the house, she certainly didn’t expect to hear Lev scream.

  “You have to breathe!”

  “Lev,” she called, carrying Griffin into the living room. At the door, she spotted Lev kneeling beside the couch and Lizzie lying motionless on her back, eyes wide and unseeing.

  “What’s happened?” Celia eased Griffin into the recliner by the TV. His head was still bleeding, and she knew it needed tending, but right now, Lizzie appeared in a more drastic situation.

  Lev didn’t answer. Instead, he began CPR, a mask of guilt and horror on his face. He’d done this—as though he’d killed her.

  Had he?

  “What the—?”

  Jimmie burst into the room, took one look at Celia, and saw Lizzie on the couch, Lev kneeling close, face red with exertion, trying to get her to breathe again.

  “Elizabeth.” Her name came out as a breathy prayer, and Jimmie couldn’t move.

  Celia rushed near. “Lev, what happened?”

  “I don’t know,” he spat. Without taking his eyes off Lizzie, he ceased the compressions. He leaned over her, set his mouth over hers, and breathed. A second breath, and he pulled back. He began the compressions again with renewed fervor.

  “Can you hear me, baby?” he asked, his voice rising in panic. She had to hear him—had to.

  Her eyes remained dully fixed, and the only movement of her body came from the CPR.

  “No,” he said, about to lean over again when Jimmie edged closer.

  “Do something, Celia! Save her!”

  “Move,” she commanded Lev, but he refused, so intent was he on the compressions, on Lizzie.

  “You can’t save her. Let me try before it’s too late!”

  Numb, Lev stumbled back. Immediately, Celia set her hands on Lizzie’s chest and let the powers come, her body aglow. In spite of its brilliance, Celia watched Lizzie intently, the whole time thinking she would see her best friend blink or move, but there was nothing.

  Was she dead? No, there had been no call to sojourn. So what was happening?

  Celia took a chance and pressed harder, exerting more power. Lev was already a human mess, and this—this would destroy him. It would destroy all of them.

  “C’mon, Lizzie. You have to do this. You have to!”

  Finally, she saw Lizzie’s lips part and breath return to her body. Her eyelids fluttered, but her pupils remained transfixed, as though she still saw nothing.

  “Lizzie!” she called. “Can you hear me?” She lightly slapped her friend’s face, thinking doing so would jar her back to consciousness. Something had to. Lizzie was breathing now, which meant she was alive, but still….

  The brilliance faded as Celia allowed the power to recede to her core, now hidden, where it waited to be summoned again.

  “Is she okay?” Lev demanded, pacing nearby, his hands raking savagely through his hair. He hadn’t a clue what else to do. He closed his eyes because he couldn’t bear seeing what was right in front of him. “It shouldn’t be like this. All I did was kiss her. Other humans do that all the time. Am I cursed? Is that it?”

  “Lizzie! Wake up!” Celia said, shaking her.

  She looked back at Lev. “She’s breathing, but I can’t get her to wake up. I don’t understand.”

  She gazed back at Lizzie, her fro
wn deepening.

  “Call Evan!” Lev stepped closer, panic written all over his face.

  “I can’t. He’s handling something else.” Still, in a last-ditch effort to bring Lizzie around, Celia resettled her hands on Lizzie’s chest. They began to glow again as she tried desperately to fix whatever had been damaged, yet whatever it was refused to be fixed.

  “Lizzie!” Jimmie rushed to her side. He was pale and wide-eyed as he watched his daughter.

  “We need to get her to the hospital.” Celia glanced at Jimmie. “While she is breathing, I can’t tell what has been compromised in her, and she’s not responding to anything I do. Until Evan can at least examine her, she needs to be looked after by a doctor.”

  “Start the truck,” Lev said. “I’ll get Elizabeth.”

  Jimmie left, wordlessly, and Lev knelt to pick Lizzie up.

  ***

  When he slid behind the wheel of the truck, Jimmie’s fingers still fumbled with the keys, but he soon managed well enough as Lev climbed in with Elizabeth wrapped in his arms.

  “I don’t get it,” Jimmie muttered, pulling out of the driveway and heading out on the road toward town. The only attention he paid to the road was staying on it.

  “Nor do I,” Lev managed, his gaze never leaving Lizzie. In the moonlight, she appeared all too pale and fragile, all the more helpless he felt. “She was fine before, but then it was like she had a seizure and just stopped breathing.”

  Jimmie said nothing, only drummed his fingers on the wheel. Lev could tell the man was trying desperately to keep from coming apart at the seams. How many times had he already gone through something like this? How much more would he be able to take?

  An eternity later, they pulled into the hospital parking lot. That’s when Lev felt Lizzie go rigid again in his arms, her shallow breathing suddenly ceasing.

  “No,” Lev cried.

  “What?” Jimmie’s foot faltered on the brake.

  “She’s not breathing!” Lev shook her, trying to get some kind of reaction. “Can you hear me? Wake up!”

  He watched her, horrified.

  Lev jumped out at the ER entrance even before Jimmie had fully stopped the truck. It took a moment for him to gather Lizzie into his arms and lift her out, but once he had her, he rushed inside, feeling his chest might explode from holding his breath.

  “I need some help!” he yelled. Immediately, all eyes centered on him—the waiting room was full—including a cop and three triage nurses. When they didn’t move, he yelled, “She’s not breathing! Do something!”

  The room exploded into action. One nurse grabbed a gurney and dragged it to where Lev stood, cradling Lizzie's unconscious form. Another dashed out, presumably to find a doctor, or at least that's what Lev hoped.

  "Here," the nurse with the gurney said. "Put her down here."

  A doctor suddenly charged from the triage area, gaze intent on Lizzie. He listened for breath, found none. "Back to trauma,” he yelled. “Stat!"

  The gurney was moving, taking Elizabeth where he couldn't protect her—like he’d been able to, anyway. The thought was more than he could take. He rushed after the gurney but made it only a couple of steps before the cop cut him off.

  “I’m sorry—you need to wait out here.”

  No.” Lev tried to dart around him. “That’s my girlfriend. She needs me.”

  “I’m sorry, but you still need to wait out here. There’s absolutely nothing you can do back there except get in the way.”

  “No!” Lev argued, still trying to get around the cop, yet the man, slightly shorter than Lev, matched him step for step. “Please! Let me pass.” Lev was desperate now; he’d do anything to get to Lizzie.

  “I’m sorry. I can’t let you go back there.”

  Lev considered trying to bust through him. He was taller than the cop and probably faster, but Lev saw the gun in its holster, waiting for the wrong move. Still, what if Lizzie died back there? What if she needed him and he wasn’t there? How could he ever accept the nightmare he’d suddenly found himself in?

  “Lev!”

  He whirled to find Jimmie sprinting through the door, face pale, expression drawn. Shaken, Lev focused on the guard, unsure. In the end, Jimmie came to him, simplifying the choice.

  “Where’s Lizzie?” Jimmie popped his gum, the only thing he could do since he’d quit smoking. Again.

  “She’s in the back with the doctor. They wouldn’t let me in.” Lev shook his head. “I have to do something. I can’t just wait.” The cop regarded them impassively.

  Jimmie set his hand on Lev’s shoulder. “I’m her father. Can I go back with her?”

  The cop shook his head. “I’m sorry, but no. She wasn’t breathing when she went back. I’m sure that whenever they have her stabilized, they’ll come get you.” The cop peered at the women manning the computers, working with other patients. “They’ll call you up for paperwork, anyway.”

  Lev fidgeted, his body fraught with tension. His breathing was erratic, and he couldn’t focus. Jimmie must’ve sensed it because, once the guard had gone, he leaned close.

  “Let it be. There’s nothing you can do.”

  Lev immediately bucked up. “This is Lizzie we’re talking about!” he seethed, eyeing the cop balefully—the cop who’d suddenly lost all interest. Then again, that probably had something to do with the fact that another cop was now escorting a prisoner in—a prisoner who was screaming something about a violation of his rights. Still, how could the cop just dismiss them—dismiss Lizzie—so damned easily—so damned quickly?

  “I know this is Lizzie,” Jimmie agreed, “and if you think this isn’t killing me, you’re wrong. But Lev, you’re not an angel anymore. You’re human just like me, and there’s nothing either of us can do to save her, even though we want to.”

  They both stared at the prisoner, who was obviously high and who clearly hadn’t showered in a week and who probably hadn’t combed through his hair in much longer.

  “So what, you want to just stand here?”

  “No, but sometimes we don’t get choices. You, above all, ought to know that.”

  Lev started to argue when a sudden movement in the doorway caught his attention. Both he and Jimmie saw it—saw him, Evan, his wings scarcely visible as he strode through the entrance, weaving through a crowd who seemed not to see him at all.

  Evan offered both a solemn nod. The timing couldn’t have been worse. Unless Evan came to act in an angelic capacity. Lev froze, horrified at such a thought. “This can’t be.” He stepped forward, ignoring the way his father motioned for him to stop, but Jimmie grabbed his arm, held him back.

  “Let’s hear what he has to say.”

  “No!” Lev snapped. Everyone stared, forcing Lev to lower his voice. “You know what he’s going to do, right—unless we stop him.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “When I stopped being a sojourner, someone had to take my place. It seems Evan has come for Elizabeth.” He closed his eyes.

  Jimmie flinched, struggling to regroup. His expression went suddenly blank, as though he couldn’t figure out how to handle his conflicted emotions. “He’s also a healer, a guardian angel, and an enemy to those who destroy what is good. You have to remember that. We don’t know that he’s here for her. Maybe Celia sent him.”

  “We don’t know he’s not, either.” Lev folded his arms across his chest, his body stiff. He watched Evan disappear through the door as though it weren’t there, an angel trick Lev had often performed by rote, one now denied him.

  “Evan is still your father…sort of. Part of you used to believe in him and believe that regardless of what he did, whatever it was, it was for the best, and that he would do anything to help you.” Jimmie squared his shoulders. “You have to trust him.”

  “No.” Lev headed for the door.

  “This time you don’t have a choice. We’re in the same boat, you and me, so let’s sit over here until we know something.”

  Lev gritted his te
eth. For just a moment as Jimmie stared into his hard expression, he thought perhaps Lev might ignore him, but Lev finally just sank into the first chair he found.

  “Family of Elizabeth Moon?” One of the women behind the computer stood and regarded the crowd expectantly. Evan motioned for Lev to stay put and then strode up that direction.

  “I’m Lizzie’s father.”

  “Could you fill this out and give us your insurance card to scan, please?” the woman asked, careful to avoid his gaze. Part of Jimmie wanted to think it had to do with Lizzie’s condition, but the realistic part of him knew that wasn’t likely. It would be more rational to think that the nurse would just feel that same way about any of the patients. She might have to work in an ER, but that didn’t make her immune to the sadness which came through the doorway into this place, and a seventeen-year-old girl who stopped breathing was definitely sad.

  Jimmie struggled to fill out the form. Granted, it wouldn’t have been nearly so bad were he not worried Lev would do something rash. Lev had been doing a lot of rash things lately, but this was the first real opportunity for getting into serious trouble, what with that cop standing nearby, his gaze often wandering toward Lev.

  As he returned the paperwork, a triage nurse stepped out from behind the door, a chart in hand.

  “Family of Elizabeth Moon?” She searched the sea of people.

  “Here,” Jimmie said. In his peripheral vision, he saw Lev striding over, worry etching furrows in his forehead.

  The nurse skimmed the chart. “At present, we have her breathing. She seems stable, but we aren’t sure what’s going on. We’re running some tests.”

  “Can we see her?” The rigid posture of Jimmie’s shoulders eased slightly. He peered at Lev and found the expression still stunned; he waited for something else to come out of the nurse’s mouth. Did he really believe Evan would have done anything to hurt Lizzie? That would be ridiculous.

  “Yes, I can take you back; however,” she said, waiting for them both to look her in the eye, “if she stops breathing again, you’ll have to leave. Do you understand?”