Anathema (Sojourner Series Book 4) Page 3

  What in the hell is going on?

  “Griffin?” I lean against the bed as I stand.

  Silence. My breath stutters in and out as I slip around the bed to find two bodies collapsed one atop the other. The world suddenly stills, and I begin shaking my head in denial. Even from here, I can see Griffin isn’t breathing. I want to be wrong. Maybe since my vision is so messed up I can’t really tell.

  I force myself to kneel and reach out to Griffin’s neck. My trembling fingers skim his flesh and sink down, probing for a pulse. Nothing. It doesn’t matter where I move. I can’t feel anything. Still, I keep trying. It has to be there.

  “Griffin?” I say, my voice trembling like my body. “Can you hear me?”

  I stare hard at him, watching for any sign of movement. Nothing—no flaring of the nostrils or fluttering of eyelashes, not the slightest hint he’s still in his body.

  What have I done?

  I look at my hand, trying to find anything else out of the ordinary, something to make all of this logical, but it looks the same as it always has. I run my fingers across the top of it, but nothing feels amiss.

  Confused, I snatch my fingers away and force myself to stand. I give Griffin one last glance, desperately searching for any signs of change; there are none, which means I’ve really killed him.

  I suck in air like somebody has just punched me in the stomach and scurry from the bodies. I actually make it about four feet before I vomit, and it’s then I see my reflection in Griffin’s bureau mirror. The person looking back at me is a stranger. Her long hair cascades over her shoulders, and her face is flushed. Her eyes peer at me with that haunted look.

  I hate her. I hate her. I hate her.

  I grab a baseball from the stand next to his mirror. I know somebody signed the thing and that’s why Jimmie keeps it, but it doesn’t matter to me. I hurl it with all my might at the mirror, and the shattering glass sprays outward in a silver shower. Still, even after the damage is done, a single shard remains, and in it, I see my reflection just as clearly as if I’d broken nothing.

  I have to get out of here.

  I stagger out the door, my hands grasping the walls as I stumble down the hall. The world is spinning like a crazy carnival ride, and it’s hot—so so hot. I’m almost to the end of the hall when I see the shadow of someone about to turn the corner. I stagger backward, my gaze falling to my hand. I shove it in my pocket, as if that’ll do any good.

  The shadow lengthens, and Jimmie enters. He stops short as he sees me and cocks his head to one side, as if surprised.

  “Lizzie? Are you all right?” He steps toward me, but I stagger backwards.

  “Stay away from me!” I clench my fingers into a fist just to prove that I can still control my own body, that my hand won’t suddenly act of its own accord and kill the man I’ve come to think of as my father.

  Jimmie stops short and raises his hands. “Lizzie, you look like hell. What’s wrong with you? Are you on something?” He shakes his head and starts toward me again.

  It’s then I feel the horrible pain seize me, and my vision suddenly shifts to the blackness in which Jimmie becomes a red-orange blur. My throat is tightening, and my body shakes convulsively. I slam against the wall and start sliding down it.

  “Lizzie. Oh, God!” I hear Jimmie say, and the blur rushes toward me. I want to fight it, but I can’t. My hand slips out of my pocket, and I feel the muscles contracting in my arm as it lifts. I know what’s coming abut I can’t fight it, no matter how hard I try.

  “Please, Jimmie.” Those words are the last thing I remember hearing as the pain fractures my world so much I can’t think. There are only shapes and blurs of light as I see Jimmie reach for my hand, thinking I’m reaching for him, as the light glows on my fingertips and jumps toward him. The reddish-orange blur suddenly crumbles to the floor, and I hear a loud keening cry it takes a moment to realize is coming from me.

  It takes what seems like forever for the pain to become bearable enough to move. I don’t even want to blink, so I just close my eyes, trying to shut out Jimmie’s prone form in front of me. All the while, I’m screaming and crying, and it doesn’t matter anymore. Jimmie and Griffin are both gone, and it’s my fault. I’m stuck in this hellish world that makes no sense.

  When I can finally lift my head up without feeling as though lightning is striking me, I try to sit up. My face is soaked with tears, and I draw the back of my hand across my cheeks as I get to my knees and crawl to Jimmie. Once again, my vision has returned to that funhouse look so I try to believe that just because I don’t see him breathing doesn’t mean anything. It could be a mistake. He could still be alive.

  “Jimmie.” My voice warbles with the pain, and I’m so tired. I want to go to sleep and never wake up. I force myself to reach across him, too, my hand lingering just above his neck. For a few seconds, I just can’t make myself touch him, afraid of what I’ll find, but then I force my fingers downward. Once again, no matter where I search, I feel no gentle throbbing beneath the skin, no signs Jimmie has survived.

  “No,” I scream and slam my hand against the ground until it hurts. I want to cut it from my body, anything to stop what it’s doing.

  “Jimmie, you have to get up,” I whisper. More tears run down my face. “I can’t do this without you. Period. You have to get up.” I start tugging at his body, trying to propel him into movement, but he lies there like a stone no matter what I do.

  “Jimmie! Please!” I cradle his head in my lap and stroke his face, thinking that will bring him around. I know what he’s gonna say. “Lizzie, you sick or something?” And he’s right. It’s the “or something.”

  I don’t know how long I sit there, crying and touching Jimmie’s face, expecting he’ll come back to me, but when I finally realize beyond any doubt Jimmie is dead, I softly lay his head back on the carpet and force myself to get up. Swallowing the bile in the back of my throat, I force myself to head toward the kitchen. My balance is so out of whack I knock off a lamp and a few books from a table in passing before I finally get there.

  The room is dark, but I know it well. I don’t bother turning on the lights before I go to the cutting block and pull out the first knife I can find. I glare at my hand, trying to ignore the tears and then lay it palm up on the counter. I slam the knife into it.

  Pain. I scream and pull the knife out. Blood pools darkly and in the jagged cut. But my fingers still wriggle as they should, and I can’t have that. I don’t want to kill anyone else, so I bring the knife up again.

  Suddenly someone grabs me from behind. A strong hand grips the hand with the knife, stalling my motion, while the other wraps itself around my waist.

  “No!” I scream, thrashing. “I have to do this! I have to!”

  “Elizabeth, it’s okay. You’re okay!” A cold fear washes over me as I recognize the voice. Lev. Sweet Jesus, he can’t be here. Not now.

  “No! I’m not!” I scream. “You have to get out of here. My hand!” I look at it, searching for the glow that could kill him.

  “Shhh!” he whispers in my ear. “Your hand will heal. You need to stop fighting, baby.”

  I see my hand start to glow and thrash harder. “No! No!” I try to bring the knife toward me, but Lev is stronger. He doesn’t know I will destroy him.

  “Stop fighting, Elizabeth. It’s going to be okay.” I can hear him trying to be calm, but I know better. He’s just as afraid as I am, but he’s thinking of me—and it’s gonna get him killed.

  My perception dwindles to that blindness and heat vision, but since he’s behind me, I see only blackness ahead except for the hands that hold me. No, I think, realizing the fire doesn’t have to jump from me to him. If I’m touching him, it will work just as well.

  “No!” I scream, thrashing as violently as I can. Even as strong as Lev is, he’s completely taken by surprise and barely maintains his grip as I try to free myself. Suddenly there is another source of white heat in front of me, and I try to clench my fist to c
ontain the growing power I feel there, but I can’t. Once again, I have no control over my body.

  “Elizabeth, you have got to calm down. We can’t help you until you do.”

  The voice fills my mind, but this isn’t Lev; it’s Evan. That must be who’s standing in front of me. He’s not safe, either. “Please go,” I whisper. My body feels so tired, and I suddenly stop fighting Lev as the energy builds in my hand. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “Slow her heart,” Evan orders.

  Suddenly there is this humming, and I feel my heart slowing even as the light shoots from my hand. This time, there is a wall there it harmlessly bounces off.

  “Now what?” Lev asks.

  “Make her sleep.”

  “It’s okay, Elizabeth. Let go of the knife.” His touch is soothing, and his voice suddenly sounds musical. I blink two or three times, and my vision starts to clear so I can see Evan’s clear form in front of me. He’s holding his hands up, and the white light is bouncing off an invisible wall. His wings are fully visible, and he glows with the bright light.

  Lev kisses my temple and whispers something in my ear. Then that other blackness swoops in and takes me with it.

  Chapter Three

  “Elizabeth, can you hear me?”

  The voice is deep, distorted, and far away, buried beneath the vicious pounding that pulses in my temples. “Go away,” I whisper. “Please just go away.”

  I try to cling to the blackness, aware of what will happen if I fully awaken. The nightmare will continue, and there is only one person left who matters-Lev. I’d rather die than go through that loss all over again.

  “You have to wake up.” The voice is less distorted and closer. Although I still cannot recognize it, I have a feeling it’s Lev.

  “No. If I wake up, I’ll hurt you.”

  Suddenly there’s an image of me standing in a white room when Lev appears. He wears white pants, and his shirtless chest glows golden in the bright light. His skin is translucent, ethereal. His wings seem so much taller than I remember, and he holds my hands in his. His expression is cast in a worried frown.

  Immediately, I try to pull away, terrified of being too close. “Get away from me!”

  “It’s okay. You can’t hurt me here.” He holds me despite my struggles and pulls me into his embrace.

  “Where are we?” All around us, all I can see is stark whiteness—no walls, windows, or doors. Just endless space, and Lev with me.

  “An…alternate dimension.”

  I shudder against him and feel his arms tighten around me. “I don’t understand. What’s happening?” I feel like I’m about to fall apart, so it’s a good thing he’s holding me.

  “Shhh,” he soothes. “You’re going to be fine.”

  “No,” I whisper. “Not after what I’ve done. I wish I were dead, Lev!”

  He pulls back. “What you’ve done?” I don’t understand.” He shakes his head in confusion.

  “Griffin. And Jimmie.” My voice breaks, and I start crying. I look down at my hand and spot a bandage which makes me cry even harder because it reminds me all the more of my transgressions against those I love.

  “What about them, Elizabeth? I don’t understand what you are getting at.”

  “They’re dead,” I sputter. “I killed them.” I feel my body sinking as my knees give way, but Lev’s hands sense the shift and support me.

  “No, Elizabeth. They’re not dead. You’ve got to listen to me. The dagger is doing something to you. I’m not sure what, and I’m not sure about the trigger, but not everything you’ve seen is real. A lot of it is just in your head.”

  “So what didn’t I imagine?” I ask, trying not to think about the images of Griffin and Jimmie dying.

  “Your hand. What you did—that’s real.” He touches the bandage and when he looks at me, I see the pain in his tight-lipped frown. He looks scared as hell, and that alone threatens to send me into orbit. It’s never a good thing to be able to unnerve an angel.

  “Jimmie and Griffin are both fine.” He reaches out and touches my face. “It’s you I’m worried about.”

  “No.” I try to pull away even though I want to stay there, feeling his caress for the rest of my life. I know I can’t, not at this cost.

  “Elizabeth, they’re fine. I promise you.” Lev follows after me, his hands reaching for me.

  “I believe you,” I finally manage, my voice raspy from all the tears I’m keeping so tightly locked inside . “But they’re only going to stay fine if I remain here, where I can’t hurt them. The minute I leave this place, I put them in danger, and I’d rather die first.”

  For the first time, I see anger darken Lev’s features as those ocean eyes boil into a violent, churning storm. “You listen to me, Elizabeth Moon. You can’t stay here! You can’t pull yourself out of life because living it scares you. That’s not an option.”

  His hands latch onto my arms, and I try unsuccessfully to pull away. “Yes, it is!” Let go!”

  “No.” His grip tightens. “I know you want to protect them, but this isn’t the way, and you know it. You have a reason to be afraid of this power, but truth be told, even if you stay here, locked in a self-imposed prison you mean to use to keep them safe, that doesn’t mean you won’t destroy them. Your body doesn’t need your mind to kill, Elizabeth. It can do it just fine even if you stay here.”

  “No!” I scream and jerk away. I start running. I don’t know where I’m going, and it doesn’t matter. I just want to escape from his words because they’re tearing me apart.

  Lev catches me, and I whirl to face him. “Why did you stop me!” I look at my hand. “Why didn’t you let me tear it apart?”

  Lev gently grabs my hand. “And do you think that would have stopped it? Elizabeth, it isn’t just about your hand. The power is fused to your entire being. Even if you cut off your hand, your body will still kill. Trust me.”

  I burst into tears and start sinking, Lev tries to grab me but I’m falling too fast for anyone to stop the momentum. We both end up on the ground. He wraps his arms around me, and we both sit there. He rocks me as I cry, realizing this nightmare is never going to be over. Never.

  “It’s going to be okay. I promise,” he whispers, kissing my ear.

  “How can you say that? It’s not your promise to make, is it?”

  He peers into my eyes and rests his forehead against mine. “I know you think this is impossible, but we will find a way to get through it. And yes, it is a promise I can make. You just have to trust me. Can you do that?”

  Knowing there are no other choices, I nod. “Can Evan protect you?”

  He nods and squeezes my hand. “Yes. It will be fine.”

  “Okay. How do I get back?”

  He kisses my forehead. “Just close your eyes and follow the sound of my voice. Remember—it will be okay.”

  “’Kay.” I start to close my eyes but then stop.

  “What’s wrong?”

  I peer up into his eyes and find my small reflection filling them. “I’m scared, Lev. I don’t want to lose you, and I don’t know what’s going on.”

  “You couldn’t lose me if you tried.” I open my mouth to argue, and he slips his fingers over my lips. “Yeah, I know a couple of months ago you tried. It didn’t work then, either, if you remember. Now close your eyes.”

  I stare at his face, memorizing the way I look in his eyes, hoping he’ll always see me like that, no matter what happens. He brushes his thumbs across my eyelids, and I let them close. Everything seems to fall away. I hear a voice calling my name. It seems so distant I have to reach for it. My mind is sluggish, like I am swimming through deep water, trying to reach the surface.

  The distance and distortions in the voice fade and I find myself awake and well aware of the horrible pounding in my head and the pain throbbing in my hand even before I force open my eyes.

  “Elizabeth? Can you hear me?” Lev’s voice.

  “Stay away,” I whisper, hoping I’m sp
eaking louder than it sounds. I open my eyes and find, to my dismay, he’s leaning close to me.

  “Calm down,” he says.

  “Go away,” I say louder, despite the fact that raising my voice intensifies the pain. When I see he’s not going to move, I try to sit up. His hand shoots out and nudges me back down.

  “You’re too weak to attack anyone, okay? I’m not in any danger, so stop fighting me.”

  “Where’s Evan?” I look around the room, searching. He’s the only one who can fight this power. He has to be here.

  “In the living room, talking to Jimmie. You need me to get him?”

  I shake my head and lick my lips, realizing just how parched my throat is. Lev grabs a glass of water from the nightstand by my bed. As I start to take it, I see the thick, white gauze wrapped around my hand. It startles me so badly I almost drop the glass, but Lev is there to steady it.

  “My hand. What happened?” I look at him, pleading.

  He sets the glass back on the nightstand and takes my wounded hand in his. “You…did…this.” His voice is strained, and I can tell by the tense line of his shoulders and the hard set of his jaw he’s struggling not to show emotions.

  “What about Jimmie…and Griffin?” My heart is speeding up, and I feel my thoughts swirling crazily. I grip the blankets tightly in one fist, all the while staring at his face, begging for certain words to come out.

  “They’re fine, just like before you…slipped away. I promised, remember?”

  I close my eyes and release the breath I’ve been holding, grateful for those two miracles. “But my hand….”

  He looks down at it. “I found you when you were stabbing yourself, Elizabeth. I tried to stop you, but I wasn’t quick enough. You were lost in some kind of trance, and no one could seem to wake you.”