Chapter Fourteen
RATHIEL
Lily slept. I did not.
Instead, I sat by the fire—what remained of it anyway—and poked at the dying coals.
Every now and then, I stirred them with a stick.
It wasn’t so much about keeping the fire alive, but more about giving myself something to do, something to occupy my time.
Anything to keep myself from obsessively tracking Lily’s breathing.
I couldn’t stop thinking about last night.
The way she’d screamed, how she’d woken up choking, like she couldn’t breathe.
It wasn’t the first time I’d pulled her out of a nightmare—nor would it be the last—but there was something different about this one.
It’d felt more…real, if that was possible.
She’d never shoved me away like that before.
And when she’d bolted to the rocks, I hadn’t been sure what to expect, but I certainly hadn’t expected her to double over like that, shaking and gasping.
I didn’t know much about sickness—celestials, fallen angels, demons, even hellspawn, never fell ill—but I knew enough to know she hadn’t been well.
I tore my gaze away from the fire and stared at her.
She lay curled on her side, one hand tucked under her cheek, the other pressed against her chest. Her dark lashes rested on skin that was still far too pale.
While her colour had improved a little since the nightmare, it was not enough to ease my worries.
What really concerned me was her stillness. Usually, Lily moved in her sleep—a finger twitch, a foot flex, an arm jerk. But she hadn’t moved in hours. It’d concerned me enough that once or twice—perhaps more—I’d leaned over to ensure she was still breathing.
Movement drew my attention, and I glanced up to find that the camp had begun to rouse.
Hellspawn stirred from wherever they’d passed out hours before.
They clamoured to their feet, stretched, let out yawns loud enough to startle the dead, even stomped their feet to wake themselves.
All typical hellspawn behaviour I’d seen before.
The difference was that this time, their annoyingly loud routine didn’t bother Lily.
Usually, she woke at the slightest sound, but today, she didn’t so much as flinch.
What was the cause of this exhaustion? She’d used a lot of magic yesterday to resurrect her army. Was that it? Or did this go deeper than that?
Quiet footsteps of the non-hellspawn variety moved toward me.
I didn’t need to look up to know it was Eliza.
She moved with a graceful quality I suspected was part of her siren heritage.
She stopped, then sat next to me, her legs stretched out and her palms bracing her weight behind her.
For a moment, she studied me silently before finally turning her attention to Lily.
“She’s still out,” she said.
“Mm-hmm,” was all I said.
Eliza chewed her bottom lip, concern wrinkling her brow. Yeah, even the merc knew that was unusual for Lily. She was usually the first up and the one pushing us to get moving.
“Vol and Purrgy?” I asked.
“They’re around,” Eliza said. “Purrgy seems to understand how important it is that he stick close, so I haven’t been locking him in the carrier as much.”
A quick scan of our surroundings showed me the two in question mucking about, harassing a sleeping Calyx.
I watched them for a moment, humour tugging at my lips when Purrgy jumped onto Calyx and began kneading his chest. The fallen didn’t look the least bit impressed by this decision.
In fact, he looked about ready to knock the ginger fluffball off until Purrgy laid down and nooked his head beneath Calyx’s chin.
His pale grey eyes briefly widened, then he tentatively laid a hand on Purrgy’s back, as though not really sure what to do with the animal.
But for now, the two seemed content. Seemed Eliza was right.
Purrgy didn’t seem inclined to run off at all.
That was a relief. One less thing for Lily to worry about.
“So, what happened last night?” Eliza asked.
I sighed and drew a single knee up to my chest. “Lily had a nightmare.”
“I’m aware,” she said dryly. “Pretty sure half the camp heard her. Nightmares happen.”
They did, but…
“What about this one has you so worried?” she pressed.
“Who says I’m worried?”
“Me,” Eliza said without missing a beat. “Maybe the others wouldn’t notice, but I can see it. You’re concerned.”
I spared her a glance. She wasn’t wrong. I was concerned. Normally, I wouldn’t discuss something this personal with anyone other than Lily, but she wasn’t exactly in a chatty mood lately.
“Something is going on,” I finally admitted. “And I don’t know what it is. I don’t like that.”
“Yeah,” Eliza murmured.
I wasn’t sure if her agreement reassured or concerned me, considering she’d clearly picked up on it too.
Eliza stole a quick glance around, and once she confirmed no one was listening to us, she continued. “I checked in with her last night, before the whole screaming bloody murder in the middle of the night thing. I asked her how she was feeling, and she assured me she was fine and not going dark.”
I stayed quiet.
“And since she’s not sprouting horns—does her father even have horns?—or eating hellspawn babies for breakfast—are there hellspawn babies? Can they even procreate?” She waved a dismissive hand. “I digress—I’m inclined to believe her.”
What in the name of all things unholy was she rambling on about?
“This leads me to think there’s something else at play here.” She paused. “Have you noticed she hasn’t spent much time with Purrgy lately? Or doted on Vol like she normally does?”
My mouth flattened. “She’s been busy. And then with what happened to Sable—”
“I know,” Eliza said, cutting me off. “No need to get defensive. I have a point, I promise. It’s just one of the changes I’ve noticed recently. And there are others too.”
Yeah, I’d also noticed things. Like how she’d pushed me away after Sable’s death.
Lily always sought me out when she needed comfort, but lately, she’d been putting distance between us.
Not to mention our fight after we’d buried Sable.
We’d fought before—of course we had. We didn’t always agree on everything.
But her choice to fly off with Calyx to scout the outpost had been incredibly unusual.
She’d explained her logic, and it’d been sound, but the Lily I knew would never have chosen Calyx over me.
We never went anywhere apart. Not after everything we’d endured. Not if we could avoid it.
“PTSD,” Eliza suddenly said, like I was supposed to know what that even meant.
I blinked at her. “Is that even a word?”
“It isn’t,” she agreed. “It’s an acronym used to describe a condition studied on Earth, one that’s caused by extremely stressful or terrifying events. I’ve seen it enough in my line of work to know it isn’t exclusively a human thing.”
“What is it?”
“The letters stand for Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder,” she said. “Picture it this way. You’ve fought in wars. You’ve bled, you’ve killed, you’ve seen some gnarly, gory things, yes?”
I jerked a nod.
“Well, your brain stores it all. The adrenaline, the terror. But when everything calms down, even if just for a moment, and you can finally relax, your brain doesn’t understand you’re safe.
And it’s almost like it plays a trick on you, to keep you alert and aware.
It makes you think you’re back in it, still fighting that war, even if you’re not.
And when that happens, it manifests itself as nightmares, trouble sleeping, anxiety, aggression, angry outbursts—does any of this sound familiar? ”
All of it, unfortunately.
“Lily is showing the symptoms,” Eliza finished.
“Last night, she brought her army back from the dead. For the first time in a long while, she could relax. All these hellspawn she trusts with her life—her words, not mine—suddenly surrounded her. They’re here, and they’ll protect her from Lucifer, from dragons, from any threat that manifests.
When I was singing last night, she visibly relaxed.
And when that happens, it’s like a pressure valve is released inside.
The body knows it isn’t in immediate danger, but the brain doesn’t believe it. Brains can be stupid that way.”
“Except, she doesn’t have a human brain.”
“Like I said, I’ve seen this in vampires, werewolves, even other sirens. She’s a celestial, but she’s still human—for lack of a better phrase. I know she isn’t actually a human, but…”
I understood her point.
“Can you tell me our girl hasn’t been in some truly horrifying situations?” Eliza asked. “Even in, say, the last few weeks?”
Unfortunately, I couldn’t tell her that.
Lily had faced more impossible situations than anyone should ever have to endure—many of them in the past few weeks alone.
Since I’d found her on Earth, she’d killed her traitorous ex-best friend, fought—and nearly been killed by—Lucifer’s fallen, watched someone she cared about die, and then returned to Hell knowing it would eventually force her to face her father again.
Then she’d fallen into a coma to restore her memories, fought and killed a dragon, lost another companion, resurrected her army…
The list went on and on. Anyone would break after all that.
My gaze returned to Lily, as it always did, only to note she still hadn’t moved.
“How do we help her?” I asked.