Chapter Thirty-Nine
A fter our debriefing with the Aces, Thatcher continued to cuss about how terrible Captain Harrison was. We left the part of my glowing dagger out, saving it for when we had alone time with Father Benedict.
I managed to drag my ass through campus, thankful the stone concealed my disgusting presence.
Unfolding the semi-damaged paper Chloe gave me, I tried to pronounce the two words she wrote that controlled the stone’s abilities, Nochd and Falach.
A quick search on the internet helped me out, finding that it derived from Scotland. More specifically, Scottish Gaelic.
It would make sense. Juniper was from the area, but nobody here spoke it that I was aware of, so I found it odd they used certain words in the language. I wondered if past generations became less accustomed to the old ways, only keeping what was necessary. Either way, it worked, and after an hour in the showers, scrubbing my body until it turned red and watching the black water finally turn clear, a girl smiled before heading into her stall as I stepped out.
My feet ached a little. A pedicure would sure have eased some of the tension in my heels.
Collapsing on my bed with the towel wrapped around my body, I stared at Heather’s empty side, promising to visit her as soon as I got some rest. I brushed through the wet tangles and got into a freshly washed silk pajama set, then curled under the covers, exhaustion sweeping me away into oblivion.
Standing on the precipice of battle, readying myself to draw my sword, Josh stood beside me, sporting an identical weapon. His smile was reassuring, moving the scar on his left cheek. Touching where the wound had healed, I kissed his cheek gently, returning to the battle before us.
“Are you ready?” he asked, taking my hand in his.
“I’m ready to finish this,” I declared. It was time to end the evil.
Josh shouted for our fleet to commence as we barreled down the hill, weapons raised, joining the others on the battlefield.
The first swing I took sliced an unfamiliar demon, almost humanlike, its head rolling away. Josh and I stood back to back, swinging every blow, hitting our target every time. Blood flew, bodies collapsed, some human, some demon, as demons of every species plagued the field we fought on, working together to take all of us down.
My sword glowed, power emanating from the blade. I grunted, finding myself in a standoff between two more, not sure what they were called, but I kept fighting.
Josh shouted another command, only to give me a private one in my head. Back up a bit. Use me as leverage.
Knowing exactly what he meant, I put all my weight on his back, rolling off to switch sides with him. How are more showing up?!
They had time to build their armies. I wouldn’t be surprised if the numbers were—
I heard his grunt. The sound of metal on metal colliding caught my attention.
Finishing off a demon of my own, I tried to help Josh, only to be caught by several more invading my space. Chloe stood on the outer edges with Baron, trying to stop any more from coming through.
Josh cursed, metal clashing. “You’re a fucking coward!”
“And you’re dead.” That voice iced my skin, threatening to end someone I cared deeply for.
Josh struggled, then the noises stopped, and I turned at the last second to see a sword stab him directly in the heart.
I dropped to my knees, screaming, “JOSH!”
Standing over his body was an all too familiar man, hair black as night, clothes of the same color. A smile, one of deceit and destruction, mocking me from afar. I lost my will to move, to continue, feeling the connection of our souls fizzle out, fading into the abyss.
My chest throbbed, the absence of his voice, his soul, weighing a heavy burden inside. Leaning forward on my hands and knees, I tried to catch my breath.
A dark shadow blocked out the sun, and the dark man bent down until his rough hand gripped the back of my neck.
“Now you’re mine.”
Gasping, I awoke to the sight of Josh shaking my shoulders. Without thinking, I pulled him into a tight embrace, making sure it felt real.
“Rem… you… you’re… crush… ing… my… wind… pipe!” he choked.
I didn’t care, because he was there, alive, in my room, the smell of his musk easing the terror away, never to scare me again. “Give me a minute. Please.” Easing the pressure off his lungs, I continued to hug his strong build.
Tears escaped, hitting his shoulder. “Are you crying?”
Yes. “No.” Soon, they flowed, and I tried my hardest to muffle my sobs.
He circled his arms around me, and we sat, holding onto one another. He let me cry for what seemed like forever until nothing else came out, but he never once let go. I focused on my breathing, my stomach hurting from the intensity of my sobs. Josh, warm and sturdy, rubbed my back in circles, waiting it out in silence.
My throat was parched and sore, and breaking away, I looked into his eyes, blue as the ocean, a sea I happily got lost in.
Pushing my hair back behind my ears, our bond sizzled underneath the surface. What to say when a dream that real plagued my mind? “I’m sorry.”
“Remi, it was only a dream,” he soothed.
Was it? When all of it, right down to his death, might follow into reality.
Josh gave me some time to collect myself before our second training session. I stomached what food I could in the cafe, but whatever appetite I had faded as the day went on.
Before going, I stopped to visit Heather. The machines beeped away like nothing had changed, keeping her stable. According to Nurse Amelia, her body temperature never reached the standard but dipped a few times during my absence. I gave her my personal number and firm instructions to call me if that ever happened again.
Making my way to the main dining room underground, the curtains behind the dais were wide open, showing a very shirtless, very sweaty Josh running on the treadmill.
Sweat dripped down his pecs, right into the waistband of his shorts. His body, of godly perfection, glistened, tempting me to lick every inch—I never built a mental wall so fast in my life, heat spreading to my cheeks.
Wireless headphones blasted some heavy beat inside his ears, and he picked up the pace, matching the tempo. He ran his fingers through his hair, drenched in sweat, finally looking up to see me gawking on the side.
He waved, taking one earbud out. “Hop on, killer.”
Dropping my bag, I used the other machine to his right, setting up my incline, when he handed me his other earbud. “Thanks.” He must’ve lowered the volume, but the beat was catchy, getting me into a groove rather quickly.
I peeked over at his time, watching the clock tick up to forty minutes. Was he here the whole time while I checked on Heather?
We ran in silence, only the sound of our shoes hitting the tread, his music accompanying our workout. It was no shock that his tastes were like what he played, and I wondered when the last time was. Between the infamous party and our little escape upstate, when did he have the time to gig out with his fellow bandmates?
My muscles groaned in protest, not used to working so hard since freshmen year track; the only time I took part in anything in all my high school career.
I picked up speed to match him, and he took notice of our pace and smiled, his face covered in perspiration. For someone to be that sweaty running and look hot while doing it was enough to put any runway model to shame.
Double-checking my mental walls, I smiled in return, my heart pumping overtime with the physical activity and his sensual lips perking up at the corners of that goddamn mouth.
Thirty minutes came and went, and calling it quits, I leaned forward, hands on knees, trying to control my breathing.
The music stopped, and Josh hopped off the treadmill, grabbing two dark blue towels off one of the benches and handing one over. “I think we should do cardio at least three times a week.”
I groaned, taking the towel and wiping the sweat off. “Great. What’s next? Hike a mountain?”
He laughed, rubbing the towel over his abdomen. I swear if I had zero self-control, there was no doubt in my mind I would have been on my knees.
“Nah, although, never say never.” Chugging back water from a black bottle, he wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. “Time to lift weights.”
Smirking, I got an idea. “Lift weights, but you answer any question I have?”
Patting the empty seat by the mirror, he grabbed two five-pound weights. “Sit, do a few reps, then we talk?”
“Deal.”
Josh stood behind my head, arms crossed, instructing the workout I would perform. He had me start with a chest press, correcting my form several times until he approved of my movement. Little did he know the reason for my shit formation was his choice of continuing to instruct shirtless, right above me.
After finishing another rep, I took a little break, my arms like noodles. “I want you to explain how you found me the other night.”
He groaned, looking at the ceiling. “Right.” Taking one sixty-pound dumbbell, he sat at the end of the bench, curling. “A strand of your hair dipped in my blood was given to Father Benedict, who then placed it on a map. A prayer is performed, and then he drags the strand over the map. The blood only stains where that person is.”
Flabbergasted, I half-chuckled. “Wait, what? That’s—”
“Impossible?” He switched the dumbbell to his left. “Yet we just battled one of the biggest Magidoz I’d ever seen.”
Sitting back, hugging my knees, I watched his muscles expand with each rep. even his shoulder blades moved, the sight delectable. But I had to focus. “Yes, demons are real. I have a sense ghosts are as well, but what you’re claiming is… magic.”
“Magic, prayers, it’s all the same. Father Benedict is a gifted priest, equipped to help us survive another day.” He moved to stand, lifting a brow at me. Taking the hint, I carried my weights over, creating some space between us. “Reverse fly.”
I watched him first, bending halfway and lifting his arms at a ninety-degree angle, feet spread evenly apart. Sighing, I mimicked his stance, right down to the lift, my back screaming in agony.
Damn, I was out of shape. “What is a Drarkoth demon?” Speaking in between reps was a workout on its own.
“The most human-looking abomination to walk the planet. Think of a vampire. They can drain someone dry but are short on beauty.”
I thought of my sick obsession with vampire romance books at the ripe age of thirteen. “Damn, and here I thought my dream man, Edward Cullen, lived.”
Josh howled, almost losing his balance. “Nowhere near that disco ball.”
“Oh, so you’ve seen it?” I teased.
“I got a sister, so yeah, I’ve seen it, one too many times,” he replied, returning the dumbbell.
I followed suit, lying on the mat. “Funny, I pictured you as an only child.”
Josh joined, only to kick me in the shins to start a round of sit-ups. “Our age gap is nine years.” He counted backward from thirty.
Getting to twenty-five, I paused to rest. “Wow, uh, that’s wild.”
He kept going with the sit-ups. “Not really. Some in the Order have bigger ones.”
“Aiden and I are exactly one year apart.”
Josh stopped mid-sit-up. “You have a brother? How is he not in the Order?”
I shrugged. “Honestly, nothing surprises me anymore.”
“But there’s no record—”
Glass shattered from the dining room, a loud groan coming soon after. “Father!”
Josh bolted upright, running at full speed, jumping off the dais. It took me a couple of seconds to catch up.
Collin knelt on the floor, Father Benedict shaking, foam spewing from his mouth. Panic clenched my stomach, but Josh kept his cool, arms spread, blocking any attempt to approach the scene.
“He’s seizing! He needs help!” I tried to get past Josh, only to get knocked back by his arm.
He shook his head. “No! Don’t touch him. Let him finish.”
“What the fuck?” I gasped, pushing against his back. “Josh, he could die!”
Collin stayed mute, watching in horror from the floor less than a few feet from where Father lost control.
“He’s a Seer. It’s a vision,” explained Josh.
What the…?
Eventually, Father stopped shaking. The foam from his mouth dried, and he lay face up, eyes bloodshot red, soiled from head to toe.
Josh leveled Father’s head on his lap. “Someone get a towel.”
Collin, finally coming to, rushed out of the way, only to return moments later with several clean towels. I watched, dismayed by what had taken place.
Josh dabbed his face gently, soaking most of the wetness up from the towel, Father Benedict’s stark complexion began to return with color. “M—”
Josh hushed him. “Not yet. Wait until everything passes.”
Judging by how Josh handled the situation, it seemed to be a recurring event. “Is he okay?”
“Yeah, he’s going to be all right.” Relief washed away my worry, giving me the courage to join them on the floor, helping cradle Father’s head.
“What’s a Seer?” I asked, brushing back some of his gray hair.
“They receive visions of future events. It’s an intuitive power.” Father opened his eyes again, staring at the both of us. “Not all visions are bad. Some, like the one you just witnessed, happen rarely, and unfortunately, it was one of those times.”
Father Benedict’s color had fully returned, the bloodshot appearance barely noticeable. “Hello, Remi.”
Taken aback by his nonchalant response, he waved us away, sitting up, his robes clean and wrinkle-free. “I’m sorry you had to see that. Sometimes they come on without warning.”
“Father, I tried to catch you, but—”
“Collin, it’s okay.” Father smiled, making sure Collin understood he did nothing wrong.
Josh started. “The vision…”
“More like a prophecy.” Father Benedict requested aid to help lift him to his feet. Testing his balance, he shooed us off, fixing the sleeves of his white robe, then he cleared his throat and quoted the prophecy verbatim.
A dying light, forever in the night
He comes, bearing sorrows
The Shephard and the lamb
Lost in the shadows
She who wields, the rest shall follow
“What does it mean?” questioned Josh.
Father moved around the room, time ticking by until he stepped up to the dais. “It’s time we pay a visit to Father Abraham.”