Flame Unleashed (Hell to Pay) (19 page)

“Going where?” she asked. Dumbly, the answer dawned on her.

He cupped her cheek and frowned, those green eyes soulful and sad. “He’s passing away,
chère
. We need to be with him.”

A black wave of fury smashed into her mind. For a moment, Ruth couldn’t speak or move. Then adrenaline kicked in. She jumped out of bed and threw on her clothes.

“Let’s go,” she said.

Odie got to the hospital in record time.

At the entrance to the ICU, they met a fellow Indebted, Javier. The swarthy man held Emma, murmuring to her in an old Spanish dialect while she cooed.

“How are you supposed to fight off All Who Is Evil with that baby in your arms?” Odie asked.

“Gene.”

He pointed with his narrow chin about fifty feet down the hall where a thin, nondescript black man ostensibly read a magazine. At his name, the man looked up with a grin and nodded at Odie and Ruth.

“Fair enough. I take it everyone else is in with Barnaby?”

Javier nodded and bent his head to continue crooning to the baby.

The scent of death in Barnaby’s room hung like heavy, thick cloth blanketing the room. Ruth had smelled it before—a sweaty, exhausted, ammonia tang.

A couple stood on each side of the bed, everyone’s expressions stricken. Dante held Hannah in front of him, his great arms enveloping her tiny frame. Allie had tucked in next to Peter, her head resting on his shoulder. Of course, as a physician, she would understand best what was happening here.

“Has he woken up? Said anything?” Ruth asked the group.

They looked to Allie, who eased away from Peter.

“No, just some muttering a few hours ago. Nothing that we could understand.”

Ruth’s vision faded around the edges as a ringing in her ears squealed louder and louder until the sound pierced her head like a dagger.

Jerahmeel had mortally wounded Barnaby.

Her focus narrowed onto the shriveled figure on the bed. Barnaby. He was as close to a father as she’d had in ages. He loved her unconditionally, never judging who or what she was. Her head ached, and her ears rang.

Through the screaming whistle in her head, she heard Odie speak.

“Is he in any pain?”

“It doesn’t appear that way,” Allie replied. “But I can’t know for certain.”

“How long?” Ruth said.

Allie flicked a glance to the monitor. “Soon, I think, judging by the way his vital signs are fluctuating. I wish you all could talk with him one more time.”

Peter and Dante looked at the floor while Hannah’s sniffle punctuated the silence.

Helpless. Her friend, her mentor. Because of Jerahmeel.

Because of Ruth.

Holy hell, she was going to lose her only tether to the Earth. There would be nothing left.

Something shifted and grew inside of her mind. Like a caged raptor, restless, waiting to be released. Eager.

Terrible. Terrifying. A beast about to burst from confinement.

Her mind shifted, like throwing a vehicle from full throttle drive into reverse.

An idea occurred, right as her world dropped out from under her.

The shrill sound pierced her mind.

“We can talk with him,” Ruth gasped.

Hannah winced and stared at Ruth.

Even the unflappable Dante’s jaw dropped open.

“What?” Ruth asked.

Peter rubbed at his ears. “Ruth, your eyes. Hell, your voice.”

“I don’t understand.”

Allie’s face contorted as she doubled over. Peter held her upright with effort.

Ruth held her hand over her mouth. Somehow she was hurting these people. What in the blazes?

Odie’s voice cut through the high-pitched sound burning its way through her skull.

“
Chére
.” He grasped her by the upper arms and turned her to him.

Her vision blurred, but she clung to his solid form. Anything to regain control over what was happening in her mind.

“What?” she whispered.

Hannah and Allie cringed. Dante wrapped a hand around Hannah’s head and actually growled.

“Your eyes have gone completely black,” Odie said.

“That’s normal. We get emotional.”

At Allie’s moan, Peter tucked her head into his shoulder.

Odie paled. “No, black-black. No whites at all. And when you speak, I hear it in my ears and also in my head. It hurts. How are you doing this?”

“I have no idea,” she said.

Allie put a hand to her ear; Ruth wished she could reduce the mental volume, but had no idea how. She was barely clinging to sanity with all of the emotions banging around in her head. Her friend was dying. All because of Jerahmeel’s sick fascination with Ruth. All because she failed to protect Barnaby. Her fault. The sound had increased to a train whistle. Her ears had to be bleeding by now.

“Turn so the nurses can’t see you,” Allie said between gritted teeth, glancing toward the central nursing station. “Try to control what you’re projecting. Please.”

Ruth swallowed and concentrated harder than she ever had in her life. Odie’s warm hands on her arms grounded her.

With head-splitting effort, she pressed the swirling emotions and pain into a thin line. And she tethered it to her own consciousness.

“Better?” she asked.

Hannah nodded, but wore a confused expression behind her glasses.

“Let me talk to him,” Ruth said.

She actually felt her voice rumbling in her ribcage. Deep. Strange. Amplified.

Allie and Peter stepped aside as Ruth leaned over Barnaby’s inert form. She hadn’t attempted this particular act since those men died at Antietam. Could she still reach into a dying mind? What would it cost her? Would it hurt him?

This experiment would be so much more than the recollection of memories. She wanted to commune with Barnaby one more time. Was such a thing possible?

Sure enough, placing her hands on the sides of his head, she sank into Barnaby’s mind. Thick air surrounded her, making it hard to breathe. He was so tired. His mental curtains were much heavier than with other people, and he had so many layers of them. With sluggish effort, she kept pushing them to the sides until she reached the core of his mind.

All of the other sounds—that shrill scream in her head, the beeps of machines, the whining whoosh of the oxygen—faded into nothingness. Her focused spear propelled her right into the ember of Barnaby that remained.

One last sheer, light curtain, and a weak yellow glow greeted her mental self. She touched it with her mind.

“Hello, my dear.” Barnaby’s essence lapped over her like the gentle ocean waves, easing away her tension, reassuring her. She relaxed, drifting near the yellow glow. Until the undertones of what he was not saying got her attention.

“Oh God, you’re dying.”

“I’ve avoided death for hundreds of years. It’s finally time, my dear.” His hollow, floating voice came from the vicinity of the glowing light.

“What about those of us you leave behind?”

“I will regret not seeing your lovely face every day.”

Her heart squeezed. “What will we do without you?”

“Take care of each other, of course.”

“You’re the only family I have, Barnaby. There’s nothing else in this never-ending hell.”

“That’s where you’re mistaken, my dear.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You have more family than you know.”

“That’s not possible.”

“Ruth, your legacy reaches far beyond your long-lived existence.”

“I don’t understand.”

His quiet voice wavered as the wan yellow light flickered in the depths of his consciousness. “There’s something special about you, your power. Jerahmeel is right to watch you and be very afraid. A similar power runs in your family.”

“Family?”

“You have family in this room right now.”

“Not friends. I mean true family.”

“My dear, you’re standing next to some of your progeny right now.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Reach out your hands to Allie and Hannah.”

Outside of her connected mind, her hands rose of their own volition until she had hold of the two women. Suddenly, they were there, in her mind, watching her interact with Barnaby as they floated behind her shoulder. Hannah’s sprite-like, white energy contrasted with Allie’s soothing golden-brown light. Ruth sensed the other two women could hear her voice and Barnaby’s.

“How is this possible?” she asked.

“Your powers are so much more than you imagined. They’ve lain dormant all these years, buried deep inside, with the rest of you. Did you think you were the only one in your family with these gifts?”

“Allie and Hannah?” She felt the squeezes on her physical hands.

“They are but two of your lineage who share a measure of your gifts.”

“Lineage?”

“Your daughter held the power and passed it along her line. To her however-many great grandchildren.”

The brightness from Allie and Hannah flared. A sense of surprise and warmth glowed behind her.

“How do you know this?” she asked.

“You’re not the only one with gifts, my dear. My power was a sort of amplified intuition. Kept me out of more scrapes than I can count.”

“You’ve never told anyone?”

“And ruin the legend that is Barnaby? No thank you. Best to let everyone presume I was a smart and lucky guesser.” His laugh drifted past her like dust in a wind, thin and fleeting.

“Why didn’t you tell me that you’d figured out my powers?”

“You weren’t ready to hear it.”

True.

Refocusing on his fading yellow glow, she mentally reached for him but grasped air.

“Barnaby?”

“Your legacy was the last thing I wanted you to know. After so many years, I’ve now finished my work. I’m going to leave now, my dear. I’m so tired. It’s finally time to rest.”

The two women withdrew as one from Ruth’s mind, leaving her with only the sense of Barnaby.

“Please. How do I keep them safe?”

The ember pulsed with his mental chuckle. “Ah, I thought you didn’t have anything to bind you to the mortal world.”

“There was no reason to care about anyone else before now.”

“Remember, it’s not even ... about Allie and Hannah. You have other family. It’s time for you to fight for them and for yourself. If anyone could make it through the portals of Hell and destroy Jerahmeel, it’s you and Odie.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“It’s the only way for everyone to be free. Eventually, Jerahmeel will learn of your extended family and come for them. As long as he exists, they are all at risk.”

His mind’s voice had faded to just a whisper. She had to strain to hear him.

“You can do this, my dear. Trust Odie. Use your powers on Jerahmeel. There are risks, but Odie has the right idea.”

“I don’t trust anyone.”

“Maybe it’s time for a change ... go ... protect your family.” His voice was a tiny wisp of sound in her mind now. The golden glow faded to almost nothing. “I love you, my dear. If I could have had a daughter, she couldn’t have been better ... than you.”

The ember went black. Nothing met her but silence so complete it ached in her head. She searched for Barnaby, but the curtains were stiff, immobile. Nothing stirred.

How would she leave his mind? Which direction should she go?

The air in her lungs spilled out as she followed Barnaby into the silent darkness, falling into the deep well of nothingness.

“Ruth? Come back,” Allie’s voice pierced the silence. Distant. Fading, too.

The voice came from behind her. A direction.

Within the blackness of Barnaby’s dead mind, Ruth turned around. Step by exhausting step, she pushed through the sludgy depths toward Allie, squeezed herself back into the real world.

The monitor droned a flat line. Barnaby’s ribs no longer rose and fell.

Oxygen hissed into lifeless lungs.

Hannah sobbed into Dante’s chest. The big man’s eyes shone as he hugged her.

Peter pulled Allie into his arms.

The wry expression on Allie’s face over her husband’s shoulder caught Ruth off-guard. Her great-great-however-many granddaughter? Was it truly possible?

Ruth stepped back on shaky legs and abruptly stopped against Odie’s hard body. He held her up by the upper arms, his warmth and strength flowing through her. “Trust Odie,” Barnaby had said. A more difficult proposition than the old man realized.

Nurses bustled into the room, but Allie waved them off.

“Family?” Ruth tilted her head up and back, enjoying Odie’s scratchy beard on her cheek.

“I tried to tell you this morning, but we were interrupted.” He spoke next to her ear.

Hannah said, “Explains why we got that odd feeling when we saw each other yesterday. And explains the stories of strange family members generations back.” She sniffed and motioned toward Allie. “You have weird people in your family? Cousins?”

“Nope, just me, at least as far as I know, but my folks weren’t close to their extended family. You know, the first time I touched you a month or so ago, Hannah, there was something different, but I thought it was my death visions going haywire with the pregnancy hormones and all.”

Hannah dug an elbow into Dante’s ribs. “See, and I thought it was because I’d recently healed Mr. Indestructible here and my powers were still on the fritz.”

“Well, now what?” Peter said. He kept one arm around Allie as if unwilling to let go.

Odie took a breath to speak. But before he opened his mouth, a visitor joined them.

“
Très triste
, so sad, our friend finally rests peacefully.”

Jerahmeel. Invading the sanctity of Barnaby’s final resting place.

Jerahmeel. The cause of Barnaby’s death.

Rage built again, like an unending train whistle, and folded in on itself until the thick taste of fury filled her mind. The crescendo of sound focused into a spear of pain until it exploded.

“Get out!”

Everyone in the room recoiled as Ruth’s voice split into two parts, the mental portion lancing into each person’s consciousness. Even Jerahmeel startled and stepped back.

After recovering, he studied her as one corner of his lip curled. “That’s a nice trick,
mademoiselle
. You’ll have to show me how you do that. In private. Together.
Très interessant
. Who knew that by inflicting pain on those you love it would create new ... talents? I wonder if hurting others would bring out more of your gifts? Something to explore.”