“But I have called twice now. And twice he has refused me.”
“That wasn’t a deal,” Callum spat. “It was a curse!”
“We can work this—” I began, but he held up his hand to say, “No. There is no working anything out. That wasn’t the deal.”
I began to struggle against the invisible binds that held me. To try and break free. To be a participant instead of a victim.
There was no escape.
“Run, Callum. Run,” I told him, pleading with him to go.
He shook his head. “I’m not leaving you here.”
I didn’t have time to argue because the demons pounced. They jumped him from all sides. He did his best to fight them off, but there were three of them and only one of him—and he wasn’t able to shift, the one thing that would save his life.
I had to watch, in horror, as he was overcome by the demons, pushed to the ground, and I could see nothing but a pile of bodies and hear the sickening thud of flesh.
After a few moments a scarlet trail of blood began to run. It slid from beneath the pile of bodies and crept toward me, telling me everything I needed to know.
The demons stood, looking satisfied and vile. The man stuffed the amulet in his pocket and turned to walk away, calling after the creatures who did his dirty work. When they were almost out of sight, the binds that held me released and I was dropped onto the ground like a sack of flour. I scrambled on all fours toward Callum, who lay in the grass unmoving and bent at odd angles.
“Callum!” I cried, reaching him, grabbing his face and turning his head in my direction. He was covered in blood and it was impossible to tell what injuries were the worst. I didn’t bother to try to decide.
Instead, I raised my hands above his body, palms down, and reached inside me, calling on one of the powers that hadn’t been stripped away. I healed him for hours, stopping only when I collapsed. I poured out every last shred of effort I had, letting it flow over and around him.
I woke in the dark, lying across his chest, sticky with his blood. “Callum?” I said softly, leaning over him, waiting to see the fluttering of his eyes.
His eyes didn’t move. His skin was cold and his lips were blue.
I learned another hard lesson that night in the woods.
You cannot heal those who are already dead.
And so I buried him. It took me a full day to dig a hole big enough to fit him. I positioned it near the stream, but beneath the trees. I planted some wildflowers over the freshly turned earth and I mourned. I grieved so long that I began to use that grief to build a wall around myself so I would never know pain like this again.
I had lost everything.
The only thing I had left was my never-fading love for God (yes, even now) and my existence.
I understood the feeling of weakness that had driven Callum to make the deal in order to save me because I now felt it too. I’d been too weak to save him. I had to stand by and watch as someone stole his life.
And like Callum, I wanted to find the strength to save him. But it was too late. But those who took away his life still roamed this world. There was, no doubt, evil lurking in the shadows right this very minute, waiting to pounce on some innocent somewhere.
Yes, I wanted strength. But unlike Callum, I wasn’t going to bargain for it. I was going to earn it. I was going to train, I was going to learn, and I was going to hunt down Sinead and force him to teach me the Guardian ways.
I might be forced to walk this earth alone forever, but I was damn sure gonna kick some ass in the meantime.
Present Day
I didn’t like when the season’s changed. I used to. Years ago when I first fell, the rotating weather was exciting. Each time Mother Nature gave birth to a new season, it brought with it something beautiful, from joyful flowers pushing through the earth to trees becoming a kaleidoscope of colors or snow blanketing the world in white. I still thought the changing seasons were beautiful, but they were also inconvenient. Like right now.
I was sitting on the roof’s ledge, ignoring the way the chill in the wind made my muscles tense and my fingertips sting. Never before had I stayed this long in one place. The longest I ever remained anywhere was ten days, and it had been warm there. Usually, at the first sign of cold weather, I would leave, simply go where the air was warm and the sky stayed blue. It certainly made sleeping outside much more comfortable. But here I was, sitting on this rooftop, looking out over trees that would soon be bare and likely covered with snow. Sleeping in a tree without the concealment and protection of the leaves wasn’t ideal, but it also wasn’t impossible. I’d done it before. But, sleeping in a bare tree that was also covered in snow? Not going to happen. I shivered just thinking about it.
For a moment I let myself think about heaven and how warm it always was. There was never a time when you didn’t feel wrapped in comfort and warmth. After all these years, I still remembered the way it felt to be there. I didn’t think I would ever forget. Heaven was a place that was sacred. I’d been created there. It was part of me—a part I liked to keep buried deep within me. It wasn’t because I was ashamed. Ashamed that I fell, that I betrayed who I was supposed to be. No, it was because it was private. Heaven was a place that only those who lived there could understand just how wholly wonderful it really was. It was a reward, a reward for a life well lived, for those who truly believed in its existence.
I missed it there.
It was a thought I very seldom allowed myself. But I guess sitting here in the dark with the air nipping at my cheeks, I was having a moment of weakness. Yes, definitely that, because I also shouldn’t be here at all. I should be out looking for someone to help, for some good that needed done.
I certainly shouldn’t be sitting on the roof that belonged to the man I was supposed to be letting go.
I stood, rubbing my hands together, and peered down into the yard below, ready to jump. But the sound of a window opening to my right stopped me. I glanced over and something in my chest squeezed when Cole stuck his head out of the dark space.
“Gemma? What are you doing out there?”
I didn’t say anything. I was afraid to. I was afraid if I opened my mouth, then all the feelings that were swimming around inside me would escape and once the truth was out, it would change everything.
“Come in here,” he said, ignoring my silence and pushing the window up a little wider, stepping back to make room for me.
I glanced back down into the yard. I should go. I was just going to. Before I saw him.
I looked back at the window, where I could make out his waiting shape in the shadows. I don’t know why he was standing in the dark, and I didn’t bother to ask him. Instead, I made my way along the roof line, until his window was directly below me. It wasn’t hard to hang from the roof’s edge by my hands and swing myself inside. I’d done it more times than I probably should have.