Page 31 of Give a Devil his Due
A bright light blinds me momentarily when we turn the bend in the tunnel. Advertisements flicker on the left wall, changing too fast to be properly seen. The train’s horn shrieks again, bursting my ear drums, and I flinch, a muscle pinching in my neck. As soon as we enter the wide space, Satanael throws himself at the tiled floor of the terminal. I spring forward, latching onto the spot I saw Helena last and swinging my body to the side of the train right over the broken window. A weight hits me in the gut, and my fingers slip from the flimsy grip I have on the metal.
My eyes lock on Helena before I’m yanked back at the open station like someone is pulling a string attached to me.
Her wide green irises are burned into my retinas when my back slams on the tiled floor, and the air is pushed from my lungs.
The train zooms by, leaving just the shrill sound of the horn behind before I can clear my head.
Helena
Afresh torrent of tears roll down my face when I see Raphael bloody and barely clinging to life. It takes me a long moment to collect myself because of all the emotions choking me, and once I do, I’m finally able to move.
“Raphael.” My broken whisper has him struggling to lift himself.
“Hel.” Rasping my name, his arm jolts and slips over the blood-covered floor.
On hands and knees, I scramble toward him and help lift him until he is propped on the side of the seats. Cuts and bruises pepper his skin, turning it unrecognizable, so I lean my forehead on his shoulder as gently as I can and cry. Deep ugly sobs are wrenched from my chest.
“Why”—A wet cough shakes his whole body—“are you … here?”
“The same reason you are.” Me wailing like a child is not going to help keep him alive. I pull back, wiping my tears with the back of my hand. “What do I do, Raphael?”
I think he is trying to laugh at me, but I can’t be sure because blood is spraying from his lips and dribbling down his chin. Panic is doing its best to strangle me, but I refuse to let it. I can freak the hell out later, maybe even kick the Archangel in his pearly whites, but I have to keep him alive so I can do that.
“Smart thinking to break the window.” Maybe if I stroke his ego, he will work with me instead of against me, right? I mean all these males are as arrogant as they come.
“Not on purpose.” Another chuckle, and he is coughing until his chest rattles with a wet sound.
“Easy there, Archangel.” Shuffling closer on my knees, I drag his upper body to my chest and wrap my arms around him. “I think I told you once or twice that you are not allowed to die on my watch. Unless I kill you, of course.” My attempt at humor works.
“How can I forget?” I don’t like the defeated sigh that comes from him.
“Listen, I need you to tell me how to heal you, okay?” With a shaking hand, I push away some of the strands that are stuck to his face. “Just enough for you to help me lift you and push you out the window.” That was the wrong choice of words because his body jerks in my hold, spasming. “It’s me, Raphael; it’s Helena.” Reassurances rush through my lips, but they all jumble together when he tries to drag himself away from me.
How did I forget that the jinn tricked him once already by wearing my face? And here I am after he nearly died telling him I want to push him out a window. I’m so dumb sometimes. No wonder Eric thinks he has to hover around me in case I do something stupid and kill myself in the process. Jumping on a moving train and through a broken window at who knows how many miles per hour notwithstanding.
“No.” Raphael pushes at my arms weakly.
“Please, Raphael. It’s me, I swear it. What I was trying to say is, the train is not going to stop. We need to get out of here stat before it reaches the end of the rail line and both of us die here.” Burying my face in his hair, I choke out, “Please tell me how to heal you.”
At least he is not fighting me anymore.
“You need your strength.” Barely above a whisper, I almost miss what he says.
“We can rest for a whileafterI get us out of here.” A long second passes, and when he doesn’t reply, I shake him. “No sleeping, stay with me, or I’ll enjoy slapping your face.”
“Go.”
“Like hell I’m going to go anywhere without you.” Since there will be no help from him, I will have to drag his ass to the window and through the damn thing, too.
Leaning him forward takes more effort than I like to admit, but I manage to almost fold him in half so I can stand. Holding onto his shoulders, I rubberneck to see where we are, thankful when only blurry walls of the tunnel show through the glass. The Archangel groans, the sound so full of pain my heart hurts for him.
“Here goes nothing.” Clenching my teeth, I curl my forearms under his armpits and pull.
He slides a quarter of an inch before my boot slips on the blood, and I land on my ass. Actually, on my tail, to be precise. Stars burst in front of my eyes.
Cursing up a storm and using enough colorful words to make a sailor blush, I yank, huff, and puff with very little to show for it. Why is he so freaking heavy? Is he sagging limply on purpose to force me to leave him behind and run? Knowing the martyr Raphael thinks himself to be, I almost believe that that’s what he is doing.
“Raphael, hear me good right now.” Each word is pushed through clenched teeth. “I’m dragging your ass off this train if it’s the last thing I do. With or without your help. If you don’t do everything you can to make it easier for me, however, you’ll regret it when I do get us out of this death trap.” Sucking in a much-needed breath, I finish with a firm, “Am I clear?”
