Page 34 of The Rowan
21
DAIRE
I’m arguing with Solange on the phone when Callyx stumbles into The Abbey with Arden in his arms, blood pouring from both of them. Fuck. I shout for Theron as I end the call, then take Arden from Callyx. He slides to the floor when Theron appears.
“What happened?” Theron strides over to check on Arden.
Callyx wearily answers, “Assassins.”
Theron checks Arden’s wounds. “She’s unconscious, and probably entering a healing stasis. The wounds are pretty bad, but let’s see if she can heal herself first.”
I pull her closer to me. “I’m going to take her upstairs. Can you grab him?” I sneer at Callyx, pissed he didn’t protect her. He’s one of Lucifer’s best? I may need to check and make sure dear old Dad hasn’t gone senile.
Theron easily picks up Callyx and throws him over his shoulder. Callyx grunts, and Theron smirks. Humph, guess he feels the same way I do.
Cradling Arden, I summon the elevator and wait for them to join us. The elevator closes and, with my command, takes us to Arden’s room. I lay her gently on the bed. My incisors lengthen as they take in the amount of blood seeping from her wounds, and I breathe deeply. “Theron.”
He sets Callyx down on the couch and walks over to the bed, where he waves his hand to clean the blood from Arden, but it keeps flowing. Cloths appear over her wounds, then he takes my hands and places them on top of the cloths. “Until her wounds heal, hold these cloths over them.”
Not wanting to give in to temptation, I jerk my hands away and step back. “I can’t.”
“You can and you will,” he demands. “She needs you. I need to find Astor so he can check them for any spells.”
Swallowing, I exhale and step forward. Placing my hands on her sides, I put pressure on the cloths to stop the bleeding, then I tell him, “Be quick.”
Theron doesn’t reply as he walks out the door.
Avoiding her wounds, I stare down at her face. A bruise is darkening on her cheek, and rage fills me. Why is someone sending assassins after her? When we find out, they better hope heaven helps them, because the Underworld is my domain, my playground, and it’s a brutal, unforgiving place.
It looks like one of her side wounds has stopped bleeding. I lift the cloth to check, but a whiff of her blood has me putting it back. A slight tremor makes my hand shake, and I lift it in wonder. It’s been a long time since I strained my control this much.
Arden shifts, and I reach up to push her shoulders back down on the bed. My hand strays to her cheek, softly skimming the bruise. She moans, and I freeze. It must hurt her. With a featherlight touch, I trace her cheek. She’s so beautiful, but more than that, she’s a warrior. Admiration for her courage spills out of me.
My hand, hovering over her cheek, begins to glow. Startled, I hold it there, watching as the bruise slowly recedes, then disappears. Tears fill my eyes. I’m healing her. I haven’t healed anyone in over a thousand years. When the darkness took over, I thought the power had fled permanently.
Arden moans and opens her eyes. Her hazel eyes stare up at me with gratitude. “Thank you. Never step in front of a troll’s fist,” she advises and laughs.
Anger surfaces, but I push it down. “He better be dead,” I tell her.
“Missing his head, in fact,” she replies. Shifting in the bed, she groans. “I don’t suppose you could help my wounds heal faster?”
“I can try.” With both hands, I hover them above the wounds on her sides. Glowing, they knit the punctured skin closed. “What happened here?”
“Shifter. Wolf. He got the back of my calf, too. Although, I think it’s healed,” she says, flexing her leg.
With a glance, I see smooth skin on the back of her leg. “It’s healed,” I confirm.
Arden stares at me speculatively. “I didn’t know you could heal. Your dad never told me. I assume the power comes from your mother? She was a witch and a healer, right?”
“Yes. I could heal small animals as a child, but the power left me right before Danica…died.” My voice is tight as I finish that statement. I never speak about my sister. Although I saved her, she was never the same afterwards. “Being unable to heal seemed a fitting punishment for not saving her.”
“Your father told me you saved her from the demon gang who kidnapped her,” she replies with a frown. “Is that not correct?”
“I killed them all and brought her home. But she was never the same. For a year, she wouldn’t leave her room. She alternated between terror and rage, unable to cope with the things they did to her. Her body was whole, but her mind was broken. She would scream for me to heal her. Even if she weren’t already healed, I couldn’t have done anything more. The power deserted me after I killed her kidnappers. She didn’t believe me, thought I was punishing her for flirting with a demon.” I remember every day as if it was yesterday. Anguish fills me, and I feel as helpless now as I did back then. “She was afraid they would come back for her. Afraid I was lying about their deaths. She would rage at me for hours. After all, I was part demon. I probably covered it up to appease my father. I assured her over and over they were dead, but she didn’t believe me. Nothing I did or said worked. I visited her regularly, trying to get her to forgive me. The day before my last visit, she walked out of her room and into the lake. Her body floated up the day I arrived.” I stare down at my glowing hands, then snuff out the power. I can’t bear to think about Danica or that period in my life.
Arden reaches out and grabs both of my hands in a tight grip. Her voice is fierce as she tells me, “Your sister wasn’t herself, you must know that. Lucifer says she worshipped you. Do you think she would want you to remember her ending or her beginning? Lucifer spoke about her often. He said she was filled with light and love. Is that true?”
I smile in remembrance. “She giggled all the time. And she was so good, so pure. All light and love, like my mother. Her joy was infectious, making me laugh all the time.”
