Page 61 of Wicked Savior
“No, but you gave Fiona one,” he replies with a chuckle. “When she arrived with the supplies, the sentry I posted alerted me. I let Fiona know you were safe, but in hiding. Then we transported everything here.” He runs a finger across my mouth. “I also had a team transport the items from the lab at The Abbey.”
That’s why there is so much stuff here.
“My mother’s cave, actually,” I correct him, still thinking about what I can do with all this at my disposal. “My mother was the one who gave the Druids her blood and started the entire race. There wasn’t an evolution of human powers, as I originally thought.”
I’ve been completely avoiding this conversation, not wanting the realities of the past to intrude on our little bubble, but I’ve been in the Underworld for three days now. If I don’t get started on building the bombs and devising a plan for their delivery, Gabriel could end up unleashing more of those beasts on unsuspecting humans and supernaturals. I doubt he’s learned anything during his little vacation with the monsters.
“Cormal told me what you said at the meeting. If I’d known you invited me, I would have been there,” he admits, raking his hair back from his face. “I’m glad you took the path you did. If the Druids want to save themselves, they will.”
Expelling a sigh of relief, I look over the items Fiona delivered and spot the canisters I specifically requested.
I open my mouth, but he jumps in before I have a chance.
He picks up a beaker filled with a dark substance. “This is my blood. Run whatever tests you want, but promise me, you’ll burn it when you’re done. I don’t want anyone else getting a hold of it and casting a spell or using it for dark magic.”
The trust he’s giving me with his blood tells me more than any words. “I promise. Thank you,” I tell him, putting it in the small refrigerator. “Once I’m done with this lab, you can use it for the school. It has everything you need to get started.” Even as I say the words, a pang of sadness hits me at the thought of leaving him.
I clear my throat. “I think the books and specimens on your shelves would make great additions to the science department. You could ask your people to donate samples of their DNA for further study and match them to the books. Not only would it be helpful for the science department, but history, and medical, too,” I stop, aware I’m babbling now.
He laughs. “Does your brain ever stop?”
“Viridians are hard wired to question everything until we can find solutions to problems. It’s probably why I was so stubborn about the Druids. And why I need to finish what my mother started and end those beasts. Did Cormal tell you about my idea?” I ask, unwilling to avoid the discussion any longer.
“He told me,” Lucifer replies in a hard voice. “It’s ludicrous to think you can destroy all of those beasts with a few bombs. The portal is teeming with them. Every time we open the door, they spill out of there. It’s not a solid plan.”
Insufferable man. “You don’t know the plan,” I retort, anger rising to the surface. “Do you want to hear the details or would you rather I leave you out of it?”
He swings around furiously. “Fine. Let’s hear this grand plan.”
I lift my chin, refusing to let my own anger take over. “Using the five points of a pentagram as our guide, we place five bombs at equal distances from each other inside the portal. This will exponentially increase our chances of covering the outer rim of their little world, which is the widest part.”
I walk over and open a canister to show him the hundreds of smaller canisters inside. “When the bombs detonate, they will not only take out the beasts on the edges, but these smaller bombs will also disburse and eliminate the remaining beasts in the middle.”
He rubs a hand on his chin. “How do you plan on getting the canisters set up?”
“By using my power to push them back from the portal entrance while someone flies in to place the bombs at the designated points,” I tell him, a little unsure about this part.
“What happens if the beasts knock them over? Or the flyer drops one into the herd?” he retorts.
“These are capable of holding nuclear material. They’re pretty indestructible. Plus, the beasts don’t have magic to pry them open,” I state firmly, more confident about the method of delivery than any other part of the plan.
“The beasts are fast. One flying person, even one as fast as me, wouldn’t be enough. You need to think of a different plan,” he informs me, arms crossed over his chest.
I shake my head in agreement. “Maybe. Also, I originally thought you might be able to help, but I can’t ask you now. These people… this world needs you. If you were gone, they could end up with someone like the Devil.” I shudder. “I’ll take what you said into account about needing more than one flyer to deliver the bombs and figure out an alternative plan.”
“You’re not doing this,” he snarls.
“I am,” I state firmly. “It can’t wait any longer. You saw it yourself. They’re replicating at an astonishing rate. How long do you think we have until they can no longer be contained? Or what happens if Gabriel loses his mind and releases them all? He doesn’t care about anyone.”
“Fuck!” he roars, sweeping an arm across the top of the nearest counter. Beakers and pipettes smash on the floor below. His eyes flash from blue to red and horns appear on his head.
My eyes widen. and he whips a hand up and runs it across his hair, his eyes closing when he finds the horns.
Something guttural comes out of his mouth and he disappears, leaving me to clean up the mess he made.
Unable to help myself, I sweep another beaker to the floor in anger. I wait for the satisfaction to wash over me, but all I feel is guilt. With a wave of my hand, I fix all the beakers and place them on the counter. There. I dust my hands together. That feels better.
I roll up my sleeves and turn to the only constant in my life. Work. Good thing there’s a lot to do.
