Page 94 of Sleeping Redemption
Finally, Atlas exhaled a loud breath, and his body lost some of the tension it had been harboring as his hands fell away from Kinley.
“There’s a poison in her body, and it’s resisting my healing abilities.” He looked over at us with frustration weighing on him.
“Then, try again, mate!” I exclaimed, matching the energy in the room.
Atlas sighed and leaned over closer to Kinley, his fingers stroking over her cheek that had dirt and mud caked on it. “Angel, you need to help me out. Let me help, please. I know it hurts, and I can make it better, but you have to be willing to accept it.”
Resignation filled her shaky voice as she finally managed to speak her first words since we’d found her. “No glue. No tape. Nothing will fix it.”
“Love, that’s not true.” My voice cracked lightly as I spoke.
Sylas sank into a chair, perching his elbows on his knees. His palms pressed together like he was praying as he pressed his lips against the sides of his fingers. He may not have said anything, but it was clear his thoughts were on full blast inside his head.
“Keep trying, Atlas,” he finally muttered against his hands.
Drawing a deep breath, he nodded and went back to work. It was hours of this throughout the night, with Atlas taking minimal breaks as he pushed himself to give our girl every ounce of comfort for her suffering.
Gradually, her body began to still, and the trembling came to a halt. The gasps and groans of pain became less and less. Even her pallor seemed to improve, or perhaps that was just me looking for any sign of hope.
None of us dared to leave her side, not for a second. Once we were certain she was no longer in agony from whatever horrific toxins had been assaulting her from the inside, we began to slowly work on making her comfortable in other ways.
I was grateful that she wasn’t fighting our efforts to take care of her, but that in and of itself was alarming.
When I swiped the washcloth over her exposed back, the wounds on her back had healed, but the physical scars remained. That wanker’s name stared at me like it was a bloody souvenir of what she had endured. The only name that should be on her holy body was mine.
It took teamwork, but we all managed to get her cleaned up without any fuss and into a fresh set of clothes. The entire time since we had found her in the cemetery, she had only spoken once.
No glue. No tape. Nothing will fix it.
Those words echoed in my soul while I paced back and forth at the foot of the bed. I watched as Kinley stared blankly as she lay there completely still. There were no tears, no words, and hardly any blinks.
I dragged my teeth along the edge of my thumbnail, not giving a fuck if I chipped off the last of the black nail polish on it. Seeing that bastard on top ofourangel earlier had caused every protective instinct in me to angrily lash out. It was an anger that was still ready to roar up to a boil from the simmer where it sat on my back burner.
There was nothing I wanted more than to take this pain away from her, to remind her of the strong and independent celestial being she was. No matter what had transpired, Nicodemus did not have a claim on her and never would. I would personally see to it that he shite on his own balls and ate them before ever laying another finger on her.
Atlas sat on the edge of the bed, affectionately stroking his fingers over the top of her head. He cooed to her, whispering words of support as he tried to lessen her suffering while she seemed to swim in several oceans of mental anguish.
While Atlassian may have been able to physically heal her, it stopped there. The emotional and mental damage was clear from her unresponsiveness. Additionally, we couldn’t even gather what psychological destruction had been inflicted, given her current state. That was the most frightening part of this ordeal.
Had Nico managed to shatter her mind once and for all?
None of us dared to use our intimate touch to try and lure her out of whatever pitch-black part of the universe where her mind had stalled.
She had been back in our care for almost twenty-four hours now, and nothing had changed. It had been pure silence with only the scraps of trauma left behind.
Sy’s hand firmly grabbed my shoulder, stopping me from wearing a hole in the black shag carpet. Instead of giving me an order with some sense of superiority, he just looked at me with a hint of softness in his light blue eyes.
There were no words, just a silent communication that we were all in this together.
Atlas looked over at Sy for guidance. “There has to be more we can do.”
There was a long moment of contemplation from Sy before he looked over at me and spoke. “Rook, can you use your illusions on her again? Make it more…immersive?”
I swallowed hard at what it would take to pull off what he was asking. “Aye,” I said quietly but with reservation.
My eyes looked over at Kinley’s catatonic state on the bed. This wasn’t her; she should have never been forced to suffer like this.
Not bothering to look away from her, I continued. “It comes at the cost of a greater expenditure of my energy to conjure that grand of an illusion, especially for any non-human. To weave my trickery into her mind and blend it seamlessly is not just a simple flick of my wrist, but it can be done.”
