Empower (33 page)

‘Were you hurt?’ I asked.

He glanced at me briefly, then away.

‘What’s wrong?’ I
asked, swaying a little as I adjusted my weight to the leg that hurt the least.

His eyes shot to me then, overflowing with so much emotion that some of it spilled into me so hard I staggered back a step.

I gasped.

Fear. Conflict. Concern. Desperation. Longing … Love.

He shook his head as if he knew I could sense it all. ‘You’re bleeding and broken, Violet, and I stood by and let it happen. I’m trying here, but … Jesus, let’s just get you back so I can …’ He closed his eyes and drew a deep, shuddering breath before opening them again, resigned. ‘So you can fix yourself.’

I nodded and let him put my good arm around his neck as we jogged towards the safe house. I tried, unsuccessfully, to ignore the pain. But it was starting to become abundantly clear that the real pain was not about to go away. Not unless I was willing to do something about it.

Sneaking the odd glance at Lincoln while he helped support my weight, I didn’t know what to make of the night. He’d only been back in my life for a handful of days and already I was starting to question everything.

I’d left for a reason.

A good reason.

I’d consoled myself day and night that my motives had been valid. If I’d stayed behind I honestly believed that he would have died, but something … He was different. Changed in a way that can only occur through time and contemplation.

I paused as we reached the gates to the safe house.

‘Are you okay?’ Lincoln asked, worry creasing his forehead.

I nodded, but really,
I wasn’t okay.

Not even close.

Because I realised one other thing.

‘I’ve changed too,’ I admitted to myself, not noticing I’d said the words aloud until Lincoln’s hand brushed the hair back from my bloodied face.

He tilted my chin until my eyes met his.

Beautifully green, even in the dark.

‘Some things never change, Vi,’ he said, his voice husky, his fingers lingering on my face.

I was faintly aware of the blood dripping from my fingers as my arm hung limp at my side. I also vaguely noticed that lights had come on, flooding the area around us, and that voices were nearing. But only one thing held my focus. Kept me grounded.

I stared into Lincoln’s eyes and I knew he was the only one who would ever truly see me.

Suddenly, he broke eye contact and everything else came rushing towards me. The light, the people, the noise.

‘What the hell have you done now?’ Phoenix hissed, pushing others aside until he was in front of me.

I hobbled around to face him. ‘I’m fine.’

But of course, he didn’t bother listening to me and had already turned on Lincoln, shoving him in the chest. ‘You’re supposed to protect her! Not bring her back in pieces!’

Lincoln stepped into Phoenix’s space, still managing to keep a supportive arm around me. ‘She’s already in pieces!’ he growled, his nose almost touching Phoenix’s. ‘And we’re the ones who did it to her. Or have you forgotten that part?’

Phoenix’s jaw clenched
at Lincoln’s words, but his eyes flashed to mine just long enough for me to glimpse his pain and guilt.

‘Phoenix, I’m okay,’ I said with a sigh.

‘What happened?’ Gray asked, moving forward and serving stern looks to Lincoln and Phoenix, which they both ignored.

‘Exiles,’ Lincoln answered, still glaring at Phoenix. ‘Ten of them.’

Gray snorted. ‘That all,’ he said, pulling me away from Lincoln, who let my arm slide from his as they walked me up the stairs.

‘You want me to carry you?’ Gray asked.

I saw Lincoln, at my side, shake his head to himself with an almost smile as I shot Gray a furious look. Phoenix stood by the doorway, also smirking. Gray raised his free hand in surrender. ‘It was just an offer,’ he mumbled.

I’m no victim. If my legs work
, they
carry me.

Steph was suddenly on the other side of me, nudging an increasingly frustrated Lincoln out of her way. I blinked. ‘When did you get here?’ I asked, worried that she’d been in this city alone.

‘They helicoptered me in about twenty minutes ago. Is that a
bullet
wound?’

‘Yep,’ I said.

Steph shook her head and tried to keep her expression calm. She knew me. Knew I hated the fuss or looking weak. Lincoln was right: some things never do change.

‘Well, Griffin will be appalled,’ she said.

I smiled, remembering how
Griffin felt about the fighting code. ‘Speaking of?’

They moved me through the front door and towards the bedroom I was sharing with Zoe.

‘He’s fine. He’s on his way to New York and he’ll be heading this way once he’s checked in on Nyla.’

‘I’m glad he’s on his way there. He should stay with her.’

Steph rolled her eyes. ‘Do you really expect him to leave the fight to everyone else?’

Enough said.

Gray helped me ease myself down onto the edge of the bed. I looked up at everyone hovering around me, including half a dozen overgrown male Grigori crowding the small room. I was surprised to note that Carter had pushed his way into the throng.

How have I managed to go from having no one to rooms packed with bodies in just a few days?

My shoulder was burning alive but I settled a bored expression on them.

‘I appreciate everyone’s concern, but I’m fine. I’ll be good as gold when you all give me a little privacy and I can have a soak in the bath.’

Gray and Carter nodded, grabbing Ray on their way and pulling him out of the room.

Lincoln remained with Phoenix hovering by the doorway, somehow managing to ignore one another. I sighed and looked at my watch. It was ten p.m.

‘Lincoln, I’ll help her. I’ll call you if we need you,’ Steph said gently.

Best. Friend. Ever.

His eyes cut to hers,
as hard as steel but then softened and he nodded. ‘I’ll be in my room going over plans for tomorrow. We’ll move out for recon at first light.’

I nodded and he headed out the door, looking back briefly. ‘You know where I am if you need me.’

I heard him walk down the hall and a door close.

‘Phoenix, you too,’ I said. ‘I’m fine. I just need to get cleaned up.’

He studied my face for lies.

I sighed. ‘Please. And promise me you won’t leave the safe house tonight.’

He tilted his head. ‘I’ll stay here tonight. We need to talk about Sammael.’

I kicked off my boots. ‘We’ll talk as soon as I’m healed.’ ‘That might take a while,’ he said before disappearing down the hall.

Whatever.

I slumped back onto my bed and Steph closed the door, giving us some privacy.

‘Okay, what gives?’ she asked, hands on hips.

I closed my eyes, trying to breathe successfully. ‘We were attacked. Everything was fine and I was down to the last one when he pulled a gun. I was on the ground and I thought Lincoln was going to throw himself in front of me,’ I explained.

‘Totally understandable Lincoln behaviour,’ Steph agreed.

I nodded. ‘Right. But then, I asked him to trust me and he … he stood back and let me fight. I could’ve died.’

We were both silent. She knew what I was saying, what a huge thing it was.

‘He loves you,
Vi,’ Steph said eventually, her own voice thick with emotion.

She was a romantic. I knew better. ‘It doesn’t mean everything will be okay, Steph. Too much has happened.’

She plonked down on the mattress beside me, taking little care to avoid my injuries even when I winced. She put a hand on my knee.

‘You’re scared. I get it. You’ve been through
so
much. No one will ever understand what you’ve been forced to face and sacrifice. But in spite of the fact you’ve spent the past two years running from him … He. Loves. You. And, honey, that’s not his curse like you make it seem. It’s his existence. His
choice
. And
he’s
entitled to it.’ She squeezed my knee. ‘At some point you’re going to have to let yourself live and take the chances that everyone else does. And that’s not because you’re Grigori, Vi, that’s because you’re human.’

She blew out a breath and flung her hands in the air before letting them flop back down. ‘Everything is so huge with you. Big moments. Life-threatening sacrifices. World-changing triumphs. But love isn’t like that. Love is all the small moments. It’s what fills the quiet.’ She sat up suddenly, looking down at me. ‘Do yourself a favour and just sit in the quiet for a while, and hear what fills it.’

She stood up and walked to the door. She looked at me and smiled. ‘And then do us all a favour and listen, because Lincoln isn’t the only one who misses you.’

She closed the door behind her. Desperate to concentrate on something else, I quickly refocused on healing my bullet wound, but I only made it far enough to just close the wound. It would need a lot more attention, along with my hand and the rest of me, later, but Steph’s words had hit hard, and, driven by some crazy compulsion, I was suddenly shoving my feet back in my boots and slipping down the stairs. I was grateful yet again that my defensive shields helped keep me beneath Phoenix’s and Lincoln’s radars. Getting caught sneaking out would not go down well, but I needed this.

I grabbed an overcoat
hanging by the door to cover the blood more than keep me warm and snuck back out onto the street.

Walking aimlessly, I eventually hit the riverbank and slumped onto a deserted bench overlooking the dark Mississippi. It was surprisingly quiet, and though I could see lights on the other side of the river and hear the far-off sounds of night-time shenanigans, I was alone save the odd passer-by.

I pulled out my phone and dialled, unsure if the call would connect.

Evelyn answered on the third ring.

‘Violet?’ she said, not because she saw my caller ID but because I was the only person who had that number. Already, I could hear her instinctive concern.

‘It’s okay,’ I assured her. ‘I’m okay. I just … Spence got himself into a bit of trouble and I’m trying to get him out of it,’ I explained, leaving out all the added extras that would only worry her and Dad.

‘Where are you?’

I grimaced. ‘New Orleans.’

Silence met me at the other end and I could picture her lips pressed tightly together as she processed all the possibilities. Finally, she sighed.

‘How bad?’ she
asked, though her tone said she already had a good idea.

I swallowed. ‘Lincoln’s here,’ I said, avoiding her question and answering it at the same time.

‘Oh. How are you holding up?’

I took a deep breath. ‘Mum, why was one of your conditions when you agreed to let me become Grigori that my partner be from the Power rank?’ She’d had two conditions, and though I knew why she’d asked to be tied to Lilith’s life force, I’d never known why this other condition had been so important.

Mum sighed. ‘I’ve been wondering when you would finally ask that. Are you sure you want to hear the answer? Now? Maybe you should ask me again when you get yourself out of whatever you’ve landed yourself into there, first.’

‘Tell me.’

After a pause, I heard a screeching noise and could tell she was dragging a chair towards her. She took a deep breath. ‘I chose that rank because I knew that Powers are loyal to a fault. They’re self-sacrificing, and as a result, of all the angelic ranks, Powers are the least likely to exile. More than anything, they are territorial and the strongest of fighters. Their inclination to protect is ingrained in them, and I knew that it would be an asset in your partner.’

My heart clenched, absorbing her words as yet another piece fell into place. ‘You knew he’d die for me.’

‘Yes. I did.’

I took a few moments to take it all in, Mum allowing me the time. Finally, I sighed. ‘Do you know of an exile called Sammael?’ I asked.

‘He’s an exile
of light. Very powerful. He had ties with Lilith and we were aware of him, but … I’m sorry Violet, my memory …’ She trailed off and I could sense her frustration. She hadn’t known she would pay this price to become wholly human again, that her memory of her Grigori years would be so greatly reduced. But even so, we both knew she made the right decision.

‘It’s okay, Mum. I just thought I’d ask.’

‘I know this much, Violet – I can feel it so deeply and truly that it goes beyond any memories that might have been taken: you do
not
want to go up against him alone.’

‘I’m not alone,’ I replied, my voice tight.

‘I’m sure you’re not. But are
you
sure?’

I said goodbye, promising I’d call again soon, and tilted my head back, closing my eyes. Breathing in and out slowly, I listened to the rhythm. To myself.

When I felt the urge, for once I didn’t fight it. I lowered my shields a touch, letting the emotion I worked so hard to keep at bay slither into me.

God, it hurts so much!

I wanted to stop and yet, I wanted to let go too.

Concentrating on my breathing, I kept going until I found a kind of medium that I could manage. And then, again, I listened.

Almost immediately, I smelled it.

Strange, the things that mean the most.

I didn’t need to open my eyes to know it wasn’t a New Orleans smell. No.

It smells like ho —

It was the smell of Lincoln’s warehouse. Basil. And the sounds … Cooking. Glasses clinking. A coffee machine steaming.

I could feel myself smiling
all the way to my core. I remembered every little detail about the many days I’d sat at his kitchen bar and watched him cook. The way he’d prepared fresh meals for me and insisted I eat more than two-minute noodles. But also that he’d always kept a packet of my favourite chocolate biscuits in the cupboard even though he never ate them.

The memories fell like a landslide. Running every day. Feeling strong. Needing his friendship. Trusting him. The late-night talks. Dreaming of more. The confidence being around him gave me. The hand-holding. The smiles. The honesty.

And I remembered the feelings of betrayal when I found out what I was and that he’d always known. I’d been so tough on him. I was young. I knew that now. If I could go back and do things differently, tell him I understood and not hurt him, I would.