Faithless Angel (36 page)

“A home …” He echoed her words, wonder in his voice. “A real home.” The words were so soft they might have been her imagination. But then he leaned down. The gun clunked against the concrete.

“Yes,” she said, her pulse leaping. She reached forward and held out her hand. “Now step down off the ledge. Take my hand and step down.”

He stared at her, indecision in his eyes. Then it was like seeing an eraser wipe the trouble from his gaze. His features smoothed and he actually smiled.

And Faith’s heart stopped beating altogether. Because she knew that smile—so warm and soft and familiar. His eyes sparkled, so rich and
brown
—She blinked. The color brightened into an undeniable blue and she shook her head to clear it.

This wasn’t Jane. This was Daniel.

Nobody’s savior
.

This time she was. This time.

He leaned forward, his fingers brushing hers, and
Faith’s heart thudded a victorious rhythm. Her fingers twitched, then closed, but it wasn’t Daniel’s hand she held. She held nothing.

She stared at her empty palm, which still tingled from his brief touch; then her gaze jerked up to capture his.

“Home,” he whispered a heartbeat before he turned and stepped off into thin air.

“Nooooooooooo!” She lunged forward, grabbing for him, but it was too late.

“Faith.” Jesse’s arms closed around her, pulling her down off the ledge where she now stood. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

But it was too late for sorry. Too late.

Daniel was—

“He’s still alive!” Jesse said, staring down. “I saw him move.”

Faith took off running then, Jesse on her heels. She flew down the stairs, out front to where the paramedics were looming over Daniel’s body.

“I don’t understand,” a fireman was saying. “The tarp was right below him. He shoulda hit smack-dab in the middle.”

But he’d missed it by a precious few inches, his body broken and bleeding on the pavement.

“The pulse is jumpy, but it’s there,” a paramedic said excitedly. “Let’s get him loaded up. Radio Ben Taub that we’ve got a critical one.”

“I need to go with him,” Faith said, her gaze fixed on Daniel’s bruised and bloodied face, as if, if she stared hard enough, she could will his eyes open.

“I’ll take you.” Jesse stood behind her, his hands on her shoulders, so warm and comforting. But she felt neither. She felt cold and isolated. Desperate.

“I want to ride with him,” she said. “Please.”

The paramedics nodded and motioned Faith inside once they had Daniel loaded.

“I’ll be right behind you,” Jesse promised, and Faith nodded at him, her gaze meeting his for the two seconds before the doors swung shut.

You did all you could
, the reassurance echoed through her head, Jesse’s gaze drilling into hers.
You tried. That’s all anyone can ask of themselves
.

She nodded and a tingle of warmth rippled through her, thawing the ice that had settled into her bones. She took her seat near Daniel, careful to stay out of the way of the three paramedics who rushed here and there, turning on machines, hooking up IVs, each of them desperate to sustain this boy’s life for those few precious minutes to the hospital.

And afterward?

She tried to focus on what Jesse had said.
You did all you could. You tried. That’s all anyone can ask
….

But his deep voice still couldn’t keep the memories at bay, or soften the dreaded truth that Faith Jansen had failed again.

I’m sorry, Ms. Jansen
.

Massive trauma
.

We did all we could
.

Faith reached for Daniel’s bloody hand, closed her eyes, and did the only thing she could. She prayed.

Please!
Faith’s soft voice whispered in Jesse’s head, and tears burned his eyes, blurring the fast-disappearing ambulance.

He turned and climbed onto his motorcycle. He needed to get to the hospital. To be with her, talk her through this—

But that wasn’t the reason Jesse followed the racing ambulance. He knew there was nothing he could
say to ease her grief or restore her hope. His dream of a life here with her had been just that. A dream.

He’d wanted to be all things to her—the answer to every problem, the hope that opened her eyes in the morning, the strength that lulled her to sleep every night—and he could be, but not in this life.

His comforting words and embraces couldn’t help her now, but his actions could. One final action that would separate them forever.

One miracle.

And as much as that scared him, it drove him on, her image, her sadness so heavy inside him that he felt it as his own. It
was
his own, because he loved Faith Jansen with all his heart, the emotion stronger than any he’d ever known.

Nobody’s savior
. She’d been wrong on that count. She was everybody’s savior, especially his. And he was hers.

And his time here was finished.

“He’s dying.” Faith’s heartbreaking voice filled Jesse’s ears as she stood at Daniel’s bedside and held his hand. “Th-they said he has massive internal injuries….” The words trailed off into a strangled sob that reached inside Jesse and chipped away at his heart.

He came up beside her and slid his arms around her waist, pulling her close. She seemed so cold, so alone as he cradled her, stroked her hair, and what was left of his heart crumbled.

It made what he had to do all the harder.

And also that much easier.

After a long, heartbreaking moment, he pulled away from her and turned his attention to Daniel. The boy lay unconscious, the steady
whoosh
of air from a respirator lifting his small chest in a labored, artificial rhythm.

“Daniel,” he whispered, taking the boy’s hand.
There was no response; not that he’d expected any. Daniel would be dead soon by all accounts. Comatose, the doctor had said. Brain-dead. The machines were keeping his body alive, but there was little hope.

He closed his eyes and concentrated on the fire burning deep inside him, the blessed soul-saving light he’d carried back with him from the other side. It burned hotter, brighter, like a growing tidal wave that finally broke, washing through him, surging through his fingertips into the near-lifeless teenage boy.

Then it was done.

Jesse opened his eyes to see Daniel’s chest rise with the pump of the respirator. His eyes remained closed, his body limp, but there was life in him now. Jesse could hear the steady beat of Daniel’s heart echoed in the pulsing red lights of a heart monitor. He could feel the steady thump in his own chest, just as he felt the anguish gripping Faith, the tightening around her heart, the coldness seeping through her. Her hope was dying. As she watched Daniel waste away, she was doing the same. Dying herself. Inside.

Not for long, he told himself. Not for long.

“It’ll be all right.” He drew her into his arms, soaking up the soft, warm feel of her, the fresh scent of roses and rainwater that made his eyes burn and his chest ache.

After a few precious seconds, he forced himself away. His fingertips touched her chin and urged her gaze to his. “Don’t lose hope, Faith. I know it’s tough, but hang in there.”

Her lips trembled in answer. Her eyes glittered, mirroring the unshed tears stinging Jesse’s own eyes.

Tears, of all things, from a man who’d never cried for anyone or anything. Not when his father had left, or his mother had died. Not even when he’d lain crumpled on the floor next to his brother and sister, dying. The tears had been there, burning the backs of his lids, threatening to overwhelm him, but then he’d closed his eyes, and … death. Then it had been too late to shed even one.

He shut his eyes now, felt a drop of moisture squeeze past his lashes to blaze a trail down his cheek, and he relished the sensation. This was life. His last sweet taste.

Faith’s hand cupped his jaw, catching the drop, as if it were the most natural thing in the world for him to cry, for her to comfort him. Her soft voice rang in his ears. “I’m so scared.”

He opened his eyes then and smiled. “Everything will be all right this time.” He trailed a fingertip down the side of her cheek, memorizing the delicate curve, feeling her heat and her vulnerability and her soul-eating fear. “I promise.”

And for the next instant, her anguish eased just the tiniest bit. Hope flared, and Jesse knew that Faith Jansen was going to be all right.

Then he turned and walked away from her.

For the very last time.

“Doctor!” The nurse’s frantic cry filled the hospital room a few minutes after Jesse left.

Faith had pulled a chair up next to Daniel to rest her cheek against his cold hand. At the noise, she jerked upright, blinking her tear-filled eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Her gaze darted frantically from nurse to nurse as the hospital room quickly filled with medical personnel. Faith quickly found herself hustled out of the way as the medical team crowded
around Daniel, blocking him from her view.

“I told you,” one nurse rushed on. “One minute I’m sitting at the nurse’s station, I glance up, and then I see his heart monitor, and this.”

“It can’t be right.” The doctor leaned forward to get a closer look. “This
can’t
be right.”

The doctor ended his examination of the machine with a final check on the leads attached to Daniel’s body, a puzzled glance at the green-and-black monitor, and a shake of his head. “I don’t get it.” He hooked the stethoscope into his ears and leaned over Daniel, disappearing from Faith’s view.

She stood on the sidelines, tears streaming down her face, her breath shallow and pained.

We’re sorry. There’s nothing we can do
.

Massive trauma
.

Internal bleeding
.

“Is he … Oh, my God, is he—.” She swallowed, the word sticking in her throat. “Is he … getting worse?”

“I don’t believe this!” the doctor exclaimed. “Look at him. Look at his eyes. I just don’t believe it.”

“What?” Her voice was a strained whisper. While she didn’t want to hear the worst, she also hated not knowing. “Just go on and tell me.”

“I’ve been treating trauma cases for twenty years and I’ve never seen anything like this.”

“
What?
” she blurted, and a half dozen heads finally swiveled in her direction.

“This,” the doctor said, a bewildered expression on his face as he motioned her forward.

The crowd parted, leaving her a clear trail to Daniel’s bedside. She stared between two nurses to see Daniel, his eyes wide open, alert. The bruises mottling his face seemed pale now, the swelling that had distorted his features not as pronounced, almost as
if the healing process had already begun.

Impossible
.

“By all rights this boy should be dead. And even if he was hanging on by a thread, under no circumstances, I repeat,
no
circumstances, should he be wide-awake. He had a massive brain hemorrhage, and,” the doctor said, checking several switches and knobs on the respirator, “two collapsed lungs. Or at least he
did
…. This just isn’t possible.”

Murmurs echoed the doctor’s denial, yet no one could ignore the teenage boy who lay wide-awake on the bed before them.

Daniel lifted his hand then, to everyone’s astonishment, and reached out. “Faith,” he rasped, despite the respirator tube that hindered his speech.

Hot tears spilled past her lashes as she stepped forward and took his hand, felt his chilled fingers curl around hers.

“I need another CAT scan, an MRI, new blood cultures….” The doctor barked out orders to the shocked medical team.

But Faith didn’t need new tests to prove what lay right in front of her. Daniel was alive.
Alive
.

“It’s a miracle,” one of the nurses said, crossing herself as she held on to a small crucifix dangling from around her neck.

The doctor simply shook his head and hustled everyone off to carry out his orders. “I’m not saying anything one way or the other,” he told her when she raised questioning eyes to him. “I want test results first.” Then he turned on his heel and disappeared.

“You’re going to be okay,” she told Daniel, stroking the hair back from his bruised face, all the while holding his hand. “I promise.”

He nodded, a peaceful look creeping across his features. His eyes closed then and he fell asleep. The heart monitor pulsed with a steady beat. His chest rose and fell in a relaxed rhythm, and Faith knew that she’d told him the truth.

He
was
going to be all right.

I promise
. Jesse’s words echoed through her head, her heart, and she knew that somehow, some way, he was responsible for Daniel’s quick recovery.

The reality of all that they’d shared in the moments before Daniel had been spotted on the roof came rushing back to her. Jesse had
died
, and he’d come back.

But how? The possibilities whirled in her brain, but none of them made any sense. She needed to talk to him, to understand what had happened.

She found Bradley asleep on the sofa in the waiting room, surrounded by a half dozen slumbering kids. A light tap on his shoulder and he started.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she told him. “Absolutely nothing.” Then she went on to explain Daniel’s seemingly miraculous recovery.

“So he’s out of the woods for sure?”

Faith nodded and gave him a quick hug before sweeping another gaze around the room crowded with sleeping kids. “Where’s Jesse?”

Bradley shrugged. “I saw him take off maybe five or ten minutes ago. Right after he looked in on you.”

“I thought he was coming out here to sit with you and the kids.”

Bradley shook his head. “No. I figured he told you he was leaving.”

“He didn’t say a word, not even good-bye.” As the last word slid past her lips, the truth hit her like a
two-by-four. She sank down to the sofa and buried her face in her hands.

And she knew then that Jesse had, indeed, said good-bye to her.

Everything will be all right…. I promise….
, he’d said. And he’d kept his promise.