The REASON Series - the Complete Collection (29 page)

“Mikah, I can’t...”

“Please, just hear me out?” I ask, and she nods. “Alston said yesterday that you won’t be able to return to work for a couple of weeks. How are you going to make ends meet if you aren’t working?”
 

“So this would only be for a couple of weeks?” she asks.
 

“If you wish, but let me finish. The apartment is yours, to do as you wish, decorate how you like. My crew is at your disposal. When the time comes and you can return to work, I want you to come work for me.”

“Doing what, Mikah, I have no skills. That diner was the first job I’ve ever held longer than a couple of weeks.”
 

I’m taken aback by her rebuttal - not because she is arguing, but because she is devaluing her abilities.
 

“I have an entry-level administrative assistant position for you. It will pretty much be answering phones, taking messages, making copies, things like that. It’s easy, relatively stress-free work, and more importantly, it comes with a salary you can live off of. You won’t have to be on your feet, and it would even offer medical benefits so that you can pay your own way for the things you need if that is what’s important to you.”
 

“What about the apartment? There is no way that I can afford it, even with a salary.”

“We can work out a lease. You can pay me rent every month, if that’s what you need to do to feel comfortable.”

Her brows pull together. “How long do I have to think about this?”

“Until you’re discharged, but know this: I will not allow you back into that apartment, period. And I will not allow you on the streets or anyplace where Riley can track you down. So until he’s caught and this matter is resolved, I need you to come and stay where I can be close to you, keep an eye on you.”

She doesn’t answer me but nods, acknowledging that she’s heard me. I didn’t expect an answer from her, at least not right away, and I don’t get one.

Forty-Six

The room has been completely silent for a while, and the loud click of the door makes us both jump. Looking toward the door, we see Dr. Alston coming into the room.
 

“Am I interrupting?” she asks both of us.
 

“No,” we say in unison, and Vivienne smiles, giving me hope that she’s not upset with me.
 

Dr. Alston laughs. “Well, okay then. Vivienne, I have some good news.”

“Yay! Do I get to get out of here?”
 

“I’ll get to that. First of all, your shoulder and wrist look great. I will let you take off the sling, but I’d like you to wear the brace for at least another couple of days. You can take it off to shower, but put it back on when you’re done. Okay?”
 

“Okay, is that all?”
 

“Eager, aren’t we?” Dr. Alston smiles at Vivienne. “Your lung is still healing. While the outside is nearly completely healed, which is nothing like anything I’ve ever seen before, it’s still a bit inflamed. But it’s nothing that will keep you here in the hospital.”

“What about the baby?” I ask, and Vivienne looks to me for reassurance.
 

I move closer to her, hoping to provide a little more comfort, and she surprises me by putting her hand on my back. I feel a rush of pleasure through my body that has to do with something more than the fact that she is touching me, and I realize that she is tracing her fingers absently along my right wing. When her fingers cross over to normal skin, the difference in the sensation is marked.

“The baby is doing fine. You’re measuring a little bigger than fourteen weeks, but clearly that’s due to the fact that you’ve been eating more food.” She looks pointedly at the remains of Vivienne’s sandwich on the tray. “What with the unnatural rate at which you’re healing, I’m not going to be concerned right now about weight.
 

“Also...I didn’t ask you during the ultrasound because I didn’t want to get you worked up, but I was able to determine Baby Callahan’s sex, and I’ve taken the liberty of putting the proof in here.” She pulls out an envelope from her pocket. “I’ve never been wrong,” she says a little smugly, “but it’s not guaranteed. And I’d rather you look when you’re ready to find out. If you choose not to look, well, it will be a surprise when you have the baby.”

 
“Okay,” Vivienne says, taking the envelope. “I’ll let you know next time whether I’ve decided to look. Now can I leave?”
 

Dr. Alston rolls her eyes. “So impatient.” Then she asks, “Where are you going to go?”
 

My ears perk up and my heart sinks, dreading the answer.
 

“I can’t discharge you unless I know you’re going somewhere safe,” Dr. Alston continues. “Hospital policy. Do you have something set up?”

She nods.
 

I grow hopeful that she will take me up on my offer.
 

“Mikah has offered me a place to stay for a while, until I can get back to work and on my feet. I’m going to go home with him.”
 

YES!
I shout inside my head, and at the same time Vivienne gently pats my back, right between my shoulders. I have the sudden thought that Vivienne has been in my dreams with me.

“I think that is a great idea. I’ve scheduled an appointment for you for two weeks from tomorrow at ten. And no working at least until then, okay?”
 

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Okay, here are your discharge papers.” She hands Vivienne a stack of papers. “You cannot walk out of this hospital – it is a liability – but someone will come with a wheelchair to get you in a little bit. That’ll give you a chance to get packed up, and then that’s it, you’re free to go.”
 

“Thank you, Dr. Alston. For everything.”
 

“You’re welcome, Vivienne. It’s what I’m here for. I rather look forward to seeing you under happier circumstances. I will be in touch in a couple of days to see how you’re doing. I’ll see you in a couple of weeks, but feel free to call me if you need anything before then.”
 

As soon as the door closes behind Dr. Alston I turn to Vivienne. “Thank you. For not putting up a fight about my request.”

She lets out a breathy laugh. “Yeah, ‘cause you gave me so many options. But in the end, you’re right, I really have no place else to go, and I’d much rather be closer to you.”
 

I lean over and kiss her forehead. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
 

“For what?”

“Giving me hope.”

Prologue

“Do not toy with me.” His anger radiates off him in waves and the temperature in the room rises.
 

“It is done, Master. I’ve completed the task you’ve assigned me.” He does not look upon the other man’s face as he speaks. He’s kneeling some distance away, causing him to shout to be heard.
 

“Get up!” The evil voice fills the room, stunning everything inside.
 

The young man stands but does not raise his head.
 

The scene changes, and instead of a small, dark room, they are in a cavernous one, with strange pockets of steam rising through cracks in the rock floor. Somewhere nearby echoes of the hollow screams of tortured souls can be heard.
 

“Your job was simple, you were to kill her. Here you stand, not only her blood but the blood of at least two others on you. And yet I do not believe you have completed your task, minion. Why is this?”

“I don’t know. I left her dead, she was dead when I left.” He begins mumbling – low and incoherently - and twitches as though he can’t stand his own skin.
 

“Ah, but she is not dead. If she were dead, I’d have all my powers back, and...” Suddenly the room is lit up by a bright white flash. The air is instantly charged, static making hair stand on end, and the young man crumples to the ground. “And I’d be able to kill you.”

“No! Don’t. Don’t hurt him,” a female voice says, and a girl runs from behind a rock to be at the young man’s side.
 

“Who are you?” the dark, mysterious man shouts.
 

“What are you doing to him?” She looks down at the crumpled form on the floor and reaches out to touch his dirty blond hair. Looking up in the direction of the voice. “Who are you?”

A deep, throaty laugh comes from the man in the shadows, making the hairs on the back of her neck stand to attention. “I am your worst nightmare, child.”

The echo of heavy footsteps across the rock floor fills the cave, each step getting closer. She cowers, trying to pull the young man with her, but she fails. She lets him slump to the ground as she scrambles backwards on her hands and feet.
 

“What are you going to do to me?” she whispers breathlessly. Her body shakes in fear.
 

There is no response as the shadowy figure keeps walking closer with slow, measured steps.
 

“It is not you I wish to harm, child. It is this boy who needs a lesson in obedience.” There is an edge of reverence in his voice, as though he’s longing for something.
 

“What are you going to do to him?” she asks, the fear dropping away from her voice.
 

“If he’d done what he was supposed to do, I’d do nothing to him. But he has failed me and he deserves to be punished, perhaps tortured.” The voice is menacing and yet also strangely enticing to her.
 

“Take me instead,” she says, and she rises to her feet.
 

The footsteps stop. “What would I want with you, girl?”

“Anything, everything. Let Riley go and take me instead.”

“Tell me your name, child.” It comes out a growl.
 

“Nyssa.”

ONE

**
Vivienne**

I feel amazing, but why?

I look around, but there is nothing to see, nothing to look at, but solid white. Am I dead?

"No, darling, you are very much alive."
 

I spin around, trying to find the source of the gentle female voice, but I see nothing more than the white walls surrounding me.
 

"Who are you?" My voice is calm, but inside anxiety spikes at the unfamiliar voice.
 

"I'm here to help guide you," the voice says. It is soft, gentle and reassuring, but I'm still confused. "Someone is waiting for you down that hallway behind you."
 

I turn around hastily and am momentarily thrown off balance.
Oh yeah, my wings
, I think, as though I've had them my entire life, and flex my shoulders. A part of my mind – the part that knows I’ve never had wings – finds it odd that I’m so unconcerned about it.
 

After a moment, I regain my balance and begin heading down the hallway, and my heart starts to pound at the idea of what's waiting for me at the end.
 

As I'm walking, I take a look down at my dress. It's soft and white, with silver beads along the bodice in an intricate design below my breasts. My chest looks bigger - a lot bigger - than I remember, but looking down beyond them I can see why.
 

Standing out in perfect roundness is my baby bump, no longer a bump but very much a pregnant belly. I stroke it absently and note the silver, cuff-like bracelet around my wrist, its beautiful Celtic design highlighted by a shiny white stone in the center. The cuff extends down the back of my hand almost to my knuckle with its very detailed design.
 

Then I realize that there is also something cool pressing against my forehead. I can't see it, and when I try to pull on it, it tugs at my hair, so I leave it alone. It feels like a tiara or some type of headpiece.
 

I keep walking further down the hall; it's long and narrow, with no end in sight. I can't imagine how big this place is with a hall this long. My feet make no sound against the floor and I realize that I'm barefoot.

After a few moments more, I see something up ahead. A figure. I can't make out the details, but a rapidly growing longing churns inside me, and I quicken my pace.
 

But no matter how far I go, I just can't quite get there. Frustration boils. I'm reminded of a never-ending nightmare and my heart rate increases with unease.

Finally the figure comes into better focus. It's a man, shirtless and sporting an intricate black tattoo along his right shoulder and down his right arm. His skin has a nice tan tone to it against all the white behind him and the white pants he's wearing. His black hair is tousled as though he's been sleeping. Seeing the image as a whole sends a jolt of desire throughout my entire body. Every nerve is alive with an urgent need to be close to him.
 

And then an undercurrent of fear washes through me as the idea that I could need or want someone this much washes through me. I've never desired anyone before.

Mikah?
I ask myself. Could it really be him? What is he doing here? How did he get here?
 

The wings, the fact that I don't know that I've ever felt this good in my life...this has to be heaven; there is no other explanation for it, despite what I was told earlier. But if I'm in heaven, what is Mikah doing here? And does this mean I’m dead?

That female voice from earlier returns in the same friendly tones as before. "You are not in heaven, my dear. You are in Elysium, a place where only a few chosen are allowed to travel. Your presence here has nothing to do with being dead. You are very much alive.”

"Who are you?" I ask again.

"My name is Zirah, and I am your guide."

"Guide for what?"

"I am here to help you understand all the changes your body is going through. Mainly, I'm here to help you understand that you, my child, are a Chosen. You are an angel."
 

Suddenly the view in front of me shifts. The room is an ominous grayish-black. I blink a few times, adjusting to the dark after the stark white of a few moments ago.