Conduit

  Would Riley lie? Lev was beginning to wonder about all the suspicions the angel had left him with, yet as much as Riley made his skin crawl, the angel seemed just too cocky to lie. She was here; Lev just had to find her before it was too late.

  In a blind panic, he raced around the room shifting objects around, thinking he could just turn over the right stone and stumble across her. Never mind that there didn’t seem to be any place large enough to hide Elizabeth. More than once, he coughed from the smoke burning his lungs with every breath, and he forced himself not to look at the walls, knowing they could go up fast enough none of them would escape. The flames were getting bigger, leaping up at the rafters in their feeding frenzy. There wasn’t much time.

  “Did you find her?” Griffin called as he took another swing at the dybbuk in front of him and then ducked.

  “Not yet!” Lev seethed, stumbling around a wooden work bench where various car parts lay, waiting to be reassembled. It was one of the only spots he hadn’t searched, not that it seemed a likely hiding spot.

  “Elizabeth!” he called, more loudly, thinking if she just heard his voice, she’d come out. She wouldn’t leave him standing around like this. Nothing in this world would keep her front him.

  He gritted his teeth and looked again around the room, his gaze settling on the tarps. With impatient steps, he rushed at the nearest and flung it back, revealing an old tractor which hadn’t run in probably half a century. That was likely where those parts on the bench had come from.

  He fixed his gaze on the other tarp and sprang for it. He’d almost reached it when a beam splintered free from the ceiling and plummeted. It would’ve struck him had Griffin not jerked him out of harm’s way.

  “This place is about to go,” Griffin yelled over the crackling flames.

  “I don’t care!” Lev snatched at the tarp in a last ditch effort to find Elizabeth. As he tore it free, he quickly realized that what was beneath was a wooden crate, not a vehicle. Although the lid was settled on top, Lev wondered if she were in there. She had to be.

  “Elizabeth!” he shouted, and immediately pried the lid open. His hands trembled, and he fumbled at least once before the lid came loose.

  In the light of the flames, Lev spotted her lying amid a pile of blankets. She was still as death, her black hair framed her face. Her sightless eyes wide as she lay bound. An IV snaked into the top of one hand, suspended from a short pole near her head. It dripped a clear liquid.

  Lev’s breath caught. She looked dead but couldn’t be. He refused to believe that.

  “Holy crap,” Griffin muttered, motionless in shock.

  “Help me get her out,” Lev demanded, and they burst into motion. Griffin tackled the ropes around her hands and feet while Lev removed the I.V. Even as he pulled the cannula free, blood oozed out, nauseating him. It wasn’t the sight of blood that did it but the fact that it was Elizabeth’s blood, and what the loss of it portended because this time, no matter how much he’d willingly take another bullet for her, he couldn’t save her by trading his life for hers.

  Pushing the panic back, he scooped her into his arms and headed back to the exit, only to find it engulfed in flames.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “This so isn’t happening.” Griffin stared in horror at the wall of flames. There was no way through it. His breathing grew shallow, and he lowered the sword, unable to believe what he was seeing. Lev could hardly blame him.

  “What do we do?” Lev clutched her even tighter. He’d always sworn to protect her, and once again he’d fallen short, managing to get into the barn without access to get out.

  “I don’t know,” Griffin said, his voice breathy and panicked. The smoke got the best of him, then, making him cough so hard it bent him double with the force of it.

  Lev could feel it building in his chest, making breathing difficult. At this rate, it wasn’t going to be long before the smoke overcame them both.

  “Let’s try to get to the door,” Lev said, even though he didn’t see a way through the flames. “We can’t just stand here.”

  Lev stepped forward, his arms tightening around Elizabeth as though they could keep the flames at bay. At one time they would’ve been able, but not now. Now he was all too human and vulnerable.

  By the time they’d closed the distance to the entrance, neither of them could see the door for all the smoke and flame, and the heat was staggering. Lev was panting, taking in smoke with each breath.

  “We’ll never get through that,” Griffin said, his eyes wide.

  Lev opened his mouth to argue, but at that moment another wooden beam cracked overhead and snapping where the fire had weakened it. Neither he nor Griffin had time to dodge it, though they both tried. Lev reflexively rolled forward, trying to shield Elizabeth with as much of his body as he could, and held his breath, waiting for the impact.

  It never came. Evan had suddenly appeared, followed closely by Celia, catching the beam effortlessly and hurtling it aside. At first, Lev wasn’t sure where they’d come from, but then he saw the hole in the ceiling.

  “Get Griffin out of here!” Evan yelled, wrapping his arms around Lev and Elizabeth. As Evan leapt into the air, Lev succumbed to a fit of coughing, and Evan might’ve dropped them both had he not been holding them both so tightly.

  “Easy,” Evan soothed, and they shot past the flames.

  Although Lev had spent many hours trying to remember what flight had felt like, he hadn’t been able. It was only now, as his father held him that he remembered the feel of being an angel who could save humans. Part of him ached with the reality he’d never be that again, that that part of his life had passed. When he had first changed, he’d been okay with it, but now, not so much. If he couldn’t protect her, what was his purpose? Did he have one?

  That disturbing doubt filled him as Evan alighted on the ground and slowly relaxed his hold, making sure Lev wouldn’t fall. A dizziness washed over Lev, a by-product of the heat and the smoke. It consumed him, threatening to overtake him, and there was nothing he could do but ride it out.

  Griffin lay nearby as Celia looked him over, and farther off, Riley stood with Clarissa, trying to talk to her, but her gaze was focused on Lev and Elizabeth, her lips lifted into a smile.

  Why is she smiling? Lev wondered, but didn’t have time to pursue that thought as he felt his arms weaken and she fell. He looked down at her face, so sure the sudden movement would jostle her into wakefulness, but it didn’t. She remained so still she looked dead. Maybe she was, and were that the case, perhaps he should just let death take him as well.

  “Lev?”

  He heard his father calling him, but no answer came. Much as he vied against it, the blackness came.

  * * *

  The cool of a wet towel on his face woke him, and even though Lev couldn’t remember his dreams, he sensed they’d been anything but good.

  “Elizabeth?” he called, expecting to find her hand as the one tending him. Instead, as his fingers wrapped around the wrist, he looked up to find Clarissa, her expression thoughtful.

  “I’m not her. She’s sleeping.”

  Where?” He sat up, thinking he was still at the barn, but no, Evan had moved them to yet another campground, Lev’s mind and vision swam from the sudden movement, and the dizziness returned.

  “The next tent over—and no offense, but you don’t look so good. Maybe you should lie back down.”

  “I’m fine,” he replied stubbornly. “I need to see Elizabeth.”

  “I get that,” Clarissa said. “You might as well stand in line for all the good it’s going to do you. Right now your dad and Riley are with her, and even they haven’t been able to bring her back to consciousness, so unless you’ve got some other kind of magic mojo to share, I don’t think it’s going to do any good right now.”

  “I don’t much care what you think,” Lev snarled, forcing himself upright. Although he only glanced at her, he could tell there was something about her expression that troubled h
im, something that seemed off. He just couldn’t put his finger on what it might be.

  “Suit yourself. You always were too stubborn for your own good.” Her shoulders straightened into a hard line, and she frowned, obviously displeased.

  “So I’ve been told,” Lev admitted, trying to ignore the dizziness and finally managing to get his feet under him, and with no help from Clarissa.

  “Lev, what are you doing?” Celia asked, rushing into the tent, a concerned frown tugging at her lips. “You should still be lying down, trying to recuperate.”

  “Don’t remind me,” he muttered as a larger wave of dizziness washed over him. One knee buckled, and it was enough to make him stumble. He would’ve fallen had Celia not reached out and grabbed him, offering support just to keep him standing. Regardless of how much he wanted to see Elizabeth, it wasn’t going to happen right now. He had neither the strength nor the endurance, which was the only reason he let her ease him back to where he could lie down. The only thing which made that even remotely bearable was that when he looked around, he realized that at some point Clarissa had slipped off.

  “Evan is hopeful Lizzie will recover soon. He entered her dreams and spoke to her.”

  “And?” Lev asked, through gritted teeth. His heart was racing so fast his chest threatened to explode.

  Celia gave his shoulder a squeeze. “You can relax, okay? He said that aside from being shaken, mentally, she’d been untouched. She just has to wake up, and her body is working on that. We just need to give her time and keep the dybbuks at bay while Riley and Evan figure out who’s leading them.”

  Lev closed his eyes. “And did they glean any information from any of the dybbuks before they dispatched them?”

  “Unfortunately not.” She brushed the hair from her eyes. “Still, we can handle this. Now that Elizabeth is back with us, we’ll figure it out. We always do.”

  For the first time since waking, Lev realized just how dry his mouth was, and he licked his chapped lips, feeling pain as his tongue brushed over them.

  “Is there any water?” he asked quietly.

  “Sure,” she said. “I’ll get you some.” She stood and walked over to a cooler where she grabbed a bottled water. “Sorry that it’s not cold,” she said, twisting free the cap to make it easier for him to drink. She handed him the bottle.

  “It’s all good. At least it’s wet.”

  “Yes, it is th….” Her voice died mid-thought, and she diverted her attention to the tent where Elizabeth lay. “That’s not good.” The smile left her face.

  “What?” Lev demanded.

  “There are dybbuks coming. I can’t tell how many, but things are about to get ugly.” She stepped away. “Whatever you do, stay put. The three of us will handle things.” She started out but then peered around the tent. “Where’s Clarissa?”

  “I don’t know. She slipped out when you came in. I didn’t see where she went.”

  “Okay. I’ll try to find her.”

  As Celia slipped out, Lev peered at the tent where Evan and Riley had been. Now she lay alone, still sleeping. At the sight of her there alone and unprotected, his heart quickened, and he tried not to think about what might happen. Surely Evan and Riley could handle it—and Griffin. Where was he?

  Unable to handle all the things his eyes couldn’t see, Lev forced himself to peer out, trying to discern what he could about the dybbuks—how many there were and how close—yet once again he struck out. Whatever lay ahead, he was blind to it.

  So here again he was useless.

  In spite his sister’s warning and the stubborn dizziness claiming him, Lev sat up, determined this time to struggle to his feet and take his place beside Elizabeth. Yes, doing so might kill him, but he didn’t care. Facing this world without her would surely do so regardless.

  Although he wanted to move quickly, his body refused to cooperate. He was lucky to roll to his stomach and rise on shaky legs that threatened to give beneath him. Struggling forward, he blindly reached out for something to grab onto but found nothing. He stumbled but somehow managed to remain upright. Swallowing the bile which had surged up into his throat, he forced himself on.

  “Lev, I told you to stay put!” Celia yelled, raising her hand. At once, he felt himself falling backward toward the sleeping bag he’d lain on not so long ago.

  Arms flailing, he tried to keep his balance, but there were so many things fighting within him—the pain, the nausea, the fatigue, all of which were too much, and he was no match for his sister’s iron determination to keep him in this tent.

  As his back slammed to the ground, a fresh surge of pain ripped through him. The force of the blow knocked the air from his lungs, and it was all he could do to draw breath, to breathe as he helplessly clawed at the sleeping bag just to hold onto something.

  He clenched his eyes shut, willing his world to stop spinning, but his body felt as though he were suddenly on a ride he couldn’t stop.

  Unconsciousness reached for him again, but this time he fought it with everything he had, forcing open his eyes. Sweat beaded his forehead, stinging his eyes as it ran into them.

  You have to get up, he thought. There’s no one with Elizabeth, and she could die.

  With that thought, he pushed the pain back where it no longer controlled him. He still felt it tearing at him, but now it was bearable. Now, he could move.

  His breathing had slowed as his lungs finally took in enough air. All his senses were dragging, allowing him to ease himself to a sitting position.

  A burst of bright, white light suddenly exploded just outside the tent, temporarily blinding him. He closed his eyes, feeling like a sitting target. What he wouldn’t give to have his wings back. He’d never again gripe about them. Ever. But that ship had sailed. He blinked a few times and tried to look outside, but all he saw was more of that same blinding brilliance, convincing him he should just look elsewhere.

  He had no other choice. Immediately, he walked toward Elizabeth’s tent, where he spotted a man at the entrance—a dybbuk, no doubt.

  Where were Celia and the others? Whatever was happening, it must have involved all of them, and that left only him.

  Adrenaline shot through him, prompting him to move faster. This time, his body seemed less awkward and answered his summons without much argument. The pain lingered, but he kept it at bay, never quite letting it reach the forefront of his mind.

  More blinding light came at him, and he suddenly heard the sounds of combat around him. How many dybbuks were there? He didn’t know, and it wasn’t like he could just look up and figure it out. He needed to see.

  He shuffled out, snatching up his sword as an afterthought. Although he was weak, he tightened his grip.

  This time, Celia must’ve been too busy with the battle to realize he’d slipped out, keeping his eyes averted and one hand on the tent to use a guide as he edged closer to the tent.

  At first, he couldn’t see her—couldn’t tell what was going on. That only made things worse. Even if his worst nightmare played out, not seeing and not knowing crippled him.

  Still, he forced himself to keep moving until he’d reached the corner of the tent and could peer around. He expected that guy—the tall, lanky man in his late twenties—to be there, up close and personal with Elizabeth while the dybbuk inside of him did whatever it was that the dybbuks seemed to want. That was happening, all right; however, what he didn’t expect was that Clarissa would be standing next to him, both of them looking down at Elizabeth with the same hungry expression, like she was their meal ticket.

  Clarissa leaned over Elizabeth, almost as though trying to see if she were breathing.

  Unless she were working with the dybbuks.

  “No.” Lev’s mind reeled.

  But if Clarissa weren’t working with the dybbuks, she would have called out a warning, wouldn’t she? He had to believe she would’ve, and that meant that whoever or whatever Clarissa was, she wasn’t a scared teenager, and his worst nightmare was just about to
come true unless he did something fast.

  He didn’t know if he could race anywhere, but he knew he could swing the sword, if necessary. With that in mind, he lumbered forward. Around him, the world seemed distorted as the weakness washed over him yet again. Briefly, he wondered if Evan and Celia would see him before he somehow made it inside the tent—if he made it inside. He expected to hear one of the three of them call his name and tell him to stop, yet that never happened.

  Instead, he staggered forward, ignoring his blurred vision as best he could. It wasn’t easy. Right then, there were at least two of Clarissa. One was bad enough, and both were leaning over Elizabeth, doing something he couldn’t see.

  “Get away from her!” he snarled, raising the sword.

  Clarissa never moved, but the dybbuk shifted, the head jerking in a way that reminded Lev that while the bodies were human the spirits controlling them were anything but.

  “Lev, you don’t look so good. Perhaps your sister was right—that you should be lying down.” She smiled and lifted her left hand. Then he felt himself flying through the air. He cleared the tent’s entrance before his body hit the ground.

  Pain shot through him, leaving him gasping. A million questions raced through him, fogging his brain. Who was Clarissa, and what had she had to do with Elizabeth’s abduction?

  He shifted, propping his body up on his elbows so he could struggle to his feet when he realized that Clarissa had stepped ever closer, the dybbuk right beside her, its vacant eyes settling on him.

  “I’d stay down,” she warned, pushing her palm toward him. The motion flattened him against the ground.

  Gasping, he forced himself to look at her, trying to make sense of everything, most especially why she was smiling.

  “You do remember me, don’t you, Lev?”

  He didn’t know if it were her voice or her words that made him feel like spiders were suddenly crawling all over him. Maybe it was both, and as the words spun round in his head, he puzzled over their meaning.