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Requiem (Providence #2)

Page 28

“This is stupid, let’s go,” Claire said.

Kim held up her hands. “Wait. Just wait. We al know she doesn’t have much time left.”

Kim saying aloud what everyone else knew—and had hoped to keep from me—felt like a bittersweet release, but the siblings' expressions were ashamed.

Jared’s eyes hit the floor.

“Did I miss something here?” Ryan said, shifting his weight. For the first time since we'd arrived, he seemed uneasy.

Kim’s eyes met mine. “Both sides are talking. You know too much, Shax wants revenge, and you pose a threat to Hel just by being alive. We could pluck out your uterus today and they would stil end your life to prevent a miracle. You are going to die, anyway, Nina. It’s time we resort to desperate measures.”

“Christ Almighty,” Charles whispered.

The air was absent of sound. Everyone’s eyes were on me, but I couldn’t reply. I could barely breathe.

“I’m not going to let that happen, Nina,” Jared said. “We can figure out another way.”

“Is it true?” I said, looking up at him.

His eyes fel away from mine, and I knew the answer.

“Why is this happening?” I cried, pul ing away from his grip.

“Nina,” Claire said as I passed.

I ran outside into the rain. Since the day Jack died, my life had spun so far out of control it was hard to remember what my life was like when I was just like any other girl. It wasn’t fair. Eli had instructed me to be strong, and not to mourn the normal life I once had, but I didn’t want to die— especial y for a choice I didn't make.

Jared was immediately behind me, encompassing me in his warm arms. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice pained. “Let me find another way.”

“No,” I said, wiping my nose. “Let’s just get it over with.”

A few moments later, the rest of the group joined us. They al waited patiently for my answer.

Charles fidgeted. “I wish there was some way we could help you.”

Kim hooked her arm with her father’s. “I'm helping them,” she said, her eyes strangely soft and sad. “I won't leave her side until it's finished.”

Charles nodded, squeezing his daughter to his side.

“Okay,” I said, shaking off the fear. “How are we going to do this?”

“This is crazy!” Ryan said. “Tel her, Jared! There’s no way we’re using her for demon bait!”

Jared cringed, but he didn’t speak.

Claire grabbed my hand. “We choose our own fate, right Nina?” she said, managing an encouraging smile.

“Yes,” I said. “If it’s going to happen, I want it to be on my terms.”

“You’re al insane!” Ryan said, horrified. “I feel like I’m watching you al sentence her to death!”

Kim opened the door to the Sentra. “Now al we need is a plan,” she said.

Jared tugged on my hand. “Ride with me.”

I squeezed his fingers in mine, knowing he faced the same fate as I. The ride home was quiet; no radio, no talking, just the noise of the road under the tires, and the rain pounding against the windshield.

The window wipers danced back and forth, clearing the rain drops long enough to let the next droplets splash into their place. Headlights from oncoming cars whizzed by, but they were driving slow because of the weather. It was Jared that was disregarding the speed limit by at least thirty miles per hour.

The decision to use myself as a distraction was mine, but the plan was up to Jared. He would be forced to map out our every move, hoping that it was perfect enough to spare our lives.

“We can do this,” Jared final y said, lifting my hand to his lips. “It’s going to work, and we’l have the book, and then we can save you.”

“I know,” I said with a smal smile. “I trust you.”

“Sweet potato fries,” he said, his cloudy eyes glossing over.

“Sweet potato fries,” I smiled back.

Chapter Seventeen

The Roof

Jared paced, brooded, and once in a while, when his thoughts were particularly tormented, he winced. The color had long left his face as he played back the different scenarios in his mind. Back and forth he paced, so many times that I watched the floor, wondering when he would wear a trail. His inner turmoil could have set the room on fire. It was unbearable to watch, but I couldn't leave him; not when he was planning my death.

Claire sat next to me, holding my hand, suffering Jared's torture as I did. Jared had the most to lose, so the plan was his alone. Each decision, from the moment we left the house until the book was safe within its wal s, fel on Jared's shoulders. Watching that responsibility slowly tear him apart was agonizing.

I did not envy his position. Just he thought of doing the same made me feel sick to my stomach.

Jared stopped mid-step. “Ryan?”

“Yeah, man?” Ryan said, standing. He had never been a fan of Jared, but we al shared a common thread. Whether we liked it or not, if one of us was hurt, we would al fal . A loss would affect al of us differently, but it would change our lives in the same horrific way.

“Come with me,” Jared said, leaving the room.

Ryan glanced at Claire, and then fol owed Jared into the hal way. Claire's grip on my hand tightened.

“You can hear them,” I said.

She looked down at our hands, and then closed her eyes. “Don't ask me to tel you, Nina. Let Jared do this his way.”

“Okay,” I nodded, trusting her judgment.

Ryan returned with a solemn expression. Uncomfortable at best, afraid was a more honest description. He took a few steps toward Claire and I, and then held out his hand.

“Feel like going to the pub?” he asked me.

My eyes veered to Claire, and my head turned slightly unintentional y. “Um...I guess,” I said, looking back to Ryan.

“Good. Give her something shiny, Claire,” he said, pul ing me to stand.

Claire reached behind her and held out her pistol. “Take it,” she shrugged, trying too hard to seem indifferent. “I have seven more at home.”

My first instinct was to ask a dozen questions, but something told me time was an issue. Jared wanted this to be over.

I took a deep breath. “On the bright side, if I die, I don't have to worry that I didn't study for the test I have in the morning.”

“You're not going to die,” Ryan said. “This is just a test run.”

“A test run,” I said, looking at the gun in my hand. “Okay. Let's see what they've got.”

I fol owed Ryan into the hal , passing Jared along the way. He didn't meet my eyes, so I grabbed the sleeve of his shirt.

“You don't exactly exude confidence. Can you just pretend?”

He forced a smile. “I'l see you soon.”

“Good job,” Ryan said dryly, pul ing me behind him.

In Ryan's truck, we took the short trip to the pub. Every bump, every pot hole, every street light seemed especial y big or bright, as if my mind wanted to record every second of my last moments on earth.

The truck slowed to a stop in the parking lot across the street, and I looked out the window to the pub. Col ege co-eds meandered on the sidewalk, congregating in smal groups, laughing and chatting without a care in the world. I had seen a few of them in the hal s of Brown, and I wondered what they would say when they heard the news, and what the news would even be. Would the papers call it an accident? A murder? A suicide? I shuttered when thoughts of myself post-mortem. Would demons al ow me any dignity or mercy at al ?

“Ryan? If it comes down to it, don't let them take me, okay? I don't know what things something so evil is capable of...but I don't want to....” I struggled to say it aloud, “Don't let me suffer, okay? Take care of it. You know what I mean?”

“What?” he said, his nose wrinkling. “You mean you want me to issue a mercy shot before they drag you off to torture you.”

I didn't remember Ryan being so blunt before. Perhaps the desert had taken every bit of sensitivity he had left.

“I don't want to be alone with those things. Even for a minute. If they take me, I'm giving you permission.”

“Stop,” Ryan said. “I won't let anything happen to you, and I know Jared, Claire and Bex are al watching. You act like you've never been bait before.”

I sighed. “Can't say that I have. Let's get this over with.”

Ryan stepped out, and then walked around, opening the door. We walked into the pub hand-in-hand, and Ryan scanned the dozen or so faces, picking a spot on the corner of the bar. He ordered a shot and two beers, and then rested his elbows on the dark wood in front of him. The music was blaring, and the loud, variable tones of conversation blurred into one another.

“So what's the plan?” I asked over the music.

The bartender set our drinks on the bar, and Ryan tossed him a twenty. “I don't know. I'm just fol owing orders. So far it's to drink, but not too much where I can't aim straight., or it affects Claire.”

“Aiming's not going to help,” I grumbled. “Why do you get a shot and I don't?” I asked, watching him throw his back.

“Jared said you get one beer.”

“Just one?” I picked at the label on the bottle. “I guess he drinks when I do.”

We didn't bother to toast to anything. I tried my best to forget that I was terrified, and sipped on the bitter, dark liquid until it was gone. Ryan ordered another round, but when the bartender placed a ful bottle in front of me, Ryan grabbed it with his other hand, drinking from them both. So much time had passed since I'd had any alcohol at al , just the one round helped to drown out the laughter in the background that became increasingly annoying as time dragged on.

When Ryan final y stood, I couldn't help but breath a sigh of relief.

“That's it? We're done?” I asked.

Ryan shook his head. “No, we're just starting. Zip up your coat, we're going for a walk. Once we hit that door, I need Oscar-worthy drunk, giggly col ege kid on the sidewalk, okay?”

“Wel , I've never felt so giggly in my life, so this should be a breeze,” I deadpanned.

Ryan pushed open the door, and I hooked my arm in his. We walked a block, and then made a turn. After two blocks, we turned in a different direction.

“This is obvious,” I said, noting the dark street.

“Sshh, we're being fol owed,” Ryan whispered.

“Goody,” I said, trying to keep my steps in line with his.

Before we reached the corner, two men stepped onto the sidewalk from the al ey. Ryan stopped, pushing me behind him.

“Hi there, boys,” Ryan said.

One of the men smiled. “That's a pretty little girl you got there.”

Ryan was clearly irritated. “Thanks. Tel your boss I'm insulted.”

“And why's that?” the other man said, amused.

Ryan smiled. “You're smal er than I expected,” he said, looking up at the ominous man looming over him.

Without warning, Ryan headbutted the first goon. The man stared into Ryan's eyes, stunned. Blood suddenly streamed from his nose, and then he stumbled back, final y fal ing to the ground.

The second man pul ed his weapon. His smal smirk quickly faded when Ryan and I traded glances, and then pul ed ours. Every nerve in my body was on edge. Instead of fear, I was fighting back a smile. Pointing a gun, and being on the offensive was so empowering that I had to work to keep from giggling with excitement.

“He set us up!” the man said, kicking at his partner, shaking as his kept his gun pointed in our direction.

“Get up, Lenny! We got set up!”

“Put your gun on the ground!” Ryan growled. His voice sounded different than what I was used to. No doubt residuary from his tour in Afghanistan.

The man did as Ryan commanded, and then scampered off, pul ing his friend with him. I clicked the safety on the pistol in my hand, habit from my lessons with Jared, and then stuffed it into the back of my jeans.

“That was the plan?” I asked.

Ryan put his hands low on his hips, spitting on the ground. “No. That was most definitely not the plan. They were supposed to take you.”

“Take me?”

“Wel ...not take you, take you...try to take you, I guess. I real y don't know.”

“That makes me feel a lot better!” I huffed.

Ryan froze when a clicking sound echoed in the al ey behind us. Donovan stood just feet away, pressing the barrel of his gun to Ryan's head.

“So they're trusting humans to watch their Taleh's now, are they? I don't care if you are some sort of hero, I ain't buyin' it,” Donovan said, looking around.

I reached for my gun, but a warm hand encircled my wrist. “She's a brave little pistol, isn't she?”

If it weren't for the voice, I would have expected to turn and see Jared standing behind me. The same warm skin, the smell , the blonde hair—but his eyes were a lighter blue than Claire's—almost white. He was so tal I had to take a step back just to get a good look at him.

“Isaac?” I whispered.

He smiled, and then smirked at Donovan. “I'm famous.”

“And dead if we don't get the hel outta here. They wouldn't leave her alone.”

“Of course not,” Isaac said calmly. “But we'l play.”

Isaac and Donovan led us down the al ey to a waiting car. Isaac wasn't nearly as gentle as the other celestial beings I'd met. It shouldn't have surprised me; a Hybrid that protected a man who worked for demons had to have been so far detached from his origins and core beliefs. I didn't dare attempt to let my mind linger on what he was capable of.

After tying both of our hands behind our backs, Donovan hit Ryan on the head with the butt of his gun, and after a short crack, Ryan fel limp. Isaac slipped a black cover over his head, and then tossed him into the back seat of the car. Ryan's head fel against the door on the other side.

“Don't!” I said, recoiling.

Isaac smiled, and then shoved the same black covering over my head, tenderly helping me to a spot next to Ryan.

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