The Sweetest Burn

A jolt slipped into me, tiny and yet potent, like a mild electric shock. For the briefest second, it brought the pain and the noise back, and then it was gone. I was relieved by the silence and nothingness again. It was so peaceful here. If Adrian were somehow with me, it would be perfect—

Jolt. Jolt, jolt, jolt, jolt.

Noise crashed into me, along with more pain than I could stand. I tried to run from it but I couldn’t move, even if now, I could feel in full, agonizing acuteness.

Ivy, I felt rather than heard Adrian whisper. Use my strength to heal yourself. Come back to me.

The pain was so intense, I was screaming, and at the same time, I knew I wasn’t making any sound. I was trapped in a nightmare I couldn’t wake up from, and each slow, fluttering beat of my heart sent more merciless, cascading pain through me.

Ivy, Adrian said more urgently. Stop fighting and use my strength!

I didn’t know what he meant, but when he spoke, those jolts sizzled through me with more power. Could that be him, somehow? I wondered. Was I being shocked with a defibrillator? If so, then I was technically dead, but other people had come back from that. Could I?

When the next shock went through me, I stopped trying to run from it. Instead, I braced myself and absorbed it. It brought an avalanche of pain, but beyond that, I could hear Jasmine’s voice again. And Adrian’s, though his still seemed to be whispered into my mind instead of filtered through my ears.

That’s it, Ivy. Take more.

Another shock, and I rode it without bracing this time. Light flashed before my eyes. Not the I-see-a-tunnel kind, but with flashes of faces bent over me and a babble of voices. Then another shock, and another, and I was riding a wave of pain that swept me right into full sound, color and sensation.

“Ivy!” my sister screamed. Then louder, “Costa, she opened her eyes!”

“Stop shouting,” I tried to say, but couldn’t. That’s when I realized I had a large tube shoved down my throat. I couldn’t seem to move anything except my eyes, and when they slid to my right, I saw Adrian in a hospital bed next to me. He also had a breathing tube and multiple machines around him, but his arm was stretched out as if reaching toward me.

That’s when I looked down and saw that his hand was clasped around mine. Tears filled my eyes, overflowing onto my cheeks when I saw him blink once, slowly, and then his dark sapphire gaze met mine.

He couldn’t talk, either, but he smiled, and when he did, I knew that both of us were going to be okay.

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

IT TOOK THREE doses of manna over three days before I could walk again. Funny; I thought I’d mastered walking around age two, but over a week in a coma will mess your body up, it seemed. Adrian was either taking just as long to recover or he was holding himself back to match my pace out of solidarity.

My mobility problem wasn’t the only new thing I woke up with. I also had another tattoo that ran from my neck all the way down the right side of my body, finally ending at my toes. The incredible detail of the gnarled wood staff looked as if it had taken an artist weeks to ink onto me, but I knew that it had only taken seconds as yet another hallowed weapon merged with my skin. I had no idea what this meant, but if my second tattoo was anything like the first one, it might come in handy one day.

Costa had arranged for us to recover in an abandoned church that he’d turned into a makeshift intensive care unit. How did he do all that? It turned out that months ago, Adrian had given him access to his accounts and contacts in case of an emergency. Since this had definitely qualified, Costa had made the most of both. We had an excellent doctor, two nurses and two physical therapists at our beck and call. They were wonderful people who never questioned the odd surroundings, lack of mirrors or complete confidentiality requirements. I was so grateful for all they’d done, but when it was time for them to leave, I was glad to see them go. That meant we were really recovered, and recovered meant that we could finally start our lives again.

I couldn’t wait to do that with Adrian.

That’s why, when a familiar blue hoodie appeared in the corner of my eye as I was packing so we could catch our plane back to the States, my first reaction was to tense.

“Zach,” I said without turning around. “What are you doing here?”

“You’re still angry with me,” he noted in his usual mild tone.

I shoved a shirt into my suitcase with more force than necessary. “Yep, although I owe you a thank-you for stopping the demons in the mine shaft, but then again, they wouldn’t have been there if you’d told us where the staff was in the first place.”

He came closer, forcing me to look at him unless I chose to walk away. “After everything you’ve been through, you still don’t see it?”

“See what?” I asked. “Adrian trying to kick your ass as soon as he realizes you’re here? Or see Jasmine get in line to do the same after him? You didn’t make a lot of friends when you said you wouldn’t heal me or raise me, even though you could have easily done one or the other.”

“I have orders,” Zach said, his dark gaze unwavering.

“Then maybe tell me why He’s got it in for me?” I snapped, a soul-deep hurt bubbling to the surface. “I have done my best with all this, yet He specifically ordered you to let me stay dead if my best still ended up getting me killed?”

Zach sighed deeply. “You have the supernatural proof that billions of people long for, yet you have so little faith. When will you realize that nothing in your life has been left to chance? Take my not telling you about the staff.”

“Yes, let’s hear it,” I muttered. He ignored that.

“If I had told you where it was the night you first decided to go after it, you would have been killed because you weren’t ready. If I’d told you weeks ago when you left with Adrian seeking it, you both would have been killed—Adrian by the demons in the ambush, you as soon as you touched the staff because again, you weren’t ready. If I’d told you right after the campus attack, same scenario. In fact, if you’d learned at any time before you did, you, Adrian, your sister and Costa would have died as a result. So tell me, Ivy, how have I wronged you with this?”

Frustration bubbled up in me. If he was telling the truth, then he hadn’t. In fact, then I owed him another thank-you, and a big one, but it still felt wrong.

“All those people at the campus and back at the desert house,” I whispered. “You’re saying they died and got trapped in demon realms all so I could get tough enough to wield the staff? And that’s supposed to, what, be an acceptable trade? Why didn’t you help them? If you knew everything that was going to happen, you knew that, too, yet you did nothing. Why is that? Because you didn’t care, or because your boss didn’t?”

Zach’s dark gaze glowed with specks of light. “You believe you would do better if the power of life and death was yours?”

I let out a harsh laugh, thinking of my parents, who’d been killed by demons because they were stirring up trouble over Jasmine’s disappearance. Adrian’s mother, slaughtered by Demetrius while she was trying to protect him. Father Louis, a good man, killed by Blinky. Edgar, a loyal Guardian, either drowned or killed outright in the mine ambush. Tomas, Costa and Adrian’s friend, killed by minions in the desert. All the people demons and minions had pulled into the realm during the campus attack, and all the hopeless, abused ones I’d seen when I was searching the realms looking for the slingshot.

“I don’t know if I’d do better, but some days, it looks hard to do worse,” I said, meeting Zach’s gaze.

“Prove it,” Zach said, startling me. “All the dark realms are now sealed off. This keeps most demons off the earth, but also dooms the humans trapped in them. You, Ivy, and you alone have the ability to do something about that.”

“How?” I asked, but deep down, I already knew.

“The final weapon,” he replied, confirming it. “The spearhead of Longinus.”

I was the last Davidian, so I should know this, but it didn’t ring any bells. “Who was Longinus and why is his spearhead so important?”

“Longinus was the Roman solider who thrust his spear through the side of Jesus of Nazareth as he hung on the cross,” Zach replied. Oh, right. That. “The spearhead is all that remains of the weapon,” Zach continued, “but one thrust of it through the appointed gateway can create a door in all the realms that only humans can cross through. If you find it and use it, you will save all who manage to come out, but the spearhead is the strongest, most hallowed weapon of them all.” ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">