And Blue Skies From Pain (51 page)
Read And Blue Skies From Pain Online
Authors: Stina Leicht
Liam turned his head and eyed the rear door with its blasted handle.
How long do we have?
How long do we have?
“Hope you’re right about the others being friends,” Frankie said. “Because I’ve some bad news, mate.” He used his pistol again when the Fallen showed signs of moving. The thing twitched with each shot. The blasts were lost in the sounds of battle. “I’ve two bullets left.”
Liam pulled Ned’s Beretta from his pocket and offered the freshly loaded pistol to Frankie. “Will this do?”
“Aye.” Frankie checked it and nodded. “Back to work.”
Searching again for Father Murray, Liam saw the woman with the short red hair fall. He pointed to her. “Frankie! Cover her!”
Frankie didn’t hesitate. He turned and targeted the nearby Fallen before it could finish her off. To his amazement, Liam saw her sit up and resume firing. He wasn’t sure how long she could stay conscious. She was losing a lot of blood.
“Where are you going?” Frankie asked.
“We have to get her out of there.” Liam ran to the red-haired woman. “She’s wounded.”
“You’ll be shot!”
For a moment Liam felt a similar joy running through the battle as he did the driving.
Is it the danger?
he thought, feeling a bullet buzz past. By some miracle, he made it to her side without getting hit. He crouched beside her. “Miss?” He sensed Frankie gunning down those that fired at them.
Is it the danger?
he thought, feeling a bullet buzz past. By some miracle, he made it to her side without getting hit. He crouched beside her. “Miss?” He sensed Frankie gunning down those that fired at them.
She started and swung the pistol around and pointed it at him. Her lips were pressed together in a grimace of pain. Her eyes were watering from either the smoke or the bullet wound.
“Don’t! I’m here to help you!”
She blinked. “You’re Liam Kelly?” she asked in an American accent.
“I am,” Liam said. “Let’s get you out of harm’s way.” He looked down and saw she’d been shot in the left thigh.
She laughed and then coughed. “Being in harm’s way is sort of the point.” She reloaded her gun and winced. Her bravado cost her, that was apparent by the paleness of her face.
“Do you know where Father Murray is?” Liam asked.
Indicating the room where the priest had been held prisoner with a nod, she said, “In there. He’s wounded but safe.”
“You’re going to bleed to death,” Liam said. He crouched, getting a shoulder under hers. She stifled a cry of pain, but she let him help. “Frankie, we’re leaving.”
“Where to?” Frankie asked.
Liam said, “Father Murray is in that room. The one where he was being held.” The woman didn’t seem to weigh much as he helped her limp across the concrete.
“Right.” Frankie followed, covering their progress.
Peering through the glass before entering, Liam could see the priest lying on the mattress Séamus had provided. A blanket was draped over him, and he was shivering. The blindfold and the handcuffs were gone, but his eyes were closed, and he looked sick.
Liam awkwardly pushed through the door. “Father?”
Wincing, Father Murray slowly shifted onto his side and then sat up. “Liam?”
Frankie positioned himself near the door.
“This place is burning down. The RUC or the army can’t be far off. Time to go,” Liam said and lowered the young woman to the floor.
Once she was settled, she got out her pistols and ammunition and began reloading. Something about her fierce efficiency reminded him of Ceara, and if he hadn’t spent what had seemed like weeks training under her watchful eye, Liam would’ve felt less sure of the redhead with the mod bob. He took off his belt.
“What do you think you’re doing?” the woman asked.
“Tourniquet. Have to slow the bleeding,” Liam said, kneeling down and then wrapping the belt around her wounded leg. “Who are you? And what are you and Conor doing here?”
“Helping you,” she said and flinched as he tightened the belt around her thigh. “My name is Sister Ginny.”
Liam paused. “Sister?”
“You’re a nun?” Frankie asked, gaping.
“If you can accept soldier-priests why not combat nuns?” she asked, frowning.
“What?” Frankie asked and then glanced at Father Murray.
I’m touching a nun’s bare—don’t even think about it. Not now.
Liam turned to Father Murray. “Conor is part of your Order, Father?”
Liam turned to Father Murray. “Conor is part of your Order, Father?”
“Conor isn’t part of any Order. He’s a friend,” Sister Ginny said.
A friend,
Liam thought.
What kind of friend?
“I need a knife to cut a notch in the belt.”
Liam thought.
What kind of friend?
“I need a knife to cut a notch in the belt.”
“It’s in my patch pocket,” Sister Ginny said, fumbling with the buttoned pocket on her right thigh.
“Hold this tight, then.” Liam accepted the knife from her and got to work on the belt. “Can you get far on foot do you think, Father?”
“I’m not sure,” Father Murray said.
Liam heard a door thump.
“Liam?” Frankie asked.
“Aye?”
“We’ve got company,” Frankie said. “Two men. Never seen them before. One looks like a fucking hippie.”
“Oh, aye? Is he a big blond fucker? And the other has black hair like mine?”
“Aye, mate. They’re headed this way.”
“That’ll be my uncle Sceolán and my da.” Liam took the belt end from Sister Ginny and set the belt buckle to the new notch. Finished with the tourniquet, he stood up to get a view of the main room. Smoke made visibility out the front of the warehouse almost impossible. Bran and Sceolán were at the door.
“That’s your da?” Frankie asked.
“Frankie will help you, Father,” Liam said. “We’ll go out the back.”
Father Murray nodded. “Ginny, where are the others?”
Ginny said, “Holding off the Fallen, Father.”
Bran and Sceolán entered, both coughing.
Liam sat back on his heels and started re-loading Frankie’s pistol. “Hello, Da.”
Bran said, “This place isn’t safe.”
“You’re Liam’s real da?” Frankie was clearly trying to keep focused on the battle but was having some trouble.
“Da, this is Frankie,” Liam said. “He’s the one I told you about before.”
“You told him about me?” Frankie asked.
“I told him enough,” Liam said.
Ginny checked the tourniquet and nodded satisfied. “Not bad for a demon.”
“I’m not a—”
“I know.” She smiled and put out a hand. “Officially, I’m Sister Lara Virginia Toner. But you can call me Ginny.”
Liam blinked and then took her hand.
The muffled cry of sirens filtered through the glass.
“If we’re leaving, we should get about it,” Frankie said, turning away from the door and running over to Father Murray. “Peelers are here.”
Liam snapped the clip into place and got up. He handed off the pistol and the remaining ammunition to Frankie.
Frankie said, “I’m going along with this for now. But once it’s done I’ve a great number of questions for you, mate.”
Liam gave him a reassuring look. “I imagine you will.”
“Just so’s we’re clear.” Frankie helped Father Murray to his feet.
Liam returned to Sister Ginny. “You’re going unarmed?” Ginny asked.
“I am. But that doesn’t mean I won’t help you lot do what has to be done.” Liam lifted her from the ground using his shoulder again. Once again the thought that he was touching a nun passed uncomfortably through his mind. “Ready, Frankie?”
“Aye.”
With Frankie, Bran and Sceolán watching their backs, they hobbled to the back door. The other two women and Conor retreated, meeting them. All were coughing and covered in soot.
“What happened? Where are the Fallen?” Sister Ginny asked.
“They retreated when they heard the police sirens,” the black woman said. “Ginny, you okay?”
“I’m fine for now.”
Liam managed to get himself and Ginny through the back door without injuring her further. Frankie, Father Murray, the other two nuns and Conor weren’t far behind. Uncertain where they’d go, Liam knew there wasn’t much time to get away. He had to think of somewhere fast. He wasn’t sure if his da would be willing to take so many mortals to the Other Side, but he didn’t see much choice. The Peelers were sure to think of covering the back of the warehouse soon enough.
“Stop right there!”
Lifting his gaze from the tarmac, the sight of ten Fallen clustered in a semi-circle brought Liam up short. Most of them hadn’t bothered to disguise themselves—their burned, cracked skin, hunched backs and flaming eyes were unmistakable. Among their number was the big blond named Jensen. Liam’s chest tightened. He heard Frankie gasp. The stench was awful, and Liam was glad he wasn’t stuck in an enclosed space with them. In the shadows behind the tallest, Liam sensed the presence of another entity but couldn’t get a good view.
Frankie stumbled beside him and whispered, “What the fuck are those things?”
“Fallen angels. I’d recommend keeping quiet and not drawing their attention, if I were you,” Ginny said in a low voice.
“I’ve been thinking about what I’d say to you when we finally met without disguises or ruses,” the tallest Fallen said. “I’ve been thinking for years.”
“Don’t believe a damned thing that creature says,” the black nun said.
Liam’s eyes narrowed. “The Peelers are here,” he said. “The time for the big speeches is done, don’t you think?”
The tall one’s appearance flickered between various parishioners from St. Agnes’s in Belfast and St. Brendan’s in Derry. “The priest isn’t the only one who’s been watching you, half-breed.”
“Who the fuck are you? And what do you want?” Liam asked.
“As you have most astutely pointed out, we’ve unwelcome company on the way.” The creature stepped forward. Its movements were a cross between a bird’s and a lizard’s. Graceful and halting at the same time. Its head twitched to the side. “You may call me Samuel.”
“That isn’t who you are,” Conor said.
The creature calling itself Samuel rattled off a string of Latin that Liam didn’t understand. The sound of Samuel’s words did unpleasant things in Liam’s mind, turning his stomach and stirring up rage, terror and violation. Shuddering, he swallowed a need to retch. Next to him, Frankie bent double and coughed. Ginny clamped her hands over her ears. None of the words made sense. Liam had never learned Latin. He’d had enough trouble with Irish and English. However, he recognized one word from the masses he’d attended as a child. It was “angelus.”
Conor said something in Latin and then shrugged. “Go on, then.”
“I’m here to make you an offer,” the creature called Samuel said.
“Me? Why?” Liam asked, still struggling with anger. “I’m nothing. A fucking half-breed Fey. Aye?”
“They wish to bring an end to negotiations between the Church and the Fey,” Conor said. “You’ve caused them considerable worry with your truce.”
“True enough,” Mary said.
Samuel glared at Conor, and Liam braced himself for another long string of foul Latin. “What would you say if I told you I could give you back your wife, half mortal?”
“I’d say you can’t,” Liam said.
“You don’t really believe that, do you?” Samuel asked and made a motion with his hand. The figure that Liam had sensed moved from the darkness behind the row of Fallen. It was Mary Kate.
The sight of her standing in the ordinary car park hit him like an army Saracen. For a moment he couldn’t breathe and all the blood in his body drained to his feet. He was cold, and all the weariness and hurt descended upon him at once.
“Liam?” Dressed in the torn white dress he’d seen before in his dreams, she held out her arms. “Is that you?”
He’d taken five steps toward her before he knew it.
“Don’t!” It was Father Murray. “It’s not her! It can’t be!”
Liam stopped. “He’s right. It isn’t you.” But the denial was uncertain in his throat.
“It’s me,” she said.
“All we ask,” Samuel said, “is that you walk away. Do this, and she’s yours again.”
“What’s the catch?” Liam asked. “There’s always a catch with you lot. Isn’t there?”
Samuel paused.
Conor said, “I told you it wouldn’t work.”
“Conor, what’s going on?” Liam asked.
“We’ll be together,” she said. “That’s all that matters.”
“Will we?” Liam asked.
“Decide. Now,” Samuel said.
Liam felt he was being torn apart. He knew she couldn’t be real. It wasn’t possible. He took another hesitant step toward her and reached out. He wanted to touch her to be sure.
One more time.
One more time.
“No!” Samuel swung a powerful hand at Liam.
But it was too late. Liam’s fingertips brushed Mary Kate’s cheek. Her skin was ice-cold and gritty like ash. He got the sense of filthy feathers and his nose filled with the stench of rot. Mary Kate’s mouth opened, producing a piercing raptor scream. Then Samuel’s fist rammed into Liam’s face, sending Liam stumbling backward.
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