Light the Shadows (A Grimm Novel) (34 page)

Thomas shrugged helplessly. “If Natalie somehow found a way inside him … it might end her.”

“We don’t know that for sure!” Micah cried out.

“I’m pretty much dead already,” Sully said softly. The darkness within him was closing in, clutching at his brain. His heart thundered as it tried to crawl inside there as well. “I’ll bounce right back. You’ll see.”

Micah’s fingers loosened on the hilt, but he refused to release her. His other hand reached up to rest on her back. At first, his fingers caressed her skin then stiffened against her. Her body tensed beneath his touch, but she could do little to prevent what happened next. With the last bit of strength he owned, he pulled her down on top of him as if they were merely hugging. Her body drove the blade home.

Sully could do little more than gasp at the shockwave of agony that pulsed through him. Natalie’s presence seemed to scuttle away, to the darkest recesses of his mind. Had they managed to kill her spirit
, or had this all been for naught?

With a wail of anguish, Micah pressed her face against his shoulder and cried. Warmth spread from his chest as blood bubbled from the wound. Life ran down his side, past his ribs and onto the scuffed wooden floor.

Thomas tried to haul Micah off him, but she clutched at Sully’s shirtfront. Her face was a wet, blotchy mess. His blood soaked through the right side of her shirt, the material damp and clinging to her skin.

After a few moments, she sat up and caressed his face and hair. Her gaze roved over him, but refused to look at the dagger buried deep within his heart. He experienced trouble focusing on her as she continued to stroke his hair.

“I love you, Sully,” Micah said through her tears.

The darkness within him receded just a bit, but continued to scramble for a place to hide. Natalie’s presence leaked away as if she lived in the blood running from the wound. His heart quivered in spasm, protesting the cold metal entombed within it. Either that or he really was dying.

Just as quickly as she’d taken over, Natalie winked out of his mind. He gripped the hilt in his blood slicked fingers, but didn’t have the strength to pluck it from his chest. When he opened his mouth to ask, blood bubbled past his lips.

Thomas gripped the handle in one hand then yanked it out. The strange suctioning sound of the blade slipping from his flesh made Sully wince. Blood spurted out then ran beneath his body. Just how many times did he have to die anyway?

“Sully?” Micah asked, fear and hope battling each other in her voice.

His pained chuckle burst the blood bubble resting on his lower lip
, and it spattered Micah’s chin. “I think she’s gone.”

He was fading fast. The room and the people in it had begun to fade. Voices seemed to be distorted and distant as if his head was under water. As long as Natalie was gone, he’d accept this fate.

Micah’s fingers caressed his cheek as she leaned close to press a kiss to his temple. “I can’t lose you, James Sullivan. Not now. Not ever.”

Sully’s heart sputtered and attempted to heal. The pain of it sealing itself and forming new muscle and skin nearly sent him spiraling into the blackness of oblivion. Why did death have to hurt so damned much?

Micah’s lips rested near his ear. Her words carried a hot breath full of emotion. “Come back to me, Sully. Don’t you dare leave me.”

  His eyes fluttered shut despite his best efforts to keep them open. The heart inside his chest no longer sputtered. In fact, it had stopped altogether. He released the last breath held in his lungs and eased into nothingness.

He vaguely heard Micah’s cry of desperation.

Thomas’s baritone was muffled as his hands grasped Sully’s shoulders. He was dragged across the floor then lifted onto something soft. That was the last he remembered.

****

Later, when Sully awoke, he spotted Thomas kneeling next to a bucket of sudsy, pink water. He scrubbed at the floor with a cleaning brush and cursed as rivers of blood raced across the grooves.

Micah appeared from the direction of the kitchen, providing a new bucket and a mop. She swirled the mop across the floor, effectively sopping up the mess. She looked so heartbroken and exhausted. His blood still stained the front of her shirt and the knees of her jeans.

Using his elbows, Sully pushed himself up. His chest felt tight, each muscle feeling like it might pull apart at the seams. He stopped mid-motion to gasp for breath.

When Micah spotted him on the couch, she dropped the cleaning supplies then dashed toward him. Crashing onto her knees next to him, she smoothed hair from his face. “How do you feel, baby?”

“Like hammered dog shit.”

Micah reared back to stare at him, her eyes huge. When she saw the half-smile on his face, she chuckled then stood. “Do you feel like … yourself?”

Sully pushed up into a sitting position then touched the dark, stained hole in his t-shirt. “Yeah, I’m fine, doll. I told you I’d bounce back.”

She leaned forward to place a soft kiss on his cheek. “Rest while Thomas and I finish cleaning up.”

He watched her cross the room then squat next to his friend. Thomas glanced up at him and smiled
, then went back to talking to Micah. They spoke so low, Sully couldn’t make out what they were saying. Judging by the way they kept glancing his way, it had something to do with him.

Instead of trying to figure them out, he silently tested his mental acuity. There didn’t seem to be any trace of Natalie left within him. For that, he was thankful.

He sucked in a sharp breath as a headache began to form. Standing slowly, he held out a hand to stop them when Micah and Thomas tried to come to his aid. “I’m going to take a shower. I feel gritty and sticky.”

Sully glanced at the couch where he’d lain. The cushions were stained with blackish blood. “Sorry about your couch.”

“Go shower.” Thomas tilted his head toward the guest bedroom. “You know where everything is, and you still have clothes in the closet.”

Sully nodded to his friend then moved away. He heard Micah say, “Do you think he’s really okay? He’s been through so much.”

He gritted his teeth as he pushed the guest room door open. They talked about him as though he were a weakling. What made them think he couldn’t handle the things that had happened to him in the last few days? Ultimately, he shrugged it off, certain they didn’t mean anything by it.

Moments later, he stood in the shower and allowed the hot water and soap to cascade over his body. The headache had taken permanent residence
, though he’d hoped it would be eased by the hot water. He watched the last of the suds swirl down the drain before shutting the water off.
What didn’t kill you only made you stronger, right?

Toweling off, he stood in front of the bathroom mirror and examined his body. There was no scar to serve as a reminder that Micah’s dagger had pierced his heart. Only the old gunshot wound that he could never be rid of remained.

What was that? He leaned close to the fogged mirror then wiped away the condensation. He studied his face for a moment, searching. Perhaps what he thought he saw had been a trick of the light playing havoc in his mind. He’d just looked away when he saw it again. “What the hell?”

Pain sliced through his brain, the headache seeming to pulsate and spread. Something black flashed in his eyes as he leaned close to the mirror and gazed at himself. In his head, a girl child’s
giggle rang out.

Gripping the sides of the sink, he struggled to draw a breath. What the hell was wrong with him? Was she really back
, or had he been so paranoid about it, he’d tricked himself into believing?

Sully stared at his reflection, daring the dark presence to show itself. He didn’t know how long he’d stood there, gripping the basin and looking for something that might not even be there. Finally, he took a calming breath then took a step back.

A tentative knock on the door startled him, sending his heartbeat into his throat. Micah asked, “You okay in there?”

He laughed then turned away from the fogged mirror. He was just suffering from exhaustion, that’s all. There was nothing there, only him. He opened the door then looped his arms around Micah’s small frame.
So tiny. So easily crushed.

Micah stared up at him, love and relief shining from her pretty mismatched eyes.

Dropping a kiss on top of her head, he ignored the vicious whisper in his head. He nuzzled his nose deeper into her hair. God, she smelled good. “Take me home.”

Micah tipped her head back to look at him. “My house or yours?”

Fingers beneath her chin, he caressed her throat then lowered his mouth to hers in a gentle kiss. “Home is wherever you are, doll.”

She put her arms around his neck then stood on tiptoes to reach him. Her mouth closed over his
, and she penetrated the seal of his lips with her tongue. The kiss was wildly fervent as she pressed her body against his. One of her thighs nudged between his, and she cocked her hips just so. A low moan escaped him. Despite being tired as hell, his body responded to Micah’s touch.

What had begun as a heated exchange mellowed into a slow, meaningful kiss. He sucked on her tongue and ran his fingers down her throat to finger the crease between her cleavage. It seemed he couldn’t get enough of his beautiful Micah.

A flash of her bloodied and broken sparked in his mind’s eye. He gasped and broke their connection.
What the hell was that, and where did it come from?

Micah blinked up at him, worry drawing her brows downward. She rested her hands on his chest and grimaced at his thundering heartbeat. “What’s wrong?”

Sully took a step backward then ran a nervous hand through his hair. “Nothing, just tired I guess.”

She studied him a moment then said, “If you want to talk about it
—”

“I don’t,” he said in a rough voice.  His fists clenched at his sides as an overwhelming urge to push her aside surged within him. Instead, he skirted around her then busied himself by getting dressed.

Micah stared at him a moment then turned to leave the room. Over her shoulder she said, “I’ll wait in the other room.”

He knew his abruptness had confused and most likely hurt her feelings. The problem was, he didn’t understand what was happening either.

He said, “I’ll be right out.”

She nodded then returned to the living room where Thomas was still bustling about. Their voices carried through the small apartment, but he chose not to focus on their words. The last thing he chose to hear was Thomas questioning Micah about his wellbeing. She’d sighed
, and he swore he heard soft sobbing.

“Goddam it,” he said as he sank onto the end of the bed. He worked his feet into a clean pair of socks then put his shoes on. He sat there several moments, waiting and listening for any indication that she was still in his head. He heard nothing, felt nothing.
She was gone.

Standing now, he crossed to the dresser and examined his face. He looked the same, maybe just a little worn around the edges. Could it be that his mind had simply snapped beneath all the pressure and he’d imagined her voice?

He stepped out of the bedroom and saw Thomas and Micah sitting on the couch together. They sat too close and had their heads together, whispering. When he entered the room, Micah scooted away, and her cheeks flamed.

Thomas licked his lips then stood. “You okay, Sullivan?”

“I wish everyone would quit asking if I’m all right. I’m fucking dandy, okay?”

Micah’s hand flew up to her chest
, and her eyes radiated shock with a hint of disappointment. “Sully…”

“Maybe you need some time alone?” Thomas asked in the brotherly voice of concern. “You should take a moment to process.”

Sully’s gaze shot to Micah’s other hand, which had sought out Thomas’s. He squeezed it in return then helped Micah up. They were being awfully familiar with each other. Sully took a deep breath. No, he would not think like that. This inane jealousy was not like him.

He took a deep breath, mentally shook off any residual anger
, then crossed the room. “Sorry, that wasn’t cool. I know the two of you are just worried.” His gaze swept over their clasped hands, and he tamped down the irritation boiling within the pit of his stomach. The sooner he got them away from each other, the better.

The scythe lay on the low coffee table, just an arm’s reach away. Sully snatched it up then shot a glance at them. Their hands were no longer clasped. He allowed the weapon to return to its hidden place within.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Morning streamed in through the curtains in the bedroom, dappling the floor and the end of the bed with warm sunshine. Micah snuggled deeper beneath the comforter. Sully’s body was pressed against her back, one arm thrown over her waist. His warm breath caressed the back of her neck as he slept. There was nowhere else she’d rather be.

She sighed in bliss then nestled closer to him. His arm tightened around her
, and his fingers brushed her hip. Even in sleep, he refused to let her go. The slight tickle of his chest hair sent a shiver of pleasure rolling through her. She could definitely get used to this.