Lost In Time: A Fallen Novel (27 page)

“You know what would be good? If I could wake you without being stabbed in the shoulder,” Marcus snarled his anger from his words earlier, his affection being unreturned, and his inability to get through to her, only to have her stab him.

“I’m sorry, Marcus,” she said, leaning back on her heels.

“Yep, sorry. Great, makes it all better, Celeste. Thanks.” He pulled himself to his feet and moved to the back of the plane where the attendants were sitting and talking. They immediately jumped up when they saw him.

****

Celeste followed him, only to see the two pretty attendants doting over him like he was going to drop dead any second.

“How could this happen?” the blond one asked pouting her big full lips and batting her simple brown eyes.

“Too close to the end of a sword, sweetheart. Make sure you don’t make that mistake,” Marcus said with no emotion.

The other stewardess giggled. “Not the kind that would slice you open like this. What type of barbarian carries a sword like that? An accident was bound to happen,” she mewled, pressing gauze to his shoulder.

Celeste had seen enough. She was a barbarian. No, not a barbarian; a god damned Demon. From a line of Demonessess that had been banned to Lust because they were a scourge to the mortal and immortal population. She sat down and pulled her legs up. Wrapping her arms around her legs, she looked around. How had she gotten here? What had pushed her to want to save the world from Calliope? She had nothing to prove. She should be sequestered in the Infernos right now, letting the real warriors fight it out. But nooo, she wanted to be part of the action, was sick of hiding from the worlds. She desperately wanted to be heard and seen, not just as a Sex Demon, but as a person with a soul. Regardless of the fact she shared the blood of a Reaper and Sex Demon, she was a person with a soul.

Marcus stomped up and took the seat across from her. “Buckle up, we’re landing.”

“I’m sorry,” she said again, but he only waved her off. She pulled her seat belt on and swallowed passed the lump in her throat. She forced herself to look out the window at the lights of the city blinking in the darkness of the night. This is where she belonged; in the darkness of the night and they all knew it. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have stabbed the man she loved or spent the day making love to him instead of planning an attack that would rid the world of Calliope.

Celeste felt her stomach tighten into a ball. She had been told her entire life she was an abomination. But for the first time in five hundred years she actually felt like one. The plane bounced to a stop and as soon as the doors opened she scrambled out, wanting to get just a little distance between herself and Marcus. Where she could think straight. She really should have known better.

There was no warning, just the gently brush of black wings against her throat and the quietly whispered, “Sister.”

“Stay on the plane,” she screamed as she rolled away, catching her elbow on the stairs. She thanked the gods she had been the first one off the plane. Because the stairs she had been standing on blew into a million different pieces.

Another wing flew out, as the black feathers whipped across her face, and Calliope knocked her from her feet. It felt as if someone had splashed acid in her face, and she screamed out in pain.

“Victor,” she called as Calliope took flight. Celeste rolled under the plane as she came out on the other side she searched the darkness above her. She was hoping to draw his attention away from the mortals and Marcus.

He came out of nowhere, dipping down from the dark sky and knocked her off her feet, just as three Flashes surrounded her.

Victor picked her up. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, just scratches.” She searched the night sky. Christian and Garrett did the same. Then they heard Marcus’s bellow, and the screams of the women on the plane.

“Destroy everything,” Victor said to Christian.

“Wait, Marcus is in the plane.” Celeste took off toward the door, but Victor stopped her.

“Do you really think he is going to survive?” The screams of the dying echoed from the inside of the plane.

She yanked her arm free of Victor’s and headed up the steps anyway before she slipped and fell. When she made it to her feet, she didn’t even recognize the inside of the plane. Blood was splattered against every surface.

A head of one of the stewardesses rolled down between the seats, causing bile to rise in Celeste’s throat. And then the plane shock, and Marcus came flying through the air. She stepped into the path of his body, taking the brunt of the impact, she rolled with him.

He looked at her, his eyes bleary with pain. “Get out,” he gurgled, blood spilling from his mouth. Calliope stomped down toward them, and she pushed Marcus out of the plane and grabbed the sword, swinging it without thinking. She clipped Calliope on the shoulder.

He shrieked and backed away. “Why?” he accused, actual hurt filling his eyes.

Celeste eyes bulge. “Look around you. That is why,” she shouted. Swinging the sword again, she advanced on the Reaper.

“But they were mere mortals, nothing. And the Fallen? He is two steps away from a Reaper himself,” Calliope argued. “You touched him with the sword.” He laughed.

Celeste stabbed at him, burring part of the sword in his leg. “These are souls,” she shrieked. “They must be allowed to make the choice in life.”

Calliope laughed at this statement, and Celeste stopped backing him up, still holding the sword up. “They did make the choice, sister. They just chose the wrong side.” He touched his chest. “And now they belong to me.”

With that he turned and burst through the back of the small plane. As soon as he was out of sight, she ran from the plane.

Marcus lay on the asphalt face down. “Is he—” she choked on the words.

Victor snorted. “No, but I knocked him out and erased his memory of the events.”

“Why?” That didn’t make any sense to her. Marcus was on their side.

Victor nodded for her to follow him, which she did, and found claw marks and scratches embedded into the back of the plane. “Calliope caught a ride.”

“He’s getting closer to me,” Celeste said.

“Yes, and I don’t think Marcus is going to appreciate that much. Plus, Christian, Garrett and I are going to stay until we can corner him. Marcus needs to be unaware of this.” Victor looked down at the Fallen.

“Christian, take care of anyone in the tower. Garrett, blow the plane, and make it look like it had an accident landing.” Celeste felt terrible, she was causing more problems than she was solving.

“Victor, this is getting more and more complicated.” She wasn’t sure if it was possible to achieve their goal anymore. “I was taught to fight. But to lose so many of those I cared for.”

Victor pulled her into his arms. “Now is not the time to question. We are in the eleventh hour. And we know he won’t fight more than one or two of us at a time.”

She pulled away from Victor and she knew her heart was in her eyes. “Have faith, little one.”

She nodded. “Celeste,” he said her name more seriously now. “Marcus looks as if he has been in a plane crash and he will heal quickly.” She looked over at him lying unconscious and then back to Victor.

She rolled her eyes. “Do I have to actually be in the damn thing when Christian blows it?”

Victor smiled. “No, but close. Garrett will have your flank. I don’t think Calliope has a read on him yet. Christian and I will be close, and of course Marcus because he’s done such a damn fine job up to this point.”

Celeste rolled her eyes again and hit her brother. “He is doing the best job he can considering the circumstances.”

It was Victor’s turn to roll his eyes. “If you say so.”

“Ready,” Garrett called from somewhere in the dark.

Christian stepped up and smiled, which was something rare. “Do we get to blow her up now?”

“This isn’t funny,” Celeste snarled at her brother.

“Neither was the beating you gave me a month or so ago. So pardon me if I stand back and watch,” he said with Christian-style sarcasm. He moved into the shadows and disappeared.

“He needs help,” Celeste said, walking forward with Victor.

“Don’t we all.” Victor sighed. “This should be close enough.”

She hugged him. She would survive, she was almost positive.

“I am one word away, and we will be close,” Victor whispered, and then he melted into the shadows as well.

She took several deep breaths. This was going to hurt, damn it. The light was the first thing she saw; a flash so brilliant it burn into her eyes, and then the concussion of the blow hit her, picking her up, debris flying by cutting and imbedding into her skin.

She was out before she hit the ground.

****

Everything hurt. Marcus rolled over, sucking in air, and he tried to figure out where the hell he was.

The last thing he remembered was telling Celeste to put her seat belt on.

Celeste!

He pushed himself to all fours and looked around. The plane lay burning and in pieces. Celeste was several yards from him. He crawled over to her.

“Sweetheart.” He touched her face gently. “Celeste.” He patted her face.

She moaned and then sat up abruptly and called out in pain. “Gods that hurt.” Then she fell back down. Rolling into a ball, she held her stomach.

“What the hell happened?” Marcus asked

“Calliope,” Celeste moaned. “I saw him out the window as we were landing. He rammed the plane.”

Marcus staggered to his feet. He heard sirens in the distance and knew they needed to get out of there but, Ricky and his daughters were on the plane, and he had to make sure they had made it out.

Ignoring his injuries, he tried to get close to the crash but saw no other bodies. Pain swelled in him, Ricky was a good guy’ and Marcus had pulled him from the gutters of drunkenness when his wife had died of breast cancer twelve years ago.

Now Marcus had killed him and his daughters in one fell swoop. He felt horrible, but knew his mourning would have to wait. Turning back to Celeste, Marcus found her still on the ground.

“Celeste, the police are coming. We need to get out of here.” She waved him off.

“Don’t care, let me die here.” Marcus rolled his eyes and turned her over, then gasped when he saw the large piece of shrapnel from the plane imbedded just above her right breast.

“Dammit Celeste, why didn’t you say something?” he barked.

“Hurts,” she gurgled, spitting out blood.

He picked her up, cradling her in his arms. He headed toward the hanger where he kept a SUV. The way she was acting made him think that part of the metal had pierced her lung. He wasn’t about to pull it out, but he knew someone that would be able to.

He laid her on the backseat. “I’m going to take you to a friend.”

She grabbed his hand. “I live in the Infernos,” she muttered. “And I’ve been hurt here more than there in the last five hundred years. I want to go home,” she said quietly. He almost missed it, but the words cut into him like a knife.

He climbed behind the wheel. He only had scratches and a bump on the head. She was impaled, and just wanted to go home. But he didn’t know if he would ever be able to let her go. He wasn’t going to tell her that. He needed to get her to trust him completely first.

It took an inordinate amount of time to get to Evelyn’s, and Celeste had passed out half way through the trip. He pulled up to the security box and pressed the button.

A very British and proper voice replied. “May I be of service?”

“I need Evelyn, is she in residence?” Marcus asked trying to be calm.

“She is, however at this late hour I fear I am unable to disturb her.”

Marcus wasn’t in the mood to play this game. “You have exactly five minutes to tell Evelyn that Marcus is here and needs help. At the end of those five minutes if these gates haven’t opened, I will break them down and come up there and beat the holy shit out of you.”

There was no answer so Marcus looked down at his watch, exactly four minutes and forty-three seconds left.

“Marcus,” Evelyn came over the speaker as the gate buzzed and started to open. “What do I need?”

“Plane crash, one wounded.” And then he floored it, driving down the lane as fast as he could.

Evelyn was waiting with the door open. She was a beautiful, dark-haired gypsy he had known for several hundred years. This century she had decided to become a doctor and worked days saving lives at the local ER. But at night she saved the lives and worked on the Other population.

She waved him to stay in the vehicle and climbed in the back seat. “Drive around back. I’ve had a little clinic built there with everything that I need,” she said as she bent over Celeste.

When he pulled up to the entrance a gentleman stood there with the door open and a gurney. “It’s a good thing you didn’t pull it out, it’s punctured her lung.”

She motioned for the man to pull Celeste from the car, but Marcus pushed him out of the way and gently picked Celeste up before he laid her down. She moaned. “I want Victor.”

Marcus actually looked around. Every time she had asked for Victor before, he had appeared. But nothing Flashed and they wheeled her into the clinic.

“Wait here.” Evelyn motioned to a small waiting area.

“No,” Marcus said. Evelyn gave him a hard look and shook her head before she led them into a room that would rival any ER. Just as Celeste woke up, with strength he wouldn’t have imagined, she vaulted off the gurney and into the corner as far from everyone as possible. Blood was starting to trickle down her brow, and he realized that she also had a head wound.

“What the hell is going on?” She wobbled on her feet, catching herself against the wall.

“Celeste, the plane crashed. You’re,” Marcus said calmly. He held up his hands and took a step toward her.

Celeste looked at him and then down at the piece of metal protruding from her chest. She gasped and yanked it out as both Marcus and Evelyn screamed no.

Her wound made a sickening sucking sound, and she tried to take a breath, but it only made the sucking noise worse. With what she was sure was the last of her breath she muttered, Celeste said, “Victor, god damn it.”

Victor caught her as she fell to the floor. Marcus snarled at the Reaper. “You couldn’t have shown up half an hour ago?”

“I was busy,” he snarled back, holding Celeste close. Marcus saw them both take deep breaths. Victor shuttered.

Celeste didn’t open her eyes when she spoke. “I love you.” She put her arms around her brother, and Marcus knew she was out again as her body went limp.

Victor glared at Marcus. “How many times are you going to get my sister killed?”

“She isn’t dead, you dumb ass.” Marcus snapped.

Victor nodded. “Okay, let me put it this way, how many times are you going to put her life in such danger so if I don’t show up she will die? Is that better?” he bellowed.

Marcus got right into Victor’s face, leaning over Celeste to do it. “You and your brothers and father put her in danger. Let’s not forget that part.”

“But it was you and your friends that let Calliope out in the first place. She would be safe and sound in the Infernos right now if it wasn’t for that,” Victor bellowed, his eyes bleeding to black. “She is the most beautiful, kind and strong creature in any plane and she has spilt more blood in the last week on this plane than in her entire life in the Infernos.” The words cut at Marcus because they mirrored what she had said to him at the airport just an hour before they hurt all the more.

Victor gently placed Celeste back on the gurney and turned back to Marcus. “One job, Fallen. One simple fucking job: protect her until she finishes her mission. Is it possible to do that without killing her?”

His words hurt, but Marcus wasn’t about to admit it. “Get out,” Marcus growled. “You healed her, now get out.”

Victor shook his head and Flashed out.