To Kill An Angel (29 page)

“I’m sure that wouldn’t hurt,” Bo agreed.

“Since Ridley’s pretty juiced up, you and I could run into that small patch of woods to the north and see what we can scrounge up.”

I gritted my teeth and kept my expression as blank as possible.  Bo looked at me, the tiniest bit of hesitation on his face. 

“I’m sure you don’t want to go.  Will you be alright here for half hour or so without me?”

I wanted to growl, but I didn’t.  I wanted to cross the room and slap Annika, but I didn’t.  I wanted to taunt Bo and say that if I got hungry while he was gone that Cade would take care of me.  But I didn’t.  Instead, I plastered my brightest smile on and said the only thing I could.

“I’ll be fine.  You go and have fun.”

A frown flickered across Bo’s smooth brow, but it was gone nearly as quickly as it had appeared.

“You’re sure?”

“Positive.”

“She can supervise meal preparation for the human and the visually impaired people in the house because, I assure you, Devon can’t cook,” Savannah chirped.  “Provided that there is some sort of food here, of course,” she added.

She raised her eyebrows in question, her blank eyes staring straight ahead.

“I’m sure there’s something.  Sebastian did have to feed Lilly after all.  And he kept up pretenses for a while, so…”

“It’s settled then.  You can tell a poor blind girl what’s for dinner.”

I stood and grasped the hand that Savannah held out expectantly.  Bo stood as well, walking behind us as I guided her toward the kitchen.  When we stopped in front of the huge pantry, Bo whispered in my ear.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

I turned back to look at him.  I looked at the face that haunted my world day and night.  I looked at the unease that was written there, plain for all to see, and I couldn’t bear it. 

What began as a smile for Bo’s sake quickly became sincere.  I felt it melt my icy disgruntlement like the sun melts fresh snow and, with it, Bo’s reservations.

“I’m sure.  Just come back soon.”

Bo was so sensitive to me—to my moods, to my feelings, to my needs—that he knew this time I was truly earnest.  I should have known that he couldn’t be fooled by my earlier acquiescence.  I should have known that he would quickly surmise that it was feigned.

“You know I won’t stay away one second longer than I have to.”

“I know.  Promise me you’ll be careful,” I said, an image of a hell hound popping, unbidden, into my head.

“I promise,” he pledged.

He planted a tiny kiss on the tip of  my nose and then he was gone.  With Annika.

Pushing that irritating thought aside, I focused on my friend and on enjoying her company while I could.  My gut told me that a storm was coming and the only one I could think of would likely mean the end of…well, me.

Pickings were slim so Cade and Savannah were just finishing up some macaroni and cheese when Bo and Annika returned.  We went over the game plan one more time before we left Sebastian’s house and set off across town.  We made our way toward my house and then beyond, toward the barn where I’d watched Trinity take her last breath and Aisha lose her head.  Literally.

Devon carried Savannah the whole way.  He said he’d prefer to do that than risk the car.  I could only assume he was having bad flashbacks of the four of us being attacked in his car not so long ago.

When we arrived at the edge of the field in which the barn sat, we watched the area for at least fifteen minutes and didn’t see a single thing. 

“The door’s fixed,” Bo observed after it seemed that there was no activity in the vicinity.

“What?” I asked.

“The door.  To the barn.  Remember, it was hanging off its hinges when we were here last.”

I looked again and, sure enough, the door was no longer resting, skewed, in the door frame.  It hung straight and secure.

“Well, now we know someone’s been here.”

We all watched the barn silently for several more minutes before beginning step two.

The next phase of Bo’s plan involved Bo setting off to skirt the property from one direction, Annika the other, while Devon, Savannah and I continued to watch the barn for any signs of life, be it vampire, hell hound or some other guardian-type of creature.

Several minutes later, they both returned with an all-clear, neither having seen any sign that the barn was being guarded or even monitored.  I found that particularly odd considering who was supposed to be inside the barn, and when I looked at Bo and saw his frown, I realized that he felt that something was amiss, too.

“Maybe they haven’t put her in the barn yet,” I said quietly to Bo.  “I mean, it’s not like I can really tell anything about time or date in those visions.  And you didn’t get close enough to smell anything, did you?”

“No, I stuck to the tree line around the field.”   He turned to Annika.  “Did you?”

“I stuck to the tree line, too.  That
was
the plan after all, right?  Don’t get too close and alert anyone to our presence until we secure the perimeter?”

“Yes, it was.”

“Could we have been wrong?  Maybe it’s not a trap.”

Bo’s frown deepened.

“No, I still think it’s a trap.  I’m just thinking now that there’s something or someone waiting for us inside.”  I could see the wheels turning as Bo studied the barn.  “Alright, let’s go ahead with the plan and check around the barn.”

Bo, Annika and I darted across the dark field to the barn.  Annika went around one side of the building, Bo and I the other, and we met on the back side.  Annika shook her head, indicating that she saw nothing amiss.  Bo did the same.  She went back around the way she’d come, as did we, and we met back where Devon and Savannah were waiting, near a small stand of white pines that hovered at the field’s border.

We collected them in order to complete the next scouting portion of the plan.  All five of us quietly circled the barn, hoping that if there was someone around that we couldn’t see, that Savannah might.  When we’d made our way around the entire barn and Savannah saw nothing, Annika circled to the front of the building as we rounded the barn to a small door in the back, effectively covering both entrances.

Stopping in front of the aged panel, I brought Savannah around in front of me and guided her face to a crack in the door so that she could scan a portion of the interior of the barn with her blind gaze.  When she shook her head indicating she saw nothing, I urged her aside and stuck my nose up to the crack, inhaling as deeply and quietly as I could.  I let the myriad smells of the barn wash through my sensitive nasal passages and I picked the scents apart one by one.

The barn smelled of musty wood, moldy hay, dirt and oil.  The odors were so strong that I nearly missed the hints of baby powder, shampoo and strawberry jam in the air.  But when I finally recognized them, my heart sped up.  Lilly was inside after all. 

Turning my ear to the crack, I listened as closely as I could manage.  I heard no scuffling sounds, the sounds a child would make playing in the dirt.  I heard no trace of her delicate sing-song voice.  I heard no shallow breaths or rapid heartbeats.  I heard nothing but an eerie, worrisome silence.

Two things occurred to me in that moment.  One I refused to consider.  I absolutely would not—could not—even entertain the notion that Sebastian had killed Lilly, that she was lying inside, cold and dead. 

The second thought should have been a concern long before this, but I’d never imagined much past getting rid of Sebastian in order to pretty much save the world.  I’d not considered life afterward, primarily because I would likely not be a part of it.

But what about Lilly?  What would become of her after all this was over?  I would likely be dead, the man she thought was her father would be dead and she’d be all alone, some sort of hybrid creature in a world that didn’t understand her and probably didn’t want to.

I leaned back and looked at Bo, trying my best to keep the panic out of my eyes.

“Bo,” I whispered, barely loud enough for him to hear.  “Will you promise me something?”

He looked immediately concerned.  I could hide nothing from him.

“Anything.”

“If something should happen to me, promise me you’ll take care of Lilly.”

Bo stepped forward and grabbed my face in both hands, looking deep into my eyes.

“Nothing’s going to happen to you.  Do you hear me?”

I nodded, trying to smile reassuringly, but I was pretty sure that I failed miserably.

“Promise me anyway.”

“Ridley—”

“Please, Bo.  Promise me that you’ll take care of her.”

“I promise.  We’ll take care of her together.”

Satisfied that he at least knew my wishes, I turned back to the barn door, took a deep, steadying breath and lifted the old wooden slat that held the panel closed. 

The barn door creaked as I opened it and we all stopped to listen for sound and movement.  We heard nothing, however, so Bo, Savannah and I filed quickly through the door, Devon staying behind to guard the entrance so that no one could sneak up and trap us inside.

Savannah and I hugged the wall to the left, Bo hugged the wall to the right and we all made our way around toward the center of the barn where Lilly should’ve been playing. 

Only she wasn’t.

When Savannah and I moved behind a huge and presumably defunct hay baler and appeared on the other side, I got my first glimpse of Lilly.  She was wearing the same clothes I’d seen her in, soiled in exactly the same way, but she wasn’t playing in the floor like I expected.  She wasn’t even sitting up.  She was lying on her back, perfectly still.  Her tiny hands were crossed over her motionless chest, her eyes were closed and, as far as I could tell, all signs of life were absent.

I gasped, resisting the urge to go to her.  Instead, I looked to Savannah.  She was moving her head back and forth in a scanning motion, trying desperately to get a glimpse of anything but her customary blackness.  I assumed that her silence meant she saw nothing.

When Bo appeared on the other side of the barn, directly across from where we stood looking at Lilly, he shrugged.  I shrugged in return and shook my head. It appeared that the coast was clear.

“Savannah,” I whispered, “nothing?”

“No,” she answered softly.

Immediately I rushed to Lilly’s side.  I fell to my knees and raised my hand to her cheek.  It was cool and soft.  I pressed my fingertips to her throat, praying for a pulse.  Much to my dismay, I felt nothing.

“No, no, no,” I breathed as I leaned over and put my ear to her chest.  I saw Bo approach and come around to the other side of Lilly’s motionless body.

At first I heard nothing but the heavy silence around me.  It rang through the barn like a death knell that couldn’t be heard with the ears, but rather with the heart.

“Omigod, Lilly no!” I cried quietly, icy fingers squeezing my chest in a vise grip as my hands raced over her small body in search of anything that might signal life.

It was then that I heard the low, sluggish thump of a single heartbeat.  Encouraged, I put my ear to her chest again and heard the swish of blood as it poured through her veins in one long pulse.

“She’s alive,” Bo declared.  “But just barely.  I don’t know what he’s done to her, but at least she’s still alive.”

“We need to get her to the hospital then.”