Faith Revisited (6 page)

“I know you do, Bale.” Remy sat across from Bale and leaned back into the chair. “You still beat yourself up over Lucifer's treachery. But the vow you made has not prevented it from happening again.”

Bale sighed, resting his head against the back of his chair and closing his eyes. “That's the bitch of it. I did trust all of them, and I never saw it coming.”

Bale's words genuinely surprised Levi. He stepped forward, his movement causing Bale to raise his head and pierce him with his gaze. He met Bale's eyes steadily until the other Watcher glanced away.

“I'm sorry I couldn't have told you more to save him,” Levi said, turning his attention to Remy. He referred to Caym but hoped to hell he wasn't also speaking about Zeke.

“What does
that
mean?” Bale asked, slowly rising to his feet.

It was Remy's turn to sigh. “He's saying he came to me tonight and told me he'd had a vision that Zeke and Raym were in trouble.”

Levi felt Bale's narrowed gaze but ignored him, keeping his concentration on Remy. “But I never saw Caym. And I don't understand why.”

Levi's comment gave Remy pause. “Could he have already been gone?” Remy asked, his voice cautious.

20

Madelyn Ford

Levi shrugged. He didn't want to jump to conclusions either, but his visions were the one thing he could depend on. They were never off. Sometimes they seemed obscure, especially if they involved him. But in cases like this, when a vision came through as clearly as the one he had tonight, it was always accurate.

“Did you see
me
?” Bale asked, his tone curious but holding a trace of wariness.

“No,” Levi said with a shake of his head. “I never saw the battle you were drawn into. But Zeke, I saw the whole thing.” Levi went on to describe his vision. An Alu demon had attacked the pair in the alley behind the Mercury. He and Raym had almost made it to Zeke's '67 Charger when the demon struck. “The demon's main target was Zeke, and at first he seemed to be trying to avoid Raym altogether. But Raym was relentless in his attack, forcing it to defend itself. The poisoned blade, though, it reserved for Zeke and Zeke alone. Luckily he only managed to nick Zeke before Raym dispatched the bastard.” Levi paused as he turned toward the wet bar, needing a drink of his own to finish his story. “The wound across his stomach was from his own blade,”

he finally said softly, releasing his confusion and fear into that statement.

“But how?” Bale asked hoarsely.

Levi only shook his head before he shot back a tumbler of scotch.

“There was someone else there, someone Levi could not see,” Remy replied, and Levi glanced over his shoulder at their leader.

Levi turned back to the pair as Bale asked quietly, “Raym?”

“No. Whoever it was had knocked Raym out. I could see Raym lying on the ground, and if Arak were to examine him, I bet he'd find a huge lump on the back of his head.”

“Another demon?” Bale continued to question.

“I told you, I don't know!” Levi snapped in return. Bale always had to push and keep pushing until his opponent cracked. But Levi was the type to push back, and he took a step toward Bale.

“Stop,” Remy commanded, stepping between them and halting Levi's progress. “It does not help to attack each other. We are not the enemy.”

“We're not?” Bale countered roughly, arching a brow at Remy.

“Damn it, Bale. I know you are worried about your female, but Levi is not out to hurt her,”

Remy stated, his tone softening.

“For the last time, she is not my female!” Bale bellowed, loudly enough to shake the stone foundation.

Levi gave a bark of laughter. “Keep telling yourself that.”

Bale moved around Remy with surprising agility, given how large a male he was, and grabbed Levi by the shirt. “What does that mean?” he growled.

Levi roughly knocked Bale's hands from him, saying, “Nothing that will help you come to terms with your destiny.” Then he pushed Bale away from him.

“What the fuck?” Bale hissed as he stumbled backward into the table.

“Not everyone is out to get you, Bale,” Remy said softly.

“No. Just one.” Then Bale stalked from the room.

Remy turned to Levi. “So do you really still think Bale's attack was only a distraction?”

The Watchers: Faith Revisited

21

Levi nodded slowly. “If I wanted Bale dead, I would not have sent an Alu demon.

Everyone in this fortress knows the only demon who stands a chance against Bale is an archdemon. So whoever is behind this treachery either does not have the cooperation of Lucifer or was not after Bale to begin with.”

“Levi, Bale does not really think it was you. But you understand why he would, don't you?” Remy asked quietly, resuming his seat at the table and taking a sip from his glass.

Levi collapsed in the seat Bale had just vacated. “I was third in command of Hell. Of course I am the most logical choice. But just because I understand does not mean I have to like it…or Bale.”

The corners of Remy's lips twitched. “You two are so damn alike,” he mumbled.

Levi rose to his feet. “Go to hell,” he said without rancor, then turned to leave.

“So who do you think it is?” Remy asked, his question halting Levi in his tracks.

Levi only shook his head. “I have my suspicions. But having been the recipient of a suspicious mind, I will not point the finger at anyone. Not yet.”

“All right, Levi. But I would appreciate some warning if that should change.”

Levi glanced back at Remy. “You will be the first to know.”

Levi left the room and stealthily moved through the keep until he reached Ridefort Tower.

He climbed the stairs slowly until he arrived at his rooms at the top. After he stripped off his clothes and climbed into bed naked, he folded his hands behind his head. His mind returned to the vision he'd had earlier, his attention centering on the hand that had delivered the wound to Zeke. There was something familiar about that hand, but Levi could not place it. Not with certainty, anyway, and it was bugging the hell out of him.

* * * *

As he slowly turned the parchment pages, he scanned the headings. So much death lay within its bindings, the life and death of those cursed to walk this earth relegated to one page each. Coming to the first blank page, Remy picked up the quill and, with a heavy sigh, dipped the tip in a bottle of ink.

Caym, brother of Raym.

The words flowed easily at first—his rank in the order, his history, for whom he had served from the beginning until now, and how he had met his end. All to memorialize a fellow Watcher within the
Book of the Fallen
. But Remy faltered as he ran out of factual notes. When it came to a personal notation, Remy was at a loss. Caym had been a member of the order and a fellow brother, but Remy had not known him all that long—only half a century, which in the grand scheme of things was hardly a moment in time.

He shook his head, deciding to leave it for now. Only Raym could truly honor his brother in a manner befitting one of the Grigori, so Remy lifted one end of the book, allowing the pages to fall. They stopped on the first page, and Remy read the words out loud.

“Saraknyal, wife and mate of Arakiel.”

He slammed the book shut and rubbed his hands over his face. His own wife's name did not lie within the pages, because she had been human and not a member of the Grigori as Arak's had been. But as with Arak, Dara had been his heart mate, and to this day, some fifteen thousand 22

Madelyn Ford

years later, he still believed he would find her again. For Arak, there was no such hope.

Saraknyal was lost to them forever.

The Watchers: Faith Revisited

23

Chapter Three

In the hall outside his room, Bale encountered Arak. Arak's eyes had a sunken appearance, and his skin had paled from its normal golden coloring. He looked wiped out, and Bale reached out to steady him when he swayed suddenly.

“You okay?”

Arak nodded, clutching onto Bale's shoulder for a moment. “Yeah. I just wanted to check on Faith before I turned in. I'll probably be out of it for several hours.”

“How's Zeke?” Bale asked quietly, knowing Arak had drained himself of every bit of available energy in trying to heal their brother.

“I think he'll make it. Luckily it was a small amount of poison, and I was able to drain most of it from him.” Arak closed his eyes wearily and sighed. “I'll keep him under for a couple days and check his progress. But I think he'll be okay.”

“Thank the Father,” Bale whispered.

With the barest of smiles, Arak nodded. “Indeed.” Glancing back at the door to Bale's room, he added, “She's doing well, Bale. If you can get her to feed again, it will help her immensely. She's entering the final stage of Transfiguration, and from what I understand, it can get ugly. I'm sorry I won't be of much help.”

Clasping Arak's forearm, Bale replied, “You just worry about getting Zeke back to one hundred percent. I'll take care of Faith.” As Arak returned the gesture of brotherhood, hand tightening around Bale's forearm, Bale felt reassured. At least some things were going to be okay. “Go to bed. You look like shit.”

“Thanks a lot,” Arak mumbled, giving Bale a friendly push away from him.

“Do you need help?” Bale asked, concerned as he watched Arak attempt to move down the hallway.

Arak turned to glance at him. “Now you're just insulting me,” he answered with a grin, pretending his hand was not braced against the wall to support him.

“As if that were possible,” Bale teased. Then he sobered, asking, “Are you sure you don't need help?”

“I'll make it, Bale. You need to be with Faith now. It could start any moment. And it will be painful. There will be convulsions, ones that make what you saw earlier seem like nothing.

She'll probably sweat profusely, feel incredibly hot to the touch, and she might get sick. Since I've never actually seen a Transfiguration, only heard about them, I can only guess. But I've been told it's a horrible process, both to watch and to endure.” Arak paused and shrugged. “I would guess probably more so to endure. She'll need you, Bale. If you can't give her anything else, at least give her this. A small measure of warmth might be all she needs to get through the horror.”

24

Madelyn Ford

Bale felt his stomach twist into knots. He'd hoped the female was on the road to recovery so he could move her from his room. He thought it would be easier to purge her from his life now, before she ever woke and he was forced to look into her eyes. But fate, the cruel bitch that she was, seemed inclined to have him suffer…again.

“Don't worry about Faith, Arak. I'll take care of her,” Bale said softly, turning with a sigh to face his bedroom door.

“Bale, you asked if it was worth it,” Arak whispered.

Bale glanced over his shoulder, surprised Arak would bring up Saraknyal again. She was a subject Arak avoided at all costs.

“If there was a chance in hell, I'd take it.”

Bale could hear the grief in Arak's voice and wondered how he could say such a thing.

Losing Saraknyal had damn near destroyed him. He couldn't understand how Arak would be willing to endure such pain again. It made Bale wonder at the difference between himself and Arak. Or even Remy. Because for Bale it had not been worth it. And it didn't make sense for the other two males to feel differently.

Bale opened the door and paused just inside the threshold. Faith lay curled around his pillow, her hair spilled around her like a river of fire. Bale's heart lurched in his chest, skipping a beat.

“Christ,” he mumbled, rubbing a hand over his face. He trudged into the bathroom to change out of his leathers. Vomit was a pain in the ass to dry-clean out. That he knew firsthand; Zeke couldn't handle his liquor worth shit. Keeping his T-shirt on, Bale substituted leather for black silk, then returned to the bedroom.

He took a seat across from the bed, watching her for any signs of distress. Seeing none, he eased back, letting his head fall against the chair. Against his will, his mind traveled back in time. He saw his wife, her easy smile, the light of her soul shining beautifully in her eyes. His small daughter, an exact replica of his raven-haired wife, stood by her side with one chubby hand fisted in her mother's as she sucked furiously on her thumb. The last memory he had of them.

Bale angrily brushed a tear away. He didn't want to remember. Just like he didn't want another female in his life. He jumped to his feet, intent on getting someone else—anyone—to see to the female's needs. He paused, a hand on the doorknob, when a soft cry penetrated his rage.

He glanced over his shoulder, and his gaze fell on her, and he cursed softly. She had begun to shake, sharp tremors that seemed to center at her spine and travel down her limbs. Her back suddenly arched, and she emitted a sound of such heart-wrenching pain, it sent shards of unease through his gut.

He rushed to her side and gathered her into his arms, hoping the contact would settle her as it seemed to have earlier. But it had no effect now. The spasms only continued to grow worse.

“Christ, baby,” Bale whispered hoarsely, “I don't know what to do.” He remembered Arak's words—that she would need to feed—and hoped it would help her.

Bale reached for his dagger, which still lay on the edge of the bed where Remy had dropped it, and used the tip to slice his forearm open. He forced her face to the wound, hoping the scent would entice her. “Eat.” When nothing happened, his fingers tightened in her hair.

“Please, baby. Eat,” he whispered urgently.

The Watchers: Faith Revisited