Flame Unleashed (Hell to Pay) (13 page)

She loved the rare times when he slid into Elizabethan slang. “How are you feeling?”

He chuckled until paroxysmal wheezing took over. After a few moments of coughing, he sagged into the mattress. “Like hell.”

“What happened in the hotel?” Odie asked.

Barnaby cleared his throat and winced. “Your Lord Jerahmeel showed up, spewing something about getting rid of me so he could have you all to himself, my dear. That odious creature has gotten madder over the years, I daresay.” He inhaled through his nose, puffing the air out of his mouth. “He’s right. He technically didn’t touch me. He pointed a finger and zap, incredible fire in my chest.” He panted until he could speak again. “It was like a hot clamp squeezing my body shut. I never knew he could do that.”

“For how long?”

“Not long, as you came in right after he began. I fear I’d be dead if he’d continued.”

“Are you still in danger?”

“If I’m alive and you’re paying attention to me and not him, then yes, I’m in danger.”

“He’s a sick bastard,” muttered Odie.

“He’s getting worse,” she agreed.

“You’re both right.” The muscles of Barnaby’s chest and neck strained to drive air in and out. “I have a bad feeling about where things are going with Jerahmeel.” He wheezed. “And my instincts have been correct for almost 500 years.”

Barnaby paused to catch his breath again. His jugular veins were distended more than halfway up his neck, and Ruth fought to mask the dread that threatened to swamp her. Heart failure. She glanced at the monitor’s display of an increasing heart rate and decreasing oxygen levels, understanding the results but wishing to be ignorant of the medical facts.

As she opened her mouth to comment, he lifted a hand and dropped it back to the bed as though he no longer could raise it.

Odie slipped her hand into his with a gentle squeeze.

Barnaby puffed a few more times. “I originally didn’t like the idea you presented yesterday, Odie. But I’m starting to see its merit.”

“Thank you, my friend.”

“You cannot be serious.” She didn’t buy Odie’s wide-eyed, innocent expression one bit. He might be sexy as all get out, but this particular harebrained idea contained no hope for success.

He leaned toward Barnaby. “This is our best opportunity to finish Jerahmeel once and for all. It might protect humans as well as release our kind from their hellish contracts.”

“And if it fails?” She clenched her teeth so hard her jaw ached.

Odie’s grasp on her hand tightened, both reassuring and dangerous. “How could our existence be worse?”

“It could be plenty worse.”

“My dear, consider it,” Barnaby whispered.

“No. I’m sorry. I won’t do it.” She pulled her hand free of Odie’s grasp and scrubbed at her face. “Barnaby, you’re still alive. Jerahmeel might torture you even now. If I make him mad, he’ll hunt for those who are most vulnerable. What about Peter and Dante and their families? They’re all mortal.” Horror washed over her as tears burned. “If Jerahmeel would attack Barnaby, what’s to say he won’t go after other humans? I won’t put our friends at risk.”

“Peace, my dear. No one will force you to do anything.” Barnaby closed his eyes with a sigh.

Odie knelt next to the hospital bed. A muscle jumped beneath his beard. “So that reminds me. Would you like us to notify anyone that you’re here? Maybe Peter and Dante?”

“That would be kind of you. But you don’t need to trouble them. They’ve both been through so much. I do love them like my own sons.”

“I believe they’d want to know what’s happened,” Odie said.

Something sharp twisted in Ruth’s chest. She bit the inside of her cheek.
Keep control. Do not fall to pieces.
She wrapped her hands around the gurney side rails.

Barnaby’s blue eyes snapped open again.

“If anyone can stop him, it’s you and Odie, my dear. Just know that I believe in your strength. In your powers.”

She gasped. Her powers? How did he know? She’d never told anyone. Not even Barnaby. And she’d never used her power around him.

And now Odie raised his eyebrows. Damn, he hadn’t missed Barnaby’s oblique comment.

“Why don’t you rest?” If she didn’t relax her grip, she’d bend the metal bed railing. With effort, she let her hands fall to her sides.

Barnaby smiled. “My dear, I know much more than you realize. And while I’m thinking of it, have Odie do a little of his genealogy research for you.”

“I have no family left.”

“You’d be surprised.”

“What do you mean?”

“Not for me to say. As for your secrets ... not mine to share ...”

He drifted back to sleep as his pale, wrinkled lips relaxed. Whether he pretended to sleep or not, Barnaby needed his rest and possibly a miracle.

Odie hovered at her side. His ice-green gaze searched her and she shivered, but he wouldn’t get any information out of her tonight. She resisted waking Barnaby to ask how he knew about her power. Later. It would have to wait until later.

Ruth felt all of her 150 years of age. “I’ll go with him to the ICU. Do you have Peter and Dante’s numbers?”

Odie nodded. “They haven’t been human long enough for me to delete from my emergency call list. But I need to get on my computer at home and pull up the encrypted file. I don’t like you being here alone.”

“I’ll stay with Barnaby. Besides, I can’t imagine Jerahmeel would try anything where there are so many witnesses around.”

“Possibly. But he’s getting more erratic.”

“I’ll be careful.”

“Please do. I’ll return as soon as I’m able.”

His caress down her arm to her hand triggered a gut-deep shudder. Then he lifted her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to her tingling fingers.

“Stay safe.”

“You too,” she said.

When she turned back to Barnaby, she could swear the corners of her old friend’s mouth had curled upward.

The clock read 3:00 a.m. Peter and Dante would arrive by this afternoon.

Unfortunately, they were bringing their women, increasing the security risk. So Odie put two of his unhuman colleagues on alert. All of the Indebted knew Barnaby, either personally or by reputation. No one wanted him to be a victim of Jerahmeel. Help was easy to find.

But Odie had to avoid flooding New Orleans with the Indebted. Not only would the local kill rates go up, but each kill with a blade would alert Jerahmeel of the increased concentration in this area and raise his suspicion.

They all had to be careful, so very careful.

When Odie had gone home for a few hours to access the database and make arrangements for his friends’ safety, he had also started the new genealogy program on his computer. In the past, he’d used the program to keep track of his progeny, but he changed the input to generate a new family tree.

There were only three Ruths who matriculated from the few nursing schools right after the Civil War. He pulled up archived graduation photos, and lo and behold, there she was with her high cheekbones and serious expression, her hair pulled up into a high bun topped with a neat white cap. Even in the grainy photo, she appeared ageless and elegant. And foolish in the 1870s, since she used her married name for this first diploma. He hadn’t known her full name until now, but the image staring back at him in the faded photo was unmistakably Ruth.

After he traced that information back to her family in Maryland, the program began to populate the family tree. A few comments in archived family diaries and letters piqued his interest.
Mon dieu
, was this the mystery that Barnaby hinted at, a pattern perhaps? Something to do with his comment about her powers?

Damn it, Odie needed more time.

But he had to get back to the hospital. This research would have to wait.

Even if he floored it, it would still take over an hour to drive the sixty miles from Thibodaux to the hospital. Too far to run, even for an Indebted. Besides, running risked detection, so he saved that Indebted skill for special occasions.

For now, he craved Ruth’s calm presence, needed to see her lovely face.

Why? Revenge on Jerahmeel, of course. The possibility hung like a fruit, tantalizingly out of reach.

To accomplish his revenge, Odie had to convince Ruth to join the mission. She was the lynchpin in the scheme; she could gain access to the lair of He Who Should Be Destroyed where no one else could.

What would it cost to convince her?

What would it cost if she said yes? How could he consider risking her life?

At noon, Odie arrived at the ICU waiting area. Families sat in small groups, holding hands, heads bowed, as subdued murmurs filtered through the tense atmosphere.

In the corner of the room was Ruth, her elegant hand pressed to her forehead, features carved in stone, the very picture of isolation. The twinge in his chest wasn’t due to sympathy. It was because he knew precisely the feelings behind her expression. He had survived loneliness so profound it had changed the man he was.

As he approached, she looked up and a wan smile animated her sculpted face.

“How’s he doing?”

“Worse. He’s in and out of consciousness now. They’re considering putting him on a ventilator.”

“Oh no.”

“I asked them to hold off intubating him. I don’t believe he’d want to live that way.” She pierced him with a bleak, hazel stare. “What do you think?”

“I’ve known that stubborn man for hundreds of years, and I agree. You did the right thing.”

He sat next to her on the vinyl loveseat, ignoring the loud creak. She didn’t move.

“Want to talk?” he asked.

She stared straight ahead, neck muscles working as she swallowed. “No. Thank you.”

“Well, then I’ll stay here with you until Dante and Peter get here.”

“They’re coming?”

“Left this morning. Chartered a private jet. Should be here soon.”

“Alone?”

“No, Peter’s wife and Dante’s fiancée are with them.”

“But Allie just had the baby.”

“They don’t care. They’re coming. Remember, you’re not the only one who loves Barnaby.”

Her creamy cheeks colored. “I know. Of course it’s their right to see Barnaby. But they’re all in danger here.”

Although the Indebted never required sleep, they sometimes enjoyed it. So it surprised him to see the deep circles beneath her gold-flecked eyes. Whether it was weariness or suffering, he could only guess.

He took her elegant hand in his and enjoyed the briefest pleasure when she didn’t pull away. “I tried to make the women stay home. No one wanted to hear it.”

She leaned forward, elbows on her knees, chin on her fists. “What if Jerahmeel shows up?”

“I have a plan B.”

“Oh?”

“There are some of the Indebted from nearby states who will come here to keep watch—over everyone, if necessary.”

“Wow.”

“Barnaby has garnered a tremendous amount of respect over the centuries.”

“I had no idea.”

“He loved you,
chère
, that’s for sure.”

“He’s not dead.” Her intense scrutiny indicted him.

Ducking his head, he said, “Of course. I’m only saying that I can tell how he responds to your care. You’re like the daughter he never had.”

She sighed and pushed back the heavy fall of dark auburn hair. Odie caught himself before he reached out to do the same.

Ruth sighed again. “I knew logically that he’d be gone at some point in time. Didn’t think it would be this soon, in this manner.”

“As you said, he’s not gone.”

“I know enough about medicine to recognize a critical situation when I see it.”

They sat for several hours, talking about nothing at times, sitting in silence at others. Occasionally, Ruth would go to Barnaby’s room for a few minutes. Each time she returned, the circles beneath her eyes deepened. All of her pain manifested on her lovely face. There was nothing Odie could do but be present for her.

“Ruth?”

A familiar baritone voice at the door of the waiting area drew her attention.

Never did she find herself so pleased to see such a meathead. Dante Blackstone entered the room, filling it with his presence. Even now, in his human state, he was still huge. He tempered his booming voice, but it nevertheless overwhelmed the space, causing others to look up.

“Hi, Dante.” After giving him a quick hug, she peered around the room. Waiting family members glanced up at them. “Maybe we should go someplace else and talk?” This mountain of a blond man attracted attention wherever he went.

“Of course.” He winked.

They filed out into an alcove at the end of the corridor and were met by Hannah, Dante’s petite fiancée. When he stood behind the strawberry blond and folded her into his arms, the contrast between her fragile frame and Dante’s big limbs reminded Ruth again how close to death Hannah had recently come. Behind her rectangular glasses, fatigue lined Hannah’s gold-flecked, soulful brown eyes. Her cheeks remained too hollow, even a month recovered from her ordeal.

Nearby stood Peter, whom Ruth had met when he delivered medical supplies to save Hannah’s life. The woman next to him must be Peter’s wife, Allie. With her light brown hair pulled into a ponytail, nothing hid the glow of love for the infant sleeping in her arms.

Peter had done it. Broken the Indebted curse, found the love of his life, and created a family. An unheard of outcome for an Indebted. Previously unheard of, until Dante repeated the feat, that is.

Swift jealousy stabbed Ruth in the temple until she shoved a smile in place.

Decorum, like a suit of armor, encased her, insulated her.

“Thank you all for coming,” Ruth said.

“Barnaby’s important,” Peter replied.

The lines on Peter’s face and glints of gray in his dark, close-cropped hair testified to the fact that time had begun to pass for him now. Mortal now for over a year.

“Ruth, this is Allie and our daughter, Emma.”

Although Peter was a calm, controlled man, his protective stance as he hovered behind his wife spoke volumes. Barnaby had hinted at some of the suffering Peter had endured to save Allie’s life and transition himself to mortal. If the pride on his face as he gazed upon his baby girl served as indication, the struggle had been worth it.