The Flame Never Dies (16 page)

Eight feet from my kneecaps.

I didn't realize I was screaming until the car's engine died, leaving only the soft ticking from beneath its hood and the near-paralyzing sound pouring from my throat.

“Nina!” Someone was getting out of the driver's side of the car. He wore a dark cowboy hat and jeans. “Nina!” he shouted, and I stopped screaming just as the passenger's- side door opened. Anabelle climbed out and slammed her door, and by the time she had folded me into a hug tight enough to squeeze all the air from my body, I understood that the car's driver was Eli.

A thick white bandage peeked beneath the brim of his hat on the left side of his head.

For a moment I could only stand in shock, and after a second Anabelle stepped back to hold me at arm's length. “Nina, are you still…you?”

I cleared my throat. “Still me. Are you…you?” I asked, and Anabelle nodded.

“Where's…Melanie?”

“Meshara,” I corrected. “The same demon that killed Micah. She's in the SUV.”

Anabelle's eyes watered and she covered her mouth in horror. “Nina, I'm
so
sorry.” She'd known Mellie since the day my sister had started kindergarten.

I nodded, numb in the face of her grief. “All that matters now is the baby.”

Eli's eyes narrowed as he studied our wreck. “What happened? Is she…incapacitated?”

“Kind of. She crashed the car, and…,” I started to explain, but then my gaze flew back to Anabelle. “What about him? Is he still himself?” I was pretty sure I knew what she'd say, considering they'd been driving alone together for hours, but I had to ask.

“Yeah. He has a concussion, and he was unconscious for several minutes, but Finn confirmed that it's still him.”

“Finn.” I blinked. “Where is he? Where's everybody else? Are they okay?”

“They're fine. They went after Grayson last night,” Eli said, and an unexpected wave of disappointment washed over me. I wanted them to save Grayson. It made sense that they'd go after her first.

Yet the truth was that I also
really
wanted Finn to come for me. I wanted him to be so worried about me and so enraged to have lost me that he couldn't
not
come after me, even if he lost the vote.

But I understood why he hadn't.

Eli took off his hat and wiped sweat from his brow, his fingers brushing the edge of the bandage. His gaze kept straying back to the wrecked SUV. To whatever he could see of the monster who'd killed his brother and my sister. “Finn wanted to come after you,” he said, and I realized he'd read the disappointment on my face. “But Maddock said that Kastor wouldn't allow either of you to be possessed before they got you to Pandemonia, because that would render you useless as bait. Then Reese said
you
are better able to protect yourself than Grayson is. And that even as a demon, Melanie's speed would be hampered by the pregnancy.”

I tried to swallow my dismay and deny how badly my arms wanted to wrap around Finn. How badly the rest of me wanted to be held by him. How badly I wanted to hear him tell me everything would be okay, even though Mellie was dead and the baby had no soul and…

Wait.
Meshara and I weren't alone anymore. Ana and Eli could take care of the baby once I was gone.

Tears filled my eyes again, and I swiped at them before they could spill over. Mellie's child would live. But I would never see Finn again.

“They were right,” I said before Anabelle could try to comfort me. “About all of it.” Yet Meshara's hampered speed had nothing to do with the pregnancy. “Are you two alone?” I looked past them to the car, which appeared to be empty.

“Yeah. We left first thing this morning,” Anabelle said. “As soon as Damaris was sure Eli was well enough to travel. She wouldn't let him sleep more than an hour at a time because of the concussion.”

Meshara had taken no such precaution for me.

“I'm glad you're okay,” I said, glancing at each of them, but my gaze returned to Eli. “And I'm even more glad that you found us when you did. I need some help.” I headed back toward the SUV, and they followed. “How did you find us?”

“You and Grayson were carried off in different directions, but we knew the destination was the same for you both.” Eli jogged to catch up with me. “We took the most direct route and figured—worst-case scenario—we'd beat the others to Pandemonia and wait for them a couple of miles from the gate.” He shrugged. “Then we found you in the middle of the road.”

“Sorry for almost running you over,” Anabelle added. “We didn't recognize you at first. We thought you would have made it to Pandemonia by now.”

“We probably would have, if not for that.” I waved one hand at the totaled vehicle. “And that.” I opened the door wider and motioned for them to peer inside just as Melanie's stomach began visibly contracting again. “The baby's coming. And that's not even our biggest problem.”

Eli took one look at Meshara, then removed his hat and dropped it onto the driver's seat. “How long has it been?”

“We're not sure, but the contractions are three minutes apart. I think she's getting close.”

“Anabelle, go get my backpack and as many bottles of water as you can carry.” Eli turned back to me. “That's the quietest contraction I've ever seen.”

“Yeah. She's a real champ.” Sarcasm dripped from every word, and he gave me a sympathetic smile.

“I'm so sorry about your sister.”

“I'm sorry about your brother. And your cousins. And your stolen horses. And the blunt force trauma.” I glanced at his bandaged wound. “
So
sorry.”

“Who's there?” Meshara slurred, and Eli glanced at me in surprise as Anabelle jogged back toward their car. “Nina? Who's talking?” The demon was looking in our direction, but her eyes remained unfocused.

“It's Eli. He and Anabelle found us just in time.” Although, truthfully, I would have considered them equally on time if they'd arrived at any point during the previous day.

Eli frowned as the trunk of the car behind us squealed open. “What's wrong with her?”

“She's blind. And nearly deaf. She can't taste anything. And she can't feel anything. Which is why we're witnessing the quietest labor in history.”

“Wait.” He ducked to peer into the vehicle again. “I don't understand. She can't feel
anything
?”

“Only some pressure in her pelvic floor, but that's just in the past few minutes. And she's
totally
blind,” I repeated for emphasis.

“Uh-oh.” Eli turned back to Anabelle and waved to hurry her. She jogged back and set the bag at his feet, then handed me a bottle of water while she opened another for herself. When she'd drained half the contents, Eli held his hands away from his body, and she poured the rest of the water over them slowly while he rubbed his hands together, rinsing off all of the surface dirt.

When the water was gone, she dug a clean rag from the bag, then patted his hands dry. “Do you have any sanitizer?” he asked as I dug through the supplies I'd laid out on the backseat. I squirted a generous amount onto his left palm from an aloe-scented bottle, and Eli rubbed his hands together again while Anabelle and I helped Meshara out of her pants.

“What's happening?” the demon demanded, shouting as if we were the ones going deaf.

“Eli's going to examine you!” I shouted back.

“What's with all the yelling?” Ana asked as she helped Meshara lie on her back, then positioned her bare feet up on the headrests.

“She's losing her senses,” I explained. “All of them. As near as I can tell, it's some kind of disease that only affects demons.”

Eli placed one hand carefully on Meshara's stomach, then began the rest of his exam, and I turned away, content to once again be relegated to the role of aunt—for however long it would last.

“I've never heard of a demon disease,” Anabelle said. “How do you know it only affects the Unclean?”

“Because no one else has any symptoms. Melanie was fine before she was possessed, and then a couple of days after Meshara took over her body, food started losing its taste and smell. After that, her skin began to go numb. Today she lost her sight and most of her hearing, and that part happened
really
fast.”

“Okay.” Eli turned toward us, wiping his hands on the clean cloth. “She's nearly ready to push,” he said, and warring threads of fear and joy tangled inside me.

It's normal, Nina,
I told myself.
Someone
always
has to die for a baby to live. Donating your soul is an honor.

The Church had been right about
that
much. Right?

At least you'll get to see the baby first….

But suddenly I was scared.

No, I was
terrified.

“Let's hope it goes quickly.” Eli repositioned Meshara's foot on the headrest. “We're losing daylight.”

“
Can
she push?” Anabelle asked. “I mean, if she can't feel the contractions…?”

Eli shrugged. “I'm hoping she's only lost the
feeling
in her muscles, not the use of them.”

“So…now what?” I glanced from Meshara to Eli to the sun as it slipped deeper toward the western horizon.

Eli gave me the first smile I'd seen since “Mellie's” fake labor had foreshadowed the real thing more than twelve hours earlier. “Now we wait for the next contraction. And get ready to meet your sister's baby.”

I had a clean towel wrapped over my arm and a knife in my pocket. I was ready to say hello
and
goodbye.

“P
ush!” Eli shouted, and I echoed the command inches from Meshara's largely useless right ear. Having decided that I didn't need to actually
see
the miracle of birth, I'd taken up a position of support at her back, against the passenger's-side door. I sat sideways on the bench with one leg folded on the seat, and between contractions Meshara leaned back against me.

Her hair still smelled like Mellie. She looked like Mellie. And she was about to deliver Mellie's baby. Those subversive facts worked against me emotionally, even though I knew I was holding a demon. Cheering on a monster.

“Okay, stop!” Eli yelled, and I repeated the command into her ear. She still felt no pain, but she'd started to sweat, a clear indication of the effort her body was expending.

“When he was in Tobias's body, Aldric said the same kinds of things,” Anabelle said, continuing our discussion of Meshara's mysterious illness between contractions. A discussion that kept me from dwelling on the purpose of the knife in my pocket. “He only took one bite of the chocolate Reese gave him the day you exorcised him. He said it didn't taste right.”

“I remember. He couldn't feel his bumps and bruises either. Or that burn from the campfire. It's safe to assume he was infected with whatever Meshara has.”

Eli's gaze was still trained on Melanie's stomach. He'd been amazing through the whole thing, though surely nothing in his life with the Lord's Army had prepared him to deliver a demon's baby, from a body that couldn't actually feel the birthing process. “But he never went deaf or blind, did he?”

“I'm guessing he would have if he'd spent much more time in Tobias's body,” I said. “The incubation period seems to be about two days. Meshara's been in Melanie's body for six or seven days now—”

Eli looked up sharply. “That long?”

“Yes, and she appears to be near the end phase—total loss of all sensory input.”

“You think this is actually fatal?” Anabelle asked. “I mean, she seems fine, other than the obvious.” Being completely cut off from the world through the loss of every sense she should have had.

“At the very least, it will lead to demons starving themselves, either because food is no longer appetizing or because they can't feed themselves when they can't see, smell, or feel their food.”

Eli glanced at Meshara again as if to confirm that she couldn't hear us. “This disease, or virus, or whatever it is…it seems to be taking away everything demons want from the human experience. I'm guessing that's more than coincidence.”

“I think it was engineered. By the Church.” I looked up at Anabelle. “Is that possible? Do you know if the Church has the kinds of facilities that would require? The kinds of doctors? Or scientists?” We'd all been led to believe that kind of technology—anything not required for a general medical practice—had been either abandoned or destroyed after the war.

Ana nodded slowly. “They've been actively—if quietly—recruiting science graduates from the universities since long before I was ordained. Rumor has it they kept parts of the Centers for Disease Control up and running after the war, to be sure they could protect what's left of humanity from illness, which is honestly the last thing we need, after everyone we've lost to the demon horde.”

Though the truth was that we'd been losing humans and their souls to demons for centuries before the war began. We just hadn't known it.

“It's down south in Miseracordia,” she added. “Which used to be called Atlanta.”

“So it's possible, then?” Eli said. “They could have made a disease that would…what? Take all the fun out of possession?”

“I think we're well beyond just ‘not fun.' ” I gestured to Meshara for emphasis. Her head was propped on my shoulder, her eyes closed. Her breathing was normal and unlabored. She was literally experiencing nothing between contractions during the most intense moments of childbirth. “The Church figured out how to isolate demons in our world just like they're naturally isolated in their own world. Total sensory deprivation.” Thinking about that, I suddenly understood why some demons—and presumably some humans—might rather feel pain than feel nothing at all.

Anabelle frowned. “But the Church is
run
by demons. Why would they develop an illness that would target their own population?”

“Here we go again.” Eli glanced at Meshara's stomach, and I looked down to see it convulsing. I leaned toward her ear—the right was still functioning a little better than the left—and shouted for her to push.

“I think
Kastor's
population was their target,” I told Anabelle as the demon bore down against a pressure she could no longer feel. I couldn't believe the change in Meshara. In the span of a few hours she'd gone from fiercely fast and deadly to disconnected and virtually helpless. “I've never heard of anyone—Church members or civilians—suffering from anything like this, in New Temperance or anywhere else. Not that they would have reported that on the news.” That would have made the Church look powerless in the face of a scary new illness.

“But surely those of us
in
the Church would have heard about it,” Anabelle said. “And I don't understand how they could be sure Kastor's people would be infected but the Church's wouldn't.”

“They
couldn't
be sure,” Eli said. “Unless their members were never exposed but Kastor's people were. Targeted exposure. Like biological warfare in wars of the past.” He looked up and nodded at me.

“Okay, you can stop for now!” I shouted into Meshara's ear.

“How much longer?” she said, each word soft and slushy.

“Getting close!” I shouted, without bothering to verify that with Eli.

“How would they target a specific population?” Anabelle asked.

“They'd need a delivery system.” Eli leaned against the back of his seat so he could see all three of us. “Someone to carry a vial of the virus—or something exposed to it—into Pandemonia.”

I glanced at him in surprise, and Eli shrugged. “It's been done like that in the past. Our textbooks are more than a century old and unedited by the Church.” Which meant he'd had history lessons my teachers would never have let me hear.

Anabelle frowned. “If that's their plan, how did Meshara get it? How did Aldric?”

“Double agents?” Eli shrugged. “Maybe one of them was supposed to carry the vial but it broke and they got infected?”

I shook my head. “Meshara said she's never even been in a Church city.” Which could have been a lie, but I was unconscious for hours, and…“If she's loyal enough to Kastor to resist possessing me on his order, why would she bring a vial of some deadly poison right into the heart of his community?”

“It's not actually deadly, though, right?” Eli said. “Wouldn't anyone infected in Pandemonia just ditch the diseased host for a fresh one?”

“Yes, as long as there were fresh ones available.” The fact that we were all conscious was the only thing keeping Meshara in Melanie's compromised body. I closed my eyes, trying to follow Eli's thread of logic back to the Church's intentions. “But then those fresh bodies would just get infected. Eventually there wouldn't be any healthy hosts left in Pandemonia. And based on how fast this thing has reduced Meshara to a senseless bag of bones, ‘eventually' is starting to sound more like a week or two, tops. After that, where would they go?” I opened my eyes to frown at Eli. “Is Verity the only city near Pandemonia? How close is it?”

“It's about a day's drive. So they could theoretically get there in time to find fresh hosts.” He sat up on his knees again when he noticed Meshara having another contraction. “Tell her to push. We're almost there now.”

I coaxed my sister's killer through another round of pushing, and Eli announced that he could see the baby's head. Goose bumps popped up all over my arms, and my heart got stuck in my throat.

Melanie's baby is almost here.

My eyes filled with tears, and suddenly her death seemed terribly, unbearably real, because she would never get to hold her child. She would never even get to
see
the baby she'd carried for all those months. Her last connection to Adam, who'd died just because he'd loved a girl whose last name was Kane.

The baby would have to make do with an aunt who was too much of a wimp to watch the business end of its birth. An aunt who would have less than an hour to spend with the precious new miracle…

I wiped tears from my eyes before Eli could see them, and I refocused my attention.

“Even if Kastor's people could get to Verity before they went blind, there's no guarantee they could get inside the city,” I said. “If the Church is really behind this, officials in Verity would see that coming. They'd be fortified, and willing to do anything to keep the virus from spreading.” My eyes widened as the potential fallout sank in. “When they're out of fresh bodies to hop into, demons would have to leave our world on their own, or live in useless bodies until they starve and then get sucked out of our world en masse.” Which was surely exactly what the Church had intended. “They've come up with a plague that will cause a
voluntary
evacuation of demons from our world, and they
cannot
afford for it to backfire on them.”

“Okay, I understand that,” Anabelle said, when that round of pushing had ended. “But I'm still not sure how Meshara got the disease if the rest of Kastor's people haven't. She'd know if they were sick in Pandemonia, right?”

Meshara's shock and terror over her own predicament felt real, and I couldn't help but believe she'd never seen anything like what was happening to her. “Meshara thinks she got it from us,” I said. “Both she and Aldric were fine until they came into contact with Anathema.”

“You escaped from New Temperance, right?” Eli said, and I nodded. “So maybe the Church sent something contagious into the badlands with you, hoping you'd infect the degenerate population.”

“I think Kastor was their goal,” I said, thinking back to the report I'd read and the hatred in Deacon Bennett's voice when she'd mentioned him. Suddenly that memory triggered a chilling realization. “Holy shit. Kastor
was
their goal. Deacon Bennett actually said she
hoped
Kastor got his hands on us!”

“Yeah, but she didn't mean it like that,” Anabelle said. “She was just kind of…cursing us. Like when I used to tell my little brother that I hoped the monsters under his bed got him in his sleep.”

“Except that Kastor is real, and the Church really hates him. They're scared of him. What if she
wasn't
just cursing us?” I blinked, and for a moment I saw not the interior of our wrecked SUV in the rapidly darkening badlands, but the inside of the New Temperance courthouse, from which Mellie, Finn, Anabelle, and I had made a miraculous escape.

“What if we didn't truly escape? What if they had
let
us go? What if they had pretended to play into our hands so we could ‘escape,' knowing Kastor would come after us?
Relying
on that very thing? Think about it.” I counted off the points on my fingers. “They knew Kastor had been raiding their caravans, specifically looking for exorcists to be used as hosts. They knew he had taken Carey James—Grayson's brother—for that very reason. And they
have
to know that the citizens of Pandemonia have been watching their television broadcasts since…forever. Which means that announcing on the news that Anathema had escaped into the badlands was like ringing the dinner bell for Kastor. The Church didn't have to send its virus to Pandemonia. They just had to plant it on us somewhere, then let us go. They
knew
Kastor would do the rest of the work for them. And they were right.”