Ecstasy Unveiled

Thirteen

Lore didn’t think he’d ever enjoyed a shower more. Granted, he hadn’t been chained up for all that long, but he generally showered twice or more a day, and going without made him grumpy.

At least he couldn’t hear Idess yelling at him anymore.

He’d cleaned her up and then beelined for the shower, ignoring her curses and threats and demands to let her go. She’d quieted down for a little while, but about half an hour into his shower she’d started up again, loud enough that he could hear her shouts of “Lore, damn you!” even over the thunder of water.

“I’ll be right with you, Angel Food,” he called out, and braced himself for her furious response.

She didn’t disappoint, and though he couldn’t hear exactly what she said, the tone made it pretty clear that it wasn’t complimentary. She said something else, something that sounded like, “Heave a rock,” and that actually made him laugh. No doubt she’d like to heave a rock right at his head.

And she probably would after he took out Kynan.

The thought sobered him. Sin’s life was at stake, but so was Idess’s future. He shouldn’t care. Caring for her could lead to bad things. Like accidentally killing her, now that he wasn’t wearing Bracken Cuffs. Or like considering not whacking Kynan.

Fuck. The not killing Kynan thing was already tripping through his brain. Not that he wouldn’t do it. He would. But maybe he could put it off while Idess tried to find out who had ordered the hit.

Putting it off would be stupid. Procrastination always resulted in shit going wrong at the last minute. Always. But maybe he could—

Always.

But—

Always.

Dammit! Spewing the most vile curses he could think of, he shut off the water and toweled off. Sucked to have to dress in the same clothes, but it was better than nothing, and as he fastened his pants, Idess made an odd noise.

“Idess?” For a second, nothing. But in that second, her shower-washed words filtered through his head. “Heave a rock.” He glanced at his watch. Three o’clock New York time.

Three o’clock. Not heave a rock.

Fuck!

“Lore!” Her pained shout drilled into his brain as he blew through the bathroom door so fast the thing tore off its hinges. The nightmare that greeted him drew him to a halt more effectively than if he’d hit a wall.

Idess… on the bed… a Gargantua dagger buried in her shoulder. Sin was standing in the bedroom doorway, preparing to let a throwing knife fly.

“No!” He dove to cover Idess. An instant, searing pain ripped into his neck, and he dropped like a stone onto the bed, twisting to avoid crushing her. Blood splattered down around him, and he lifted a shaking hand to his throat. He knew what he’d find.

Sin’s throwing knife.

Her scream overtook the sudden pounding of his pulse in his ears. Sin wasn’t a screamer. This was not good. His vision swam and his hearing faded in and out and the next thing he knew his sister was right there, tears streaming down her face.

She wasn’t a crier, either.

This was way worse than not good.

“I’m sorry, Lore, oh, my God, I’m so sorry!”

“Hospital… Idess… too,” he gasped, but his words drowned in a stream of blood.

“Okay. Okay. Just hold still.” The fact that Sin so readily agreed meant that this was worse than he thought.

“Release me!” Idess’s tone was a command that should have ruffled Sin’s feathers. “I can flash him there.”

Sin didn’t hesitate. He heard the clank of chains, and then the next thing he knew, he was lying on the asphalt of Underworld General’s parking lot.

Idess was crouched beside him, her hand on his shoulder. “I can’t flash into the building,” she said, with a tremor in her voice, “and you’re too heavy to carry. I’ll be right back.”

He didn’t have the strength to answer. The life she’d said he had was draining onto the asphalt. He probably shouldn’t have cared all that much, but while he didn’t deserve for his brothers to save him, he really hoped they would.

Idess ran toward the sliding ER doors so fast that she stumbled over her own feet twice. The pain in her shoulder was nothing compared to the agony that streaked up her arm from Lore’s heraldi. He was dying.

Crying out, she held the dagger jutting from her shoulder as she ran. Blood seeped between her fingers and dripped to the ground, but she didn’t care. She burst into the hospital, and instantly, medical staff rushed toward her, but she gestured wildly toward the parking lot.

“Outside. It’s Eidolon’s brother. Get him. Hurry!” She didn’t allow anyone near her until Lore was wheeled in on a stretcher, a flurry of activity surrounding him. She didn’t understand much of the jargon the staff was using, but their tones and short sentences told her it was bad.

Then again, all she needed to do was look at Lore’s ashen skin and glazed eyes as he was wheeled into a trauma room to know that.

“We’ve paged Eidolon and Shade.” A female nurse guided Idess toward another room with a furry hand on her elbow. “And his arm is wrapped to prevent any accidents.”

“Good. Is… wait.” Idess halted. “Accidents? With his arm?”

“As I said, we’ve wrapped it. There’s no need to worry. The entire staff has been made aware of his condition.”

“And what condition is that?”

“You don’t know?” The nurse’s bushy eyebrows dove into a deep frown. “Anyone who comes into contact with his right arm dies instantly.”

Idess remembered his telling her not to touch his arm when she’d been cleaning him… was that why?

“Now, let’s take care of you. That knife isn’t going to come out on its own.”

“No.” Idess backed away from the Slogthu nurse whose underbite and patchy fur made her look like a scrawny bulldog. “I have to make sure Lore is going to be all right.”

“He’d better be.” Sin stepped out of the Harrowgate and marched toward her. “This is your fault.”

“Your blade is in his throat,” Idess pointed out. “Not mine. And I did bring him here for help.”

Sin’s fists curled into balls at her sides. “Just pray Lore makes it.”

Sin sank down in a chair and stared blankly into the room where staff was frantically working on Lore. He lay motionless on the gurney, blood pooling on the floor beneath him. A technician was squeezing the contents of an IV bag into him through a line in his left arm. Another was forcing air into his lungs through a mask and bag.

Please, God, let him live. A useless prayer, no doubt, given that he was a demon, but helplessness and terror had her desperate to try anything. Please don’t let me lose another Primori. Because that was her major concern. He was Primori, and if she lost him, she would never get into Heaven and earn her wings.

She was concerned only because he was her Primori.

The lie sat on her chest like an elephant, especially when one of the doctors stepped back to grab some sort of metal tool and she saw Lore’s hand dangling over the edge of the gurney. It was the same one he’d used to touch her. To pleasure her. And now it hung limp and lifeless, streaked with blood.

Idess’s chest constricted. Please don’t die.

His heraldi screamed with pain, as if someone was trying to scoop it out with a dull spoon. The excruciating pangs made her own knife impalement seem like nothing more than an insect sting.

Don’t die! She reached deep for the gift she shouldn’t use, the one that had the power to heal—or kill—and she never knew which it would do. But Lore was going to die anyway, so she could try it and hope for a positive outcome—

Eidolon exploded out of the Harrowgate. Thank God. If anyone could save Lore, it would be him. His hair was mussed and his shirt untucked and only half-buttoned, and he barely glanced her way as he raced into the room. Immediately, his dermoire lit up, and he was barking out orders and calling for an operating room.

Eidolon wheeled Lore out of the room, slowing just long enough to say to Sin, “I’ll keep you posted.”