Page 40 of Hunted by the Fallen
And now that I know they are fighting the Darkness in the world, I am even more willing to help. “Take me to mypatient.”
Lukas leads me down the hallway. We enter a parlor, not a bedroom like I’d expected. I note the tile stained with fresh blood and the agonizing moans of the Fallen soldier lying on the other side of the room. He is stretched out on an upholstered chaise longue. Maroon stains cover the fabric, ruining the expensive piece offurniture.
But a chair is replaceable. A Fallen Angel isnot.
I cross the room in ten steps. Matted hair and smeared blood cover the angel’s face. It might be better thatway.
I observe the deep puncture wound just beneath his left rib cage. I recall the spleen is located just under the last rib, thankful I haven’t forgotten everything from my anatomy class during junior year. I can seal the wound with no problem, but if he punctured the organ, more power will be required to heal the damage and clear any residual toxins from hisbody.
I focus on the Angel Fire deep within my chest and guide it to my fingertips. I know I’ve succeeded when my finger pads begin to glow softly. Then, my hands illuminate. I’m getting faster at drawing on my power. Soon, Lukas suspects I will be able to summon it with one simple thought. No focusrequired.
I shift closer to the injured angel. His complexion is a sicklygray.
“This may hurt a little,” I murmur. Not waiting for a response, I touch the tender flesh just around the puncture would, cringing at the discomfort I know I am about tocause.
But it is me whosuffers.
Searing pain travels up my arms and lands in the space below my ribs. I gasp and think Lukas is using his powers on me again, but one glance confirms he is on the other side of the chaise, watching the injured male before he feels my attention onhim.
“Veronica?” Concern fills his voice as he sees my face. “What isit?”
My tongue feels swollen. I cannot form words. I feel like I can’tbreathe.
I almost remove my hands from the angel, but I abandon the idea the moment I look back at his nasty wound. Forcing myself to ignore the pain, I push Angel Fire through my fingers and into the Fallen’storso.
The angel arches, as the brunt of my power enters his body, but he doesn’t scream. Sweat gathers on my brow, but I don’t dare wipe it away. I maintain contact and push wave after wave of my power into him. I imagine the flesh of the delicate organ fusing back together. I picture his blood running clear of harmful enzymes and toxins. Time is lost to me. I’m not sure how long I work, but I refuse to stop until I know every last cell isrepaired.
Finally, I see muscles stitching themselves, creating an invisible seam as the skin is repaired. His gray pallor turns to a healthy pink. I withdraw my hands, and my arms shake from the effort. My legs wobble as I attempt to step back, and I don’t try to stop them from folding beneath me. I sit on the floor beside the chaise, struggling to catch mybreath.
“Is it done?” Lukas asks, still standing behind thecouch.
“Yes.” I use my t-shirt sleeve to wipe the sweat from my face. “He should wake soon.” The angel has lost consciousness. No doubt, it was the only way his body could endure the pain of the healing. I could use a nap myself. That was, by far, the most exhausting healing I’ve ever performed. Not even Charles’ wings had been more difficult. I wonder if that’s because I’d had Lukas’ powers pushing me toact.
Tension releases from Lukas’ shoulders, and he whispers, “ThankGod.”
I want nothing more than to leave the parlor and seek comfort in one of Lukas’ many guest rooms, but I can’t leave the angel in such a filthystate.
“Can I get a tub of warm water?” I ask Lukas, already leaning forward to unbutton the ripped shirt from my patient. I’m relieved when my touch doesn’t immediately cause another stab of pain. “I want to wash the bloodaway.”
“Uh… I think it may be best if youleft.”
I look up, my fingers holding onto a button and the damaged clothing. “Why?”
Lukas shifts, and I see his eyes dart to the door. Is he waiting forsomeone?
Before I can voice the question, loud footsteps echo throughout the parlor, seeming to appear out of thin air. “Where ishe?”
I freeze. I know thatvoice.
Slowly, I look over my shoulder and confirm that Joseph, my protector and ex-teacher, is stomping through the room with a cloud of fury trailing after him. I gasp and turn backaround.
Crap.
“Where is he?” Joseph demands again when no one answers. For one second, my heart almost stops when I think he is there to find me. But I realize he must be talking about the angel in front of me. Is my patient his friend? The possibility makes me glad my treatment was sothorough.
“Right here,” Lukas motions to the Fallen in front of me. I inch backwards, keeping my face forward as Joseph closes the distance between us. He gazes down at the angel’s dirty face, standing no more than two feet fromme.
My eyes snap up to Lukas, silently pleading for him to help me. It’s a small mercy Joseph hasn’t noticed me yet. I’m hoping he can transport me out of the parlor before I lose thatadvantage.
