Page 24 of Endless Terrors
We’d made good time on the road, but Emma and Damon had been hiding out in a town far closer to Granby, so they still beat us back. We had two days left until Lucifer’s deadline now. Two and a half if you counted tonight, which I did. I didn’t intend to sleep until my brother was safe again.
As I moved over the threshold, I noted that Emma must’ve made coffee recently, because its aroma clung to the air. There was something infinitely comforting about that smell. I lowered my bag to the floor, closed my eyes, and inhaled deeply, savoring this moment of stillness. Soon, Gil would come back from Adam’s, Finn would finish his hunt, and the real work would begin.
In spite of the terrible circumstances that had brought us here, it was good to be home.
Soft sounds came from Damon and Matthew’s room, pulling me from my thoughts. I opened my eyes and looked at the dark, open doorway that would take me to my brother. Emma had told me what to expect, probably hoping to make the moment easier. But there was nothing easy about this. No mental image to prepare me for seeing my little brother empty and still. There and not there. Everything that made him Damon—his sweet smile, that endearing cowlick popping back up every time he ran his hand over it—taken and locked away.
Halfway across the living room, I instinctively sidestepped the edge of the couch, where a certain kitten liked to hide and bat me with her paws every time I passed. When that didn’t happen, a wistful pang went through me. Thankfully, I’d gotten a hold of Cyrus during the drive, and he’d be bringing Hello over tomorrow.
I’d also texted Savannah and Mercy, telling them what had happened to Damon.
While my family continued the search for Lucifer’s Achilles heel, I needed help figuring out how to get Damon back. I wasn’t going to Hell, and he wasn’t staying under a sleeping spell. But now there was a clock on our search. Until today, I’d tried to avoid enlisting Savannah’s help, save for a cloaking spell and asking how to avoid magical detection when we’d first fled from Lucifer. She was already trying to gain a foothold in our lives, and any help I received from her felt like allowing Savannah to get another step closer. I knew I should want her to be involved, for Matthew’s sake, because no child should grow up without a mother.
No matter how hard I tried, though, I looked at Savannah and saw Fred getting ripped to pieces.
My thoughts moved to another person that I had spoken to during the long drive. While we’d been making our way through Iowa, I’d finally heard from Lyari. She hadn’t made an actual appearance, as I’d hoped she would. Instead, I had to update her through text. There was no point in keeping our communications limited anymore—not now that Lucifer was holding my brother hostage.
When I asked Lyari why she’d been AWOL for two days, my Right Hand stopped responding altogether.
We still hadn’t seen each other. She and Collith had been helping Emma move my brother, first from the bed and breakfast where they’d been staying when Damon collapsed, then from the car and into the loft. The second Damon was settled, Lyari disappeared again to discreetly resume hunting for new materials and witnesses. For anyone who had encountered Lucifer or knew how to neutralize him, if it could even be done.
Collith was stationed at Cyrus’s for the time being. He couldn’t be within earshot of our conversations, for obvious reasons, but there was no point in banishing him, either. Lucifer was well-aware of where we were, and having Collith’s heavenly fire on our side could come in handy if any of my other enemies decided to pay a visit. He planned to contact the faeries who were still loyal to him and send them my way if they had any information.
Laurie was back at Court, of course, but this time it was at my request. He was making careful inquiries about Lucifer, as well.
Everyone had a role, a purpose. The odds were better than ever for finding a solution to our Lucifer problem. Why, then, did I have a sinking feeling it wouldn’t be enough?
I finally reached Damon’s bedroom, and I faltered on the threshold. The first thing I saw was Matthew’s crib, which had been dragged closer to the bed. Through the bars, the swell of my nephew’s body was outlined in a beam of moonlight.
The next thing I saw was Damon.
“Wow,” I said softly. It was all I could think to say.
He rested in the center of the bed, covers drawn to his chest. Machines glowed off to the side, and tubes connected them to my brother. I followed those tubes to his face. There wasn’t much to see—most of it was covered by a mask. Above this, his eyes were closed.
Standing there, I was struck by a memory. A flashing image of a face, much smaller than the one in that bed, but still similar in so many ways. Stretched into a wide grin, big ears standing out on either side of his head. Come on, Fortuna. Get up. Let’s play a game!
My hand curled into a fist against the doorframe. I thought of the promise I’d made to that little boy.
“He’s as comfortable as we could make him,” Emma murmured, crossing the room. She’d been fussing with Damon’s covers. She leaned against the wall near me and rubbed her arm. “I called up an old friend, a doctor who retired years ago. I explained what we needed as best I could without giving too many details. Nancy won’t say a word to anyone, don’t worry. She put in a Foley catheter and a nasogastric feeding tube. The monitor is so we can watch his blood pressure, heart rate, and oxygen saturation. Oh, and his temperature.”
There was a concentrated expression on Emma’s face as she recited the words from memory. Watching her speak made emotion fill my chest, and it sent an ache through my heart.
“Thank you, Emma,” I said quietly, trying not to wake Matthew. My gaze moved from the crib, to the bed, and back to the woman at my side. All of them were paying the price for loving me, just as Mercy had once foretold. For a moment, guilt made it difficult to speak. I cleared my throat and added, “Not just for this. For … everything. I know it wasn’t easy, leaving your entire life behind like that.”
Emma gave me a shrewd look. Hearing, somehow, the words I didn’t say. “None of this is your fault, sweetheart. You didn’t threaten us or do this to your brother.”
“No, but I could’ve done more to prevent it. I shouldn’t have even let anyone move in here. Anyone close to me gets hurt. That’s how it’s always been.” Pain sharpened the edges of my tone. Unbidden, an image flashed through my head. Mom and Dad, standing on a dark beach, white-faced and afraid.
“Which is exactly what he wants, you know. The devil likes his victims isolated and scared. Being surrounded by people you love isn’t a weakness, Fortuna—it’s a strength.” Emma gave me a tender smile. Then she refocused on Damon and her eyebrows knit together. “Don’t think I’ll ever forget that sight, though. I didn’t even know the witches had him. I woke up before the rest of the house and made some coffee … then I looked out the window and saw our boy. They left him on the front lawn. There were rope burns on his wrists and ankles. The gouges in his palms were so deep they needed stitches. It wasn’t painless, what they did to him.”
There was a thickness to how she spoke. She was trying not to cry.
“As if he needed any more pain.” A tear slid into the corner of my mouth, and its bitter taste burst on my tongue. I looked toward Damon’s wrists, but they were tucked beneath the blanket. My brother would have more scars because of me. When he did wake up, would things between us be bad again? Had Lucifer shattered our fragile peace to pieces?
Emma squeezed my arm and pulled away immediately, knowing my aversion to being touched. “He’ll heal. Damon’s strength is different from yours, but he isn’t weak.”
She was right. My brother was certainly softer than I was, and yet he was every bit as fierce. He was just quieter about it … and maybe a tad less homicidal. I studied Damon’s still, pale face, my lips twisted in thought. “Yeah, well, first we need to wake him up,” I murmured.
