The Guardian Page 6

  “It’s clear when it’s below thirty degrees Celsius. You can see it when it heats up.”

  “Does it work?” Flint asked.

  Huffman’s smile faltered. “No one’s tried it yet.”

  “Give it here. I’ll try right now,” Fury said, sliding the elastic band off the end of her braid. She ran her fingers through her long dark hair, then Houdinied it up into a knot on the top of her head.

  My eyes fell to the silvery scar encircling her neck already. Flint’s did too.

  When she reached for the blood stone, I held it out of her reach.

  She scowled. “Don’t start, Warren. My body. My choice.”

  Still, I didn’t lower the cuff enough for her to grab it.

  “Nobody’s trying it on down here in the vault. Az wants to do a test run with it in the clinic so they can monitor Fury’s vitals.” Huffman held out his hand, and I gave the cuff back to him. “We should make sure it isn’t lethal before you guys go to the jungle.”

  Flint raked his hands through his hair.

  Fury looked at her watch. “No time like the present.”

  Flint began to argue, so I moved out of his way and paced the room behind them.

  Huffman joined me. “We’ve all tried to talk her out of it. But she’s determined. I honestly think she’d rather die trying than not do it at all.”

  “That doesn’t make me feel any better,” I said.

  “She’s tough. If anyone can stand it, it’s her.”

  Fury’s and Flint’s argument ended with Flint stalking past us, out of the vault.

  “Can we go to the clinic now?” Fury asked.

  “Yeah. Everyone should be there soon.” Huffman knelt down to open an armored case on the floor.

  “Shouldn’t we take it to Echo-10?” I asked.

  “Echo-10’s on lockdown.”

  “Why?” Fury asked.

  Huffman shrugged. “Beats me.”

  “Before we leave…” I lifted the strap of my sword’s scabbard over my head. “Can I lock this up in here until we come back from the clinic? It feels a bit like World of Warcraft carrying it around in public.”

  “Traded in your Remington for steel, huh?” Huffman asked, reaching for it.

  I handed it to him along with my backpack. “Something like that.”

  Flint was sitting on the steps outside the vault when the three of us walked out with Huffman carrying the shiny aluminum case. Fury stopped in front of him and held out her hand. He looked at it for a moment before taking it. She pulled him up and hugged him.

  Outside, Huffman loaded the case into a camouflaged HOK—a golf cart infused with steroids and testosterone. Flint got in the front seat with him.

  I grabbed Fury’s arm. “Will you walk with me? We need to talk.”

  “Are you breaking up with me, Warren?” She grinned, shielding her face from the sun with her hand.

  “This is serious.”

  “Isn’t everything we do together serious?”

  The thought of her skin on mine flashed through my brain, and I stopped myself from answering “apparently not.”

  She put her hands on her hips. “Are you going to try to talk me out of doing this?”

  “No, I promise.” I leaned toward her and lowered my voice. “Azrael wants me to fill you in on our other situation.”

  “Oh.” She turned back to the HOK. “Flint, Huffman, we’ll meet you guys at the clinic. We’ll walk.”

  “Suit yourself.” Huffman started the engine.

  “Everything all right?” Flint asked.

  I gave him a thumbs-up.

  As they pulled away from the armory, Fury and I started walking. I looked all the way around us before speaking. “Azrael wanted me to tell you that Adrianne’s child—”

  “Is the Morning Star,” she said as calmly as if she were telling me it was a boy.

  My head snapped back. “Yes. How did you know?”

  “I’ve known Azrael almost my entire life. He’s never been the most subtle creature on the planet. And now that he’s human, he’s getting sloppy.”

  “How so?”

  “He has emotions now. He’s super defensive whenever Adrianne is mentioned.”

  “Do you think anyone else knows?” I asked.

  “I’m sure all of SF-12 has at least considered it. Enzo and Kane have both mentioned it.”

  “What about Nathan and Sloan?”

  “I don’t talk to them, but they don’t know him like we do. So I doubt it, unless Iliana is starting to act strange around Adrianne.” She looked at me. “Which she totally might be.”

  “It’s really obvious, isn’t it?”

  “I felt the power of that kid when the helicopter landed in the yard.”

  Because she was Abaddon’s human daughter, Fury’s ability to sense the supernatural was much stronger than just her ability to see angels. Our power was almost a tangible thing to her. She could see it, feel it, and, most importantly, avoid it. It was more than even I could do.

  “So what’s his plan? Is that why he’s been gone so much?”

  “You know as much as I do about that, but whatever it is, I’ll bet it has something to do with Echo-10 being on lockdown.”

  “I wonder if he’s transforming it into a supernatural prison,” she said.

  “I thought the same thing, but how will he explain to Adrianne that he’s locking up their kid?”

  “Maybe he’ll lock her up too.”

  I laughed. “That will go over well.”

  Her head tilted. “Wouldn’t be the first time he’s tried.”

  “To lock up Adrianne?”

  “No.”

  A distant memory, one of Azrael’s memories from the blood stone, rose in my mind. “Oh. He was going to lock up my mother.”

  “And you. I was told the whole reason he built the bunker beneath the house in Chicago was to keep you and Nadine there.”

  I’d forgotten that. “Maybe you’re right, but hopefully now that he’s had a little more experience with human relationships, he’ll realize it won’t work.”

  “Perhaps, but Adrianne might stay willingly so she’s not separated from her child.”

  “Would you?”

  She looked up the road ahead. “Without question.”

  We walked in silence around the barracks and the commissary.

  “Fury, why don’t you stay home?” I finally asked.

  She groaned. “Warren, you promised.”

  “Just listen. I can force my way into Nulterra from the spirit world. There are channels through which souls are cast out of Eden and into—”

  “And get yourself, and most likely my sister, killed?” She stopped walking and faced me. “Why do you think they’ve developed weapons like that sword you’ve been carrying around?”

  I had actually considered that. Even before we knew about the sword, the Council had forbidden me from attempting to enter Nulterra through the spirit line. They—the wisest of all angels—had agreed the risk was too great. I was only cleared to attempt entering through the gate on Earth.

  “So why don’t you open the gate and let me go alone,” I said. “You can return home to Jett and John.”

  She held up her wrist, the one marked with the same “No” sign as the gate itself. “When I found out this was the key, I could have gone anytime into Nulterra by myself. But I’m not stupid. My best chance of getting in and getting out alive is with you.”

  “But that doesn’t mean you have to—”

  “And if you don’t know by now that I’m an asset on a dangerous mission, I’m going to punch you in the throat.”

  I cracked a smile.

  “I’m going. Don’t bring it up again. Arguing with Flint about it is all I can stand.” Shaking her head, she started walking again.

  “Why’d you never tell me about him?”

  “Never had a reason to.”

  Sure. No reason at all. We’d only known each other the better part of a decade. Had slept t
ogether, had fought in a few wars together, and had almost died together more than once.

  Her eyes fell to the pavement. “I keep my work and personal lives separate.”

  “Which was I?”

  She didn’t answer because she didn’t have to. We both knew I was a job. At least, we both knew it now. And she had quit me without any notice whatsoever.

  Neither of us spoke as we started down the main road through the base.

  Finally, Fury quickened her pace. “Come on, Warren. Those cuffs can’t be any more painful than this silence.”

  Chapter Five

  The Claymore medical clinic was the equivalent of a civilian urgent care with an X-ray machine. They could diagnose the flu, broken bones, and jock itch. For anything more serious, Claymore employees were sent to the local hospital in New Hope or flown to Duke in Durham.

  There likely weren’t any patients I might send into the afterlife with my presence, so I followed Fury inside.

  Huffman and Flint stood when we entered. “Nice stroll?” Huffman asked.

  “Peachy,” Fury said. “We ready to do this?”

  “Just waiting for Nurse Dana to get here.”

  Flint got up and touched Fury’s elbow. “Can we talk for a second outside?”

  “Are we going to argue again?”

  He didn’t answer.

  “Then no,” she said.

  The front door to the clinic opened behind us, and Azrael walked through it. A woman in black scrubs was behind him.

  “Good, you’re already here,” Az said when he saw us. He walked over next to me. “Warren, this is Nurse Dana Mohn. Dana, this is my son, Warren.”

  “Hello, Warren.” Dana’s eyes were mismatched. One was blue, the other hazel.

  As I shook her hand, my eyes narrowed. I’d seen this woman before. I was sure of it. Same height. Same curves. Same ginger hair. “Hi. Have we met?”

  Azrael slapped my shoulder. “Dana’s been with us for a long time. She cared for Taiya when she was here.”

  The memory of our friend Taiya’s time at Echo-10 stirred all the doubt and mistrust I feared would surface on this trip. That was the first time we realized how cunning Azrael could be. And how far he would go to keep us in the dark.

  But that wasn’t it. I’d seen Dana much more recently…

  My mind flashed back to the day Fury gave birth to Jett. I had thought the woman working in the nursery had heard me through the glass window.

  I turned toward Azrael, my jaw slack. “Was she there the day Jett was born?”

  Fury’s head jerked. “What?”

  “Yes,” Azrael said.

  “Why?” Fury asked. “Jett wasn’t born anywhere near here.”

  Something caught Azrael’s eye behind me. I turned to see a man emerge from the hallway beyond the welcome desk. “Huffman, Dr. Rothwell is ready for you.”

  “Rothwell?” I asked. “He’s still here?”

  Azrael nodded. “He left a couple of years ago, but I recently called and asked if he’d be interested in coming out of retirement.”

  “You mean, you paid him to come out of retirement,” I said.

  Azrael shrugged. “Same thing.”

  “And he knows about us?” I asked.

  “More or less. Back before we added Doc to SF-12, there may have been an incident involving me and an RPG. Let’s just say Dr. Rothwell was introduced to the supernatural world and my ability to heal very quickly.”

  Huffman chuckled. I, however, still wasn’t finding any of this humorous. Neither was Flint.

  Azrael looked at Fury. “Are you sure you want to do this? You don’t have to.”

  “He’s right,” Flint said. “You don’t have—”

  “I’m positive.” Fury nodded without breaking eye contact with Az.

  “Great.” Dana gestured toward the hallway.

  “I’ll wait out here with Flint,” Azrael said.

  Flint started forward. “The hell you—”

  Azrael flattened his hand against Flint’s chest. “Stay with me. You’ll give yourself a heart attack.”

  Fury touched her father’s cheek. “I’ll be fine.”

  It was clear Flint was having a hard time controlling his emotions. His jaw was set, and his eyes blinked with the speed of hummingbird wings. He put his hands on his hips and nodded.

  Huffman offered me the case. “You should probably go back with her, so you know how to get them on and off.”

  I reluctantly accepted it. “If this goes bad, I’m holding you responsible.”

  “Man, I’m just the craftsman. I don’t want her to do this any more than you do.”

  I looked at the nurse. “Do you think it’s safe for me to be with her?”

  Dana already knew I was an angel, and if she was really the head nurse of Echo-10, she should know exactly what kind. As the Archangel of Death, people often died in my presence. The sick got sicker. Injuries worsened.

  Death was literally in my job title.

  Dana looked around the waiting room, probably to be sure it was safe to speak. “No matter how severe the reaction, it shouldn’t be fatal. As long as you’re willing to leave if I give the order, it’s not a problem.”

  In other words, she would only give the order if the blood stone took a lethal turn.

  “OK.”

  “Fury, you ready?” Dana asked.

  Fury nodded, then crossed the room and hugged her father one more time. “I’ll be fine,” she whispered only loud enough for him and my supernatural hearing to hear. “Don’t worry.”

  Not worrying was a lost cause for all of us.

  The exam room was spacious with an adjustable exam table, two straight-back blue chairs, a rolling stool, and a counter with cabinets and a sink.

  I laid the case on the counter and moved out of the way.

  Dana rolled a vital-signs monitor over beside the exam table. She slipped a small monitor onto Fury’s index finger, then slipped Fury’s other arm into a blood pressure cuff.

  Dr. Ben Rothwell walked into the room. He looked mostly the same as I remembered, except now there was a little more salt than pepper in the rim of hair around his ebony head.

  He smiled when he saw me. “Warren Parish.”

  I was surprised, but I took a step forward and extended my hand. “Hello, Dr. Rothwell. I’m impressed you remember me.”

  “How could I forget? Biggest scaredy-cat of needles I’ve ever seen in my forty years of practicing medicine.”

  Fury laughed and shook her head. “Needles? Really?”

  My mouth was gaping. “Aren’t there HIPAA laws preventing you from saying things like that?”

  “Probably.” He laughed. “Can I tell the story?”

  I rolled my eyes but nodded.

  He sat down on the rolling stool and scooted toward Fury. “This guy cut his hand open on the rappel tower, but he’s afraid of needles so he didn’t come in for stitches. Instead, he poured the cut full of wood glue.”

  “Hey, it worked,” I defended.

  Dr. Rothwell chuckled. “Sure. Until it got infected, and you had to come in for a penicillin shot.” He leaned toward Fury. “I thought he might cry.”

  She laughed.

  “I didn’t,” I said.

  “How have you been, Warren?” he asked.

  I crossed my arms. “I enjoy not working here anymore.”

  “Yeah, I understand that. Can’t believe Damon dragged me back. But hopefully, it won’t be for too long. Those fish in the canal won’t catch themselves.” He looked down at Fury. “Are we ready to do this, young lady?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “You understand there’s no precedent for what we’re about to do, correct?”

  She nodded.

  “And that this is well outside my sphere of practice, yes?”

  “Yes. I understand. Off the books.”

  “And even with the protective coating, you know it will probably be painful.”

  “I’ve done this before
.” She touched her throat. “Without the protective coating.”

  “All right.” He looked around the room. “Dana, let’s get a crash cart in here just to be safe.”

  My body temp jumped about a thousand degrees. As Dana left the room, I pumped the front of my shirt’s collar to force air down it.

  “It’s just a precaution,” Dr. Rothwell said, probably noting my pending hysteria.

  A moment later, Dana returned with a rolling blue-and-white cart. She pushed it against the wall, then returned to the counter where she’d left the metal case from the vault. “Ready?” she asked.

  Dr. Rothwell looked at Fury, and she nodded. Dana opened the case.

  “No!” My sudden outburst shocked even me.

  Everyone looked at me.

  “Put it on me first.”

  Dr. Rothwell’s head fell to the side. “It likely won’t have the same effect because you’re an—”

  “We’ll at least be able to tell if it’s generating heat.” I unfastened my tactical watch, then held out my arm. “Me first.”

  Dr. Rothwell looked at Fury, then back at me. “All right. Dana, give me the brachial cuff. It will probably fit Warren’s wrist.”

  Dana removed a cuff from the box. She slowly pressed the button on the side, and it sprang open. Cradling it carefully with both hands, she offered it to the doctor.

  I lowered my arm toward him and took a breath as he fastened it around my wrist.

  Energy hit me like a tidal wave. My head swam, and I rocked back a step before catching myself on the wall. “Whoa.” I blinked to clear my head.

  Fury touched my side. “Are you OK?”

  I nodded and grabbed her backrest to steady myself. “It’s a rush.”

  “May I?” Dr. Rothwell pushed his bifocals up onto the bridge of his nose. I lowered my arm for him to inspect it. “Dana, hand me the thermometer.” When he had it, he slid the tip under the cuff and looked at the screen by Fury.

  We all watched the number climb.

  99.7

  101.1

  101.4

  101.6…

  “Looks like it’s holding at 101.6,” he said after a moment.

  “That’s the temperature of bathwater. I can do this,” Fury said confidently.

  “How do you feel, Warren?” Dr. Rothwell asked.

  “I feel the energy but very little heat.” I also knew I was an angel and spiritual things would affect me very differently than Fury.