Trinity of Light Page 3

  * * *

  Thirty minutes had passed. Overton busied himself with his work. I considered striking up a conversation. Even though he’d been dutiful to Cyril, he wasn’t going to give me the opportunity to ask for forgiveness.

  I examined each of the holding cells that once contained the Marys. Everything had been cleared out, including the coats that contained the strange green eye broaches—the symbol of Vidius’s legion.

  My third lap around the circular room left me exhausted. When I looked at Overton, his hand scrawled across a page, scribbling passages of this and that. It was all too much. I couldn’t be in the room with him while he acted like I didn’t exist. I strode to the table and stood beside him. He didn’t acknowledge me. “Overton?”

  He held a finger up to silence me.

  I waited.

  Once he had the numerical sequence written on the side of the beaker, he turned toward me and crossed his arms. “What is it you need, Linden?” Frustration laced every syllable.

  I wanted to say, you, for him to forgive me, to smile at me again, but when his cold, distant eyes stared into mine, my heart fell. What was kinder? To just leave him alone or force the issue. The bond was still there between us. I could force the issue knowing, in the end, he wouldn’t be able to resist, but the longer I gazed into his eyes, the more I felt his pain. I wanted to take it away, but the hardest part? Knowing I was the cause.

  I lowered my gaze to the floor and blinked back tears. Maybe this was for the best. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. “Never mind.” I spun and headed for the door.

  “Linden, wait,” he called from behind me. Reluctant surrender was evident in his sigh.

  I stopped, turned, and formulated my excuse as I took in his exasperated stance. “What? I need—”

  “I’m sorry. It’s just…I…”

  Something in me snapped. Whether it was denying the bond that had me so on edge or that his avoidance cut me deeper than I had been letting on, it was hard to tell which was the catalyst. Cyril served as a substantial distraction, but with only the two of us here, it was more than I could take.

  My turmoil flowed in the form of harsh questions. “What? You’re angry with me? Do you think I don’t know that? You’re upset I tried to free you? Tried to release you from a false love? It would have been the selfish choice to let you continue the lie.” The heat of rage flooded my cheeks. I let go of the argument that had rattled around in my mind so many times—the story of my self-sacrifice, of my devotion. “You told me once you loved me enough to let me go. Why is that a privilege only reserved for you? Are you afraid you’d have to share some of your righteous indignation?”

  His arms hung at his sides, but I wasn’t sure it was defeat or apathy. His lips sealed, not uttering those words I longed to hear. I wanted his fucking absolution. Needed it.

  The air rushed through my nostrils as I worked to maintain control of my anger. “You know what amazes me most? That you said you loved me enough to let me go, but not enough to forgive me. Fine. Have it your way. You want distance? You can have it.”

  Through the door and across the bridge that spanned the river, I ran, not bothering to look to see if he followed. Cool wind blasted my face, chilling my flushed skin. I’d forgotten the speed I could achieve with the powers I gained from killing Michael, my late husband and another of Cyril’s foes. I was just discovering the depths of my abilities, and Cyril only instructed me when he saw fit. Neither of us knew what the repercussion such power would have on a human. Regardless, I relished my newfound ability and allowed it to carry me along the winding tree-lined driveway away from Overton. I needed to be alone. If he didn’t want me, I wouldn’t force the issue.

  By the time I reached the main road that traveled along the mountain ridge, I had discovered the flaw in my plan—Cyril had taken the car. “Son of a bitch.” He could have manifested wings and flown away, but this was part of his master plan—leave me stuck with Overton.

  The muscles in my neck tightened when I heard Overton clear his throat. I closed my eyes.

  “I’m sorry.” His words were muffled by the tractor-trailer speeding down the narrow mountain road.

  As the wind from the passing vehicle blew my hair, I stood motionless on the gravel shoulder where Cyril’s car was once parked, unsure of what to say.

  He raised his voice, causing his words to echo down the winding drive. “I said I’m sorry.”

  Another passing truck, and I bellowed over the sound of rubber meeting asphalt. “I heard you.” Where the hell was all the traffic coming from?

  “Well, then isn’t it your turn to say the same?” Overton crossed his arms and waited for my response, so sexy in his white lab coat.

  I mirrored his actions, crossing my own arms. “I thought I already did.”

  “In your way perhaps, but did you mean it?”

  My eyes narrowed, focusing on his incredulous stance. “Of course, I mean it.”

  He eyed me suspiciously for a moment, and whatever he was looking for, he must have found because his features relaxed, and he extended his hand. “Then why are you standing there?”

  “Because some stubborn pain in the ass refused to speak to me.”

  “Well, there has never been one more qualified than you, my dear, to identify said stubborn pain in the ass. You are an expert in the field.”

  I unfolded my arms and clenched my fists. “So, what? You want me to come closer so we can toss snide comments at each other?”

  “Linden, my heart still loves you. It always will. But you haven’t been fair. You’ve disregarded me. You decided for me and in the process destroyed what we had together.”

  Had? His speaking of us in the past tense caused tears to erupt at the corners of my eyes. “Don’t you think I’ve fucking realized that? No matter how many times I’ve explained I tried to break the bond to free you, I can’t change what I did.”

  His arms hung limply at his side. “I need you to consider me.”

  I sniffled. “A little late to make demands now, isn’t it?”

  He took two large strides toward me until we stood so close his nose nearly touched mine. “I know I have your love, Linden. I know I have your concern. You are anything but thoughtless, but want I really want is your respect. That’s what I need you to promise me. That you’ll treat me as a partner. That you’ll consider more than what’s best for me. You’ll honor how I feel and my desires. Promise me that.”

  Wiping the tears that dripped from my chin onto the sleeve of my shirt, I made my vow. “I promise.”

  He placed a palm on each of my cheeks, forcing me to gaze into his eyes. “If it makes you feel any better, what you’ll be considering is allowing me to love you forever. Bond or not, my love for you feels like a choice, one I’ll make time and time again. But here’s something for you to ponder... If loving you wasn’t my choice, would I have been able to walk away from you as I did?” He pressed his lips to mine. “If it wasn’t a choice, I wouldn’t be able to see what a stubborn pain in the ass you can be.”

  My chest shook as the laughter-laced sob escaped.

  He kissed me once more. “Come on.”

  I rested a hand on my hip, and it was my turn to be apprehensive. “Where are we going?”

  “We’re starting over.”

  I took a step backward out of his embrace and lifted the edge of my shirt to help dry my face.

  “Linden, look out!” He lunged, pushing me several feet to the left, knocking me to the ground. I lay pinned beneath his heat, his body shielding mine as the eighteen-wheeler whizzed by, directly through the spot where I just stood. Squealing tires preceded the thunderous crash as the truck careened off the pavement, through the brush and over the hillside.

  Cocooned in Overton’s embrace, I struggled to see the wreck.

  “Don’t move, love,” he whispered in my ear. “I’ve got you.” Even through the haze of adrenaline, the kiss he placed behind my ear did not go unnoticed.

 
Twisting metal, skipping debris, and the hum of a dying engine made the blood beat in my ears. I wiggled out from under Overton’s body. “Move. We’ve got to help.”

  His breath escaped in soft spurts against the sensitive skin of my throat. “Not until we’re sure it’s safe.”

  I didn’t need his overprotectiveness now. We didn’t need it. The man driving the truck needed it even less. I wiggled, but when my effort proved pointless, I surrendered. The skidding of tires and crunching of metal ended in a silence that hung thick in the air, amplifying Overton’s rhythmic breathing. A stray car passed us as if nothing happened, filling the atmosphere with eerie normalcy. Overton glanced over his shoulder before rolling to his side and hopping to his feet. He extended a hand to me, urging me to stand. “Come on.”

  I wasted no time pulling myself from the ground with his assistance. Brushing twigs and leaves from my hair, I steadied my footing. Overton yanked my arm, dragging me toward the crash.

  The truck had plummeted over the side of a small but steep cliff, making it impossible for the traffic on the roadway above to see the wreckage. With my hand still clutched in Overton’s tight grip, we hurried down the drive.

  The eighteen-wheeler lay on its side, the back door of the trailer wide open, the front wheel still spinning.

  Overton released my hand. “Stay here.” He rolled up his sleeves and inhaled a deep breath. The determined look that crossed his features made me nervous.

  “What are you doing?” Crossing my arms, I waited eagerly to hear his plan.

  “Just stay here.” With that he leaped off the cliff.

  A scream tore through me, roaring through the valley below. “Overton, no!”

  He landed with a graceful thud on the side of the trailer, crouched on one knee, hands resting on the nondescript white paint of the side panel. The metal groaned under his weight. He paused a moment before righting himself and making his way to the cab, his arms extended for balance.

  Not trusting myself to achieve his Spiderman-like grace, I searched for a different route to the truck. Sprinting down the roadway toward the compound, I found another path. I circled back and headed for the wreckage.

  Overton’s head peeked up from out of the passenger side window. The sadness lining his features would have told me everything if his words hadn’t. “He’s dead.”

  Under normal circumstances the driver’s death would have crippled me, but the carnage I’d witnessed since meeting Cyril left me numb where death was considered. I was always at odds with myself, hating who I had become, yet knowing in my soul, it was who I was destined to be.

  I approached with caution while Overton hunted for a way to climb down. The rocky outcropping of the cliff had mangled the back half of the truck. Ripped from most of its hinges, the door hung loosely as Overton walked along the top of the trailer.

  I leaned down, expecting to see produce or retail items. What I saw instead took my breath away. Coffins? At least that’s what they looked like. Dozens of metal coffins were strewn in every direction inside the trailer. The seal on the nearest one had cracked, and a thick, viscous substance oozed onto the truck’s bumper and dripped to the ground. With my palm planted over my lips, I stifled my gasp, afraid to look any further.

  Overton peered down, his brow creased with concern. “Love, what is it?”

  I rubbed my hand along the seam of my pants. “I’m not sure.” I watched as more of the gooey substance splattered into a sticky puddle.

  “Hang on. I’ll be right there.” He cleared his throat.

  “How on earth are you…”

  He jumped and landed with the grace of a gymnast. Straightening the sleeves on his lab coat, he stared at the truck’s cargo. “Dear God.”

  I took two steps to my left to get a better view. “What is this?”

  “Those containers look similar to ones I’ve seen used to transport cadavers.” He stepped next to me, searching the contents of the truck.

  I figured he’d know since he loved to play doctor, and not in a metaphorical sense. The Children’s Hospital was no doubt missing him since he took his sabbatical to find out what Vidius was concocting at the compound.

  He cocked his head to the side, trying to read a series of inscribed numbers. “These differ from those I’ve seen around the hospital.” He rested his fingers on my shoulder, steadying himself.

  A snarl from above pulled me from my contemplation. I turned my head toward the disturbance, assessing the threat. A mangled beast with fangs bared glowered down at us.

  “Son of a bitch,” left my lips slow and steady—a contrast to my thundering heart. Even though it was a beast, it wasn’t a Mary. If it was one of the Josephs, it was difficult to discern because its features had been rearranged by the accident.

  “Overton?” I said in a stunned whisper.

  He snaked his arm around my waist and tightened his grip. “Yes, love.”

  I stepped backward in synchronization with him. “Are you sure the driver was dead?”

  “Certain.”

  Another step.

  Drool dripped from the creature’s mouth onto the side of the trailer while it eyed us with menace.

  My shoe slipped on a small stone. “How exactly did he die?” I recalled that night in the Glass Castle courtyard when the fairytale turned to horror. The Josephs had decimated the Pittsburgh art community. This had to be a Joseph. They resurrected unless Cyril or I extracted their souls.

  Realization laced each syllable Overton spoke, “Large gash to the skull. Just like that thing sizing us up on the truck. No human could have survived those injuries.”

  “That’s what I—” Before the last word hit the air, the creature leaped and tackled Overton to the ground. Since his arm had been around my waist, I toppled with them.

  The beast’s jowls snapped, teeth bared, fangs dripping with saliva while Overton held it back by the shoulders, just out of reach of his face.

  When I plunged that knife into Michael, Cyril’s enemy and my dearly departed husband, the pulse of energy changed me. I could see the souls of the dead just like Cyril. I was also able to extract a being’s soul, just like Cyril. So that’s exactly what I did.

  I slapped my hand onto the beast’s side, closed my eyes, and visualized pulling its soul into my palm, just like Cyril had taught me.

  The energy surged, seizing my nerves and numbing my skin. Seconds later, the creature slumped to the ground. I knelt, transfixed by the nothingness that rushed through my mind. Static and blackness, not the images that normally assaulted my mind when I touched souls. The events of each person’s life played back like a first-person movie. But not in this case. The driver’s soul was blank, just like the newborn’s soul I had held at the hospital.

  Overton’s voice broke through the vibrations rushing through my brain. “Linden, are you all right? Linden?” He gripped my shoulders and shook me.

  I clasped my hands together, trapping the soul between them, squeezed my eyes tighter and began my chant, “Niam Parum Omsti Narum.” Once he heard the words leave my lips, he froze, recognizing my intent. I continued uttering the words until the powdery remnants of the soul escaped between my fingers. Casting the dust into the wind, I closed my eyes. I opened them only to find Overton’s wide, concerned eyes. “Overton, the driver’s soul…”

  “Yes, what of it?” He caressed my cheek with his thumb.

  A stray, traitorous tear ran down my cheek. “His soul is blank, just like a newborn’s. No memories. At the gala, when the Josephs were murdering people, I had gloves on when stole their souls. I didn’t touch them, so I didn’t see their memories. How is it possible he has no memories? Unless they’re using—”

  “Don’t say it.” The pain behind his eyes broke my heart. The only people he claimed to love as much as me were the children he cared for at the hospital. I’d never forget the time Overton asked me to release the soul of the little girl he cared for who so bravely embraced death. But it was the nearly blank infant�
�s soul that the Josephs resembled most. The idea that Vidius be might using children to create these monstrosities was too much.

  I rubbed my hand down his back.

  After a moment of contemplation, relief crossed his features, easing the ache I had in my chest for him. “Wait, that doesn’t explain it either. The driver’s memories of traveling here should have been evident, even if he was created just before entering the truck. It doesn’t make sense. Nothing makes sense.”

  I glanced back to the motionless heap on the ground and saw that the beast was, once again, a Joseph, death forcing his transformation back to his human form.

  Overton kissed my forehead. “Let’s grab the broken container and drag it back to the compound where we can at least lock the doors while I have a look. We’re too exposed here.”

  “You’re not going to get any arguments from me.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Impostor

  With a thud, we dropped the heavy coffin-sized box onto the cement floor of the rotunda in the compound. The echo of the metal impacting the concrete seemed to last for minutes before getting lost in the rafters of the four-story structure. The mostly barren space added to the tense moment as if it were cleared to showcase the strange capsule like a horrid work of art.

  Some of the clear liquid oozing through the crack in the broken seal stuck to my hand. I raised it to the light hanging above Overton’s workbench.

  “I wonder what it is. It’s not formaldehyde or another preservative.” He examined the liquid that had dried into crystalline fragments and flaked from my palm onto the floor when I opened and closed my fist.

  “Sure looks like shifting residue.”

  His fingers clasped around my wrist, turning it so he could get a view from every angle. “It is.” His casual touch caused all those conflicted emotions I had for him to surface.

  I yanked my hand away and pointed to the container of gadgets he had stowed under his examination bench. Even though the seal had been cracked, allowing the fluid to leak from the seam, the lid remained locked in place. “Do you have anything in there we can use to open the coffin?” While he focused on mentally inventorying his medical instruments, I used the moment to breathe.