Edyn (The Essence Project Book 1) Page 25

  When I couldn’t contain it any longer, my head flew back and my eyes snapped open. Another scream tore through my entire body. All the glass in the room shattered and flew inward. The restraints holding my arms broke free of the chair, as did the restraints holding my ankles. I rose from the chair, and expected my feet to touch the ground but they didn’t. I hovered several inches above it.

  Electricity surged through me, and I could feel it pulsing at my fingertips. I glanced down at my hands and sparks were arching between my fingers. The center of my palms glowed, and a ball of energy began to form in each hand.

  I was terrifying.

  I could see it reflected in all of their faces.

  The soldiers that had been holding on to Ryker let him go and backed up until the doors behind them opened. Then they turned tail and ran. Ryker had fallen to the floor at Jophiel’s feet.

  Dirk was staggering away from me, cussing under his breath.

  Jophiel was the only one who hadn’t moved. His eyes were still on fire. "That’s impossible. Your gifts aren’t…You can’t…"

  He took one step in my direction, and I threw my hands forward. The energy that had formed in my palms shot out and hit him square in the chest, sending him through the air and into the back wall. The plaster cracked all around him, and when he fell to the ground, a huge crater was left in the drywall.

  He landed in a crouch, never taking his eyes off of me. My feet touched down on the floor just as Ryker reached me and grabbed my hand. I felt a spark connecting us, but he didn’t pull away.

  "Come on!" he yelled and started pulling me toward the exit.

  Alarms sounded throughout the building, and Jophiel didn’t move as we fled. Ryker was struggling to run, and I could tell that his injuries were slowing him down immensely.

  "We have to get out of here!" I cried.

  He gripped my hand tighter. "I don’t know the way out."

  "I do," I replied.

  We made our way to the elevators, and I saw a door just to the right marked: "Stairs". It was the one I had been looking for when Jophiel caught me the last time. We blasted through it and flew up the stairs two at a time, trying to reach ground level. The alarms echoed in the stairwells, and we slowed as we continued upward.

  "We have to hurry," I said. "We can’t let him find us."

  When we reached the ground level, Ryker pushed me against the wall and peeked through the glass in the door. He ducked to the side just as a group of soldiers ran past us.

  "We’re going to have to make a break for it, try and hide behind stuff where we can. This won’t be easy. If only I had a weapon," he said.

  I placed my hand on his face, lavishing in the simplicity of it. "I’m your weapon."

  He pulled me up against his rock hard body and slammed his lips into mine. There was more passion, more emotion in that kiss than any that had passed between us before. I didn’t want it to end, but I knew we didn’t have the time. I just prayed we would make it out of this so that we would have all the time in the world together.

  "Ready?" I asked.

  He nodded and threw the door open.

  I expected gunfire or shouting when we emerged, but the hallway was empty. We ran the opposite way the soldiers had gone with Ryker refusing to let go of my hand. I didn’t think he would, ever again. We turned down several different hallways, and I could see windows to the outside beyond doors that led to various rooms.

  "We’re close to the outer edge of the building," I said.

  We just had to find the right door. Footsteps emerged from a hallway behind us, and Ryker pulled us into an empty room. He turned the lights off and closed the blinds in the narrow window by the door. I grabbed a chair and wedged it under the doorknob. When I turned back to Ryker, he was studying the room, searching for an alternate escape. The room was another conference room with a wall of glass on one side.

  "The windows," I said quietly, hoping the soldiers wouldn’t hear.

  We both crossed to the opposite wall, and looked for a latch. The windows were solid.

  "How long do you think we have before they show up if we break it?" I asked.

  He shook his head. "Not long, but there are trees about fifty feet from here. If we can just make it to the trees we might stand a chance." He grabbed a chair and threw it at the window, shattering the glass as I had before in the lab.

  The noise was followed by shouting in the hall.

  "Hurry," he said, and helped me through the window.

  We ran as fast as we could. I think adrenaline was blocking out the pain he was in because he never slowed. Bullets embedded themselves in the trees around us, and we ducked as we ran. I felt the searing heat of a bullet burying itself in my side, and I fell with a cry.

  Ryker was pulling me up. "We have to get further," he said. "I’m sorry." He pressed his hand against my side to slow the bleeding as we kept moving.

  The bullets slowed, and we could hear people running somewhere behind us. Ryker changed our course to hopefully throw them off. They would easily outrun us with my injury slowing us down. I could feel Ryker succumbing to more pain next to me, and wondered how badly he was hurt. He pulled me to the top of a hill, and we paused for a moment. Below us was a highway.

  We hurried down to the pavement, and Ryker let go of me. He ran to the edge of the road, waving his hands wildly in the air. Several cars honked and swerved past us. The driver of a beat up silver Honda slammed on the brakes, though. Ryker wasted no time in grabbing me and heading towards it.

  The driver side door opened, and a man climbed out. "What the Hell, are you alright?"

  Ryker pulled the back door open and shoved me inside. "We have to get out of here, now!"

  The man nodded and got back in the car as Ryker piled in after me. I kept my hand clamped over my side where the bullet was embedded. Blood was soaking through my fingers, and my eyes rolled back in my head.

  "Let me see," Ryker said and gently moved my hand. He sucked in a breath when he lifted my shirt. "I don’t have my kit. I need to dig out the bullet. I… I…"

  I’d never seen him so frazzled before. Grabbing his hand I gave it a squeeze and flashed him a small smile. "I’ll be okay. This is nothing. I’ll be back to normal in three days."

  He laughed in disbelief, but that terror was still lingering in his eyes. "Edyn, I love you, but I think you’re getting delirious from blood loss."

  I shook my head. "I’m serious. It took less than a week for my leg to heal from a gunshot wound straight through the bone. Shattered it to pieces. This is nothing, I don’t think it hit anything important."

  The man driving exclaimed, "Wait, say what now?"

  "Don't worry about it, just get us out of here," Ryker replied.

  The man turned his head back towards us while keeping his eyes on the road. "We’re about thirty minutes from the nearest hospital. I’m hurrying though."

  "No," Ryker said. "We can’t go to a hospital. They’ll have word out everywhere looking for us. We need to go somewhere and lay low."

  "But you said she’s been shot!" the man exclaimed.

  "Yes, and the people that shot her will likely kill her the second they hear she’s at the hospital," Ryker snapped back irritably. "I just need to think."

  "Ryker," I said. "You’re bleeding." There was a small bloodstain on the front of his shirt, and I knew it wasn’t from me.

  I reached out and lifted his shirt. There was a bandage just at the bottom of his ribcage and blood was soaking through it.

  He looked down. "Aw Hell, I just popped my stitches. I’ll live once I get that sewn back up."

  I met his eyes, letting it really sink in that this wasn’t a dream. "You’re really okay?" I whispered. "I saw you die, I, I saw—“

  He interrupted me with a gentle kiss. When he pulled back, he said, "I didn’t die. I’m right here. Stella got to me right after and fixed me up."

  So many thoughts circulating my brain. It made my head hurt. "Stella sold me out," I c
hoked out.

  He blinked a few times. "What are you talking about?"

  I didn’t want to hurt him, but I reminded myself that Stella was the one who had hurt him, not me. "As soon as you left she called Jophiel. Zak tore up the apartment and they made it look like Jophiel had just burst in there and taken me. But he didn’t. It was all Stella. Jophiel paid her and everything."

  Frantically he started shaking his head, as if he hoped it would change my words. "No, she wouldn’t…"

  I put my hand on the back of his neck. "I’m sorry. She’s not who you thought she was."

  "But, why…?"

  "She didn’t want me to hurt you. She thought I might blow up and take you with me or something. And she was jealous, and said you were hers." I could see that he was struggling to process it. "What happened to you though? After? How did you end up here?"

  "Zak," he whispered. "I was at Stella’s, and while she was at the salon he knocked me out. When I woke up, the soldiers already had me." His face paled and he looked sick. "They wanted all the souls I’d won in the Pits."

  Zak’s name struck a memory with me. When Jophiel had showed up at Stella’s apartment to take me, they had recognized each other. Zak had been very tense. "Oh my God," I said.

  "What?"

  "Zak." It all made sense as pieces clicked together. "He’s a freaking angel."

  Ryker looked at me confused. "I really do think you’re losing too much blood."

  I shook my head again. "No, I mean it. One of the lab techs had told me about an angel that Jophiel had been experimenting on. He ripped off his wings and everything. Jophiel had mentioned the name Zakariah, and when he came to the apartment they knew each other. Zak seemed a little freaked out."

  Ryker put his hand on my forehead. "Sweetie, I think you’re losing it."

  I opened my mouth to argue, and then the realization hit me. "Of course. You don’t know."

  "Know what?"

  "Angels. They’re real. Jophiel is an angel. Zak’s an angel. I’m not losing it. You saw Jophiel’s eyes. I know you did!" I was pleading with him to believe me.

  "I…"

  "I know it sounds completely crazy, but trust me on this. In my time in Jophiel’s company we had the chance to discuss it. I wouldn’t have believed it myself if I hadn’t seen his back."

  He looked at me with a puzzled expression. "His back? He was shirtless? Don’t tell me he tried to touch you or something or I’ll have to kill him twice."

  "No, no, nothing like that. I tried to run and had to hide in the conference room by his office. He walked in and hadn’t put a shirt on yet. He’s got the scars, Ryker. The same ones that Zak is supposed to have."

  A look of understanding washed over his face. "Zak’s scars were from a car accident when he was younger," he said, but I could tell uncertainty had crept in.

  "He lied. Jophiel cut off his wings. I don’t know what happened to Jophiel’s wings, but they’re gone."

  The man driving interrupted, "I hate to break up this very interesting conversation, but if we’re not going to the hospital, where are we going?"

  Ryker thought for a moment. "Are there any abandoned churches or anything? We need to get some medical supplies somewhere and get out of sight."

  "There’s one church they’re supposed to be tearing down next month. It’s all boarded up."

  "Perfect, let’s go there," Ryker replied. "And thank you, Sir, for your help."

  I could see the man glance at us in his rear view mirror. "Part of me wants to ask what the Hell happened to you two, but I don’t think I want to know," he said.

  "It’s a long story," Ryker said.

  I shifted in the seat, and a stab of pain shot through me. Wincing, I sucked in a breath. Ryker furrowed his brow and could see plain as day on my face that it was worse than I was telling him. Surely I would heal just like I had from all of Jophiel’s torture.

  Right?

  Maybe I was losing too much blood. If I bled faster than I could heal, it would kill me.

  "Hey, man, we need to stop and get some first aid supplies on our way there. I need to get her patched up. We don’t have any money, but we can try and send you some once we’re safe."

  He glanced at Ryker. "Don’t worry about it. Just tell me what you need. There’s a drug store a few minutes from the church. We’re not that far away."

  Ryker placed his hand on mine that was covering the wound. "Here, let me see it again."

  I moved my hand and a fresh torrent of blood slithered down my side.

  "Shit," he muttered and pulled his shirt over his head.

  "I hate to state the obvious," I said, "But now’s not really the time for that, love."

  He couldn’t help but half smile as he wadded the shirt and pressed it against my side. "We need to keep pressure on it." He never moved his hands, and I welcomed his strength.

  We drove in silence until we reached a drug store. Ryker gave the man a list, and he hurried into the store.

  "I’m so sorry I couldn’t protect you," he whispered. Pain was written all over him, and it wasn’t from his injury.

  "It’s not your fault," I said.

  He shook his head. "I should’ve been there. I should’ve known…"

  "Hey," I said. "How could you have known? Don’t beat yourself up over this. I’ll be fine."

  "I know, but still."

  I made him look at me. "Let’s not focus on that right now. We need to figure out our next move. Where the Hell are we going to go now? To your friends in Nashville like we were going to? Where are we, anyhow?"

  "Right now we need to get you healed up enough to really travel, but yes, we’ll go to them. We’re somewhere outside of D.C. Of course Congress wanted the research facility close to them so they could monitor everything."

  I leaned my head against his shoulder, and a few moments later the man returned with several plastic bags. He put them in the front seat and got behind the wheel again.

  "We’ll be there soon, I promise," he said as he backed out of the parking space.

  We didn’t say anything else for the rest of the drive. Just as he said, it wasn’t more than ten minutes. It was an old church built out of crumbling red brick. All the windows were cloaked in graffiti’d plywood that was gray from the elements.

  The man drove to the back and hopped out, popping the trunk as he went. I watched him hurry to one of the boarded up windows with a tire iron in hand.

  Ryker placed my hand back over his damp shirt. "Keep the pressure on it, and wait here for a minute."

  I nodded as he got out of the car to go and help the man pry loose the plywood. Every muscle in his back rippled as he pulled, and I couldn’t help but feel lightheaded. I wasn’t sure if it was from the sight of him or blood loss, but I couldn’t take my eyes away. When the plywood finally came free, Ryker tossed it aside with ease and hurried back to me. He opened my door and leaned in to help me out. Sliding his hands under my arms, he lifted me out like I weighed nothing more than a child.

  God, he’s strong.

  I could see his own wound needing more attention, but I knew he wouldn’t even think about touching it until I was taken care of. When he set me down, my knees buckled and my head started spinning.

  Definitely worse than I thought.

  Ryker scowled as he scooped me up into his arms, and carried me towards the open window. "Sir, do you mind grabbing that stuff?" he said, nodding in the direction of the bags.

  "Sure," the man replied. He followed us to the window and waited for Ryker to clamber through, still holding onto me. I watched him vault through the opening and thought he was certainly more graceful than I was.

  Ryker set me down gently on a dusty church pew and turned to the man. "We can’t thank you enough," he said.

  The man set the bags down next to me and clasped Ryker’s hand. "This morning when I was praying before I left, God told me that I was going to help someone out today. I’m glad I could do that. You two be careful."


  Ryker nodded. "You, too. We really appreciate this. I just wish there were more people like you out there."

  "Oh, there are more of us than you think," he replied. "God bless." He turned and hopped back through the empty window frame.

  We both just stared after him for a moment. I could tell Ryker was a little wary, thinking it was too easy, and I couldn’t argue with that. In spite of our wariness though, I felt a sense of peace.

  I tried to adjust on the pew and a rocket of pain shot through me. Trying to stifle a cry, I wasn’t able to keep Ryker from hearing.

  He turned quickly, concern etched into every line of his face. "Let me get this taken care of," he said and reached for the bags. Fumbling through them, he pulled out a bottle of hydrogen peroxide, a bunch of gauze pads, medical tape, and a suture kit. "Here," he said, grabbing a bottle of water and handing it to me. "Drink some of this."

  I unscrewed the cap and brought the bottle to my lips. "Thanks."

  His hands kept moving through the bags. "He bought way more stuff than I asked for. There’s food in here and a couple of t-shirts too. And, what the Hell?" He pulled out a folded piece of paper and opened it.

  I looked to see what he was holding, and saw several green bills.

  "There’s eight hundred dollars in here." His eyes fell to the paper that the money had been wrapped in. "‘Do not forget to show hospitality to strangers, for by so doing some people have shown hospitality to angels without knowing it.’-Hebrews 13:2. May God bless the two of you and keep you safe.’ Wow."

  He handed me the note, and I read over the words. I couldn't believe this man's kindness. It was unbelievable.

  "This will take care of us for a while," he said, setting the money aside. "I need to get the bullet out of you now."

  His hands found the edge of my blood soaked shirt, and slowly, carefully slid it up my stomach and over my head. Blood trickled down, and I could see the ragged hole there. Ryker picked up a large pair of tweezers and removed them from their packaging and poured the hydrogen peroxide over them.