((Continues on from The Promise.))
___________
"Adam?"
Deep in the confines of the spirit walk, Adam stumbled back beneath the assault of the demon, his blade flickering in his hand. How long had he been fighting this battle" How much energy did he have left' If his mortal body was really in so much danger, how much longer would he be able to keep this up before the demon Natalya got in a lucky blow" He knew this evil creature would not hesitate to rip his soul from its place of safety and drag him to hell, given any chance at all.
A low screech warned him of another attack, the demon Natalya growing less and less human with every launching attack. She fought with claws and tail and teeth, and this time Adam knew he wouldn't be able to hold her off. He had no strength left, the vital energy that connected his soul with his body weakening with each passing moment. He raised the sword in his hands, and felt the sudden crash of despair as the weapon flickered out of sight and sense, needing energy he no longer had to remain corporeal. As he fell into a crouch, prepared to sell his soul dearly to this devilspawn, he thought of Rhys.
"I'm sorry, my brother. I failed."
As her eyes readjusted to the more natural light here on the mortal plane, the real Natalya found herself staring in open-mouthed horror at the scene she had been returned to. For a moment, she didn't see the destruction of the room - the glass shattered and covering everything, the furniture blown back against the far wall. She saw only the blood. So much blood, pouring from a deep gash in the throat of the man she had failed to protect. She should have known not to deal with a demon. She should have fought harder.
Adam lay sprawled in a mess of blood and shattered glass, the blade used to slit his throat lying near his outstretched hand, each breath a struggle through the slice that had been taken out of him. His gasping need for air was drowning in his own life's blood, and even as she stumbled toward him, Natalya knew there was nothing she could do. "Nyet ....no, no, this is not right!"
Heedless of the blood that soon coated her hands, she reached to try and stem the flow, to will the fading light back into Adam's eyes by will alone. There was a sense of motion behind her, instinct spinning her about with a near feral snarl, panic lending a fiercesomeness to the Russian thief that would otherwise have been lacking. But there was no need.
"Be easy, Natalya Pimenova. We are here to complete the triad."
The attack never came. Instead, Adam felt a sudden blast of cool radiance wash over him, bolstering the energy he had thought he was losing. There was a scream, a harsh gutteral sound that could only be the death of his demon foe, and he realised he could dare a glance through his protectively raised arms to see what had happened. A being stood before him, wrapped in tulmultuous bright light, looming over the dissolving form of the demon that had almost won his battle.
It turned blazing eyes upon him, so bright as to be blinding, and though nothing was said, Adam realised that the only thing that could possibly have saved him was an angel. The angel reached out, tapping the fragile soul of Adam Sparrowhawk between his eyes, and in an instant, the spirit world was no more, replaced with the pain and shock of the mortal realm he had almost lost forever.
A sense of warmth rushed over the prone man even as his panic renewed, feeling the struggle for breath, the pain in his throat, the disturbing heat of blood drenching his skin and clothes. His eyes snapped open to find a man kneeling beside him ....just a man, as it might have seemed - nondescript face, brown hair, grey eyes - but for the lack of anything but compassion in that piercing gaze. This man had laid a palm on Adam's forehead, and even as Adam struggled with the inevitability of his mortal wound, it slowly began to heal. Flesh knitted, blood was swept away, his lungs were freed of the drowning liquid that was trying to fill them.
As this man, this angel, leant back, Adam rolled onto his side, coughing up one last mouthful of blood before his lungs felt completely clear. He felt clean, renewed, as though this being had not healed simply his body but his soul as well. Lifting wondering eyes to the angel in human form, he rubbed his neck gingerly, half-afraid he would find that appalling wound still there.
"Thank you," he managed in a rasping voice, gratitude he would never be able to fully express shining from his eyes as he tried to push himself up.
The angel reached out, taking Adam by the arms to raise him up onto his feet with seemingly no trouble at all. His voice, when he spoke, was light, almost too soft to hear easily. "You are well, Adam Sparrowhawk, but the battle is yet to begin. Do you have the strength to go on?"
"The strength to ..." What the hell are you talking about?" Did this being not care that he'd just come within half an inch of being completely beyond his place to care about the big battle that was coming" A little time to recuperate would have been nice. A little time to recharge his batteries, to check on ....
Adam's eyes widened suddenly as he realised what it was he had forgotten. "Natalya. Where is she?"
"She is here, Adam Sparrowhawk," another male voice interjected from behind him, this one seemingly stronger, more confident of his place. "She is well."
"I can tell him that myself, Mikhail." That voice was familiar, down to the almost imperceptible Russian inflection in the name she gave the speaker. Adam turned just in time to receive an armful of the real Natalya. For a moment, he stiffened, uncertain if this was yet more of the same trick played by the demons in his mind ....but she was not trying to do anything to him. She was not a temptation, imagined or otherwise.
Nat stepped back from her lover's friend, a little embarrassed to have thrown herself into his arms in the grip of the relief that seemed to color them both. "Forgive me, I ..." She shrugged, not quite knowing what to apologise for first.
Adam shook his head, reaching out to grip her shoulders. "They didn't hurt you, right?"
"Adam?"
Deep in the confines of the spirit walk, Adam stumbled back beneath the assault of the demon, his blade flickering in his hand. How long had he been fighting this battle" How much energy did he have left' If his mortal body was really in so much danger, how much longer would he be able to keep this up before the demon Natalya got in a lucky blow" He knew this evil creature would not hesitate to rip his soul from its place of safety and drag him to hell, given any chance at all.
A low screech warned him of another attack, the demon Natalya growing less and less human with every launching attack. She fought with claws and tail and teeth, and this time Adam knew he wouldn't be able to hold her off. He had no strength left, the vital energy that connected his soul with his body weakening with each passing moment. He raised the sword in his hands, and felt the sudden crash of despair as the weapon flickered out of sight and sense, needing energy he no longer had to remain corporeal. As he fell into a crouch, prepared to sell his soul dearly to this devilspawn, he thought of Rhys.
"I'm sorry, my brother. I failed."
As her eyes readjusted to the more natural light here on the mortal plane, the real Natalya found herself staring in open-mouthed horror at the scene she had been returned to. For a moment, she didn't see the destruction of the room - the glass shattered and covering everything, the furniture blown back against the far wall. She saw only the blood. So much blood, pouring from a deep gash in the throat of the man she had failed to protect. She should have known not to deal with a demon. She should have fought harder.
Adam lay sprawled in a mess of blood and shattered glass, the blade used to slit his throat lying near his outstretched hand, each breath a struggle through the slice that had been taken out of him. His gasping need for air was drowning in his own life's blood, and even as she stumbled toward him, Natalya knew there was nothing she could do. "Nyet ....no, no, this is not right!"
Heedless of the blood that soon coated her hands, she reached to try and stem the flow, to will the fading light back into Adam's eyes by will alone. There was a sense of motion behind her, instinct spinning her about with a near feral snarl, panic lending a fiercesomeness to the Russian thief that would otherwise have been lacking. But there was no need.
"Be easy, Natalya Pimenova. We are here to complete the triad."
The attack never came. Instead, Adam felt a sudden blast of cool radiance wash over him, bolstering the energy he had thought he was losing. There was a scream, a harsh gutteral sound that could only be the death of his demon foe, and he realised he could dare a glance through his protectively raised arms to see what had happened. A being stood before him, wrapped in tulmultuous bright light, looming over the dissolving form of the demon that had almost won his battle.
It turned blazing eyes upon him, so bright as to be blinding, and though nothing was said, Adam realised that the only thing that could possibly have saved him was an angel. The angel reached out, tapping the fragile soul of Adam Sparrowhawk between his eyes, and in an instant, the spirit world was no more, replaced with the pain and shock of the mortal realm he had almost lost forever.
A sense of warmth rushed over the prone man even as his panic renewed, feeling the struggle for breath, the pain in his throat, the disturbing heat of blood drenching his skin and clothes. His eyes snapped open to find a man kneeling beside him ....just a man, as it might have seemed - nondescript face, brown hair, grey eyes - but for the lack of anything but compassion in that piercing gaze. This man had laid a palm on Adam's forehead, and even as Adam struggled with the inevitability of his mortal wound, it slowly began to heal. Flesh knitted, blood was swept away, his lungs were freed of the drowning liquid that was trying to fill them.
As this man, this angel, leant back, Adam rolled onto his side, coughing up one last mouthful of blood before his lungs felt completely clear. He felt clean, renewed, as though this being had not healed simply his body but his soul as well. Lifting wondering eyes to the angel in human form, he rubbed his neck gingerly, half-afraid he would find that appalling wound still there.
"Thank you," he managed in a rasping voice, gratitude he would never be able to fully express shining from his eyes as he tried to push himself up.
The angel reached out, taking Adam by the arms to raise him up onto his feet with seemingly no trouble at all. His voice, when he spoke, was light, almost too soft to hear easily. "You are well, Adam Sparrowhawk, but the battle is yet to begin. Do you have the strength to go on?"
"The strength to ..." What the hell are you talking about?" Did this being not care that he'd just come within half an inch of being completely beyond his place to care about the big battle that was coming" A little time to recuperate would have been nice. A little time to recharge his batteries, to check on ....
Adam's eyes widened suddenly as he realised what it was he had forgotten. "Natalya. Where is she?"
"She is here, Adam Sparrowhawk," another male voice interjected from behind him, this one seemingly stronger, more confident of his place. "She is well."
"I can tell him that myself, Mikhail." That voice was familiar, down to the almost imperceptible Russian inflection in the name she gave the speaker. Adam turned just in time to receive an armful of the real Natalya. For a moment, he stiffened, uncertain if this was yet more of the same trick played by the demons in his mind ....but she was not trying to do anything to him. She was not a temptation, imagined or otherwise.
Nat stepped back from her lover's friend, a little embarrassed to have thrown herself into his arms in the grip of the relief that seemed to color them both. "Forgive me, I ..." She shrugged, not quite knowing what to apologise for first.
Adam shook his head, reaching out to grip her shoulders. "They didn't hurt you, right?"