Annie's Song(32)
“That bad, is it?” she whispered. He frowned at her. “You look—terrible.”
“And you need to take a look in the mirror, sweet.” When she tried to sit again, he gently pushed her down. It took little effort from him. “The death spell you are fighting will kill you faster, the more you move. I am doing all I can to prevent that, so please do not make it harder for me.”
“Sorry.” He did have a way with words that simply yanked the guilt right out. “Eric?”
“Is fine.” Eric moved into her line of sight, sporting a pair of crutches. “And wishing I could do more.”
“Have Marcus take a break.”
He shook his head. “I am fine, Claire.”
“Please,” she whispered, feeling what little strength she could muster fading. “I need to speak with Eric. Get some air. Give me a few minutes.”
Leaning in, he brushed his lips over hers. “If you up and die while I am gone, I swear to the heavens I will drag you back.”
“Wouldn’t want that.” She forced a smile, held it until he left, clearly not happy. “Eric.”
“I’m here.” He settled in the chair. “What is it?”
“Congratulations, Dad.” His smile could have lit the town. “I wanted to say it now, in case I—”
“Stop.” Eric took her hand, anger and fear coiling in the blue eyes. “Marcus isn’t the only one who will be furious with you.”
“I wish I could promise I’ll be—” A hoarse gasp cut her off, the fire burning deeper, faster. It hurt to breathe now, and a halo of grey surrounded Eric. “Give Annie my love,” she whispered. “And make me a promise.”
“Anything, Claire.”
“May want to—hear it first.”
“The answer is still yes, for me and Annie.”
“Look after Zach.” She closed her eyes, terrified that just speaking stole so much of her strength. “Let him know—I love him.”
“You’ll tell him yourself, damn it.”
“Love you, too, Eric. Stop blaming yourself—for what Natasha did.”
Surprise flared through the fear. “How—”
“Because I blame myself still.” It felt like an elephant was sitting on her chest. She struggled to take in the next breath, her fingers shaking against his. Eric tightened his grip. “Please tell Annie . . . that I am proud. Always have been.”
She closed her eyes. Just keeping them open exhausted her. She knew she was dying, and it didn’t carry the fear, or the panic it once did for her. Maybe having a soul changed that. The chance that she wouldn’t be thrown back into Hell made dying easier to accept. She hated hurting those she would leave behind her, but they had each other, and would be able to take care of—
“Open your eyes—damn it, Claire, don’t you give up, do you hear? Annie’s coming back with that counter spell, so you damn well better hang on until she gets here.”
“Do my—” Her breath gave out before she could finish. She fought to take in another, and started to panic when her lungs refused to obey.
“Claire.” Eric’s hand cradled her cheek. She could feel the pressure of his fingers, feel them tremble against her skin. “Claire, sweetheart. Open your eyes. Please, open your eyes—Annie will never forgive me—”
“Claire!” Marcus, smelling of musk, sand and wind, reminding her of the desert he came from. She wanted to breathe it in, to take that scent, and the sound of his voice with her. “No, Claire. Don’t you give up on me. Claire . . .”
As she fell, his voice surrounded her, cradled her, made the journey to death one of joy rather than sorrow.
Take care, Marcus. I love you. I will always love you—from now until the end of forever.
*
“Stay down!” Annie shouted at Zach as the elemental swiped at her again. This time it came too close, leaving the skin on her wrist red and raw. She didn’t have time to watch him, since she was too busy keeping herself between him and the elemental, keeping it from leaving the confines of the blocking spell she reinforced with her own, and trying to vanquish it. Sweet God above—how was she supposed to vanquish it? “Zach!”
“Yeah?” She smiled at the impatient tone. Claire tried so hard to give him the life a normal teenager would have. It seemed to be working.
“Any idea how to banish a fire elemental?”
“Are you kidding me? Is that what it is?” He sounded—fascinated. “I don’t know—throw water on it?”
“Not a bad idea, if I had any—”