Highborn. Part 22

He moved on without waiting for a response, and Brynna saw Mireva's shoulders tense. "Mireva?"

"I really need to take a quick break," she said unhappily. "I should've gone ten minutes ago, and now ..."

"I'll stand in for you," Kodi said. She leaned around Brynna and Eran, peering down the center aisle. "I've been to dozens of these things, and they don't move that quickly. You've got at least ten minutes, and even if they get here before you return, I know every person on the panel. I know I can persuade them to hold off, maybe talk to one or two others and then come back."

Mireva looked relieved. "Really?"

"Sure." Kodi turned the other way, where Dave's retreating figure could just be glimpsed heading out of the exhibit hall. "I've never seen that guy before. He's probably just some new clerk on a little control trip-do this, move here, don't breathe. You know the type." She looked back at Mireva. "Go. Turn right when you get out of the exhibition hall. You'll see the coal mine room, and the restrooms are to the left of it."

"Thanks," Mireva said. "Just give me five minutes."

Then she was out from behind her table and slipping into the crowd. Brynna watched her go as Eran regarded Kodi. "So," he said. "That was quite the experience you had over at the precinct, huh? You know, I never got the full skinny on what happened."

"Oh, G.o.d," Kodi said. "You aren't kidding. I never never want to go through something like that again. I must've had want to go through something like that again. I must've had VICTIM VICTIM invisibly tattooed across my forehead, because those women went after me the second I got put in there. If it hadn't been for Brynna-" invisibly tattooed across my forehead, because those women went after me the second I got put in there. If it hadn't been for Brynna-"

Brynna heard the conversation, but she wasn't really listening. Her thoughts were twisting around and around, like a bunch of mental snakes trying to become untangled. How strange was it that Kodi, whose name she'd never bothered to learn at the police station, had turned up here at Mireva's science fair? The idea that it was a "small world" was bulls.h.i.t; with over eight million people, the city of Chicago was the third largest in the country, and the odds of meeting Kodi again when you had completely different lifestyles were astronomical. Add to the situation that Kodi's father was involved with the museum and the girl knew the judges ... well, it was pretty solidly on the side of not-a-coincidence. Then there was Dave, the staff member Kodi had never met and who'd told Mireva she couldn't leave her table. Yet because of her ties at the museum, Kodi had been here to let Mireva do just that.

Everything happens for a reason.

Kodi would not have been here had Brynna not been at the police station to pull her out of the piranha-infested holding cell. Mireva would have sucked it up and stayed put, not wanting to chance that the judges would knock her out of the running on the basis of a few unanswered questions.

Brynna scowled, thinking about how Mireva had said her stomach was bugging her. That just didn't seem right-nephilim never got ill, were never plagued by the mult.i.tude of biological ailments that generally tormented a normal human's body. She squinted toward the hall's main entrance, but there was no sign of Mireva, or of the elusive Dave. Who was he? Just another new employee? Or someone else, another tool being wielded by Lahash? There was too much at stake here-namely Mireva-for Brynna not to make sure everything was copacetic.

"I'm going to check on Mireva."

Eran looked at her in surprise. "What-is something wrong?"

Brynna was already moving, and he followed without hesitating. Kodi watched them go, her expression bewildered. "I hope not," Brynna said over her shoulder. "But I'm going to make d.a.m.ned sure."

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IT WAS UNSETTLING HOW quickly the lie had come out of her mouth. quickly the lie had come out of her mouth.

Mireva hurried toward the women's restroom, weaving smoothly among the people milling in front of the tables. There wasn't a thing in the world wrong with her, and it was a good thing her mom and uncle hadn't been around to hear that complete fabrication about her nerves and the science fair making her stomach disagreeable. Had she been nervous? Well, duh. But she'd never been physically sick a day in her life.

There were even more visitors milling around the museum's huge central foyer, drawn, no doubt, by the Harry Potter Harry Potter exhibition. Maybe when the science fair was over, for better or worse-and she sure hoped it would be for better-she could go up front and take a look. Normally she wouldn't have been able to afford it, but the science fair contestants had been given a special day pa.s.s. She'd like to take a look at the baby chick hatchery too. exhibition. Maybe when the science fair was over, for better or worse-and she sure hoped it would be for better-she could go up front and take a look. Normally she wouldn't have been able to afford it, but the science fair contestants had been given a special day pa.s.s. She'd like to take a look at the baby chick hatchery too.

The restrooms were right where Kodi had said they'd be, and Mireva hurried into the women's room, still not sure why she'd felt so strongly that she had to get here. And to lie about it? Wow-she'd never been a liar. Hearing those words come out of her own mouth had been like having her brain taken over by aliens or something. Plus, now that she was inside, well ... hey. It looked perfectly normal, like countless other women's restrooms she'd seen. Tiled walls and a water-splashed floor beneath a row of sinks with mirrors above them, paper towel holders, square trash bins, a row of stalls. Mireva's need to get in here had been all-consuming, like a firefighter responding to a midnight alarm. So where the h.e.l.l was the fire?

There was a woman washing her hands at a sink while another lady a few feet away refreshed her lipstick. Feeling self-conscious, Mireva went to an empty sink and smoothed her hair, trying to look like she had a reason for being there when in reality she thought she was acting like some kind of weirdo. Mrs. Lipstick finished up and walked out, while the first, a pleasant-looking woman in her midfifties, was still studiously scrubbing her hands; she reminded Mireva of the way surgeons on reality medical shows scrubbed up. She had dark hair that was starting to go silver at the temples, and when she glanced at Mireva and smiled, her brown eyes were warm and friendly. An expensive leather bag that Mireva a.s.sumed belonged to her was resting on the narrow metal shelf beneath the mirror. "Enjoying the museum?"

Mireva made herself smile back. "Yes, thank you." Why did she suddenly feel so tense?

"I saw you in the science fair, didn't I?" When Mireva nodded, the woman continued, "That's the whole reason I came downtown on a Sat.u.r.day, you know. I'm a professor at Wright College. I teach human and organismal biology. I've been through the museum a dozen times, but I'm always interested in the compet.i.tive science fairs, especially at the precollege level. Seeing what the high school students come up with is like looking through a telescope into the future." She finally rinsed and gave her hands a shake, then turned and stepped toward the paper towel dispenser. "Refresh my memory, please. What's your project-"

It happened so fast that Mireva almost didn't make it.

One wrong step, the slightly off-balance turn of a low-heel shoe, the smallest pool of water in front of one of the sinks.

The professor's hip twisted and she fell sideways as her foot slipped forward. Nothing in the restroom was soft, but Mireva was there before the older woman lost it completely; faster than she'd ever thought she could move, both hands shot out and Mireva grabbed the woman by the shoulders and pulled her forward. Momentum carried them both down but Mireva's hold softened the impact. The landing was still hard enough to make Mireva's teeth click together, but nothing, on either of them, was broken. The professor's breath went out of her in a gasp, then her eyes widened when she turned her head and realized that her temple had missed the sharp corner of the metal trash bin by scarcely half an inch.

"Wow," Mireva said as she untangled herself. "That was close. Are you okay?"

"I am, thank you very much. Banged my knee pretty hard, though." The professor shook her head. "That was certainly ... embarra.s.sing."

Mireva gave the woman a shaky grin and got to her feet, then extended her hand. It was so ridiculous-was being here to stop this teacher from hitting her head the whole reason she'd felt such an urge to get to the restroom? First of all, it didn't make any sense; secondly, if that had had been it, why didn't she feel any better? The woman reached for the hand Mireva offered. "My name is Lydia D'Amato. And you-" been it, why didn't she feel any better? The woman reached for the hand Mireva offered. "My name is Lydia D'Amato. And you-"

"Hel-lo, ladies." ladies."

Mireva's head snapped around at the sound of the oily male voice. Beneath her fingers, she felt Professor D'Amato's hand stiffen. "What are you doing in here, young man? The men's room is down the hall." The professor grabbed the side of the sink and started to pull herself up, but Mireva instinctively stepped backward, cutting her off and forcing her to stay on the floor. She looked up at Mireva, surprised. "Would you help me up, please?"

"Yeah, Mireva. Help her up, why don't you?" The guy had let the restroom door swing shut behind him and now he blocked it with his foot. He looked young and gang dangerous; despite the air-conditioning he was sweating heavily and the dark, curly hair that was bunched under his baseball cap was stringy and wet. The eyes that regarded her from beneath the cap's brim were black as coal and callous, utterly without feeling.

Mireva's brow furrowed and she stared at him. Instead of giving the professor some room, she let go of the woman's hand and crowded her even more, pinning the woman against the tiled wall. "Who are you? How do you know my name?"

He shrugged one muscular shoulder, and the movement reminded her, strangely, of Gavino. "Let's just say we have a mutual amigo. amigo."

Stress was making Mireva's temples pulse, but still she tried to sort it out. A mutual friend? Who? Gavino was dead, and this hoodlum sure wouldn't be on Face-book terms with Brynna or Detective Redmond. So who- Her stomach twisted as a not-so-long-ago conversation with Brynna flashed through her memory. It had to be Mr. Lahash, the creep who'd masqueraded as a sponsor from Purdue University, and who Brynna said had sent Gavino, and that crazy serial killer, to try to murder her. This guy must be Lahash's latest mercenary. "Look," she said. "What's the deal with all this, anyway? I'm n.o.body. There's nothing to be gained by killing me." Her words triggered a sharp breath from the professor, but Mireva still wouldn't budge.

"You got that right." The guy pulled a knife from his pocket and flipped it open. Mireva inhaled, but instead of coming after her, he leaned back against the door and started sc.r.a.ping at the filth under his fingernails with the tip.

Behind her, Professor D'Amato tried again to push her way free. "Mireva-that's your name, right? Mireva, get out of the way and let me talk to him."

"No," Mireva hissed. She reached back with one hand and easily pressed the older woman back down. People were always surprised at how strong she was, had even said she was stronger than she should be. But Mireva had always taken her strength for granted. After all, she was over six feet tall-of course she was strong. "You stay there. there."

The guy's snakelike gaze fixed not on Mireva but on the woman on the floor behind her. "As I was saying, you're right. Our friend isn't much interested in you anymore." He dug below another fingernail and Mireva grimaced inside; his nails were sharp and long-too long for a man-and so dirty they were discolored. For some reason she knew they were very, very strong. "See," he continued, "I was supposed to get over here and take care of you before you met up with the old lady. You weren't even supposed to get to the bathroom. Sadly, I'm late." He made a tsk tsk sound with his lips. "Gotta love the Sat.u.r.day crowds." sound with his lips. "Gotta love the Sat.u.r.day crowds."

"So go away, then." Mireva lifted her chin. She was dizzy, her breath coming in short, shallow inhalations that were just shy of hyperventilating. But she would not show fear to this piece of street garbage. "If you blew it, then there's nothing-"

"Oh, but there is. is." He smirked. "The man don't take failure for an answer, you get my meaning? He said if I'm late, then I have to do a two-for-one once I find out who you're talking to. So now I know. That means Grandma goes first, then you." The guy straightened and flipped the knife around and up. The movement had a fluidity to it that spoke of way too much practice. "I don't usually work that cheap, but this time it seems I gotta make an exception. Because, you know, witnesses have big, noisy mouths."

Mireva watched him come toward her, but for some reason, she was no longer afraid. Her racing pulse had calmed, and the lightheadedness that had been seeping through her a moment ago was also gone. Instead, everything had become clear and crisp, like she was suddenly seeing the world through an ultrasharp camera lens. This, she realized, was somehow the single most important moment of her life. She didn't know how she knew that, or why, but everything that had happened, everything that was her, her, had led up to right now. had led up to right now.

"Get out of the way," he said.

"No."

The restroom wasn't that big and he was across the few feet that separated them in barely more than a second. He drove forward with the knife but Mireva caught his wrist and swept it aside, fingers clamping onto his flesh with every bit of strength she had. His weight slammed her backward and vaguely she heard Professor D'Amato cry out. She tried to bring her knee up and into his crotch but there wasn't enough room, so she settled for smashing the heel of her shoe against his instep.

He cursed when he couldn't yank free of her grip, then punched her in the side of the head with his other fist; Mireva didn't feel it. She was as tall as he was and her right hand was jammed between her chest and his. As they grappled with each other, jerking back and forth, she managed to wriggle her hand up until her fingers were just past his jawline. When the tips of her nails grazed the stubble-covered flesh of his face, Mireva curled her fingers into hooks and dug in as deeply and viciously as she could. He howled and tried to jerk back but she followed, plastering her body against his and propelling him backward in an attempt to put as much distance as possible between him and the professor. Beneath her attacker's bellows of rage was another sound-Professor D'Amato was screaming, filling the small room with the shrill sounds of attention-drawing panic.

The two of them ricocheted off the stalls and sinks until they finally crashed against the door. She still had a lock on his knife hand, was still trying her best to maul the b.a.s.t.a.r.d's face, when he whipped his head to the left and his teeth clamped down on her fingers. She shrieked and he seemed to feed on the sound of her agony, grinding down, sc.r.a.ping bone, then shaking his head like a wild dog. Mireva wasn't prepared for the pain. It was overwhelming, all-consuming, like nothing she'd ever experienced. Even the noise of someone hammering on the other side of the metal bathroom door wasn't enough to keep her mind focused on anything but the complete and utter agony ratcheting through her hand and up her forearm. Now she she was the one trying to pull away and he was following was the one trying to pull away and he was following her her as the door was being shoved open. They were headed back toward where Professor D'Amato was- as the door was being shoved open. They were headed back toward where Professor D'Amato was- No!

She had no choice but to let go with her left hand.

Mireva brought her hand up, driving her palm against his cheekbone and jamming her thumb deep into his right eye. He staggered, braying with pain; she kept pushing backward, harder and harder. They were moving back and forth in an insane dance and she was determined to keep the distance between him and the professor. Something flashed once in the corner of her eye, then again, and he was still biting her, he was going to bite her d.a.m.ned fingers right off, off, but she was too wrapped up in the anguish of that and the overwhelming need to keep this wannabe killer away from the woman behind her to know what it was. Everything about her had condensed into this single instance in time, and she would not fail, she but she was too wrapped up in the anguish of that and the overwhelming need to keep this wannabe killer away from the woman behind her to know what it was. Everything about her had condensed into this single instance in time, and she would not fail, she could could not. not.

And even as the left side of her neck went numb and cold and she heard Brynna and Detective Redmond shouting, Mireva was still holding on to her a.s.sailant and trying to drag him down to the cold, cold tile floor.

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BRYNNA WOULD HAVE KILLED Juan if Eran hadn't gotten into the room first. Juan if Eran hadn't gotten into the room first.

When the door gave way, he almost fell into the restroom. Then he was moving forward and catching Juan's b.l.o.o.d.y, upraised hand, fast but still not fast enough. There was so much blood-Brynna saw streaks of it running down Juan's face, splatters on both of Mireva's hands, a glistening red sheet of it falling from the girl's neck downward- Dear G.o.d, Brynna thought. Her neck neck!

Eran spun Juan away from Mireva and slammed him face-first against one of the stalls. For a single, shocked moment Mireva just stood there, perfectly balanced with her hands still up in a fighting stance. Brynna felt more than saw Eran's head turn toward the teenager; when Mireva toppled forward, Brynna caught her and let her go gently to the floor, cradling her and feeling the girl's life rush past her in a breeze of sweet, sun-filled ocean air that no one else in the room could smell but her. Mireva's eyes, always so dark, lightened to a sparkling tan for just an instant, and Brynna knew that somewhere on the other side of eternity, the girl was seeing the face of G.o.d.

Brynna pulled Mireva closer and pressed her cheek against the girl's hair. And for the first time in all of her long, long existence, Brynna cried.

Epilogue.

Brynna had never experienced grief like this.

There was sorrow in h.e.l.l, of course, but it was selfish, the sorrow of the soul as it realized too late the wrongs done and the eternal d.a.m.ning of itself. No soul banished to h.e.l.l thought of those it had wronged or hurt or murdered; there was only the punishment to be endured, the never-ending pain of the now and the seemingly endless torment to come.

Yet here, on an afternoon bursting with summer sunshine, birdsong, and the too-strong scent of roses and carnations, the anguish of Mireva's family seemed to rival the worst of what she'd ever seen in Lucifer's Kingdom. Their loss was so huge it was nearly suffocating; it coupled with the pain that Brynna was still feeling and left her bewildered and confused, helpless to sort out her own emotions as she struggled, with abject inexperience, to find something comforting to say to Ramiro and Abrienda.

"All that," Eran said in a low voice, "and it still ends like this."

They were standing on the other side of Mireva's grave, giving the family their own s.p.a.ce as the light blue casket was slowly lowered. Green felt had been draped over the edges of the hole to hide the dirt, but Brynna doubted that made anyone feel better-it was still a cold, dark hole in the earth. To humankind, Brynna suspected this was the worst part. It must be so very difficult for them to hold on to faith and the promise of G.o.d's eternal light while at the same time consigning the remains of a loved one to the indifference of darkness.

"She fulfilled her destiny," Brynna told Eran quietly. "She did what He required, and her soul is in G.o.d's hands now."

Eran's eyes were shadowed and fixed on the small mantle of roses at the head of the casket, watching as it disappeared from sight. "Did she? How can you be sure?"

"I felt it," she said. "She died in my arms, and I saw her whole task and why." He looked at her, his eyes troubled. "The woman in the bathroom, Professor D'Amato-did you notice that she went back to the science fair after all the police and medical personnel left?"

"No. I got her statement but then I had to deal with Juan." He practically spit out the name.

"I think she was just trying to clear her head, and she wanted to take one more look at Mireva's project-the girl had just saved her life. A couple of tables over was a young man who'd been trying for a scholarship for three years but never quite made it. Like Mireva, he's smart and hardworking, but he doesn't have the money to go to college. He always fell just a little short on his studies because he worked-his mother is disabled."

"What does this have to do with Mireva's task, or whatever you call it?"

"This was his last attempt," Brynna said quietly. "He was going to give up this time, get a job and go to a community college part-time." Brynna raised her head and gazed at the sky, feeling the sun on her face. "Professor D'Amato stopped at his exhibit while he was packing up. She convinced him to try one more time, told him that nothing good should ever been given up on."

Eran scowled. "That's it? Mireva died for that that?"

"I could see what's going to happen in my head," Brynna said with a faint, sad smile. "You see, next year he'll win the scholarship, and someday he'll be a doctor in the same field as that professor. They'll meet again and she'll mentor him, and eventually the research that he does will be pivotal in discovering a major treatment for AIDS. Without Mireva's intervention, the professor would have died and he would have never become more than ... what do you call them? A physician's a.s.sistant."

Eran said nothing, and Brynna knew he was turning this over in his mind. It was hard to refute the result, the sacrifice of one for the good of many, but that didn't lessen the pain when you had come to care for the sacrificial lamb. For her own part, Brynna sought redemption and had chosen this path to find it, yet she had never bargained for the affection she had learned as a human, had never considered that as a result of protecting a nephilim, the nephilim might die anyway. She'd never thought it would ache like this, down to her very core. Was the redemption she so desired worth the pain of caring for these humans?

"Do they always die?" Eran asked suddenly. "Is that how it always ends?"

Brynna blinked. "No. I have no idea how many go either way, but ... no. They don't always die."

He went silent again and she watched him surrept.i.tiously as he thought about her answer, and she thought about him. Her affection for him was growing, day by day, dangerously so-she wanted to be with him, looked forward to seeing him, missed missed him when he wasn't there. Yet he was so fragile, so temporary, and just being around her put him in constant danger. Lahash was still out there. He might be beaten for a time, but he would lick his wounds and return-they always did. To the cutthroat soldiers of h.e.l.l, Brynna was a walking example of what Professor D'Amato had told that young man: a prize you shouldn't stop trying to get. him when he wasn't there. Yet he was so fragile, so temporary, and just being around her put him in constant danger. Lahash was still out there. He might be beaten for a time, but he would lick his wounds and return-they always did. To the cutthroat soldiers of h.e.l.l, Brynna was a walking example of what Professor D'Amato had told that young man: a prize you shouldn't stop trying to get.

"Look," Eran said suddenly. "It's Kodi."

Brynna followed his pointing finger and saw the blond-haired girl standing off to one side, away from the family and alone in her misery. A small bouquet of flowers was bunched in her fists and even from this distance, Brynna could see the young woman's face was swollen and red from crying. "Come on," Brynna said. "Let's go talk to her."

Kodi stared at the ground as they walked up, too miserable to look at them. Before either Brynna or Eran could say anything, she blurted, "It's my fault, you know. Who said I had to be the good guy and watch her d.a.m.ned table? If I hadn't done that, she couldn't have left. She would have never gone to the bathroom, would have never-"

Brynna put her hand on the girl's arm and squeezed. "Everything happens for a reason, Kodi. If Mireva hadn't gone to the bathroom, that guy would have killed Professor D'Amato. It seems to me that G.o.d's purpose was for Mireva to be there, there, not the other way around. And that means He meant for you to be where you were, too." not the other way around. And that means He meant for you to be where you were, too."

Kodi sniffed and dragged the fingers of one hand across her eyes, wiping angrily at the moisture. "I wouldn't take you for a religious person."

Brynna smiled. "You'd be surprised at just how religious I am."

Kodi looked back at the grave site, where the family had turned and were slowly making their way back to their cars. Crying had made the scars on her cheek darken, and another tear glided over them. "Then you believe she's okay, right? I mean, wherever she is."

Brynna slipped her arm around the girl's shoulders and hugged her, feeling strangely fulfilled that she could offer an honest bit of rea.s.surance. "Yes, Kodi. I really do."

AFTER K KODI LEFT, BRYNNA and Eran walked back to his car without speaking. What was he thinking right now, this human man who was trying so stubbornly to pin his heart to hers? She didn't know, but she thought that in time, he would tell her. and Eran walked back to his car without speaking. What was he thinking right now, this human man who was trying so stubbornly to pin his heart to hers? She didn't know, but she thought that in time, he would tell her. In time In time ... it was such a complicated concept. She could fight until the end of eternity, but she would never be able to eliminate all the demons under Lucifer's control. Yet if she could make one small difference for someone, make things somehow ... it was such a complicated concept. She could fight until the end of eternity, but she would never be able to eliminate all the demons under Lucifer's control. Yet if she could make one small difference for someone, make things somehow better, better, then perhaps it had all been worth it. then perhaps it had all been worth it.

Eran came with her to the pa.s.senger side and unlocked the door, but as he reached to open it for her, he hesitated, then peered at her shoulder. "How did that get there?"

She turned her head. "What?"

"Your feather."

Her eyes widened and she carefully lifted the snow-colored feather from her shoulder. She held it up and they both stared at it.

"No," she said softly. "I still have mine." She turned slightly and slipped her other hand inside her blouse. When she pulled it back out, her angel feather was between her fingers, a twin to the one that had drifted onto her shoulder. Held close together, their radiance intensified, shimmering with a glow that could never be replicated on Earth. "I think this is a ... gift."

"So now you have two," he said thoughtfully. He gave her a small, crooked smile. "At this rate, you have a long way to go before you get your wings back."

But Brynna only smiled. "It's not the quant.i.ty that matters, Eran. It's the quality."

She tucked the two feathers safely away and slid into the car, content for a time and knowing that she was, indeed, on the path to redemption.