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The quiet voices gradually pulled Zach back to the world of the living.
He swallowed, the memories of what had happened filling his mind. He took an inventory before he let them know he was awake.
His body was one giant ache. Every inch felt like it had been pummeled. He also felt—hollowed out, the constant hum of the power he fought every day to keep under control just gone.
“Hey—I think he’s awake.” Misty’s voice washed over him, and he realized she held his hand. “Zach? Open your eyes for me. Come on, golden boy, let me see those beautiful blue eyes.”
He gathered up his strength, wanting to see her, to make sure she was okay. It took a few tries before he could focus. When he did, her smile was worth all the effort.
“Hey,” he whispered.
“Hey, yourself.” She leaned in and kissed him, and he didn’t care that everyone else in the room saw it. Misty was here, she was safe, and he’d survived. How much he gave up to do it was a question for later. “Do you feel as terrible as you look?”
“Duh.”
Her laughter was better than any pain medication. She kissed him again. “Your mom wants a little alone time with you. I’ll be right outside. You were magnificent as an angel, Zach,” she whispered. “But I love who you are now better.”
Before he could get past the shock, she stood and kissed Mom’s cheek before she walked out of the bedroom. Annie and Simon moved to the bed, Annie giving him the stink eye.
“You shouldn’t have tried something that stupid alone, bud.”
“You weren’t there to help me with it.”
A smile flashed across her face. “I wish I had been. I’m up to here with demons.” She held her hand up to her forehead, then glanced over at Mom. “No offense.”
“None taken, Annie.”
“Be good and stay in bed for a while.”
“Okay.”
She leaned down and kissed his cheek. “You really had us scared, Zach. Don’t do it again.”
He was pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to.
Simon sat in the chair next to Zach’s bed and crossed his arms, and Zach braced himself for another reprimand. “How did you send Ariel back?”
“Didn’t Misty tell you?” Man, his voice sounded terrible. Like he’d been screaming in his sleep.
“She said you spoke in Latin, and Ariel started screeching like he was being tortured. It was a banishment, wasn’t it?” Zach nodded. “How did you get him out of the body he was possessing?”
“I found his weakness, and exploited it. His weakness was Mom’s grace.”
Mom gasped, and when she started to move forward Marcus caught her around the waist.
“Let me go—”
“He needs to finish, Claire, before you touch him.”
The implications drove into Zach. “I’m not—dangerous.” Just the opposite.
Simon took his hand, and muttered under his breath. “Sorry. Elias is playing commentator again. He’s glad to see you survived Ariel, by the way.”
“Thanks.”
“Misty gave a pretty good account, but I think she was still in shock. Tell us what happened.”
Zach did, his voice raw and his throat aching by the time he finished, even with constant sips of water.
“I think—” He looked at Simon, then finally, at Mom. The pain in her eyes tore at him. “I think the grace burned out my powers.”
“Out,” Mom said. “All of you.” She threw the last words at Marcus, who looked like he was about to burst. Instead, he nodded, his green eyes flashing as they met Zach’s. Without a word, he stalked out of the bedroom. “Simon. I need to be alone with my son.”
Simon kissed Zach’s forehead and stood, doing the same to Mom. “He’s going to be all right, Claire. Whatever happens,” his clear, intense green eyes seemed to look straight into Zach’s hollowed out center. “We’ll all be all right.”
After a fast, fierce hug, he let her go and left them alone.
“Zach.” Mom sat next to him on the bed—and for the first time since they came back from England she looked healthy. No circles under her eyes, carefully hidden by makeup. “Oh, Zach.”
She gathered him into her arms and rocked him. He held on to her, his throat tight, tears slipping free. There was no regret—he’d do what he did again in a heartbeat, even knowing what he’d give up. He just felt—lost. And unsure for the first time in a long time.
Finally, Mom eased back, and wiped her face, letting out a watery laugh. “My beautiful boy.” She cradled his cheek, brushing at his tears. “Not a boy any longer. Maybe not ever.”
“I was. Mom.” He laid his hand over hers, needing her to understand. “I became your boy the second you said yes. I love you for that, more than I can ever express. You took in a selfish, self-absorbed guardian angel, and turned him into a boy who knew how to love, how to care, how to give. I’d never do any of it differently.”
More tears slid down her face, and Zach pulled her into his arms again. Slowly, what had felt hollow when he woke started to fill, with the love he had for this amazing woman, for the amazing girl in the next room, and all the people who made up his family.
He didn’t need special gifts, or talents, or the power he thought he let go of when he fell. He had a charmed life, and a future with someone who had turned his life upside down, then gave it meaning.
“I’m sorry,” Mom said, straightening. “I’ve been so worried for you, that your powers would attract someone, or something, that could tear you apart. Not only physically, Zach. I know you can take care of yourself. But spiritually you are still so young, with a vulnerable soul. Part of me is relieved that you seem to have lost those powers.”
“I’m not going to miss the double-me-over pain. Can you do me a favor? Say the F word?”
Mom gripped his hands, and took it a step further. “I need you to find my keys, Zach.”
He held his breath. Nothing—not even a twinge. Mom studied him, and he shook his head.
“Nope.”
“All right.” She let out a sigh, looking as exhausted as he felt. “Are you hungry?”
“Starving. How long have I been out?”
“Three days.”
His eyes widened. “Whoa. No wonder you were all hovering.”
She smiled—a real smile. “Duh.”
Zach burst out laughing. Or tried to. His throat seized up, and he started coughing. His eyes were watering by the time he was able to take a sip of water from the glass Mom held. She set it on the nightstand and rubbed his back.
“I’m going to get you some soup. Just soup, Zach, so don’t ask. Your stomach needs to work its way back up to Lily’s roast beef.”
“Okay.” He waited until Mom left, then lowered himself to the bed, groaning as every muscle protested.
What he had done when he was in the basement—tearing free of the rope, sending Ariel back to the gates of Hell—imprinted itself on every inch of his battered body. He could tell that Marcus had done some healing, since he didn’t have bruises, but the bone deep ache was something only time could heal completely.
The door opened, and his heart skipped when Misty walked in, holding a tray with soup and what looked like some crackers on a plate. He hated crackers—they always reminded him of his first weeks as a mortal, when he thought he’d been in some kind of accident. Mom had treated him with kid gloves, and all he could eat at first was liquids, with some crackers soaking in soup to fill him up, soft and disgusting. Those crackers were staying on the plate.
“Your mom thought you might want some company while you ate.”
“She’s the best.”
Misty flinched at his raw voice. “You need to stop talking. I’ll be happy to fill you in, since you lost three days.”
He opened his mouth to answer, and nodded instead. Misty lowered the tray to his lap and sat next to him, picking up the spoon like she meant to feed him.
“Just handing it to you, golden boy, so stop looking so panicked.” He started eating, and the second the first spoonful of broth slid down his throat, his appetite came roaring back. “Good, isn’t it? Claire’s been cooking all this time, to keep herself busy. She loves you so much—”
Her voice cracked, and she covered her face. Zach set down his spoon and cupped her chin, gently applying pressure until she looked at him.
“Talk,” he whispered.
“I’ve been so scared, Zach. You collapsed in the basement, and you were hardly breathing. Only the fact that Simon could track you kept us from spending more time down there. I wasn’t going to leave you,” she said, when he opened his mouth. “Not then,” she leaned over and kissed him. “Not now.”
Light flashed off something on her left hand. He lifted it, his throat dry when he saw the ring.
“Mom—”
“Helped me pick it out.” Zach touched the amethyst heart, side by side with the rich lapis heart and wrapped in silver. “She said the amethyst was for you.” Misty touched the dark purple point he wore. “And the lapis for me. When I was sitting in that basement, praying for every breath, I promised myself something. I promised that if we got out of there, I’d marry you, in the fall, under the stars.”
“Fall?” he whispered. His heart pounded, with excitement and terror. “Is that enough—”
“Claire has already started planning. All you have to do, my beautiful fiancé, is wear the suit I pick out for you, and show up.”
“I—” He swallowed, then kissed her hand, so happy he felt dizzy. “I do.”