Sandy flipped her phone shut. “The doctor is on his way. I’ll get Nathaniel.” She raced down the hallway.
Lily followed them into a room. “Luke?”
Luke guided the wounded man toward the bed. “Lily, you should leave.”
She stood defiant. “What happened to him?”
“I have never seen anyone this bad before.” Danyal grunted as he helped Luke lift the man onto the gurney. “I don’t know if he’s going to make it.”
Micah moaned, prying one bloodstained eye open. “He…he did this to me.”
Danyal moved to Micah’s side. “Shush, don’t talk. It’s going to be all right. The doc is on his way. He’s going to fix this.”
“He did…this.” Blood trickled from his mouth.
Lily leaned forward, but Luke grabbed her arm, swinging her away from the gurney.
She pulled out of his grasp. “Luke, what the hell happened out there?”
Luke cursed, rummaging through the cabinet until he found what he was looking for. He pulled out a box of needles and a bag of tranquilizer potent enough to take out a horse.
Danyal stripped off the remains of Micah’s shirt, exposing what was left of him. Lily covered her mouth, stepping back into Michael. He steadied her, tried to be some comfort, but even he had to look away.
Luke jabbed the needle into Micah’s arm as he whispered to him. Within seconds, the Nephilim drifted off into unconsciousness. Luke pushed away from the bed, closing his eyes briefly. When they reopened, his pale eyes found Lily.
Call it intuition or a terrible sense of foreboding, but Michael placed his hand at the small of Lily’s back.
“What?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.
“It was Julian who did this to him,” Luke said, never once breaking eye contact with Lily.
Her face paled to the point that Michael feared she’d pass out. “No. He wouldn’t…” She turned to Danyal, who had retreated to a corner. “He didn’t.”
Danyal peered up through his fingers. “It is true.”
“I saw him do it, Lily!” Luke said, holding her gaze. “You should have let Micah kill him when he had the chance. Now look what’s happened to him. Your precious Julian did this. This is what you’ve risked everything for!”
“That’s enough, Luke,” Nathaniel ordered coolly as he entered the room.
“Enough?” He turned to him. “Will it be enough when we carry Danyal back here? When we carry Lily? Will it be enough then? He’s a Fallen! This is what they do!”
Lily tore away from them, storming from the room, her eyes glinting with horror and anger. Michael started after her.
“Let her go, Michael.” Nathaniel turned to the receptionist. “When will the doctor be here?”
She cleared her throat, her eyes fastened to Nathaniel. “Should only be a few minutes.”
“Please make sure Lily is in her room. Lock her in if necessary.” He faced Michael. “You should leave,” Nathaniel ordered quietly. “You don’t need to see this.”
It was too late for wiping this memory from his head. Staring down at Micah sprawled lifelessly across the gurney, he now saw firsthand the violence between the Nephilim and the Fallen. Never had he seen such utter destruction or so much blood. It pooled on the floor beneath the bed in such great amounts that Micah shouldn’t even be alive at this point.
“Are you sure it was Julian?” Nathaniel asked as he placed his hand over Micah’s head. His intense stare met Luke. When the Nephilim nodded, he rose. “Where did this happen?”
“I don’t know,” Danyal answered.
Michael had forgotten about him. He looked over and saw the detective had his head in his bloodstained hands.
Before Nathaniel could respond, Sandy returned. “Nathaniel?”
He inclined his head sharply, not missing the dire tone in her voice. “Don’t tell me.”
She looked stricken and afraid. Stray hairs had come undone, and her fingers twitched at her side. “I went to Lily’s room,” she said. Her nervous glance bounced off Nathaniel and Micah. “She’s gone.”
Luke went rigid.
Michael’s stomach dropped. He turned to Nathaniel, praying his suspicion wasn’t spot-on. “She wouldn’t.” He glanced down at Micah. “No, she wouldn’t.”
Nathaniel met his stare. “Lily would. She went after Julian.”
Chapter Twenty-seven
Lily raced through the downpour, slipping over the rain-slicked roofs and down ledges. Nothing could erase the image of Micah’s torn body.
Let me take care of Micah? No. No. No.
Had he done this for her? Oh God, she was going to be sick.
It didn’t matter that she suspected Micah. He hadn’t deserved that. No one deserved that.
She stumbled, then fell. Sliding down the slate roof of an old factory, she caught herself at the last moment. Lily hauled herself up, huddling against an awning as her world came crashing down.
Not Julian. He couldn’t have done this. Ripped the Nephilim to bloody shreds, and for what? You shared your suspicions with him. He had offered to take care of him. What did you expect him to do? No! She had given him…everything. And her heart—oh God, she had fallen in love with him. Now she realized this? Now?
It couldn’t be true, but it was. Luke had seen it, and he would never lie to her, no matter how badly he hated Julian.
Lily pressed her fist to her mouth, smothering a scream.
She had defended him, intervened when Micah would have seriously injured if not killed him, and she…loved him. She saw Julian dangling Micah over the rooftop. Remembered his beautiful face twisting into a near hideous snarl as Micah tried to slip his dagger into his chest. What had she done? She had grabbed the dagger and tossed it aside.
She opened her eyes, staring at the dark sky as rain poured down her face.
Why aren’t you like them?
Who says I’m not?
His snarling face was replaced by the one who touched her so tenderly. Held her in his arms, made love to her, and coaxed her slowly into his world…into loving him.
She launched herself off the awning, landing on the next building. Lightning crashed overhead, and thunder echoed off the steel around her. The storm was nothing compared to what she felt inside.
Within minutes she landed on the balcony of her apartment. She had left in such a rush, she hadn’t grabbed her keys or anything. Thunder boomed overhead as Lily threw the small white chair through the reinforced glass door. It shattered into a dozen large shards. She unlocked the door, paying no attention to the piece of sharp glass that caught her hand and sliced it open. She didn’t even flinch. In fact, she welcomed the hot sliver of pain that cut through the haze of a different kind of raw hurting.
Lily stepped into her apartment; the soaked shirt clung to her skin, and her hair curled around her face. Each step she took left little puddles of water and blood behind. She left the balcony doors wide open.
In no time, the familiar awareness shifted through her. With her back to the door, she closed her eyes against the onslaught of sorrow and rage.
“Lily?”
Her shoulders stiffened at the deep sound of his voice.
“What’s happened? I could…sense something is wrong. You’re hurt.”
She inhaled a ragged breath. With her heart imploding into useless mush, she faced him. His shirt clung to his stomach, following the supple ripple of flesh and hard muscle of his chest. Rain dripped from his thick eyelashes, and his eyes burned brightly.
Could something so beautiful be such a monster?
She saw Micah’s battered body. Saw the way Luke looked at her. She remembered Nathaniel’s warnings. He is a Fallen. Never forget that.