Blood of the Devil

Chapter 33 - The Dead Leading the Dying

//Please be aware that this chapter may contain self harm triggers. Please take care of yourselves and if anything disturbs you in this chapter talk to someone. Letha is a complex character and everything in this happens for a reason.//

As it happened, they were now only 30 minutes from town. It was the longest 30 minutes of Letha's life. She sat in the back seat, Mickey beside her but not touching her, and stared at the headrest in front of her for the whole trip. She didn't dare look away, instead studying the woven pattern with determination. Every thread she counted was an extra second for Hadrian to live. She hoped.

Min had returned Mickey's phone to him, and he spent most of the journey trying to get a hold of Azrael. He called his phone several times, but they all cut straight through to messagebank. He tried Gabe and Zach, even Cass, but all to no avail. Right as they were pulling into town, his mobile let out a shrill jingle and he snatched it up.

"Hello?! Mickey?" He hadn't even looked at the caller ID and Azrael's voice was music to his ears.

"Az, we don't have time to talk. Letha and I aren't in danger, but Hadrian is. You need to meet us at the high school as soon as angelically possible and help us find him."

His urgency sparked something in Letha who turned to glare at him. "Not the bloody high school, Sherlock," she spat, "Our house. Not even Wrath kills somebody in a public place." She leaned forward between the seats, pointing across Min to give Brad directions. "Turn left here."

Mickey was relieved to see her acting normally. "Did you hear that?" he asked into the phone, making sure Az remembered where Letha lived before hanging up.

The car rolled to a stop outside Letha's house and before Brad had a chance to think about cutting the engine, Letha was off and running. Mickey leapt out of the car, chasing after her with as much intent to protect her as to save Hadrian. Fumbling with the front door, Letha threw it wide and was confronted with the most intimidating silence of her life. No cries of pain, no pleas for leniency, no desperate apologies. Total, utter, silence. She felt nauseated.

She took a few staggered steps forward, Mickey shadowing her tightly, and stumbled into the kitchen. The empty kitchen. Heart beating frantically in her chest, Letha spun in a tight circle, looking in the dining room, the lounge room, everywhere. Nothing. Without a sound she dashed for the stairs, staggering desperately up the first few. She caught her balance halfway up, propelling herself with the railing, and crashing into her brother's door. Throwing it open, her hand flew to her mouth.

Mickey clattered up behind her and stopped still as he looked past her. Hadrian's prone form was laid out on the bed, his skin a sad contrast against his flaming hair. Closing his eyes tight, the boy at the door prayed he was mistaken, that the bruises forming around the teenagers neck weren't there and that his chest still twitched with every breath.

What he didn't see, what Letha's attention was fixed on, was the carbon copy of her brother standing beside the bed. When she had arrived, he's been looking down at his real form mournfully but now he just stared emptily at her.

"Letha," he said on an exhale, his jaw clenching tightly. He faded alarmingly, coming back into focus just as suddenly. "I can't hold on much longer. I just wanted... goodbye."

The tears Letha's body had been contemplating evaporated, and she let out a low growl. "Don't you dare do this to me, Hadrian."

Mickey's heart broke a little bit and he caught her by the shoulder. "Letha, I'm so sorry but ... he's gone."

She threw him a fierce look over her shoulder. "You don't..." She hissed, "just let go of me!"

Shaking him off, she took a deliberate step towards the ethereal version of her brother and pointed an angry finger at him. "You will not leave me!"