"I can't," had been my mantra during my time in the woodland paradise.
"This is the only way you're going to beat them, the only power capable of defeating them. Why are you hesitating?" Rosalind asked.
"Because I'm scared! It's a wall of fire. How do you expect me to react when you ask me to walk through it?"
The fire in question blazed in the center of the courtyard. Leaves and blossoms littered the ground, and yet, as they fell, they didn't get burned up. Red, orange, blue, yellow, and green flames danced, beckoning me. Fire was supposed to be menacing, and yet, there was no hostility.
"You died. There's nothing to fear anymore."
Rosalind's words were unnecessary. The fire spoke, compelling me to journey through the source of my fear. I pressed my face close to the flames. They licked at my nose, blew my hair back. I stepped forward and was enveloped with iridescent walls of color, like being inside a diamond. The colors were so vivid that I never wanted to step outside of their light. Arm extended, I fanned my hand out from side to side. Flames slipped through my fingers, supple as water. I hadn't been in the fire long when I felt a change within my heart. All of the emptiness inside of the dark chambers spilled over with warmth. An acceptance I had never expected washed over me in waves, and I couldn't help gasping in exhilaration.
Recalling the experience incited the feelings to well up once more.
Warmth radiated forth, manifesting itself physically. My skin heated up, rising to dangerous temperatures. Samael's hands dropped from my shoulders, and Lillith and Constanople jumped back as if they'd already been burned.
My eyes reflected the fire within, the first outward sign that my fire lore was active. I picked up the blade with my unbroken arm and flames swelled from my fingertips, running up the hilt of the sword.
"They gave you the ancient power?" Lillith was aghast.
"That and much more."
At that moment, I relinquished control and let the fire run rampant, my body fully immersed in flame. Time stopped, and I watched everything in slow suspension:
Foolishly, the demons scrambled to flee. Out of all the power they possessed, they couldn't vanish on command. Even their enhanced speed wasn't quick enough to save them.
In a flash, the fire expanded to fill the room and spill out over the entire complex. All three demons were eradicated within seconds. When the flames retracted with a roar, all that was left of them floated in the air around me—ash and nothing more.
I had accomplished a task I had dubbed impossible. Although it had been done twice in the past, I doubted my sufficient chutzpah to carry out the death sentence of two supposed gods. I had come close to failure, falling under Samael's thrall. My broken arm was a sore reminder of how I had barely come out of my endeavor victorious. I did not know what I would be able to do about my arm, because going to a hospital was not an option. I could not risk questions about my identity since I inhabited the body of a woman long deceased.
As I surveyed the scene of my triumph, I was struck by how utterly exhausted I was. I was a preternaturally strong psychic with the power to burst into flames at will, but still just human. Mostly. Plus, my injured arm had begun to throb insistently. I needed to rest for a moment. Before my eyes closed, I had the wayward consideration that when I woke up this time, every horrible thing that had transpired would have turned out to be a dream. Surrounding my bedside would be the people I loved, like my mother, Rosalind, Juliet, and Rafe.
Innocent, wide-eyed, and most certainly relieved, I would say, "I had the most awful nightmare. And you were there, and you, and you, and you!"
"You can rest later." At the sound of Rosalind's voice, my eyes flew open. She floated before me, her sparkling visage and attire out of place with the charbroiled house. "Right now, you need to move on 'cause the police are on the way. Your light display was incredibly noticeable."
"Move on?" I gazed about the room and back at her as if she'd spoken Japanese. "You mean with you, right?"
"Not yet. Not for a long time."
My throat closed up, and my eyes prickled. I didn't believe what I was hearing. "But...I'm done. Mission accomplished."
"In a perfect world, yes. But you're not done, Imogen. Not nearly."
My exhaustion had passed, and I'd entered a state of heightened awareness. "What else is there?"
"Everything," Rosalind said gently. "You have a rare opportunity to live a second life full of purpose."
I had been tricked. My sister had led me to believe, in not so many words, that I was to borrow her body for a short period of time. In that time period, I was to slay two, possibly three demons. Never in our heavenly conversations had Rosalind mentioned my prolonged stay on Earth, stuck in a new body, burdened with new powers and responsibilities.
"Look, I was under the impression my resurrection came with an expiration date, a very near expiration date. I don't want to go on living. I died, and I was finished. I came back to do a job, that's it."
After laying it all out, I thought Rosalind would understand.
She didn't. "You will find your way, and find a reason to go on. Right now, you really need to go."
She was right. Sirens howled in the distance. Another few minutes in the charbroiled bedroom and I would be in handcuffs, a straight jacket, or both.
"I'm in no condition to go anywhere." Carefully, I swung my arm around for Rosalind to see. I had not really inspected the wound myself, but as Rosalind took a second to look at it, I did the same. The bone protruded out from the skin.
"That's easy." Rosalind's cupped my broken arm.
A golden light filtered from her hands and transferred to my wound. The bone tucked itself back underneath my skin with a loud crack, sucking in what little blood with it. Inside, I felt the bones fuse back together, utilizing the healing power of Rosalind's touch.
I bent my arm at the elbow, testing it out. It felt new.
"Thanks," I said.
"I only removed your excuse. Now go."
"No, I'm staying here. The police can have me." Like a child, I sat down cross-legged with a pout.
That was when Rosalind figuratively kicked me while I was down. "What about Rafe, you know, the man you married?"
Rafe.
The reminder hit me like a bath of ice water, dousing me in shock. How was it that I had only now thought about Rafe, my husband? There had been a wall around him, which was suddenly bulldozed when Rosalind said his name.
"What did you do?"
Rosalind didn't reply.
I repeated the question. "What did you do?"
The old Rosalind would have crossed her arms. The post-death Rosalind just looked at me with pity. "What was necessary to keep you on the path."
"The headaches. That was you."
Mind manipulation was an advanced power Rosalind had mastered when she was alive, although she had regarded it as immoral, using it sparingly, like when she came across a pedophile, rapist, or murderer.
Her use of mind control offended me. Apparently, I was her puppet.
The fire inside colored my eyes. "You invaded my mind. Controlled my thoughts. Blocked the memory of Rafe from my mind. What part of that was okay?"
"None of it. I'm not going to apologize for any of it, though. Lillith and Samael took precedence over Rafe." She sounded indifferent, not at all like my sister.
"You don't get to decide which life is more valuable."
"When it concerns the safety of the entire human race, I do." Rosalind's surety scared me. Not only that, it angered me.
I sighed, but steam followed, along with small flames. I clapped my hand over my mouth.
"Talk about dragon breath," Rosalind remarked.
I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from grinning. "I cannot believe you."
"Does this mean you're going to do as I say and leave?"
"I'm not sure...What can I do to help him anyway? He's possessed."
Rosalind tilted her head. "With all your new powers and a bit of your old ones, I'm sure you can figure something out. But not from a padded cell."
Shit, she was right again. I couldn't condemn my husband to living a life taken over by a demon spirit. The question remained, was he still my husband? Better yet, was I still his wife? I was Rosalind, and yet I was me. However, I didn't have the time to debate the details. I had to save Rafe, even if we could never be together in the way that we'd imagined.
An impatient groan made escaped me. "All right, dammit, but you're not forgiven quite yet. How do I get outta here?"
"That's easy. Just jump." She nodded at the window.
"Déjà vu much?" was my retort as I gingerly peered out of the second-story window. "Rafe's not around to catch me this time."
"Trust me," Rosalind said, her spirit floating outside the window, "You can handle it."
****
A/N: Sisterly-love! Rosalind is a big help, and Imogen is lucky to have her.
If you're likin' things so far, press the little star, por favor!
After that, check out the story from Eleanor_Hook. David's grace is a paranormal story about a bored schmuck trying to make a deal with the Devil, but when's he's rejected, he does all he can to prove he's more than average.