Night In A Waste Land (Hell Theory #2) - Lauren Gilley Page 0,81
fact, he was a goddamn criminal, if I’m reading this report right.”
“Never officially charged, only suspected,” Rose said, and earned an eye twitch and another warning glance. No verbal reprimand, though. “And Beck is the right choice because I know him. Very well. It takes a strong, personal connection to bring someone back like this. A great force of will.”
Bedlam snorted. “I can’t argue with your will, at least. But what’s to ensure he isn’t another conduit, same as all the rest?”
This was the part she was still uncertain of; an uncertainty she wouldn’t betray, not to anyone, not if it meant the chance to try. She said, “He wasn’t dead when he went down, ma’am. He didn’t die.”
Her face went momentarily blank. “He’s alive down there? That’s possible?”
She didn’t know. Perhaps being sucked through the portal would kill him; perhaps Derfel – if he could even be compelled to stir at all – would bring back a ghost, one in need of a vessel. But, again, she poured on the bravado and said, “Yes. And, let me say: I know he isn’t military, but Beck is a better, smarter fighter, and better-versed in killing conduits than anyone I’ve met in my time here.”
She heard Lance take a sharp breath in through his nose beside her, and pointedly didn’t look at him.
“Better than anyone,” Bedlam echoed, expression verging toward offended. “Well. I guess we’ll see about that, won’t we?”
Rose went on to explain some of Beck’s research, what she could remember: explained his hell theory.
“It isn’t the craziest thing I’ve ever heard.”
In the end, permission was granted, pending approval from the higher-ups. Rose left Bedlam’s office with something like a bounce in her step, and a lightness in her chest she hadn’t felt in years. She had a plan. Beck was coming back – no matter what it took.
Lance caught up with her around the next bend in the hall. He snagged her jacket sleeve and pulled her around to face him. “You’re bluffing,” he said, like an accusation.
Only a little. She said, “I told you the night Beck went under that I was going to get him back.”
He made a frustrated sound. “You were in shock. That was the grief talking. But after all this time, you can’t be serious right now.”
A small voice in the back of her mind informed her she should feel sympathetic here. She was talking about resurrecting her former lover, right in front of her current one. But most of her brain space was devoted to BECK, BECK, BECK, and she couldn’t find that softness she needed for this moment.
“You said yourself you had no idea how we were going to win this war. We needed something different, something we haven’t tried before.”
“Yeah, I meant a special kind of grenade, or a conduit-proof tank or something.” His eyes were wild. “Not your old boyfriend back from the dead!”
She took a breath. “He’s not dead.” She couldn’t bring herself to address old boyfriend without saying something terrible.
“You don’t know that! And even if he isn’t, he’s just one man!”
“You’re shouting.”
“And you’re being insane! I thought you’d gotten past this, Rose.” He wiped a hand down his face, and shook his head. “Jesus…this isn’t possible.”
“You fight angel-possessed people for a living, and you want to lecture me on what’s possible?”
His lips pressed into a tight line. “This is a stupid idea.”
“Duly noted,” she said, tonelessly, turned and walked off.
At the end of the hall, before she turned the corner, she heard him whisper, “Shit.”
She didn’t sulk. She went back to the research room, took out a whole box of files, and went to talk to Morgan.
Morgan took one look at the printed out, grainy, black and white illustration of Saint Derfel astride his stag, and her head snapped up, the movement quicker and more human than any Rose had ever seen from her. “Who are you trying to fetch back to the mortal plane?” Her voice even sounded human: strained and urgent.
Rose didn’t like the thought that even an immortal being thought she was being stupid. “You know Derfel, then.”
“I know that he was a knight of the Round Table.”
“If it existed.”
“It did,” Morgan said, seriously. “And I know that Derfel can achieve what you’re asking of him – if the offering, and your concentration, are great enough.”
Rose tried not to sigh. “If you knew he was a viable option, why didn’t you tell me before?”
Morgan didn’t evidence any contrition. She met Rose’s glare unblinking, eyes