my ego get away from me. But I’m not a god, I’m a man. Just like you. You are a man, Utanapishtim, and now you are also a murderer of innocents. What you plan to do is genocide, and you must stop it now.”
“The gods demand—”
“I don’t give a damn what the gods demand!”
“Then die!” Utanapishtim’s eyes narrowed on James and began to glow. And in that instant Lucy launched herself as if from a rocket, diving into the path of that beam, only one thought, only one emotion, driving her: that she could not stand by and watch the man she loved blasted to bits.
The last thing she heard before the hum that tried to blow her head open was James screaming her name.
23
James had mentally braced himself for the blow when Utanapishtim’s eyes had begun to shine. And then, like a slow-motion nightmare, he’d seen Lucy lunging into the path of that killer beam.
She shouted, “Utanapishtim, no!” as she leaped in front of the man.
And even as James screamed her name and lunged for her, she took the blow meant for him. The beam of light hit her, and her body went stiff and began to vibrate. James raced toward her, noting that Utanapishtim’s expression had turned to one of horror and the beam from his eyes had flickered.
And then another beam shot from behind James, blasting past him and hitting Utanapishtim square in the chest, sending the great man flying backward to slam into a wall and crumple to the floor. James shot a stunned look behind him, only to see Brigit striding into the room like some kind of warrior woman—one who was royally pissed.
Utanapishtim lay on the floor, beaten, stunned, looking shell-shocked and as if he might have finally suffered a complete break with reality. He was muttering, “I intend not her. Not Loo-see. Not Loo-see.” And then he lapsed into Sumerian—or something James presumed was Sumerian.
He didn’t care. He refocused on Lucy, kneeling beside her where she’d fallen. Gathering her into his arms, he lifted her upper body from the floor, pushed up her scorched tank top. Her belly was badly burned, a large black spot smoldering, smoking, raw flesh visible beneath the charred skin.
She opened her eyes, looking up at him, and he could see the pain in her eyes. “You can heal it. I know you can.”
Meeting her eyes, he felt tears brimming in his own, because he was so afraid he couldn’t. He pressed his palms to her belly, waiting for the white light to come. And when it didn’t, he blinked rapidly.
Brigit put her hand on his shoulder. “Do it, J.W. What are you waiting for?”
“I’m trying.”
“Well fucking try harder, bud. She’s circling the drain.”
He tried, he focused, he searched inside himself for the pool of energy he’d always been able to tap into, to reroute, to press outward into those who needed it. And for the second time in his memory, he felt only emptiness inside him. There was nothing there.
“It’s…gone. He took it from me, back on the yacht. I was afraid of that when I tried to heal you in that church and couldn’t…. I just didn’t want to believe…”
Brigit met his eyes, her own wide with disbelief as she processed that. She pressed her lips together, gave a firm nod. “You’re gonna have to do it the other way, big bro.”
“What other way?” Then realization entered his eyes. “Oh, no. Hell, no. I don’t even know if I can. Or if she’d want it.” Then he shot a look Utanapishtim’s way and realized the other man was gone. “He took my power. He can use it. Utanapishtim! Where are you?”
“Shit, he’s gone. I’m going after him,” Brigit said. “Meanwhile, you’d better ask her while she’s still able to answer you. It’s time to fang up or shut up, J.W.”
“Wait, Brigit! I’ve never—”
But she was gone. And James was left holding the woman he loved—yes, loved. He knew that now. And she was dying. Right in his arms, she was dying.
“I’m sorry, James,” Lucy whispered. “I just couldn’t bring myself to give up that stupid book of Folsom’s. Books have always been everything to me. But I know now there’s something far more important.”
“Love,” he said. “Love is more important.”
She smiled softly, closing her eyes. “I’m so sorry. I ruined everything.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“I did. And now I’m dying, and you’ve lost your power, and…it could have been so good. If I’d lived…if you wanted me…we could have