Vita

Chapter Twenty-Six

I roll out of my jeep, using it for support as I make my way around. Isaiah's house shifts in my vision and I close my eyes again and take deep breaths. Isaiah must've noticed that I was outside of his house because when I reopened my eyes he was standing on his front porch, making his way down to me.

"Isaiah," I whisper, my voice sore.

His face looks a mix between shocked and am sadness. He picks me up off me feet and I rest my head against him and close my eyes. All my energy is drained. My breathing steadies and I begin to feel better already.

He lays me in his bed. I open my eyes to look at him, his eyes are closed and his hands are trembling.

"Isaiah," I murmur in a hoarse voice.

"You could've died," he whispers, "you were going to die. I could've lost you."

"I'm alive," I try to smile, but it's hard. How can I smile when there's so many problems?

"You're going to heal on your own," he whispers, "but I can help speed up the progress if you want by cleaning and bandaging the wound."

"Please," I mumble.

He helps me take off my white, now bloody red, dress. I lay trembling in his bed as he takes a wet rag and presses it to my wound. I clench my fists as pain radiates through me, but soon it starts to disappear and is replaced with relief. I take deep breaths and close my eyes, falling asleep.

"Eleanor's alive," the voice of Aunt Gracelyn booms in my head.

"That's impossible," John murmurs, "the rare stone. You punctured her through her stomach. We checked her pulse! She was dead!"

"Well she's not anymore!" Gracelyn yells, "And now we have a seraph angel who can't die and who is against us!"

"I'll do whatever I have to, Gracelyn, to make sure Eleanor Halewood dies," Uncle John promises her.

"Maybe," Gracelyn thinks aloud, "maybe if we can't kill her, maybe we can torture her."

"What do you mean?" Uncle John asks.

"We know Eleanor has a weak mind when it comes to things like this."

"Please elaborate?" Uncle John sighs.

"You'll see, John, you'll see..."

I awake from the dream gasping. Isaiah's there next to me and immediately wraps his arms around me to protect me. I steady my breathing and find myself in a t-shirt and sweatpants. I lift up the shirt and see the bandages.

"They aren't bleeding through," Isaiah whispers, "it's a good sign."

"Yeah," I think to myself about the dream, "they know I'm not dead. And they're trying to figure out how to kill me."

"Who's they?" I forgot he didn't find out who The Black Angel was.

"The Black Angel- my Aunt Gracelyn. And her second-hand is my Uncle John," I squeeze my eyes shut. Now that the fact has settled, it hurts.