Page 43 of Grave Revelations (Prophecies of Angels and Demons #3)

Chapter 42

Simon

Yesterday

Simon ran a hand over his face, nervous energy thrumming through him. He slid the laptop away, pressing a button beside him to elevate the bed. The epidural in his lower back numbed the area, giving his mind a chance to clear from the morphine he’d been on for the past several days.

When he’d asked for his laptop, it had been purely to catch up on work and put his life in some semblance of order, but when the notification popped up telling him someone had disabled the security around the estate, he brought up the feed, scrolling back until he found it.

Something obscured the camera, making the image distorted and blurry, but the audio came through clearly enough.

“Gabriel?”

It was Rebecca’s voice. He scrolled through feed after feed, following the ones where something distorted the image. It took the stairs and stopped in her room. There were muffled sounds, nothing he could make out with his pitiful human ears .

She moaned, saying Gabriel’s name a few more times, but the image never cleared. He fast-forwarded, scowling as everything blurred by. He stopped when the camera played in real time. The feed was live but still too distorted to see.

Simon laid his head on the pillows, staring at nothing as he listened for signs she was awake. Alive.

Something crackled over the audio, and he jerked, turning his head to stare at the fuzzy screen.

“What’s wrong?” It was Rebecca’s voice, but it sounded scratchy from disuse.

“Things have changed.” He knew that voice: Gabriel.

He reached for his phone, searching for Allie in the contact list, and pressed her name. It rang once, twice, three times. On the fourth ring, it went to voicemail.

Gabriel spoke again, turning Simon’s attention back to the computer. “You’re in grave danger. The sooner you unlock your seraph side, the safer you’ll be.”

Rebecca’s voice came though clearer this time, a flirting edge to her words. “I have you. What do I need my gifts for?

Simon’s grip tightened on his phone. He squinted at the fuzzy screen, cursing the faulty equipment.

“I’ll never leave. I told you that. But we…”

“Can’t? Can’t what?” her soft voice said, all traces of flirtation gone.

“I’ve accepted my place at Samael’s side and will now and forever be a ruler of Primoria.”

“Oh.”

Simon's teeth ground together.

Rebecca’s voice continued over the audio as he tapped an impatient finger on the laptop. “Wait. Don’t go.”

He dialed her number again. It rang. It rang again. “Pick up Rebecca.”

“You should take that. It might be important,” Gabriel said as the ringing continued in Simon’s ear.

“Az, wait. I don’t…”

The video crackled, and a distorted image of Rebecca appeared on the screen.

“What? ”

Simon turned the volume on his laptop down as her voice echoed in his ear and on the audio feed.

“Rebecca. Are you okay? I thought you died.”

“Slow down. What are you talking about?” she asked. “You mean in Bermuda?” The screen was clear now. He watched her fidget, staring at nothing.

“Rebecca, what happened to you two nights ago?”

Rebecca’s eyes glazed. Her features twisted into an expression of pain, but she said nothing, continuing to stare at the wall.

“Were you in danger? Talk to me, Rebecca. Please.”

The video distorted, going dark. “She’s not well,” Gabriel interrupted. “She’ll call you later.”

“I need to talk to her. I know she almost died. I felt it.”

“I see.”

“Put Rebecca on the phone. Something happened. I’m worried for her safety.”

“There’s no need. She’s in my care.”

The call ended.

“Son of a bitch,” he said to the empty room. He turned the volume up, listening.

“What do you mean?” he heard Rebecca say.

“You need energy to heal,” Gabriel continued. “Take it. Take all of it.”

“No. I could kill you. I nearly killed Simon.”

“Simon was a human. I am immortal. Only one thing could end me.”

Jackass.

A nurse bustled into the room, and Simon turned the volume down. Valentina stepped in behind her, and he slammed the laptop closed.

“How are you feeling, baby?” Her too-sweet tone turned his stomach, but he pasted on a smile. The sooner he gave her what she wanted, the sooner she would leave. “I have good news.”

“What’s that?”

“The doctors are releasing you,” she said. “You can stay with me for a while, and I’ll take care of you. You won’t need to come back until the surgery.”

He grimaced at her bright smile. “I would prefer to go to my home. ”

Her grin faltered, but she recovered quickly. “No one is at your house. You would be alone.”

“I’m sure the hospital would be more than willing to set me up with a home healthcare worker to see to my needs.” The memory reminded him of Rhea. Where was she now? Had Rebecca saved her?

“I live closer to the hospital and a health care worker can’t be there twenty-four-seven. What if you wake up and need something in the middle of the night?”

Simon’s mouth puckered. The thought of being trapped under her roof was suffocating, but she wasn’t wrong. In his current condition, he was helpless. A few days with her wouldn’t kill him. “Alright, but I need to get some work done. Come back in a few hours?”

She nodded a little too enthusiastically, but he gave her another fake smile and waited for her to leave the room. When she had gone, he pulled the laptop lid up and found the video was still displaying the audio feed only.

“These aren’t my clothes,” Rebecca said, her voice light and teasing again.

“They suited you.”

“Did you steal them?”

“I’m a Prince of Hell. What do you think?”

“I think you don’t give yourself enough credit. You aren’t your title. You’re whoever you want to be. If you want to be the evil, cruel devil from Primoria, go ahead. Not that I’ve ever seen you lift a finger against someone who didn’t deserve it. But stop using it as an excuse.” Rebecca paused for a moment before she said, “And don’t use it as an excuse to distance yourself from me.”

The audio crackled, but there were no sounds apart from a faint shuffling. What the hell was going on? Evil, cruel devil? Distance himself from her? It had been a few days since Simon had seen her, but he felt like the girl on the other end of this feed was someone he didn’t know.

Gabriel groaned.

Simon jerked upright, his back spasming in pain. He fell back, a knife of agony slicing through his chest and shoulders as his back seized .

Gritting his teeth against the ache, he pressed a button beside his bed, releasing more pain meds into his epidural. The sensation dulled, and he felt only a throbbing heat along his mid back and torso.

When his vision cleared enough to see the screen, Rebecca was on camera. She was sitting up in bed, arms wrapped around her waist, tears rolling down her cheeks.

The physical pain was gone, and Simon’s chest rose and fell, but something in his heart had been torn free, the bloody beating organ severed from his body leaking all over the floor.

The medicine must have made him drowsy. When he opened his eyes, Valentina had returned and was ordering staff around. She barked commands as they moved efficiently.

Simon’s laptop was closed, resting just out of reach on a table in the corner with his phone beside it.

When everything in his room had been packed up, nurses came, rolling his bed and IV pole out of the room. Two people came behind, pushing a cart packed with all the items he’d accumulated while he recovered.

Valentina came last, carrying his phone and laptop. They stepped into an elevator, and a nurse pressed the first-floor button. As they rolled off the elevator, his back spasmed over a bump. He pressed the button at his side, sighing as the medicine rushed into him, heat flooding his veins for a moment before sweet numbness took over.

The world blurred—too much, he thought as his eyelids drooped.

When he next woke, he was in Valentina’s high-rise apartment, his bed facing out the window, the curtain drawn. Silvery moonlight filtered through the semi-sheer fabric, casting the room in a cold clinical light.

Simon scanned the space, seeing his phone and laptop across the room. A clock on the wall across from her expensive dining table read 4:15 a.m .

He sighed heavily, staring at the ceiling, thinking again of Rebecca’s words: “If you want to be the evil, cruel devil from Primoria, go ahead. Don’t use it as an excuse to distance yourself from me.”

It was Gabriel causing the distortion in the camera feed.

The picture ran through his mind again and again. Her tears weren’t for a mentor or a friend.

He pressed the button, releasing more medicine into his bloodstream, hoping it would dull this new ache settling in his chest. He squeezed his eyes shut, a single tear escaping his lashes.

When he woke again, the sun warmed his cheek, the curtain drawn aside.

“Well, good morning, sleepy head.”

Valentina’s cheerful tone was in sharp contrast to his mood.

“Morning.”

“Do you want tea? I can make your favorite.”

He glanced at the laptop and phone, still out of reach. “I should do some work. I have a lot to catch up on.”

“The partners understand. No one expects you to work in your condition.”

Simon held out a hand, feeling a burning, itching sensation in his back. It irritated his frayed nerves, and he huffed, curling his fingers into a fist.

“Calm down. I’ll get it,” Valentina said, laughing.

She slid the computer onto his lap, letting her manicured nails trail over the blankets. “How can you look at the screen when you can’t prop your head up? Want me to lift you?”

“No.”

Valentina pouted, her crimson lips turning down. After a pregnant silence, she left him, heels clacking over the concrete floor.

Simon slid the laptop open and pressed the volume down. The video was clear, but Rebecca wasn’t in her room. He clicked through live feeds until he found her sitting on her favorite blue couch, staring up at the portrait of her father. Alone.

“Could you hand me my phone?” he asked, tilting the laptop screen so it wasn’t visible as Valentina approached.

She slid a table beside him and set his phone and a cup of lavender tea on top .

“I can stay home today,” she said. “Take care of you.”

“No.” Simon bit the inside of his cheek, looking up. “I’ll be a nuisance all day, and the home healthcare worker will be here. I’m sure they need you in the office.”

She gave him a strained look, letting him know she hadn’t missed the bite in his tone. “Alright. If you’re sure.”

He nodded, trying for a more genuine smile.

Valentina arched one sculpted brow before she turned away from him again.

He picked up his phone and texted: Are you feeling better? Can we talk?

Valentina returned, and he clicked off his screen, watching her move to the door, pick up her purse and laptop bag, and slide on a thick coat. “I gave Miss Hazel the code, so she’ll let herself in when she gets here. It should be any minute.”

Simon nodded, palming his phone. It hadn’t buzzed yet. The itch to slide open his laptop and see what she was doing crawled down his arm, and his fingers twitched.

Valentina waved again, picked up her things, and twisted the bolt, unlocking her door. “Oh,” she turned around. “The TV remote by the couch. Let me get it.”

“No need. I have a lot of work today.”

She halted midway to the living room. “Okay. Have a good day.” She left, and the automatic lock buzzed behind her.

He lifted his phone. Nothing. Pulling open the laptop, he pressed the volume up. The screen was distorted again.

Rebecca’s laugh sounded through the audio in the foyer. “Eat with me?”

Simon drew in a ragged breath.

“I don’t eat.”

Didn’t she know how desperate she sounded? He held his breath, waiting for her next words. Abruptly, the audio shorted, followed by popping and crackling sounds before silence. The video feed darkened further. Something was wrong.

Simon pressed the incline button on his bed, waiting for it to rise. The screen was still black, no audio. He opened the Ring app, searching the dashboard for troubleshooting options and instructions .

He slammed his fist on the bed. A chat box popped up. He clicked it, going through the steps of verifying his identity, and typed out his issues.

The agent informed him they would ping the devices and notify him of any service issues.

He waited, drumming his fingers on the silent phone screen at his side. When the agent returned to let him know everything was functioning on their side, he clicked out of the chat window, huffing in frustration.

The lock buzzed at the door, and it opened. A middle-aged woman with a thick coat and blue scrubs stepped through the entry.

“Good morning, Mr. Carey. I’m Hazel. I’m here to assist you today.”

She slid her coat off, hanging it from the rack by the door, and moved into the room, coming to stand at the end of his bed. She pulled a chart from a clipboard and reviewed it.

“I’m just getting to know you a little better. I hope that’s okay with you,” she said, scanning his paperwork. “Looks like you’re stationary until after the surgery on Monday, so I’ll just get you anything you need until then and do my best to make you comfortable.”

Simon eyed her. “How are you with technical difficulties?”

She peered up from the paperwork, her cheeks rosy from the unseasonably cool weather. “Afraid that’s not my area,” she said, grinning at him.

“Maybe you could do me a favor and get me a pair of headphones?”

“Absolutely, Mr. Carey. Where might those be?”

He scanned the room. “There,” he said, pointing to a pair of headphones resting on a charger in the corner.

Hazel bustled over, asking, “Anything else right now?”

“No. Thank you.”

She left him, setting up her station at the dining table while he paired the headphones to his device. He slid them on, and Rebecca’s words blared to life in his ears.

“Have you had other lovers?”

“No. ”

Bile rose in Simon’s throat. He was going to be sick. Pressing the button beside him, he waited for the heat crawling up his back to numb some of the pain.

“What other questions do you have?” Gabriel asked her.

“Why don’t you have fire magic?”

“I gave it up.”

“Why?”

“In exchange for the lives of the men in your line.”

Hazel waved a hand in front of Simon’s face. He slid the headphones down.

“Yes?” He bit the words out.

“Did you want this tea, or should I put it away for you?”

“Please leave it.” He pushed the headphones up over his ears.

“Where are we going?” Rebecca asked.

“To the lance. We need to open the box.”

“Brother, you can’t.”

Zophiel’s voice surprised him. The three of them were together, plotting something.

As their voices grew distant, he scrolled through camera feeds, following those that distorted and went dark until they reached the top of the stairs outside Rebecca’s room. He followed the feed inside, but it was black.

“You haven’t answered my last question,” Rebecca said. “Why the men? Why did you trade your gift for the men in my line, and who did you trade it to?”

Gabriel had gone silent, and Simon couldn’t see a thing. Were they together? In her room? In her bed?

Hazel’s face dipped in front of him again. He gave her a long look, but she tapped her ear unapologetically.

“Yes?” He ground through his teeth.

“I’m sorry, hon. But I need to change your sheets. Looks like no one did it before you left the hospital. It’s been a full twenty-four-hours.”

“I’m working.”

“Afraid this can’t wait.”

He seethed, slamming the laptop closed .

Hazel moved the massage table they had set up for this very exercise beside him and positioned him on his side, sliding a thin, hard mat under him. She rolled him with surprising strength.

When he was settled on the table, she moved quickly, stripping his bed, wiping it down with a microbial sponge, and replacing the bedding.

“This looks like more than twenty-four hours,” she said. “When did someone last do your leg exercises and wipe you down?”

“I can’t really say. I’ve been in and out of consciousness for a week,” he said, and Hazel gave him a stern look; she wouldn’t tolerate his sass. “It will need to wait. I have an important meeting.”

“When gangrene sets in on the backs of your calves, you won’t find that meeting so important.”

Simon gave her a skeptical look, but she rested a hand on her ample hip, and he relented. “Please be quick.”

Forty-five minutes later, he was on his bed, legs stretched and wiped down, the IV in his back checked for infection, and all his vitals read and recorded. Finally, Hazel handed him his headphones and laptop.

When he lifted the laptop screen, Rebecca’s bedroom was empty, the screen clear again. He shuffled through the video feed, looking for distorted or dark video, but found nothing. After completing a second circuit of the house, he ran the video back to when the camera in her room had gone dark.

He stopped there, hitting play.

“You were telling me about your deal for Adalaide’s sons,” Rebecca said.

There was a long pause, and Simon fast-forwarded.

“So. Your deal?”

“Get your coat.” Gabriel again.

“You promised.”

“I will answer your questions on the way.”

He followed the distorted camera feed down the stairs, through the servant’s hallway, where it stopped. They must have gone down to Alexander’s lair. Simon had never wired cameras below the home, too concerned about what the installers might think of the basement. Now, he was kicking himself.

He turned the volume up as high as it would go, straining for any sound, but it was useless. His hearing was normal now, and the cameras couldn’t pick up their voices from that far away.

A sound down the hall caught his ear, and he scrolled through feeds until he found the camera at the front door. The knob rotated all the way around.

The door must not have been locked. It slid open on silent hinges, and three people stepped inside. They moved faster than they should have. But it was day. They weren’t night-beings. They were something else.

One darted up the stairs and rushed back to meet the others. He shook his head, saying nothing. The second darted into the living room, then back and did the same. Simon fumbled for his phone, pressing Allie’s name, and typed quickly.

There are three people in the house. They aren’t human. They’re looking for you.