Lightbringer by Frankie Robertson Page A

more like a grimace. “Good thing I softened him up for you.”
    A muscle in Jared’s jaw jumped. “I didn’t want to make you look bad,” he said in a light voice that sounded forced. He rubbed his throat.
    Cassie stepped closer and saw the blood pooling around Gideon. “Oh my God! I’ll call 911!” Where was the damn phone?
    “Don’t.” Gideon said in a hollow voice. “There’s no time.”
    Cassie looked around frantically for her purse, but the room was in shambles from the battle. It could be anywhere.
    “Gideon—” Jared started, but his friend cut him off with a raised hand. Blood stained his fingers.
    “Help me,” Gideon pleaded.
    Jared’s face twisted. “You think they’d listen? To me ?” His panicked eyes found Cassie. He hadn’t looked that afraid when Dave’s arm was crushing his throat. “Call the ambulance!”
    Cassie started toward the phone in Linda’s bedroom.
    “No. There’s no time,” Gideon said again.
    Something in his voice stopped her, and she turned back to him.
    Gideon coughed and blood flecked his lips. His face was gray. He focused on Jared. “I can’t do this alone. Help me.”
    “What?” Cassie demanded, her heart pounding. “What does he want you to do?”
    “Go in the bedroom, Cassie. Shut the door and call an ambulance,” Jared said.
    “No.” Gideon said again. “You’ll need her help, Jared. Don’t let me die. Send me back.” He lifted a bloodstained hand and beckoned Cassie closer.
    She ought to do what Jared said. She ought to call the paramedics. But something in Gideon’s gaze, in his outstretched hand, made her kneel beside him, one knee coming down in something warm and wet. Blood. A pool of it, flowing from several bullet wounds. Her stomach lurched, and her racing pulse took another jump. She should get up now and call 911, no matter what Gideon said, but his eyes commanded her to stay. Cassie took his hand and his emotions flooded into her.
    Pain. Urgency. A distant whisper of fear, overlaid by a confident trust.
    “You need medical attention,” she said to Gideon. “Let me help you!” She turned toward the bedroom. “Linda! Call—”
    “No.” Gideon wrenched her attention back to him with that single word. “ You can help me. You can . Jared, show her.”
    With an anguished groan, Jared took Cassie’s other hand.
    Jared’s fear for Gideon washed over her, along with his self-doubt. Cassie returned his clasp firmly, wishing she could give him some comfort. Then he lifted his eyes heavenward and began to sing. It was so totally not what she expected him to do she just stared. The music pulled her in. She couldn’t understand his words, but somehow she knew what Jared sang was a song of supplication. Raspy from the damage to his throat, his baritone was still beautiful.
    It was beyond strange that Jared chose to sing instead of calling for an ambulance. And even stranger that she was going along with it. But strange or not, Gideon’s face relaxed as his lips uttered soft words, and deep in her soul Cassie knew this was the right thing to do.
    Instead of visions, Cassie’s mind was filled with a sense of wholeness, a feeling of belonging and home, of being carried on a wave of near perfect harmony, though no one else was singing. She felt as though she could almost touch the music, but it was just out of reach. Tears of longing for something she couldn’t quite grasp flooded her eyes, and she realized Jared was weeping too.
    When Jared’s melody began to repeat, Gideon squeezed her hand. “Help him,” he commanded softly. “Sing me home.”
    She didn’t know the words, but she lifted her voice and sang, putting her desire to help Gideon, her hunger for the beauty promised by the music into the descant she wrapped around Jared’s song.

    Jared put all his own longing for home, all his fear for Gideon’s fate, into his supplication. Lucifer might lend his support so Gideon’s knowledge could be shared. Gideon was one of