Lucian Divine

As he was pulling away, he stopped the car, rolled down the window, and said, “Check your messenger bag. I made you lunch so you don’t have to leave. Please don’t leave here without me. Text me if anything comes up.”

“Don’t worry about me. Good luck.” I kissed him once more through the open window.

I spent the morning doing sketches for Tracey, and by lunch, I was starving and feeling woozy. I hadn’t texted Lucian because I didn’t want to distract him, but I was feeling mildly crampy. By two o’clock, the cramps were getting worse. I called Dr. Smythe.

“You should come in, Evelyn, so we can do an ultrasound and check you out. If it gets worse, go to the ER.”

As soon as I pressed End on the phone, I texted Lucian.



Me: I’m feeling crampy. Gonna ask Tracey to drive me to the doctor’s.

Lucian: No, I’ll be there in two minutes.



Tracey was in the back room as I stood at the front window waiting. I felt a gush of fluid between my legs and a sharp, shooting pain. I dropped to my knees on the hard concrete. Blood seeped through my jeans. I heard a thud as Lucian landed hard just outside of the door. He had flown there.

“What was that?” Tracey said as she came walking out from the back room.

Lucian completely ignored her. He was laser-focused on me. He stalked over to me and lifted me with ease. His wings were spread and flapping.

“No,” he whimpered. “No.”

“How are we going to get there?” I asked.

“Oh my God,” Tracey said, falling to the floor when she saw Lucian.

Lucian finally realized she was standing there, witnessing the entire thing. He set me down gently. “One second.” He marched with resolute concentration toward a terrified Tracey.

“No,” she said, holding up her hand in an attempt to block Lucian from whatever he was about to do.

He pressed a thumb to her forehead. Her eyes rolled back in her head. “Stop, Lucian, you’re hurting her.” He didn’t even seem to hear me. Tracey was writhing on the floor. The smell of burning skin wafted toward me, as Lucian pressed his thumb to her forehead even harder.

“Stop, Lucian,” I screamed.

He pulled away, turned to the empty space next to him, and spoke to someone I couldn’t see. “I had to. I’m sorry. She’ll be fine.”

Tracey was still unconscious.

“What’s going on?” I started to cry.

Lucian was at my side in a millisecond, and I was in his arms again. “She’ll be okay. I couldn’t let her say anything. We have to go.”

A moment later, we were in the air, flying fast. We landed hard on the roof of San Francisco General Hospital. Lucian was undeterred and mysterious again. My angel, trying to protect me. I couldn’t see my husband in him anymore.

He didn’t speak as he carried me to the roof door and kicked it open with little effort. In the elevator, he scanned my body.

“It’s over,” I told him. “She’s gone.”

“No.” There was no expression in his eyes. He managed to carry me into triage without even checking in and yelled, “My wife needs help quickly.”

A nurse was at my side in a moment. There was blood all over my pants, but the pain had stopped. Lucian slumped into a chair in the corner, rested his elbows on his spread knees, and dropped his face into his hands. I couldn’t tell if he was crying, but he was obviously in pain.

“It’s okay, Lucian,” I whispered.

“You’ve lost a lot of blood,” the nurse said.

There was a blur of doctors and nurses. I heard the words miscarriage, hemorrhaging, and hematoma. My clothes were removed. I was cleaned and then moved to another room. I was woozy, but Lucian was next to me, still inscrutable.

“What’s happening?” When I tried to sit up, I lost consciousness.

Moments later, I came to and heard Lucian yelling something, but I couldn’t make out what he was saying. I closed my eyes and wanted to disappear. I had lost the baby.

Then I was in an operating room, and a doctor I didn’t know was telling me that he was going to perform a procedure to remove the fetus, placenta, and hematoma. Lucian was holding my hand. They sedated me.

I didn’t remember anything after that until I woke up in a recovery room. When I opened my eyes, I saw Lucian sitting in a chair in the corner. All of the lights were off, and the curtains were drawn. I couldn’t see his face well enough to read his expression. “I’ve gone too far,” he said in a low voice. “I can’t fix this. I can’t erase your memory. I can’t erase the memories of everyone I’ve met because of you. I only have one choice now, Evey.”

“Don’t you dare.” I knew what he meant. “You do not get to leave me, Lucian.”

“I can’t see you like this, knowing that I did this to you.”

“You did not do this to me. I had a miscarriage. Women have them all the time.”

“You don’t care? You don’t care that we lost our little girl?”

I started to cry. “Was it a girl?”

He nodded in the darkness. I cried full, quiet sobs, but Lucian didn’t come to comfort me. Instead, he left the room. I rolled onto my side and cried even harder.

“Please come back to me,” I said, but he didn’t. “Don’t do this to me.”

I knew he could hear me. He couldn’t have gotten far.

The doctor came in and said he wanted to keep me overnight. I said, “Okay,” and then dozed off alone. I woke sometime after midnight. It was completely dark, but I could see that Lucian was back, in the same chair again. I smelled whiskey. I closed my eyes and feigned sleep, but a moment later, he was standing over me; I could feel him.

“Why? Why, God?” He was in pain. Tormented Lucian would not be easy to talk to. My eyes were closed when I felt his lips on my forehead. “Good-bye, Evey. I love you.”

Without opening my eyes, I said, “Whatever you’re thinking about doing, forget it. It’s not happening.” I looked up at him.

His face was swollen and red with tears. “I can’t put you through any more hell than I already have.”

“I had a miscarriage. It had nothing to do with you.” I started to cry. “What are you going to do? Kill yourself? You’re going to leave me after we’ve been married and I’m lying in a hospital bed because I’ve had a miscarriage? How could you do that to me?”

He shook his head and smiled, small and tight. “You won’t remember anything,” he said softly. He looked pleased with himself.

“I want to remember everything.”

“Not this.”

“Lucian, please.”

The nurse came in and pushed more pain medication through my IV.

“Please, Lucian, don’t do anything stupid.” As I started to doze off from the pain medicine, I chanted the prayer out loud. The nurse was gone. It was just the two of us.

He held his hand to my forehead and said it with me. “Angel of God, my Guardian dear to whom His love commits me here, ever this night be at my side, to light and guard, to rule and guide. Amen.”

Everything was black after that.