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he said, “I owe ya an apology. Y’ not at all what I had ya figgered for.”
    â€œDemon, right?” I told him my theory, what Merryn had said about him training to be an exorcist. About the murder charge and going to prison.
    â€œIt’s a long story, Augustine. An’ I’d be happy to share it with ya. But”—he pointed to a bright sign that spelled out Emergency Room—“first things first.”
    ****
    They loaded Merryn onto a gurney and rushed her into emergency surgery to stop the internal bleeding.
    Hours later, they did.
    Now it was up to me.
    To bring her out of her coma.
    I sat beside her for a thousand years, ran my fingers over every inch of the highways of tubing going in and out of her. Kissed her cheek a million times. Held her hand until it dissolved into mine. There were tears enough to lift an ark. It was the same hospital where my mother had died.
    I vowed to stay with Merryn until she woke. If she never did, I’d curl up beside her and die too. After twenty years, the nurses brought me a pillow and a blanket. After a century, they brought me food and a more comfortable chair. After a millennium, they brought only silence. Smiles without words as they bathed her, checked her vitals, tested her reflexes, and shined a penlight onto her pupils.
    Somewhere in between the hazy comings and goings of nurses, doctors, and Merryn’s friends and relatives, I had a vision. May have been a hallucination, or a dream, or simply a happy fantasy brought on by sleepless nights and buried hopes. Whatever it was, I saw a man. Tall and handsome with glossy black hair that fell to his shoulders. His white, sleeveless tunic hung to his knees, and a thick gold wrist guard covered most of his left forearm. His skin was a toasted nut-brown. His friendly eyes were a striking color, closer to lavender than any other, and he held himself with a confidence and peace that could only be described as angelic.
    â€œListen!” he said. A playful smile skipped over his face. He saw that I recognized his voice from The Committee. Still smiling, but with a more comforting one now, he said, “Put away your fears, Og. At the end of our conversation, your Merryn will wake.”
    It was so real, his voice so clear. Every muscle, crease, and movement of his body and face so distinct. I asked, “How could you know something like that?”
    â€œI just do.” He gazed at me, grinning. Probably entertained by my height or the size of my feet. Yet, there was more to it.
    â€œWho…are you?”
    â€œThe mention of my name would raise an alarm within The Symphony, what you, Augustine, call The Committee.” He smiled again, amused by my terminology. “Perhaps I will risk telling you at our next meeting.”
    â€œBut you’re not real.”
    He strode forward, placed his huge hands on my shoulders, and embraced me. I was shocked. At two things. One, that he was so bold in his affection, and two, at just how natural it was to hug him back. It didn’t hurt that the man with the lavender eyes was the first person in years I’d hugged who was taller than me. I’d say around seven-five.
    Then he vanished. Couldn’t tell you if he walked out the door, sprouted wings and flew away, or if I just woke up. But I was still in dreamland when I heard someone else say, “Disgustine.”
    I chuckled to myself. Disgustine was one of Merryn’s nicknames for me. It—
    Disgustine! I opened my eyes and shot to my feet.
    Merryn blinked at me.
    She ran her tongue slowly over her dry lips and said, “Wh-here am I?”
    I couldn’t answer. My lungs and heart and guts were tangled in my throat. Without a word, I hugged her.
    My Merryn had come back to me.

Chapter Thirteen
    Turns out the thousand years I’d spent at Merryn’s bedside had only been eighteen days. I didn’t tell her I stayed the whole time. Said I just happened to be there