Free A Kiss Beneath the Veil by Aimee Roseland

seeing
whether she caved under a little torture and tried to sneak a demon over. Of
course, demons might actually be welcome, what did she know?
    In answer to
her question something began pulling at her, like a wind blowing through her
soul, sucking her toward the presence. Daphne’s eyes snapped open and she saw
Emma bathed in light for the briefest moment before she disintegrated, passing
from the space between to whatever waited for them beyond.
    The sterile
white room with its slightly grungy guest seats and bright fluorescent lighting
still surrounded her. Mrs. Berkley, dressed in her modern June Cleaver
disguise, was the only other person in the room. Daphne had felt for the
briefest moment that she wasn’t in the hospital anymore, she’d been somewhere
else. Somewhere...different.
    The sense of
both the listening presence and that of Emma’s ghost had disappeared leaving
Daphne staring wide-eyed back at Mrs. Berkley, stunned at how easy it all had
been. It was like she had an open line to the other side and all she’d had to
do was pick it up.
    Mrs. Berkley
gasped and clutched her hands above her heart. “Did she- Is she- Was that her
leaving?” she finally stuttered out.
    Daphne
nodded uncertainly, not knowing what to think about any of it. A monster born
of nightmares was standing at her bedside, wringing her hands in worry over the
fate of her daughter’s soul, and Daphne had very-probably just felt a God’s
hand reach through her to pluck that soul away. How did one top that?
    Isaac
appeared at her bedside, hissing at the Garmorlgan and slashing the tubes still
stuck in Daphne’s arms before teleporting her away from the hospital room in a
cloud of smoke.
    A literal
cloud of smoke.
    As they
reappeared in the grand bedchamber he’d brought her to the other night, Isaac
set her gently on his bed and quickly stepped back to drop the smoldering robe
he was wearing on the marble floor. His skin was red and blistered from the sun
that had been shining into her hospital room.
    “Are you all
right?! Did she hurt you?” he questioned her through cracked and bleeding lips.
    “Isaac! Oh
my god, are you okay?!” Daphne wheezed at the same time, clutching her bruised
throat in shock as she stared at the smoking burns that covered his body.
    “I’m fine,”
he said, brushing away her concern. “I came to you as quickly as I could. I
thought that you were calling to me, but it is so hard to tell with our tenuous
connection.” His frustration and regret were palpable, his accent thickening
with his emotions.
    “It’s okay,
she didn’t hurt me,” Daphne said, still frowning at the terrible wounds he’d
suffered. She’d tell him about the scary doll thoughts once he’d healed. And
only after he’d stopped blaming himself for all the times she’d been hurt. “Oh,
Isaac, your skin...” she whispered.
    He’d come
into the light for her, not even sure that she was actually calling for him,
and was burned horrifically because of it. Could she really continue
questioning his feelings for her? Isaac didn’t see her as a possession. He
wasn’t shallow and star-struck by her looks.
    Isaac loved
her.
    Daphne had
always thought love was an indescribable emotion. Something almost magical that
she’d just know when she actually felt it. But for the first time she
saw with clarity what love really was. It was a connection whose force was so
strong, so irresistible, that you were compelled to move heaven and earth to
protect it. It was self-sacrifice and compromise. It was hope and forgiveness. As
she looked at Isaac, she knew for certain that he loved her. And when she
looked deep, deep inside herself, to the very center of her heart, she realized
how she truly felt about him as well.
    “Isaac, I
love you,” she blurted out. He froze in the act of dusting at the skin
sloughing off of his arm and stared at her.
    Most people
throw that phrase around thoughtlessly. They say it to their mailman when he
brings good