11. Barbara

She should have died that day. Against all odds, she survived.

The bullet grazed the side of her skull and, in its trajectory, tore off her ear. It was impossible to reconstruct the torn cartilage, so the surgeon removed what remained of the auditory pavilion, while cursing in a muffled voice - for it was wrong for a doctor to think so - that it was a disgrace to disfigure such beauty.

He'd never had a patient of such beauty - and he'd never have it again.

She, of course, remained oblivious to all these matters. The pain was too intense to worry about anything else, and in any case, she'd never given any importance to her beauty - not even when it had really been something otherworldly.

After screaming for someone to quench her pain, she remained sedated for days in the intensive care unit. Finally, she could not stay there anymore and was moved to an upper floor. She was then informed that during the time she'd been sedated, her fiancé had been visiting her.

She froze. She didn't have any fiancé. She had never had anyone before – and she never would.

But she didn't say anything. She didn't even claim police protection. Why delay the inevitable?

He'd found her once more, and this time, he wouldn't let her escape.

From that moment on, she simply awaited her killer. After all, what else had she done in all those years?

"When?" Lara said tersely, arms crossed over her chest.

Zip twisted his headphones' wires, uncomfortable. "Last night, I guess."

"And you just let him go?"

The hacker sighed. He'd expected her to burst into a wave of fury, screaming, fists blowing on his stuff or some other outburst when realizing that, once again, Kurtis had acted solo and left everyone else behind. But Lara was dejected, exhausted, almost indifferent... and Zip didn't know to deal with this new facet. "Look, babe, I don't mess with Kurt, just like I don't mess with you. I tried to make him stay, that we were a team. But he said this needed to be done alone, or else it wouldn't work."

"Meaning?" Lara said, her sight lost in Zip's monitors.

"Grand Bazaar's yesterday shooting... he believes it could be Schäffer. He said he would investigate it." Not gonna say any more shit, Zip remarked mentally.

But Lara didn't ask anything else. She nodded slowly and left the barrack.

"You're weird, girl." The hacker mumbled when she'd left. "I prefer you pissed off, honestly."

It was ridiculously easy to get to her - in fact, worrying. The Turkish police didn't seem much interested in protecting the victim, busy instead in finding the shooter.

Amateurs, Kurtis thought contemptuously.

He could have killed her twenty times during the week he'd been around her, if he'd wanted to. When he meant it, he was even a good actor. He showed up, visibly distressed, the second day after the shooting, asking for Barbara Standford, and claimed to be her fiancé.

Nobody doubted he was so - but Barbara was in serious condition, in intensive care, and could not be seen. He spent the night and all the next day without moving from his place, wandering nervously, until the surgeon and some nurses, compassionate, informed him that his fiancée was still sedated, but recovering - and even allowed him to see her.

Seated next to her in that cold and silent hospital room, surrounded by sedated people or in unfortunate condition, Kurtis could hardly confirm if she was the person he'd believed her to be. A strong bandage wrapped around her head, shaved for surgery, although the hair on her eyebrows could determine it was black, very dark. However, the face, swollen and heavily bandaged on the left side, was still unrecognizable. He examined carefully the straight, delicate nose, the thin, soft, and perfect lips, but as long as she didn't open her eyes and look directly at him – it just could be her.

By the time Barbara regained consciousness, everyone in that place took for granted he was her fiancé. They had grown used to him.

Zip felt he was too old for that shit when he found Selma whimpering, huddled in a corner of the barrack they shared, sitting on the floor, and with a huge tub of ice cream in her hands.

Among hiccups and sobs, broken and disconnected sentences, the distressed Turkish archaeologist ended up telling the hacker about what had happened between Lara and Kurtis.

Zip let out a whistle. "Such drama." He commented. "But damnit, why are you crying? It's their mess, not yours."

"B-b-be-because I feel very sorry!" Selma sobbed, sniffing deeply. "Th-they make s-s-s-s-su-such a pr-pretty co-couple! They do-do-don't deserve this!" Then she opened her mouth and put a huge spoonful of ice cream inside. She chewed slowly while whining loudly.

"What the actual fuck..." Zip mumbled. Then he looked intently at the ice cream jar. "Where the hell did you get that? It's the middle of winter!"

Selma spun the spoon in her hand. "I-I've found it in the fr-fridge o-of the ma-master barrack..."

"The one whose power we'd cut off last summer? Shit, Selma. Gimme that crap." And with a swipe he snatched the tub. "Must be spoiled by now."

"Po-po-poor Anna..." The archaeologist sobbed again.

Sighing, Zip tossed the ice cream into the trash can. "I'm too old for this shit." He mumbled.

Feeling her mind blank, Lara began to pick up her things.

She didn't have an established plan. In fact, she'd always been one for improvising. But suddenly, she was tired of all that. Selma's thesis, Schäffer, the Lux Veritatis' remains, Marie... everything didn't matter anymore.

She was tired, very tired.

She was leaving, and she was taking Anna with her. But where to go? She didn't want to go back to England yet. A Christmas trapped in Croft manor was the last thing she needed. Even at the risk of revoking her original idea, perhaps Egypt was the most acceptable option.

Egypt, Egypt, always Egypt. No matter the past, she always ended up returning to Egypt. In a way, it was even comforting - nothing could hurt her permanently.

When she lifted a bundle of folded clothes to place them inside her travel bag, she felt something creaking inside it. Surprised, she examined it and found the tip of a sheet protruding from between the clothes. Grabbing it, she pulled it out.

She already knew what it was before she took it out completely. She knew those papers.

The clothes fell to the floor while holding the sheet in her hand, suddenly trembling.

Apparently, he'd drawn it shortly before leaving and had left the drawing there, among her clothes, for her to find it. As if he knew she might be packing soon.

"Bastard." She mumbled, her entire body trembling.

The drawing was, as always, spectacular. He'd not lost skill in all those years. There she was, standing next to the hotel window, the Bosphorus' beautiful view behind her – but she wasn't looking at it. She was turned towards the observer - towards himself, in fact - and looked at him with a mixture of fear and sadness. Still young, still beautiful. Furious.

The Lara in the drawing had her hand outstretched, stopping him from coming any closer.

Don't!

Swallowing saliva, Lara had the impulse to tear down that new plea, that new love tribute, but she only got to crumple it in her fist.

"Bastard." She repeated - and her eyes filled with tears.

He entered silently into the room and closed the door behind him. However, he made sure to make enough noise for her to notice - but the woman sitting in the wheelchair by the window didn't move.

Slowly, with studied caution, the man advanced to the bedside table and left the bouquet of flowers there. A bouquet he'd showed ostentatiously through the corridor and reception of the hospital so that everyone could see how happy the loving fiancé was to finally see his love conscious.

After a few seconds of silence, the woman, still looking through the window, whispered: "Welcome, Kurtis Trent."

"Hello, Bathsheba."

When saying that name he saw her shake from head to toe. Then, she turned her face towards him. Kurtis let out the air he'd held in his lungs. It was her.

"Don't call me that." She said, nailing into him those impossible eyes, those green eyes he remembered well. "That's not my name anymore."

"As you wish, Barbara." He said, and took a step towards her - but suddenly, the woman tensed.

"Please, don't come any closer." She spoke with difficulty, with half paralyzed face, and still, she'd kept her beauty - not the supernatural creature she'd once been, but a very beautiful woman yet.

Kurtis raised his hands, showing his palms in peace, and stepped back to sit on the bed in the room. Observing the woman, he realized she was very weak. Pale, thin and sickly, her frail body barely stood out under the wide hospital pyjamas. Now she only wore bandages on the side of her head, where her ear was missing. That side was swollen and paralyzed.

And still, she was the most beautiful woman he would ever see in that world.

"They said it's not permanent." Kurtis pointed to her face. "Little by little you'll regain mobility."

She smiled with a crooked smile, which made her look oddly ironic. For a moment, she reminded him slightly of her creator and biological mother, Giselle Boaz. "Did you come to chat?"

"What do you think I came for?"

Barbara turned her face to the window. Now that her head was uncovered, Kurtis saw only half of it had been shaved. The rest of the hair, long, soft and silky, of an intense black colour, fell on the opposite shoulder. Kurtis calculated she must have been in her early thirties - if that calculation worked for her.

"Maybe to kill me."

"Could've done that a thousand times by now." The man shook his head. "And the one who chases you too. You're an easy target."

"If you don't come to kill me, what do you want, Kurtis Trent?"

But he wasn't in a hurry. Looking at him, Barbara noticed he'd aged a lot. She calculated he might be close to fifty. He was still good looking, of course. He'd always had been. Not that she hadn't trouble in judging that, though.

"I'm here to make a deal, Barbara." He couldn't help uttering her new name with some sarcasm.

She watched him for a moment. Then, she nodded slightly. "You want to get to Schäffer."

"Right now, he's a bigger problem for you than for me - but when he's done with you, he'll come for my family. I can't let it happen."

Suddenly, the woman's eyes filled with tears. She blinked fast to control them, but the semi-paralyzed eye couldn't do so, so a tear rolled down her cheek. "He's a monster." She whispered. "He's been after me, tirelessly, for years. He'll stop at nothing."

"You serious?" Kurtis twisted his mouth. "Weren't you the one watching when he tortured me for months?"

"I'm no longer your enemy, Kurtis Trent."

"Neither am I, but don't be mistaken, we're not friends. So, answer me. How did you get here and how did you manage to dodge a professional killer during all these years? Because of your severe injury," he pointed to her head, "I'd say you're no longer Nephili."

She shook her head. "No, I'm not anymore. But it's a long story."

"I've time for a long story." Kurtis fumbled in his pocket, but suddenly remembered he was in a hospital and, grunting, moved his hand away from the pack of cigarettes.

The wounded woman turned her gaze to the cityscape behind the window and, after a moment of silence, began to tell her story.

Anna wasn't upset nor surprised about the novelty of going to Egypt, something she'd asked insistently, but had been denied so far. Now, she nodded calmly and began quietly packing her luggage.

Lara, standing in front of her with arms akimbo, raised an eyebrow. The Anna she knew would've jumped and screamed out in excitement. "What's wrong?" She asked.

The girl shrugged as she continued to put some clothes and her sketchbook in her backpack. "Nothing. I guess I'm tired."

"Anna, look at me."

She put her backpack aside and confronted her mother.

"Do you prefer to return to England?"

She shook her head. "No. We're going to Egypt and we'll come back here."

"Oh really?" Lara crossed her arms. "Where that came from?"

"We gotta be here by the time Aunt Selma presents her thesis."

"You suddenly interested in that?"

"Uhm..." The girl blushed. "Well, Dad's going back here too."

Lara sighed. "How did you..."

"He promised me." Anna cut off. "He told me he would be back."

"You saw him go."

"He told me he would be back." Her daughter insisted. "And a Lux Veritatis always keeps his word."

She held her gaze to her mother for a moment. Finally, Lara nodded slightly and said: "Fine. We'll be back, too."

"At the beginning, all I felt was pain. The Nephili aren't - weren't - immune to pain, but this lasted little. However, the pain I felt didn't fade.

And something else. Fatigue, the weight of years on me. I had never felt such thing, not in my immortal body. I was tired. Everything hurt.

I suspected almost from the beginning that She'd punished me with the worst punishment imaginable. Death is nothing but rest. I know that my immortal father, Joachim Karel, rested when he died. The visions that your lover had of him weren't more than that: visions. He's vanished into nothingness - and I was also meant to disappear.

But She kept me alive, and then I was made mortal. A woman of flesh and bone. A finite, imperfect being. A weak and vulnerable creature.

I had the proof when seeing my blood had turned red and my wounds not healing - but the most painful test was yet to come."

At that moment, her voice faltered. She looked up at the window, rather at the landscape, not sure if going on. But Kurtis was still observing her in silence. He'd always been good at listening.

Hesitating, Barbara went on talking. "I was lost, alone and scared. Didn't know what to do, didn't expect to be alive. I wandered for a time through that Syrian desert, until I found Schäffer. He kept waiting, you know. I had promised I would bring Giselle back. I lied - or at least, I lied in part. I always knew Giselle would not return. But I couldn't be absolutely certain of Lilith's plans. She cheated on me, how could I take for granted even the last aspect of her plans? I returned to him trusting that he would protect me. After all, I had been his Lady, his mistress, the object of his veneration." Barbara swallowed before continuing. "I underestimated him. Although he hid it well, the love he'd felt for Giselle was far greater than the loyalty he owed me as Master of the Cabal. Not even being her daughter and creation made him have compassion for me. He blamed me for Giselle's death... he blamed me for her not returning. And he took revenge on me, taking advantage of the fact that I was now mortal and unable to defend myself." She made a vague gesture with her fingers. "I won't dwell into details. You've been a soldier. You know what men do to helpless women. Also, apparently to mortal men I look beautiful." She put her hand to her aching forehead. "It wasn't me who killed Giselle. It didn't belong to me, nor did I desire such thing. The Angel must die at the hands of the Innocent, it was predestined. Maddalena, the prostitute, pushed her into the void."

"Giulia Manfredi." Kurtis interrupted for the first time. "Her name was Giulia Manfredi."

Barbara nodded. "Yes. She was born only for that purpose...like each one of us." She gave a deep sigh. "But I was the one who paid for it. For weeks..." Her voice faltered again, and suddenly she shook her head. "I managed to escape from Schäffer when he let his guard down. He also underestimated me." She looked up and fixed her eyes on Kurtis. "Since then I've been running away from him."

The ex-Legionnaire observed her in silence. If he felt any compassion for the fate of the woman, it certainly didn't show up in his features. "How has such a lost and helpless person survived so many years?" He insisted. "Schäffer's a pro killer." He didn't bother to ask why she'd not sought police or authority protection - obviousness was out of the question.

The woman smiled, and, for a moment, her features lit up through her face wounds. "I'm smart and I learn fast. As I said, he underestimated me too. He'd not managed to hunt me until now..."

"Until now."

"Exactly."

"It was just luck he missed the shot in the Grand Bazaar. Won't happen again."

"I know. I've accepted it." She sighed again. "I don't care. I'm aware sooner or later he will hunt me down and then I will die. But that will be much better than this lonely and miserable existence... weak and mortal in a dying world. Any ending is better than this... and of course, better than what he did to me."

"If your existence is so horrible, why didn't you end things?"

The soft lips curled into a vague smile. "And do you ask me that, Kurtis Trent? For years you were miserable, I know. Before you found the woman who gave meaning to your life. Why didn't you end things before? It was impossible for you to see her coming."

The former Lux Veritatis shrugged and didn't respond.

"Precisely." She nodded. "And, besides, I'm not sure if I'll be put to rest, like Karel." The woman's eyes darkened. "What if instead of vanishing... when going to the other side... I find Her again?" She paled brutally. "I prefer to exhaust as much as possible this mortal and horrible life rather than facing Lilith again."

Kurtis got up then. "Nothing to lose, and everything to gain." He said. "Looks like we have a deal."

Barbara nodded. "We have it." She looked back at the cityscape. "I'll be your bait. I'll bring you Adolf Schäffer, and the rest is up to you." She hesitated before continuing. "I know I've no right to ask anything from you..."

"Say it." He demanded.

Barbara stared at him. "Don't let him touch me again. Ever." She shook her head. "I'd rather die before that."

Kurtis nodded. "That won't be necessary."

The woman smiled, closed her eyes and leaned back in her wheelchair. There was no more, although Kurtis could have asked her... a painful question, asked a long time ago, to another woman, the woman who was now his whole life, the woman who no longer loved him.

You're trusting me?

No need to ask. It was the oath of a Lux Veritatis.