I shook my head and hoped Phoenix would be permitted to shed some more light on the matter. Instead, he clenched his jaw in frustration.
They aren’t letting him say any more.
“Ask Steph,” he said through gritted teeth, as if it were a battle just to utter the words.
And then they were gone.
Before I climbed back down into Dapper’s apartment, I texted Steph with an update before remembering the hour. I hoped I hadn’t woken her, but then my phone beeped with a reply. Considering going out for a run, I headed into my room.
Only to find Lincoln there, standing by the window in the dark.
“And the angel said: ‘I have learned that all men live not by care for themselves but by love.’”
Leo Tolstoy
“We didn’t finish our conversation,” he said.
I stayed near the entrance to the room, maintaining as much distance as possible and suddenly conscious of my baggy sweat pants and oversized black sweater that was so old and worn, it had holes around the neckline. Of course, he looked…distracting, in faded jeans and a navy shirt, hanging unbuttoned and loose over a black T-shirt.
“It’s two a.m.,” I replied, as if that actually mattered. “And the less conversation you and I have, the better.” I stepped aside and held the door open, hoping he hadn’t noticed the tremor in my hand.
Relief washed over me when he gave a small—conceding—nod and walked slowly toward the door. And then my stomach dropped when his arm whipped out and grabbed the edge only to slam it shut with both of us still in the room.
Standing close and breathing hard, he spoke in a low voice. “Am I so insignificant to you that you won’t answer a few simple questions?”
Defiantly, I walked over to where he’d stood by the window, re-creating the illusion of distance despite being acutely aware of how close we now were. How alone.
“Ask away,” I said, surprising myself but hoping this was the fastest way to get this conversation done with. “If I can answer, I will. But then we move on. We need to work out what’s going on in New Orleans, and I need to stay focused on Spence.”
“Fine. First of all, clarify for me that you are not and have not been seeing Gray?”
I shook my head and kept my eyes on the windowsill. “Not that it matters, but no. That’s not a possibility for me.”
“Then why did I see the two of you walking out of some pub in Shoreditch a year ago with you in his arms while he yelled out to anyone who would listen that he was going home with you?” he accused. “I saw him kiss you.”
I flinched.
Should I let him believe it? Would it be better for him? To let him hate me this way?
But I couldn’t seem to conjure the lie. Instead, I sighed, leaning against the wall. “When I first moved to London, I had no one. I was broke, surviving day to day, and I didn’t want to use Mom and Dad’s money. One night I was out hunting, and I stumbled upon an exile in a hurry. I followed him to an old warehouse, where I found another four of them, and Gray hung up by his feet, barely alive. He was outnumbered and those exiles were their own special brand of sick. I could hear them talking about all the things they were going to do to him, and it was clear they’d already done a lot. The smart move would’ve been to wait them out and take them down, but I could tell that Gray didn’t have long left in him, and I…I recognized him from Santorini.”
I ducked into my en suite, where I ran the tap and splashed water on my face before coming back out, conscious of Lincoln’s eyes on me the entire time.
“I hadn’t spoken to another person, let alone Grigori, in months,” I explained, resuming my position by the window. “So I stepped in. I fought off three of them without too much trouble, but the last two had me and my dagger was thrown.”
I reached into my bag and withdrew a long, slim arrow with a sharp tip.
Lincoln’s eyes went wide. I knew he was remembering the night Phoenix had done Lilith’s dirty work and shot me with all those arrows.
“Yeah. It’s my sick joke, I suppose. I usually have it fastened to my back.” I shrugged. “It seemed fitting, and it’s always handy.” I spun the arrow to show how it split into two halves, making it twice the weapon. I rarely hunted without it.
“Grigori blade?” he asked, looking at the metal tip.
“Not so much.” I held out the inside of my wrist, unclasping the cuff and exposing the scar of the wound I’d first received in Jordan. I ignored his sharp intake of breath. The scar had been getting progressively worse each time I opened the wound. It was the only one that never healed completely.
“Your blood,” he murmured, almost painfully.
I tried for an easy smile as I put my cuff back on. “I’m toxic; what can I say?”
When he didn’t smile back, I kept talking. “Anyway, I saved Gray, and he saw me use it. I panicked that he’d tell other Grigori about it. The only people who really know about my blood are Spence, Griffin, and Steph, though I figure Salvatore, Zoe, Onyx, and Dapper have a pretty good idea. And you. You know.”
He nodded.
“And then, I healed him.”
Lincoln’s nostrils flared at that. I tried to ignore it and the sensation it ignited in my stomach.
“And that freaked him out completely,” I powered on. “But he remembered me from Santorini, and when I asked him, he agreed to let me hang out for a while and get in on a few paying jobs. He never told anyone about me, and he knew I was…that I didn’t want to be social. Some of the Rogues can be forward at times, and after I beat one to a bloody pulp, it became clear that if I wanted to stay around, I had to work something out. One night when a couple of the guys started getting carried away, Gray just grabbed me and told them all I was off limits and that he was taking me home with him. They all just assumed he was staking some kind of claim, and Gray being Gray, they accepted it. Every once in a while, he’d leave the bar with me or put an arm around me and the guys would leave me alone.”
I was blushing, embarrassed to admit I’d let this happen, but I’d been desperate to be around people—even if I couldn’t actually be close to any of them.
“That night you…saw. He ended up unconscious in the alley behind the pub for touching me like that. He never got carried away again.”
Lincoln, who’d remained deathly silent throughout the rehash, fell against the door, as if his legs had given out.
“What?” I asked, alarmed.
He seemed to be struggling to find equilibrium and shook his head repetitively. Finally he looked up, his green eyes so pained, it hurt to see them. “I traveled everywhere. For a year, I was always one step behind. I found your parents in Spain. They let me stay with them for a few days, but it was torture, sleeping in a bed I knew you’d been in just weeks before. And, of course, they wouldn’t tell me where you were. I ransacked the whole place to find the next lead.”
“I didn’t know you stayed with them.”
He nodded, unsurprised. “I followed you to Prague, Rome, Luzern, Brussels, always just missing you.”
I swallowed. “I know.”
“I know you know. And I know that’s why you kept moving, but I couldn’t stop. How could I when I knew what we were? Nothing was going to stop me. When I finally traced you to London, it was so hard to get a pinpoint on you. Something had changed, and I was afraid you’d been hurt. I’d heard rumors of a girl—a Rogue fighting solo and taking on groups of exiles at a time.” He half smiled. “I figured you’d be reckless enough to do that. So I tracked down Gray, hoping that he might have heard something or known someone who could help me find you.”
I nodded as it all came together. “And then you saw us.”
He grimaced, his face now ashen. “You’d learned to keep your shields up, but the moment I saw you, I was able to break through them and sense you again. But you were…in his arms. You h
ad another life. And I wasn’t part of it.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I never would’ve believed it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes.”
“But you did.”
He nodded. “And now I force myself every day not to go after you again.” He swallowed tightly. “Even when I feel you come to me.”
I mirrored the action, my mouth cotton dry. “My Sight,” I said, understanding what he was saying. “I…I’m sorry about that. I can’t…when I’m asleep, I can’t always control it.”
He shrugged. “Half the time, I convinced myself I was imagining it anyway.”
His voice was so strained, I wanted to reach out to him. “So then you came back here?” I asked instead.
“Yes.”
“Well, it worked out for the best then,” I said. “You’ve done really well.”
He pushed away from the door. “You’re not understanding, Vi.”
He just called me Vi. Don’t let it affect you. Remember!
I cleared my throat. “I think I caught most of it, and I’m sorry that I hurt you and that things have gone the way they have. But you’re better off. Trust me.”
“No,” he said, his eyes homing in on mine. “You’re definitely missing something. If I’d known you weren’t seeing Gray. If I’d—”
I cut him off. “It changes nothing, Lincoln.”
“It changes everything!” he thundered. “I let you go because I thought you’d moved on! That I was ruined because I couldn’t do the same, but if you could, then I really had no right to stand in your way!” He was still yelling. “But you’re not fixed at all, are you? We’re still us in all the terrible ways and none of the good!”
He was moving. I couldn’t breathe as he stalked across the room, my back hitting the wall when I tried to retreat. “There is no way I’m going to stand by and let you walk out of my life again.”
I was stunned, but Lincoln didn’t hesitate. He grabbed me, a hand on either side of my face, and slammed his mouth against mine.
Every sensation I’d spent every second of every day trying to suppress flamed to life. Honey and the warmth of the sun enveloped me, and my body tightened in all that was bittersweet. It only lasted a few seconds before I threw him off me, breathless.
But no one forgets heaven—even if you only get it for a few seconds.
And then I snapped, trembling from head to toe. “Get the hell off me, damn you. You have no right to do this!”
But Lincoln showed no sign of backing down. I’d never seen him like this. “I have every right and you know it. I gave up everything for you!”
And there we had it. The reminder I needed.
I bristled, my expression turning cold. “No,” I said, suddenly calm. “You took everything from me.”
He blinked. “I gave my life for us!”
“You gave it for you!” I threw back.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“You want to know why we can’t be together? Fine! I can’t ever be with you because you’ll always be there to jump in and die for me. You’ll die to save me and gladly leave me behind again. I’m barely here as it is, barely alive!” My voice broke, but now the words were coming, they weren’t about to stop. “Do you remember what it felt like when your soul shattered?”
“Yes,” he sneered. “It isn’t something I’ll forget.”
“Tell me,” I demanded.
He visibly shuddered, his voice dropping. “It was painful. Incredibly so. It surpasses anything imaginable. I can’t put it into words.”
“Cold,” I said softly.
His brow furrowed. “Yes. It was like an intense cold but so much worse, and everything felt twisted inside—like it was all converging and exploding at the same time, and then on top of it all was something so suffocating and inescapable because it was locked in my own body.”
I nodded. “And how long did it last before there was nothing, before you were completely shattered?”
He swallowed hard. “Minutes maybe. It could’ve been less or more, but if felt like a lifetime.”
“And when you came back, the pain was gone?” I held my breath, knowing that this would answer one of my greatest fears.
“It was. Not that it mattered.”
A tear slipped down my cheek. As much as it was a relief to know his soul pain ended when I brought him back, it was still horrible to know he’d had to suffer the pain even just for a few minutes. “Just leave, Lincoln,” I said quietly. “Please go.”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “Nothing you can say will make me leave this room. Why are you asking about it, anyway, and who told you about the coldness?”
But even as he said it, the realization dawned on his face. He stumbled back a step. “No,” he whispered.
I couldn’t respond.
“No, it can’t be.” His head was shaking back and forth, the action a plea more than anything else.
I looked away.
“How?” he breathed. “How can you have gone through it and still be here? I don’t understand.”
It was a reasonable question. In his mind and anyone else’s, I must not have endured the pain of the shattering because I didn’t disappear like he and Nyla had.
I let out a sad breath, knowing that I couldn’t leave it hanging like this. It was better to just get it done. Finished. I turned toward the window.
“After Phoenix killed me and brought me back, my soul couldn’t find you. It hadn’t experienced the disconnection in the way yours had, but it responded nonetheless. The pain was there, in all its glory, but I didn’t shatter completely, although there are times I wish for it.”
“Are times? Wish—as in still. Now?”
When I didn’t answer, his tone became menacing. “Violet, so help me God, answer me.”
I spun around to face him, my eyes locking with his and menacing in their own right. “It never leaves. From the moment I was revived, it has never left. You call me a coward for turning off my emotions, but without my shields, I’d be just as insane as any exile.”
Lincoln shook his head again, now frantic. “They said…Everyone said when I woke up that physically, you’d been fine. And you look—” He held a hand out to me. “Damn it, you’re more beautiful than ever. How do you even stand up?”
“Because I have no choice.”
His mouth dropped open. “But you do! We can fix this! I can fix this! Our souls are made to be joined. How can you have let this go on?” he screamed, looking so angry at the world, at me.
My anger rose up to match his. I clenched my hands. “Because I’m not interested in a Band-Aid! It will only end up killing me when it gets ripped off!”
“What the hell does that mean?”
I stepped toward him and pushed him in the chest. “You don’t get it—you never will! You want to run toward the fire to save me even when I’m the one carrying the bucket of water. You can’t help yourself!”
Lincoln threw his hands wide. “Because I fucking love you!”
My heart exploded, but I fought back my emotions and pushed against his chest again.
“It’s not enough!” I yelled. “I don’t want someone to die for me.” My breath caught in my throat. “Don’t you get it, Linc? I need you to live for me. I needed you to let me risk my life when the alternative meant certain death for you. You left me!” I cried. “And you did it with a full heart. You told yourself it was right, that you could make this sacrifice, but it was you who was the coward because you got to leave!” I smacked my own chest. “I was the one left behind with the empty, broken soul.”
Tears were in his eyes. “But you brought me back! It could’ve all been okay. Why’d you bring me back? Just to punish me?”
“What did you expect me to do? Bring you back and then just stand aside so I could watch you die for me all over again?
I’d rather live on the other side of the world, cold and in constant agony, and at least know that somewhere you still exist, because I know for certain that if you’re with me—you’re as good as gone.”
Lincoln’s voice lowered. “Tell me you wouldn’t do the same for me. If I was in trouble, that you wouldn’t give everything?”
“Not if it meant my leaving just so you could stay. I wouldn’t condemn you to this life. I’d have your back to the last. I’d do everything I could, bar simply taking your place. But you would, even if it weren’t certain I would die without your stepping in.”
“That’s why you left.” His shoulders dropped. “That’s why you were so upset with me tonight when I stepped into the fight.”
“I left because I promised my angel maker that I’d fight harder and give everything to hunting down exiles. It was our deal—my decision, no one else’s—and I knew that all my future offered me was more blood. More death. I could live with that, I’d been given my three wishes, but I couldn’t sentence all my friends to that future too.”
Lincoln fell to his knees. “Three wishes?”
I’d said too much.
“Your parents?”
I nodded.
“The other two?”
When I didn’t answer, he yelled, “Tell me!”
I swallowed. “Phoenix. Though apparently I needn’t have worried about him.”
“I heard he was an angel again, that he helped you.”
I nodded. “He’s a kind of guide now, but when he died, I thought he’d gone to the pits. So I asked for him to be okay. Turns out he already was.”
“Have you seen him often?” he rasped.
“Only a few times.”
Lincoln nodded. “And the third?”
I sighed. “What do you think?”
He looked up, ruined just like me. “I think you gave up your family and friends and everything you have known and loved to become a warrior in return for bringing me back. And then you left me behind, where I was expected to live in the shadow of your life and be reminded of you every day yet be without you, just like you’re accusing me of doing. So tell me,” he said as he stood, “did you give up everything just so that I could live?”