THE SAD MELODY of the mourning dove seemed appropriate somehow. The delicate bird sang like its heart was broken on the wrought-iron fence behind me. Only half listening to it, I gazed into the fountain as memories drifted through my mind. Wicked blue eyes haunted me today as they had every day since he disappeared. The memories were so real, I woke up some nights with his hands on my body, only to curl up in loneliness. I could still feel his lips on mine as the rain poured over us in the horrid forest. I shook my head to clear the senseless dreaming. He was gone, and he was never coming back. Knowing it and believing it were two different things. I’ve had a year to come to terms with it, but it still felt wrong. I still didn’t accept the obvious. He just can’t be gone . . .
In the days following that disastrous raid, I was shattered into a million pieces. If it weren’t for Dec, I would have curled up and slept forever. As it was, his gentle ways gradually brought me out of my stupor and back into the world. Dec had scolded and encouraged me to start living again. Taking me by the hand, he dragged me into the woods to hike and recharge my dead batteries. Even though he hated it, he ran with me until we both dripped with sweat, but I got stronger.
Though no one blamed him, Killian took full responsibility and all of the guilt for Sean’s disappearance. Not eating—not sleeping—he searched endlessly for any signs of Sean. The guilt nearly ate him alive until Zadkiel came to stay with us. He was a godsend, literally. Patiently, he taught us to grieve and to let go of the anger and bitterness. He promised us that things happened for a reason, and we would someday understand. He said letting Sean go would bring me peace again. He said a lot of things that were all probably true. God knows I tried to let Sean go, but my body and soul wouldn’t cooperate. A piece of me had been ripped away, and I still felt un-whole.
The mission in Vermont had destroyed Dagin’s operations and set the chemical weapons development back at least a couple of years. The powers above Alex were thankful for our efforts that day, and we’d been moved to other duties since then. Sure, the mission was a success—but at an unthinkable cost. I couldn’t imagine going through that again, and had refused to use my sight since that day. It was too painful to consider.
Pushing down the pain, I stood to go. Killian was waiting. He watched me with hooded eyes as he leaned against a stone picnic table. I smiled despite the lingering sadness.
“You okay, Princess?” he called. “You look tired.”
“I didn’t sleep much last night,” I explained when I reached him. He lifted my sunglasses and peered into the blue of my eyes.
“Let me help,” he offered for the hundredth time.
“You already have,” I responded with a small smile.
As I turned away from the fountain, I paused. A faint swirl of sparkling gold caught the corner of my eye, and the hair on the back of my neck stood up.