Blood sprayed black, or maybe the aurora was playing tricks on my eyes. Lorenzo moved, and the eagle pulled up with one wing hanging wrong. Everything was so far away and so quiet except for the ringing in my ears.
Lorenzo and Augustus were fighting, or dancing; I couldn't tell anymore. Blades and talons flashed and there was red on the snow, or black; colors didn't make sense.
The eagle tumbled and hit the snow with limp wings and didn't move.
Was that real? Had that happened?
Silence fell across the tundra. Even the wind seemed to pause.
Constantine's voice crackled over the PA. Something about being dead. Something about running.
The helicopter noise faded. Were they leaving? Why would he just leave?
Hands on my face. Pressure. Pain exploded fresh, and I tried to scream but couldn't remember how.
"Stay with me." Lorenzo's voice was close and far away at the same time, shaking. "Stay with me. You don't get to fucking die."
I didn’t want to die. I didn’t want to sleep either, but I was so tired, and the world was suddenly so warm and peaceful. Even the pain had faded to something small and distant.
His face swam above me, blurry.
"The kids." My tongue was thick. "Did we—"
"They're safe." Pressure on my face again. "Now shut up and stay with me."
Safe. The kids were safe. Good. That was good.
"Rafael!" Lorenzo's voice was breaking, panicked. "Look at me. Look at me, goddammit!"
I was looking. Wasn't I? Everything was so blurry. The aurora danced above, and it was so beautiful. When had it stopped hurting?
"I love you." The words felt thick in my mouth. "Lorenzo, I…"
"No. No, no, no." His hands were shaking against my face, frantic. "You don't get to say goodbye. Rafael, please. Please stay with me. I can't—I need you to—"
I wanted to stay. I did. But I was so tired. My whole body was made of lead, and sleep sounded so good. Just sleep. Just rest.
"Don't you dare leave me." His voice cracked completely. "Don't you dare. Not after everything. Not after—Rafael, please, I'm begging you, just stay with me."
I fought. I fought with everything I had.I love you. I want to stay with you. But I can’t. My eyes are too heavy.
So I let go.
I closed my eyes, andthe world was quiet.
It’d been eight hourssince Rafael had nearly bled out in the snow, and I still wasn’t sure he was going to live.
The plane ride blurred together. Diego had gotten the bleeding to stop, but Rafael's face remained gray and still, his breathing shallow. The two-and-a-half-hour plane ride stretched into forever.
Then there was the scramble to get him into Diego's truck, the drive through the Seattle rain to this safe house. Diego's aunt Florica had met us at the door without questions, her son Andrei already waiting. The unlicensed field surgeon had taken one look at Rafael and disappeared upstairs with him.
That had been four hours ago. Four hours without knowing whether Rafael was alive or dead.
Now I paced Diego's aunt's living room while strong coffee and rain coated the back of my throat, mixing with the copper tang of dried blood still under my fingernails. I couldn't stop moving. Window to archway to window again, my boots tracking dirt across worn hardwood that creaked in the same spots every time.
Rain hammered the windows. Gray light filtered through lace curtains that probably belonged to someone's grandmother. Outside on the porch, Jasper lit another cigarette, his third since we'd arrived.Maybe his fourth. His eyes kept cutting to the corner of the room where Eight crouched over wooden blocks.
The girl stacked them one by one. Then she'd reach the top and her fist would come down, scattering pieces across the floor in one violent sweep.
