Page 44 of Night Shift

I follow.

Outside, Blackthorn Bay is still caught beneath my sky.

Streetlights glow against the dark, although it should be late afternoon. The crowd around City Hall has spilled into the street, and somewhere down the block a child is waving a glow stick while his mother argues with someone about whether bedtime still exists.

Calliope walks quickly.

“Calliope.”

She keeps going.

I catch up near the corner.

“Please.”

That makes her stop.

She turns toward me.

“You keep saying you’re doing this because you don’t want to lose me.”

“Yes.”

“I’m right here.”

“For now.”

Her expression crumples for only a second before irritation replaces it.

“That’s how people work, Erebus. We leave. We sleep. We go to work. Sometimes we get pissed off and walk away, and then we come back.”

“Sometimes you do not.”

The words escape before I can soften them.

She goes quiet.

“You will die,” I say.

“I know.”

“I will not.”

“I know that, too.”

“How can you expect me to accept it?”

“Because you don’t get another choice.”

Her voice is gentle now, which is considerably worse than anger.

I look away.

For the first time since I met her, I wish I were capable of lying to myself.

Calliope steps closer.

“You think if you can keep this night going, nothing has to change. But that's not how this works. You can’t freeze the whole world at the exact moment you’re happiest because you’re afraid the next one might hurt.”