Page 58 of Night Shift

I will let it come.

And when I leave?

I will trust you to return.

Carefully, I slip from beneath her.

Calliope makes a small sound and turns toward the warmth I leave behind. The sight nearly undoeses me, but I pull the blanket over her shoulder and press my mouth to her temple.

“I will see you tonight,” I whisper.

It is not a plea.

It is trust.

I leave her apartment and step into the darkness I once believed I could make eternal.

At the edge of the world, Dawn is waiting.

She does not scold me. Perhaps she sees there is nothing she could say that I do not already know.

For the first time in a week, I step aside willingly.

The locked machinery of the world shudders, catches, and begins to move. Somewhere below, birds stir in confused trees. Flowers turn toward a light they cannot yet see. The tide shifts beneath the moon, and across Blackthorn Bay, the black horizon softens.

Then comes the first thin seam of pink.

It hurts.

Of course it does.

Love has not cured me of the fear of losing her. I suspect nothing ever will.

But I finally understand that loving Calliope does not mean preventing her from leaving.

It means believing she will come back.

I relinquish the sky.

And Dawn returns.

CHAPTER 10

CALLIOPE

When I wake, I reach for Erebus before I open my eyes.

My hand finds cold sheets.

For one terrible second, I think he’s gone.

Then something warm touches my face.

Sunlight.

I open my eyes.

The room is flooded with it.