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rose shrilly above the hammering of the rain on the rocks around them. "I love you."
"I love you, too." He winced, drew in a shaking breath that seemed to hurt. "Remember that."
"Don't do it, Killian," she said, pressing harder on his wound. "Don't you die on me. I won't let you."
He wheezed and clutched his hand over hers, wincing at the pain. The look he gave her was so sad, so filled with love, it broke her heart. "I knew ... I... wouldn't be ... there for ... you.. . ."
"Don't you say that. Don't ..." She threw her arms around him and clung to him, breathing in the rainy, bloody scent of him, trying to memorize everything about him in a single, aching touch. "I won't let you go, Killian. I won't. You're coming with me."
He stroked her hair for a second, then his hand wavered, drew back from her head. She heard it thump softly against his thigh. A fluttering sigh escaped him.
Shaking, she drew back. The sight of him was like a sharp blow to the chest. She drew in gasping gulps of air and tried to keep breathing. But she didn't want to, she wanted to curl up alongside him and die. Just die ...
Racking, aching sobs clutched her chest, burned her eyes. With cold, shaking fingers, she pushed the wet hair from his eyes.
He sat slumped against the Rock, his head cocked at an unnatural angle. His face was ash gray, his mouth colorless and slack. He was staring at her through bleak, resigned eyes. "I ... love ... you," he said again, more softly, his voice cracking on the last word. He let out a groaning sigh and reached for her.
She waited for the touch, but it never came. Halfway there, his hand stopped, slid lifelessly downward. He breathed her name, only her name.
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"Killian." She clutched his shoulders, shaking him hard.
He slumped against her, his head fell forward.
"Noooo!" She threw her arms around his lifeless body, throwing herself on top of him, as if her warmth could somehow bring him back to life. Blood seeped through his shirt and stuck to her skin. The smell of it was everywhere. "Don't leave me," she whispered against his ear again and again, tasting the salty moisture of her own tears. "You said you'd hold on to
me-----You promised-----" She reached for his hand,
threaded her wet fingers through his limp, lifeless ones, clinging to him. Sobbing, she brought his hand to her chest, plastered it to her heart. "You said you wouldn't let go. You promised...." Her voice caught, shattered into a great, inhuman howl of pain.
Suddenly she remembered the necklace and Viloula's words. Use it wisely. Lainie had been wrong. She didn't need the necklace to get back. He did.
"Oh, God ..." She wrenched backward and fumbled with the latch at the back of her neck, willing her shaking, ice-cold fingers to function. She couldn't do it, couldn't open the catch. Frustration welled through her, and with a scream, she ripped the necklace from her throat and pressed it to Killian's chest.
It slid downward.
Sobbing, she grabbed his limp hand and pressed the stone against his flesh, forcing his fingers to curl around it. "Take it, damn it. Hold on. You promised-----"
Thunder rumbled again, a sound so loud, it vibrated in the rock walls around her. Lightning ripped through the darkness, for a split second turning the world into a burning ball of white-hot light. She blinked against the brightness and buried her face in the wet crook of his neck, her fingers coiled around his.
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As she lay there, sprawled on top of him, rocking him in shaking arms, a tingling sensation spread through her body. She felt tired suddenly, as if all the fight and fire had drained out of her, leaving only a broken, lifeless shell. Lightning flashed again, hit the rock above her head in a spray of fire-bright sparks. The impossible aroma of roses floated on the wind, mingled with the acrid scent of smoke.
And then she couldn't feel Killian anymore.
Terrified, she withdrew her face from the crook of his neck and stared down at him. He was sitting there, slumped just as before, his eyes closed, his skin deathly pale.
But she couldn't feel him, couldn't feel the wetness of the rain on his still warm skin, couldn't feel the stiff fabric of his duster.
With a sob, she reached for him, tried to touch him again, but her arms and fingers were hazy and unreal, shimmering and insubstantial. Ghost's arms, ghost's fingers.
She was floating away from him, her invisible ghost's body riding on the swelling rise of the wind. She screamed his name, sobbing, and fought the motion, but the more she fought it, the farther she pulled away from him.
Dimly she was aware of the three riders who appeared in the crack of the Rock beside Killian. She watched in horror as the riders approached.
