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"You mean how you’re kind of a psycho?" asked Remington, a smile in his voice that was extremely confusing.
"I killed—"
"You killed a lot of people," said Paxton. "I personally find that attractive."
My jaw dropped as I stared at the three of them, looking for the punchline. They were acting like it didn't matter, like nothing had changed. But how in the world could that have been possible?
I turned my attention to Stellan. "I'm the monster you thought I was all along," I whispered haltingly.
He shrugged. "Turns out I only like monsters. Nothing else will do." Stellan smirked at me.
"Need us to stab someone to prove we’re all in?" asked Remington, except he sounded completely serious.
My eyes widened. "No, I think there's been enough stabbing lately. We can hold off for a while; we’ve fulfilled our quota."
"Look at our girl, with her jokes," snarked Remington.
"Look at our Queen," purred Paxton, stirring my insides to life. The cold that had infiltrated my veins was slipping away, replaced with the heavy warmth brought by the fact that they still loved me.
"It might happen again," I warned, my gaze darting from face to face. “I might not be able to stop the darkness from coming."
"We won't let the darkness take you. We’ll always find you," Stellan swore, and more tears were assaulting my skin.
“And if we can’t bring you back, we’ll stay there too,” murmured Paxton.
"Come get in bed with me," Stellan ordered. “Or else I’ll yank this needle out of my arm and drag you here.”
I nodded and walked over, slipping into bed and snuggling against his chest as my body continued to rack with sobs.
Their murmured reassurances, their declarations of love…I soaked it all up, grateful that I hadn't lost it.
Gabriela. Delilah. Aurora.
They loved them all.
Maybe it was time I did too.
* * *
I feltlike a new woman as I stopped in front of Cain’s room the next morning. I’d even gotten to shower last night, and get my arm stitched up, so I didn't look like a modern-day version of Bloody Mary.
Cain’s eyes were open, and he was watching a football game on TV, a grimace on his face.
I opened the door. "I already said I'm not talking to any of you until she's here," he growled without looking at me.
"I'm here," I murmured.
His gaze shot over to me and he tried to move off the bed, even though he was strapped to what looked like at least six different machines.
I rushed over to his bed before he could do something crazy.
He looked a lot better, some of his golden glow returned. He reached up and grabbed my face, and brought it towards him until our foreheads were touching.
"Hi," he whispered.
"Hi," I sighed in a choked voice. "Thank you for staying alive."
“Thanks for coming back to me," he responded.
