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Blindly groping around, I find his hand and squeeze tight. “Ellister?”
“Yes?” There’s so much hope in his voice because I said his name. “Are you hurt, darling?”
Am I? Pressing a palm to my chest, I feel my heart beating overtime, but I’m not in pain anymore. The burn in my arm is fading quickly, and I’m feeling more like myself with every passing second. “Not really.”
“Good. Let me get the candle.” He pulls away from me.
I don’t want to let him go, but after some light reassurance from him—complete with a cheek caress—I loosen my death grip on his fingers.
When he comes back over with the light, shadows paint his face, but I’m not scared of him anymore. Even though it’s dim, I can piece together his features from memory. Because I know his face. I’m familiar with his unnaturally light eyes and his fangs.
“Are you sure she’s all right?” he barks at Astrid, flexing his own hand. “That was extremely unpleasant.”
The little woman harumphs. “She appears well enough to me.”
Moving the candle around, up, and down, Ellister looks me over, studying different parts of me. That little wrinkle on the side of his nose deepens when he twists his lips with concern.
The adorable wrinkle. I’m well acquainted with it. I want to touch it.
So I do just that.
I reach up and smooth it out.
Ellister swallows hard, his emotions rising as he looks to Astrid. “It actually worked.”
“Of course it did,” Astrid snaps back like she’s offended he doubted her abilities.
After setting the candle down on the floor, Ellister winds his arms around me and pulls me to him. He repeatedly kisses the top of my head while patting various areas of my body, like he’s trying to assure himself that I’m in one piece.
I can’t believe how hateful I’ve been to him over the past few days.
All that staring and watching me… he’s been waiting for me to recognize him. He’s been begging me to look into his eyes and immediately sense him as my soul mate.
But I couldn’t because he doesn’t have a soul.
“I’m sorry.” My throat gets tight as I apologize to the man I care so much for. “I’m so sorry, Ellister.”
He releases me and pulls back. “You’ve done nothing wrong.”
“I didn’t remember you.”
“Rememberisn’t the right word,” Astrid pipes up. “In your defense, you can’t recall what hasn’t happened yet. Most of what you’ve seen is from the future. I simply showed you what would be if Ellister hadn’t intervened. However, the memories will feel real anyway. Think of them as almost-memories.” Hastily, she packs up the bowl and some of her supplies. “Now, you’ll feel tired after that. Possibly a little confused, too, but the almost-memories should sort themselves out with time.”
She’s right. Rubbing my temples, I try to make sense of the puzzle pieces floating around in my brain. They don’t fit together. I’m having trouble putting things into chronological order, but they fall in line slowly. Months of events that haven’t occurred yet are getting organized in my head.
My first symptoms.
All the hospital visits and weeks of pain.
The fundraiser. The dance Ellister and I shared. The kiss.
The day of the tour. The kittens. The movie.
My quick deterioration, and my last moments next to the wildflowers with confessions of love and the siphoning of Ellister’s memories.
What’s weird is, I can actually see what happened after I died through Ellister’s eyes. Somehow, putting both our hands in the electric bowl linked our minds. It’s like I watched a movie about us, how Ellister begged for my soul and took me away from the evil overlord who wanted to claim it.
Vaeront. I can picture him so clearly on his creepy throne.
