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“I’m my own person. I can do as I please. Haven’t you had enough? Aren’t you tired of this yet?”
“No. Never. I want a thousand lifetimes. If you go, you’re only pausing a clock on something inevitable. Because I will find you. And I will bring you back to me over and over again until you learn that I will never give up on this. You became mine the day you stood on that temple and bound yourself to me, and just because I’m free of my uncle, doesn’t mean I wasn’t willing to give away the rest of my freedom for you. That hasn’t changed just because this world is cruel.”
I forced a smile as I buried my fingers in his soft hair. “Did you just threaten to stalk me for the rest of our lives?”
He grabbed my hands, kissing my fingers. “Don’t act so surprised, Wife. When have I ever let you get too far from me? I can’t promise you’re not going to want to bury that blade into my gut a time or two before this is all over. But I can promise I will still chase you. There will never be a part of me that doesn’t crave you. Even in madness, you’re my only desire. In rage and fury. In weakness and wonder. You may question whether I am sane, but I am wholly yours. For a thousand lifetimes. Eternity is not going to be long enough.”
“And Quill?” I asked, skimming over his beautiful words.
“She’s just a kid, Dey. She’ll be okay. You’ll be friends again tomorrow.”
“If you think I left because of Quill, you’re wrong.” I stole the blade from him, sliding her into place on my thigh. “I just want to give you all space to grieve without the murderer sleeping under the same roof.”
“Hollis’s murderer sleeps in a four-poster bed made of iron and old money, under no roof of mine.”
“Yes, and if he knows what’s good for him, he’s going to sleep with one eye open.”
He shifted in front of me, curling a finger below my chin to force my eyes to his. “If we’re going for revenge, Nightmare, we’re going to need three shovels. One for my uncle and one for each of us because in the end, it will consume you, and then saving you will consume me. It’s a never-ending cycle of pain and suffering, and it rarely leads to true satisfaction. He wants you to come back to him. He’s likely already got a plan in place. Staying away from him is the worst thing you could do when he wants you so badly.”
“The worst thing I could do to him is force him into eternal damnation with me so every moment of his afterlife is ruined by all the ways I can find to torture him.”
I didn’t miss the way his eyes narrowed. The way they shone, even with darkness seeping from me in waves. Leaning closer, he brushed his lips over mine, his shoulders full of tension easing as if he couldn’t help himself. As if the mere contact brought him solace.
“Then I will find the shovels, and we will dig the graves.”
Chapter 47
Mere hours before the sun rose, exhaustion vibrating bone deep, we crept back into the apartment. Orin held me against the wall, every kiss, every promise leaving his lips in a husband’s creed. But when I managed to open the door, a tiny child and her loyal dog lay curled together in my bed.
Orin blocked the door when I tried to walk back out. “She wouldn’t have come here if she wasn’t waiting for you.”
My heart sank. The last time she’d been taken, she’d begged me to lie with her and keep her safe. I couldn’t imagine how scared she must have felt to have come to my room, even after… Hollis.
“I’ll see you in the morning?” I whispered.
He nodded with an unmistakable look of longing, leaving me to crawl into the bed beside Quill as slowly as I could, though Boo still perked his little head up, ears long enough to remain on the blankets.
Quill peeked a sleepy eye open and said, “You weren’t here.”
“I wasn’t far, Quilly. I promise.”
“I’m sorry I got mad at you. I’m still sad, though.”
Tucking a wild brown curl behind her ear, I whispered, “I’m sad, too.”
“You had to do it?”
I lay for several minutes, tracing lazy circles into Boo’s patch of white fur as I considered an age-appropriate response. I didn’t think it would do Quill any favors to shelter her from this twisted world, but equally, she needed to be able to close her eyes at night.
“There was a choice. Either what happened, or I would have to do everything the Maestro says for the rest of my life. Anyone he got mad at or if he wanted to put on a show, I would have to kill them, just because he said so. He would have been able to give me any name tomorrow and I wouldn’t have been able to stop it. And then your family would have remained under contract with him. And now they’re free.”
She cupped her little hand over my cheek, eyes falling heavy as she whispered, “Our family.”
We stood at the foot of the fresh grave, the damp earth beneath my boots sending a shiver up my spine. Orin remained at my side, one hand tightly gripping mine, the other holding Quill’s, a silent pillar of strength in the midst of shared sorrow. Elowen held a bouquet of dark lilies, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.
The chilly morning had cast a shroud of fog over the graveyard, and the city lay in slumber, as if mourning alongside us. With Althea and Paesha planted directly across from us, something here felt like peace, even if it was truly torture to speak our final goodbyes.
I’d perched on a rooftop near Tolliver’s Pointe and watched the funerals of my victims more times than I could count. But I’d never truly understood the raw pain and heartbreak until this morning, when we’d walked away with absolutely nothing beyond the finality of Hollis’s life and the simple pocket watch Orin had tucked into his own coat.
