jinn 03 - vestige (6 page)

“Demons. Four of them. I killed three of them, but the fourth got away.”

He leaned forward, his voice very quiet and measured. “Why did you fight them at all?” Flames sparked in his eyes. “You could have transported away. You could have called me. Instead, you once again risked your life and wasted my time. Why?”

I snapped my mouth closed and my stomach sank. He was barely controlling his rage, I could see that now. His words should have infuriated me, but I didn’t have energy to fight back. “I’m sorry.”

“Why?” he repeated.

“I didn’t want to bother you.”

He blinked several times. “What?” Disgust curled his lip.

“You have enough going on, and I should have been able to handle it.”

“Obviously you couldn’t,” he snapped. “You couldn’t handle the angel. You can’t handle demons, and yet you refuse to ask for help. How many lives do we have to lose until you recognize your limitations?”

I sucked in a breath, feeling very much like he hit me. “I’m sorry,” I said again because there was nothing else left to say. He hated me. Anger blossomed in my chest fighting with the guilt that lived there. If he already hated me, then I had nothing left to lose.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly, making rage explode inside of me.

Why was she so fragile? I stood. I had to leave. I wasn’t going to sit here and yell at her; she was on the verge of tears and I didn’t have time for that. She wouldn’t fight back. She would just look at me with those big eyes and take everything I said, getting grayer and more sallow with each word.

“I’m sorry, Holden,” she repeated before I made it out of the room. “It’s my fault. All my fault. I know that. I’m sorry my mother and Baker died. Do you honestly think I don’t wish I’d died in their place? I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when you needed me. I’m sorry that apologizing can’t make up for what I’ve done. I’m sorry I couldn’t do better…” She caught her bottom lip between her teeth, then her mouth settled into a firm line. “But most of all I’m sorry I disappointed you. I don’t know what to say or do next. Should I leave? Should I stay? Just tell me what you want because we can’t keep doing this.
I
can’t keep doing this.”

Her watery voice clenched my heart, but I scoffed, my anger so much stronger than any softer emotions I felt. “I’m sorry you’re so weak.”

Her breath caught and I immediately regretted the words, but I couldn’t talk to her right now. The jinni part of me fed on weakness and anger and tears and sadness. That part of me, so much stronger now, smelled blood and wanted to strike. I started toward the door, and a picture frame shattered on the wall inches from my head.

I looked at the picture of us, taken long ago, lying at my feet, covered in broken glass. Crushing it underfoot and continuing away was tempting, but my feet wouldn’t budge. I reached down and plucked the picture out of the broken frame, shaking off the glass.

The words that would hurt her most, the killing blow, rested on the tip of my tongue. She was foolish to have ever given her heart to me. If she was sorry for anything it should have been that. All I had to do was say the words that would destroy her and it would all be over: I’m sorry that I ever met you. True or not, she wouldn’t stay. How could she?

I looked at the picture. I had kept it so long, kept it even when it was foolish to hope. It was everything I wanted and everything I repeatedly failed to hold onto.

“Don’t you dare walk away from me,” she said. This time her voice wasn’t soft or watery. It was hard and angry. “I’m so tired, Holden. Exhausted, actually, trying to figure out what you want. Just talk to me.”

I turned around. Light poured from her wounds, but she stood erect, her shoulders squared and fists clenched, ready for a fight. “Do you want to know what I’m really sorry for,
Liv
?”

Her jaw hardened and she shook her head, but said, “Tell me.”

The corner of my mouth lifted. I knew somewhere deep inside that what I was about to do was wrong. Words once said could never be taken back. No matter what happened they would always be in the back of her mind, taunting her, feeding any doubts. However, it was too late. I couldn’t stop myself. “I wish I never met you.” The words came out cold and measured.

She didn’t react right away, then she nodded. “What else?” She took a step toward me. “That can’t be all. You can do better than that. Tell me what you really think. Let me have it. I can take it.”

There were no tears. No expression at all on her battered face or behind her hollow eyes. She seemed to dare me, like she wanted to be hurt.

“I wish we hadn’t killed the angel. At least she was useful—and could take care of herself. I wish I walked away.” I moved forward as I spoke, flames licking at my skin. “I wish I didn’t have to listen to you whine, and that I wasn’t so bored every time you speak. I wish you were prettier and smarter, so I would find you less tedious.” I searched for the right button, the one that would make her react. I was close enough to touch her now. I leaned in and whispered in her ear. “I wish I chose Juliet.”

She flinched, but still her head nodded. “Is that all you have?” she said, though her voice broke, betraying her.

Bingo.

“You have done nothing, but hold me back since the day I met you. You have been nothing but a curse on my life.”

She looked up and lifted her trembling hands. I waited for her to slap me—I wanted her to—but she just kept nodding. Then she pushed through the flames and clasped my face in her hands. Her touch was ice cold, her fingers weak and boney. And those blue eyes of hers, haloed in gold, met mine without a trace of anger. “Thank you.” Her voice was quiet and broken. “No matter what happens, know that I always loved you. And always will.”

Was this goodbye? Was this really how we were going to end?

Her lips pressed against my face, and then her eyes rolled back in her head and she collapsed onto the floor. The light grew bolder and brighter around her, and she dimmed further and further from my mind. Every ounce of anger drained out of me. This wasn’t a fight. We weren’t just breaking up. She was dying. I sank to the floor next to her and lifted her limp arm.

“Quintus,” I shouted with my mouth, mind, and heart, but nothing happened. He didn’t come. Her body was fading. I transported to the door and stepped outside, calling for him again, then went back to her. She was even worse, so faint that she was almost not there at all.

Seconds later Quintus ran in. “Has she declined further?” he asked, before he saw her. His tan face blanched and he dropped to his knees next to her. “Why didn’t you call me sooner?” he said as he lifted her wrist, but he wasn’t talking to me. He was talking to her.

Waves of light pumped into her until she took form again, both in my mind and on the ground. Her eyelids fluttered against her cheeks. Her chest rose and fell with ragged breath. Quintus picked her up and carried her to the bedroom, holding her close. Jealousy and regret filled the emptiness where the anger had been. It was my nature to destroy everything good that I touched. Maybe fighting it was futile.

Quintus’s face was grim when he came back out. “She needs rest,” was all he said as he tried to move past me.

“What the fuck was that?” I asked. Quintus hadn’t been surprised when he saw her and he knew exactly what to do. “What happened? She’s still a guardian, right? She can’t possibly be this weak.”

He shook his head. “You should talk to her about it.”

“I’m talking to you. What. Happened?”

He shook his head. “I told her she should tell you.”

“Tell me what?” I was seconds from beating it out of him.

He put a hand on my shoulder. “She’s dying, Holden. Killing the angel is killing her. The wound won’t heal. They were halves of the same whole.”

My entire body and mind went still. I looked toward the room where she slept for the first time since we killed the angel. Since that day she hadn’t eaten or slept. I blinked. I should’ve realized. . . . And she wouldn’t fight with me. She was so tired all the time. She’d
known
she was dying, and I had . . . I swallowed a couple times. What had I done? Her last words to me were that she loved me, but mine to her were so far from that. “Will she wake up? She has to wake up, right?”

“I hope so.”

‘I hope so,’ what kind of fucking answer was that? This couldn’t be it. This couldn’t be how we ended after everything we had been through. What was the point of it all?

“Come away from the door,” he said, pulling at me. I brushed off his hand. Olivia was dying and didn’t even bother to tell me. “She needs rest. We can talk in the living room.”

I followed him back to the front room, and watched him take in the aftermath of our fight and the ruined picture of us . . . “How long have you known?”

“I found out this morning,” he said. “She didn’t tell me either. I figured it out.” He raised his eyebrows. “You’ve been living with her, and the two of you are connected. How is it that you didn’t figure it out? How did you miss this?”

I scrubbed my hands over my face. Because I had been a dick. Because I wasn’t paying attention to anyone but myself. Because I blamed her and part of me was glad she was suffering. I sat on the couch. “How long can you keep her alive?”

“Why? So you can continue to torture her? She won’t talk about it, but I see what happened. She’ll let you treat her terribly because she loves you and she believes you when you make her feel like this is all her fault. But you aren’t the only one who loves her. I love her too, and I won’t let you keep hurting her. It would be more merciful to let her go than to leave her with you.” His voice grew progressively louder as he spoke and his hand balled into a fist.

Femi and Corbin took that moment to burst back into the warehouse, the kid trailing behind them, holding a bunch of pink shopping bags. “What’s with all the shouting?”

“Olivia is dying and Holden couldn’t bring himself to care,” Quintus ground out.

I glared at him.

“Wait, wait, wait. Hold the frakkin phone. She’s dying? I mean she looked a little rough after her fight with the demons, but I didn’t think . . . What did they do to her? How do we fix it?” she asked.

I knew how Femi felt. The reality of Quintus’s words still weren’t sinking in. Liv couldn’t be dying.

“It’s my fault, Quintus. Not his.” Olivia’s voice came from behind me and my heart beat again. She walked by me and hugged him tight. “But thank you for defending me.”

“You should be resting,” he told her.

She touched his arm and something passed between them in the look she gave him. I seethed, knowing even as I did that I had no right. She took a step back. “Holden and I have a lot to talk about. Thank you guys for caring, but could we have some privacy?”

An array of emotions streamed by me, some his, some hers, some mine. Quintus finally dipped his head in acknowledgement, but not before shooting me a look that I completely deserved. The vampire headed to the kitchen without saying a word, the kid scooted off to the room she slept in, but Femi stayed rooted to the floor, watching us—and looking more pissed off by the nanosecond.

Olivia lowered herself slowly into a chair as if the movement hurt her. “Femi, please.”

“No,” Femi said. “I have a say in this. It isn’t just about the two of you now. It’s about all of us.”

Olivia took a deep breath. “You’re right. I’m sorry. Go ahead.”

Femi stalked around the room. “I’m only going to say this once, so you both better listen. I don’t know what’s going on between the two of you, and I’ve tried my hardest to do what Baker would do and stay out of it, but I can’t any longer. He would hate this. He gave his life because he believed in you two, thought you could change the world. It never even crossed his mind that you would give up on each other.” She looked directly at me. “This isn’t her fault, Holden. You were there. You know that. She told you to take care of us and let her go. You made your choices, and you can’t blame her for them.”

She glared at Olivia. “And how dare you give up so easily, after we fought so hard to get you back? Who cares what this dimwit Holden thinks? You’re better than that.
Stronger
than that. You might love him, but you don’t need him to live. The Olivia I know would fight for her life. She would take the gift her friend gave her and save herself, so she could make the world a better place. That’s what you do. Have you forgotten? I’m ashamed of both of you.”