Chapter 43 Rui
Rui
An herbal scent lingered in the infirmary, but it didn’t cover the stronger smell of regularly sanitized floors. It reminded
Rui too much of waiting outside doors, of a flurry of strangers in white coats telling her there was nothing else they could
do.
She threw an irritated look at Zizi, unconsciously tracing the planes of his face where moonlight skimmed it. His hair had
grown longer, wilder. She wanted to run her hands through it; she wanted to throttle him. She didn’t want to be near him;
she hated his absence even more.
Rui moved farther from him, hoping the distance would quell the turmoil inside her.
As if feeling the same way, Zizi edged to the wall. Hands in his pockets, he stared out of the window stiffly.
Shaking her head at them, Surin said, “Considering what’s going on, we think this is the best place for Zizi. Like Ash said,
we might be needing the infirmary beds soon. A powerful healer will be useful here.”
“Is it the Hybrids?” Rui asked. “Are they the ones causing trouble?”
Surin nodded. “It’s clear they’ve been organizing.” She sighed, rubbing the short blond hairs on her buzzed head. “There’ve
been reports of other creatures as well.”
“What other creatures?”
“Things that have been touched by too much yinqi,” Zizi replied, still facing the window. He didn’t elaborate.
Rui shivered as a chilly silence fell on the room. What other vile creatures were out there?
“Everything looks good here,” Surin said. “The infirmary’s well-stocked, so there isn’t much we need to do right now. You’ll
both be on call. Go get some rest tonight. I’ll check in with you tomorrow.”
After switching the lights off on her way out, Surin headed down the hallway.
Rui hurried after her. “Surin!”
The Captain halted.
“Has he been okay?”
“Zizi?” Surin gave her a look. “Why don’t you ask him yourself? I don’t know what’s going on with you two, but I know he’s
happy to see you. I thought you’d be happy to see him.”
“I’m glad I can be of service to the Guild,” Rui said, keeping her expression blank.
She marched back into the darkened infirmary. Zizi was still standing by the window.
“Your hands.”
Resolutely keeping them in his pockets, Zizi said, “What about them?”
Rui grabbed his wrist. She pushed his sleeve back and sucked in a sharp breath.
The black markings raced up his forearm, reminiscent of veins or tattoos. If this went on, they’d be full sleeves soon.
“It’s gotten worse,” she said.
Zizi snatched his hand back.
“Did your grandmother figure out what’s wrong?”
“Haven’t spoken to her.”
“Why not?”
“Been busy. Lots of Revenants and their buddies running around these days, in case you haven’t heard.”
Rui glimpsed a shadow of his teasing smile, and she was struck by how much she missed his annoying face.
“Besides, I defected. I can’t face her,” Zizi said, dark brows meeting again in an angry line.
Giving up all pretense of a civil conversation, Rui backed him against the wall until there were only inches between them.
“Why are you helping the Guild? You hate them.”
“It’s part of the deal, remember?” he said, sounding tired. His clothes seemed to hang looser on his frame.
“Nobody told you to make any deal,” she said. “No one made you confess that day; no one asked you to protect them.”
“No one wants your opinion.” Zizi was still refusing to look at her.
“You’ve been using too much of your spiritual energy, haven’t you?” Rui said. “It’s making those things on your hands worse.
They’re working you too hard; they’re exploiting you. I’m going to talk to Ash about this.”
She turned to go, but Zizi caught her arm and whirled her around.
“Do I have to spell everything out? It’s because of you.”
He was facing her now, eyes blazing. Rui didn’t understand the look on his face.
Because of you.
He was mad at her for putting him in this position. By working with the Guild, he was going against his principles, betraying
his friends. He was right to be mad. It was because of her. Rui was too cowardly to reveal she’d lost her magic. Instead, she forced everyone to lie for her. She had
put other people at risk: first Yiran, then Zizi when she took the chance to kill Aloysius. She’d gambled with their lives,
weighed them less worthy than her own desires.
She backed away from him. “I know it’s my fault. This all started because I cast the separation spell on myself. I shouldn’t
have dragged you down with me.”
“That’s not what I meant at all. I never said it was your fault—it’s not.” Zizi closed the distance between them. “The Guild
has resources, ancient magical texts, rare ingredients—working for them means I’ve some access to all of that. I’ve been researching,
trying to re-create the separation spell in a different way so I can reverse it without causing any harm to you.”
Relief washed over her. He sounded like his normal self, the one without the cold walls around him. He wasn’t angry at her,
but still, she didn’t want him to risk more than he already had.
“Does the Guild know you’re doing this?” she asked.
“No. I let them believe it was impossible to re-create the exact spell. That’s probably true, but there might be another way to go around it. I just have to find it.”
“What if you get caught?”
“I’ve been discreet,” Zizi said. “But Ash might suspect I’m doing something. That man has an uncanny way of sensing things.”
“If Ash thought you were doing something suspicious, he would stop you.”
“You fail to understand what kind of person Song Lan Xi is.”
“But all this is affecting your spiritual energy, making you sick, making those black veins worse. You need to stop,” she
said. “It’s not worth it—I’m not worth it.”
Zizi shook his head at her. “The Rui I know wouldn’t say that. She wouldn’t give up. What happened?”
What happened? Rui wanted to scream. Everything unraveled with the loss of her magic. For so long, it’d been her compass. Now she was caught
between two crumbling worlds and trying not to drown in an ocean of secrets and lies.
That was what happened. All the times she had to stand and watch when Yiran channeled magic, knowing that he was using hers.
He always looked so proud of himself. So happy.
She didn’t want to take that away from him, but she wished, each time she wished it would be the last and he could never use it again. That was what happened.
Frustration welled up in her. But the words stayed stuck in her throat, and she found herself on the verge of tears.
“I know what magic means to you, Rui,” Zizi said softly. “Not having it makes you unhappy, and I don’t like it when you’re
unhappy. I told you I would fix it. I’m keeping my promise.”
“Many things make me unhappy. The world makes me unhappy, Zizi. You can’t fight everything and everyone for me,” she rambled. “And you can’t . . . you can’t always
be the one who saves me. I have to—”
Her breath caught, her thoughts floating away.
Zizi was cradling her face in his hands, gently wiping her tears.
“That’s the difference between you and me, Rui,” he said, voice rough.
“You want to save the world and the innumerable fools in it, whether they deserve a chance or not. But I—I would give up this entire world for a single breath to leave your lips again. And I don’t need you to feel the same way about
me to do it. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
All the times he had tried to reach out and she held back. All the times he’d asked her to stay and she pretended not to hear.
All the times he looked at her and she turned the other way when she knew.
She knew.
He repeated, “Do you understand? You don’t have to be afraid; I’m here.”
She stared into his pale blue eyes. She didn’t want to pretend anymore.
I don’t need you to feel the same way about me.
But she did.
“I understand,” she said, brushing her fingers across his lips. “Can I?”
“Always.” He smiled and dipped his head.
Rui stood on her toes, arms wrapping around his neck, threading her fingers through his hair—and kissed him.
She had thought kissing him would be familiar, like returning home after a long absence. But it was that—and more. It was
being one with the world, and the world was just the two of them, and they were one, the missing pieces of one soul filled by the other.
It was magic.
A low sound rumbled at the back of Zizi’s throat as her teeth found his lips and her hands smoothed over the soft fabric of
his sweater and the hard muscle under it. She pushed the Exorcist coat off his shoulders. She wanted him without his shackles.
Just him. Only him. Always him.
At first, Zizi was hesitant, respectful, his movements asking, not demanding—until he realized she wasn’t going to be gentle with him.
He matched her need with his own, as if suddenly set free.
A vague thought about how anyone might walk in on them surfaced in Rui’s mind, but Zizi’s mouth and hands proved too distracting for reason.
Somehow, when they drew apart, Rui found herself sitting on the nearest bed with Zizi kneeling in front of her.
He was looking slightly dazed. “Wow, did you . . . did you feel that? I can’t believe we waited so long—”
“Shhh,” she murmured. Sadness flickered in her chest. He was right; they had lost so much time. She shrugged off her jacket
and reached for him again, fingertips grazing his kiss-swollen lips, deciding she wanted to ruin them just a little more.
As if he knew what she was thinking, Zizi grinned, face a little feral, teeth a little too sharp.
“To hell with fate,” she said, and yanked him close.
Their next kiss was like sparring: anticipating an opponent’s next move, shifting into a better position, surprising them
with a feint—testing their resolve. Rui discovered that Zizi was very, very good at sparring.
She didn’t know how much time had passed before he finally pulled back. His cheeks were flushed, and she lost herself in the
pale fire of his eyes.
“What?” Rui whispered, suddenly shy.
“I like looking at beautiful things.”
She made a small noise of complaint and tugged at his clothes. “So do I,” she said, her eyes sweeping over his bare skin as
he pulled his sweater and tank top off.
Moonlight shone through the windows, illuminating his cheekbones, his chest, the hard lines of his body. Still kneeling before
her, Zizi tensed at her touch, his gaze growing hungrier as her fingers followed the tattoo just inches below his left collarbone,
above his heart, the tattoo she had been longing to see.
Two butterflies.
Their loveliness contrasted with the many wicked scars on his chest and arms from Aloysius’s blades. Rui felt a sudden spiteful
pleasure for killing the monster.
The blue fire she’d driven into Zizi left the barest trace of a burn. The skin around the area was unblemished, except for a thin ridge of skin, about two inches long, where she had stabbed him with her sword.
“I’m sorry I hurt you,” she whispered. She felt his breath catching as she leaned in and touched her lips to the scar.
Zizi was looking at her like he was memorizing every detail for one of his charcoal sketches. Rui wondered who he saw, if
he recognized the angry, frightened girl who spoke only with her blades.
“I’ve missed you,” he said.
“It’s only been a few weeks—”
“But it felt like years. I was a man in the desert dying of thirst; only your presence could quench my—”
Seized by laughter, Rui buried her face into his neck. She felt him shiver as her breath tickled his skin. “How do you even
come up with such lines?”
“I enjoy the occasional romance novel. Something about the way they’re written, so compelling and—”
The next word stayed in his throat as Rui clapped her hand over his mouth. His lips were so soft. She wanted them on her.
“Shut up and kiss me again.”
Zizi laughed. “Bossy.”
He placed a hand on her cheek, and she leaned into his touch, brushing her mouth against the edge of his palm. Suddenly his
lips were claiming hers again, more demanding than before. She matched his urgency, sensed his desperation, felt his need
to be with her.
Rui’s lungs were heaving. The ache, the want was too strong. She yanked her top off.
Zizi hesitated. His pupils were blown wide, his irises just a rim of blue. “Are you sure?”
She nodded, blushing furiously.
Whispering her name with a reverence that made her gasp, he trailed kisses from her bare shoulder across her collarbone, lips lingering on skin. A jolt of pleasure shot through her, and when he skimmed the sensitive part of her throat—
Her veins—something was moving in her veins.
Rui shot up, gasping for breath.
“Rui? What’s wrong?”
She heard the panic and worry in Zizi’s voice.
“I . . . I don’t feel—” She couldn’t complete her sentence.
She was drowning. She was ice but on fire. The room spun. Her vision blurred and came into focus and blurred again. Darkness
fell.
She was alone.
Lost.
She heard Zizi’s voice from a distance. Muffled and echoey. He was swearing, asking her questions she didn’t understand.
“Rui.”
Surfacing, she blinked hard. Moonlight flashed. The world zoomed back into focus.
Zizi’s face was white. “Dammit, Rui! Breathe.”
She sucked in. Choked on air.
He squeezed her shoulders, the pressure grounding her. “Listen to my voice; stay with me.”
He counted, slow and steady. Rui forced herself to listen to his voice, to breathe. When her chest finally loosened, she followed
his gaze down to her hands and understood why he had that look on his face.
Blue flames danced across her fingers, glowing in the dim room, like prayer candles for the dead.