Chapter 10
Chapter
Ten
VALE
So… that happened.
I hadn’t been expecting to have my entire universe and the foundation on which my remaining pillars of sanity rested, to be thoroughly upended and left resting on the fragile shoulders of a man a fraction of my own age, and yet there I was.
I wasn’t certain if it was the intoxicating taste of his blood, the glimpses into his past—so painful, and yet more real than anything I’d experienced in my own life—or the way Echo had reinvented himself from the ashes of two scorched lives.
Echo was beauty in motion. A work of art as a performance piece, and yet he seemed wholly unaware of it. He was equal parts sane and unhinged, and it resonated far deeper in me than I was comfortable with.
Unlike me, however, Echo made it work. He had a life and a personality unique among the thousands of people I’d met in mine, whereas I was nothing more than a combination of programmed reactions, all stemming from one colossal mistake I’d made more than a century ago.
Why had it taken seeing the devastation of Echo’s broken lives being rebuilt from the ground up to wake me from my endless wallowing in self-pity? It couldn’t be compassion. I’d witnessed more sob stories than I could count and been unmoved by all of them.
Maybe it was something about Echo himself. His smell, his voice, the way he tasted, or perhaps the sardonic, yet amusing way he expressed himself without using words.
And if none of that was enough reason to fall helplessly into Echo’s gravity, I’d had the best sleep of my life wrapped around his warm body.
I hadn’t been expecting to have any respite from the bells until I’d destroyed them, but somehow, being so close to Echo had grounded me in such a way that the dissonance had no effect on me.
Originally, I’d been planning on taking out the bells the moment night fell.
When I participate, I win every year… with the exception of last year.
I don’t want to talk about what happened last December, so don’t ask.
All I can say is that Wraith won’t shut up about it if the topic comes up, and it’s all I can do not to remove his head from his neck and relieve us both of the burdens of life.
After yesterday’s events, I wouldn’t touch the bells if my very soul was at stake. Even without Echo’s miraculous, if unknowing, intervention, I would protect them with my life and Wraith’s.
Echo was interested in the game. He showed true enthusiasm for something other than his own death, and I wanted to foster that interest in any way I could.
I could see deep down that Echo lacked something to live for more than he desired to die.
Otherwise, he would have taken care of it on his own long ago.
The subconscious choice to rebirth himself as Echo, no matter how unusually he’d gone about it, told me that Echo wanted to live more than he wanted to die. He enjoyed courting death more than he truly wanted it, and I would see what I could do to give him a productive, safer way to do so.
As Echo and I showered together, I explained what I knew of the night’s mission.
Gareth hadn’t needed to explain it to me because I already knew what the plan was.
It mostly involved killing assholes who needed to be killed, and rescuing anyone they hadn’t sacrificed.
All we were waiting on was for Gareth to get the information he needed and to give the word.
Echo was more interested in washing my hair than he was in hearing about the mission I planned to bring him on.
I hadn’t exactly asked permission to bring a guest, but Gareth would probably allow it. He knew what Echo surviving a night with me in my home meant.
The survival rate of getting fucked by me was low. The monster was too loud, too forceful. When my self-control broke, it took over, and afterward, I had a dead body to deal with. Only Baz and Vix had been important enough to escape unscathed after having sex with me.
Nearly everyone else had been… collateral damage.
So, Gareth would likely allow me to do anything with Echo that I wanted.
I doubted anyone in the collective would try to stop me.
I’d heard them talking about me behind my back.
They all thought I was irreparably broken and would never be able to form a connection with anyone past the awkward, tentative ones I’d allowed to keep Gareth happy.
To this day, I don’t know why any of them bothered to care about me. I’d never given them a reason to. The only one of them I’d ever been genuinely nice to had been Vix, and it had been a toxic affection at best, and negligent at worst.
With Echo, it was effortless. I not only allowed him to wash my hair as we spoke, but I also enjoyed it. The gentle way he worshipped my waist-length hair made my eyelids heavy, and I was at peace in a way I didn’t know was possible for me.
“Why do you keep it so long?” Echo asked as he combed his fingers through my hair to work out the conditioner.
“I can’t cut it,” I answered. I didn’t answer questions about myself if at all possible, but Echo was welcome to anything of mine he wanted, including my past.
When Echo gave me a curious look, I couldn’t help but elaborate. “I’ve never been a particularly social person, even as a human. I was born into a prominent upper-class British family that was deeply entrenched in society.
“I hated every part of it, though my mother and father did everything they could to drag me into it. Men’s fashion had begun to trend toward shorter hair, and I, being the rebellious asshole I was, kept mine long out of spite.
When I was cursed, it froze my body in time, and now, even if I cut my hair, it grows back instantly.
If I could go back in time, I would have chosen opium as a way to act out.
There would have been fewer long-term repercussions for me, and my family would have been far more scandalized. ”
“Well, I love it,” Echo said, draping my hair over my shoulder and smoothing it down over my pecs. “So… you’re really old, huh?”
I sputtered as I choked down some water. “Old?”
“Long hair for men has been in and out of fashion for centuries and throughout many cultures. Which century are you from, Mister I’m Not a Vampire, and I casually drop mysterious words like curse without explaining them?
I’d clock you at some time during the eighteen hundreds from your vibe, but I feel like you could be as far back as the seventeen hundreds.
Though the opium comment makes me think it’s more likely you were a teen in the latter half of the eighteen hundreds… ”
I bit my lip, greedily taking in Echo’s clever musing. He was everything I wanted but didn’t know to ask for.
“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” Echo continued, twining a strand of my hair around his pinky finger. “Everyone has secrets they want to keep.”
“I don’t mind telling you about myself, but we don’t have time for me to do the story justice. Gareth will come and drag me out if I delay for too long.”
“Sounds like Gareth had issues with boundaries,” Echo muttered.
“I’ve given him good reason to do so,” I admitted grudgingly. “I’m not easy to work with.”
“And your job is to do crime?”
“An oversimplification, but more or less. Does that bother you?”
“We’ve already established that you don’t cross the puppy/child endangerment line, so I’m sure you have your reasons. Do you really want me to come with you on your mission, though? I’ll probably only get in your way.”
“Do you want to come?”
“Do I want to watch you and your friends kill a bunch of psycho serial killers hell-bent on bringing some creepy god to life?” Echo tapped his chin and pursed his lips.
“I mean, I had been planning on hyperventilating myself to sleep and overanalyzing every interaction we’ve had over the past two days to pick out every cringy word I’ve said to you, but I suppose I could schedule your mission in. ”
Outwardly, I allowed myself a small, non-committal smile, but inwardly, I was, as Baz or Vix would say, fangirling. I’d been hoping Echo was interested in me as more than a fuck or a road to a glorious death, but it was difficult to judge.
“What do you want me to do?” Echo continued talking as I wrestled my emotions under control. “I’m not sure how much help I’ll be in killing people. Even if they need killing, I’m not exactly the fighting type.”
“You don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to.”
Gareth had a rule about everyone in the collective being useful, but I doubted he’d dare to apply it to my person. Gareth couldn’t replace me and my skillset, and he knew it.
As bitchy as I was, no one could beat me at stealth, speed, poisons, or my ability to heal most injuries with my unique blend of magic and biochemistry. There was far more I could do, but Gareth either didn’t know or pretended not to because he knew I had my reasons not to use those skills.
“But,” I added, “I have a feeling you could be of help if you chose to be.”
Echo laughed and paused in the middle of applying conditioner to my hair once more.
It was unnecessary, but far be it from me to stop him from touching any part of my body.
“I’m a mental case with a specialty in dead languages and ancient burial rituals.
I’m sure I’ll be indispensable in your battle with the cultists. ”
I raised an eyebrow. “You’re Corpselover, yes?”
Echo colored and began to stammer. “I’m not… How did you… Why would you think that? I mean… who’s Corpselover?” Echo covered his face with his hands and moaned in embarrassment.
“You know exactly who he is. The trap you were setting when I found you was exactly the style that’s been terrorizing the fae community for half a decade. You’ve been slowing down all my competition for me. I should thank you for making my victories so easy.”
Echo peeked through his fingers. “You’re Deadlynightshade?”