Chapter 62
SIXTY-TWO
H er words ring in my ear, the implication too surreal to grasp. No. Ze would never do that. He's not like that. Yet no matter how much I try to convince myself, the doubts keep clamoring inside my mind. I clutch the silver mirror in my hands, the temptation too strong.
What if this is a trap? If this is a way for her to turn me against Ze? She admitted to having a grudge against him.
But that is exactly why I'm having doubts...
She told me exactly who she is and why she hates Ze. She didn't lie about that. So that begs the question...is the mirror a lie? Or is it as she said...the truth?
There's one way to find out, I suppose.
Three questions. I must choose them carefully.
I take a deep breath. Before I can second-guess my decision, I gaze down at the mirror. Anami didn't say how to use it, but I guess just asking the question will do.
Biting my lip, I rehearse the question in my mind once before I utter it aloud.
"Show me how Nikki got his leg injured." Although this means I will waste a question, at least I'll know better whether to trust the mirror or not since I was there.
The reflective surface of the mirror is replaced by a screen featuring a video of the past.
We're walking hand in hand on the streets of Florence when a car skids to a halt next to us. The windows are lowered to reveal three guns aimed at us. Nikki's reaction is delayed as he pulls me behind him. The bullets start flying. He pushes me to the ground, rolling with me as he blankets my body with his. One of the bullets hits the back of his knee. The car then drives away.
The image fades.
Short and to the point. It's an objective representation of the past, but one devoid of emotion and depth. It couldn't capture the way Nikki tried to calm me down even as he was bleeding and freaking out himself. It couldn't replay the kind words he whispered in my ear or the warmth of his embrace as he held on to me.
He was the one who got hurt, but I was the one comforted. How was that fair?
A sob lodges in my throat as my own memory of the event surfaces in my mind.
Bar the nuances that the mirror could not capture, everything else is accurate.
And that is my proof that the mirror works. It is not biased either. It only shows what happened, not how, or why. It's as if someone filmed the incident but omitted the script.
Now that I know it can be trusted, I need only to formulate my second question.
I close my eyes, inhaling and exhaling as I speak my next question.
"Show me what happened when Nikki died," I murmur. My voice doesn't feel like my own. Hell, my own body doesn't feel like my own.
It's almost as if I'm in a bad dream that I can't wake up from.
My limbs tremble as I hold the mirror close, silently begging it to show me something different than what Anami suggested.
Ze couldn't have possibly had anything to do with Nikki's death. He didn't know me then—he didn't know us. Why would a powerful god get involved with humans? More than anything, is he even allowed to harm humans? From what I remember, he can only kill with express consent from the Supremes.
I stop short as I realize how many excuses I'm making for him. Yet just entertaining the thought that he could have hurt Nikki makes me lightheaded, a vise squeezing my heart in my chest and making it bleed.
I care about him. He's my friend. He cares about me too. He's shown it numerous times.
God! Why am I even doubting him? I got to know him well over the last few months, and I don't believe he'd be capable of this. Anami was just trying to mess with my mind. The mere fact that I'm interrogating the mirror about that seems like a betrayal of trust.
Yet just as I'm about to throw the mirror away, the image shifts.
There's a fire burning in the background as two young people embrace each other on the pavement.
Me and Nikki.
The car had already exploded, one part of it hitting me in the back of my head and causing me to pass out. Even with no agency, my body is next to Nikki's, holding on to him and shielding him as best as I can. There's charred debris all around us, surrounding us like a cocoon, but one that seeks to harm not protect.
We're both bloodied. The ground around us is stained with red.
So much fucking blood.
Immediately, my arms go slack, the memories of that day too powerful. They immobilize me as tears stab at the corners of my eyes.
God, I don't even want to see this, for it means reliving the worst moment of my entire life.
But the image zooms out.
The glint of a sword is the next thing I make out—but it's a sword I'm familiar with. Down the middle ridge, black blood pours from its owner, dripping down the groove and onto the ground.
The image zooms out more.
There he is.
Dressed in his typical black, a contrast to the white of the sword. His eyes are as they were before—black and unfeeling. And his tattoos...they're moving somehow, shifting on his face as if they had a life of their own.
He's just standing there, his expression cold. He's staring into the distance, ignoring the people behind him. Slowly, he blinks.
In the next second, he's gone.
What...
I inhale sharply as I feel a panic attack about to sink its claws into me.
What was he doing there? Why was he at the scene of the accident?
My knees hit the hard ground. There's suddenly a dearth of air. I gasp and gasp in an attempt to fill my lungs with oxygen, but it's all in vain.
Was Anami right? Did Ze have anything to do with our accident?
Somehow, I refuse to believe this.
Come on, Luce! Think about it logically! Anami also mentioned that his sword can obliterate a soul. It's not the case with Nikki since he's been by my side all along—from the moment I woke up in the hospital. He's still with me, so Ze can't have killed him...right?
Unless... No. It cannot be. He wouldn't betray me in such a way.
With trembling hands, I turn the mirror toward me once more.
The third question. The one that can confirm or deny everything.
"Show me the identity of the man I was with in my room on the day I arrived in Aperion."
The image changes to my room at Thea's house. The door to the bathroom opens and I come out, naked. Particles of dust materialize in front of me and my heart lurches in my chest.
My breathing intensifies just as the shimmery black smoke takes the form of a man.
A sigh of relief escapes me. It's him. Nikki. It's his ghost.
Anami lied.
I don't know if my heart could have taken it should it have not been my husband.
The scene continues as he caresses me, the sight odd from an outsider's point of view.
But just as I'm about to put the mirror aside, the black smoke changes again. From a mass of chaotic particles, they turn opaque, gaining life-like features.
"No," I whisper.
A fissure appears in my heart the moment I see his face.
His body.
His touch.
He...
The mirror falls from my hands, a sharp noise penetrating the air as the glass shatters.
It was him. With me. Touching me. Inside me.
My God, I think I'm going to be sick!
I stumble to my feet, numb and disoriented. I sway from side to side, using my hands to prop myself on the wall as I make my way back inside the ballroom.
The image I just saw will be forever burned on my retina.
Ze. My friend. Lying to me and touching me as I have never given him permission to.
He...
A sob racks my body as I trip over one of the refreshment tables. The blunt edge hits me in the stomach, stealing my breath from me. Tears course down my cheeks as I grasp onto the table for support, breathing hard.
Nikki was never real, was he? From the beginning, this was a giant farce.
He's dead.
My husband is dead. He's...
No!
"No!" I cry out. No one hears me, though.
A round of applause erupts in the air. I turn slowly, watching as Wyn addresses the guests, lifting her glass in the air for a toast. I can't make out what she says, though. It's all foreign at this point.
She tips the glass, taking a big sip while everyone does the same.
I wish I could drown myself in anything that might take away this grief that's tearing me from the inside out. Worse than the first time I found out Nikki was dead, this time it's not just his death I mourn but also hope.
This is the end.
I catch sight of a row of bottles and, grabbing one, I down it in one go. The alcohol burns as it travels down my throat. I choke and wheeze, but I don't give up.
Make it go away, please.
One bottle down, more to go. I grab another.
Maybe in my attempt to drown my sorrows, I'll actually drown. But if I do, I don't want to go to the House of Psyche. I want Ze to cut me in two with his sword too so I can join my beloved in oblivion.
Together, we were everything.
Alone, I am nothing. So to nothing I shall return.
A loud thud reverberates in the air. Gasps erupt in the crowd, as well as a sharp, grief-ridden cry. And it's not coming from me.
Bottle in hand, I push my way through the throng of people, coming to a halt as I reach the source of the noise.
Wyn is on the floor, dark blood coming out of her mouth. Her eyes are blank, unmoving. Thea is by her side, crying out as she shakes her.
"She's dead! She can't be dead!"
Chaos ensues.
TO BE CONTINUED
For more books in the same world, check out Barbi and the Villain and House of Cryos Trilogy .