Chapter 20
Finn was sitting at the kitchen table when she returned, his hair disheveled as if he’d done nothing but run his fingers through it since she’d left. Hmm, or maybe not. Resting on his place mat was a small bunch of flowers, freshly picked, from the garden out front, she figured. Bluebells.
Despite the tightness in her chest, the conversation with Belphegor weighing heavily on her, she cracked a smile. “What’s this?”
He gestured for her to sit. Once she had, he cleared his throat like he was gearing up to give her a lengthier answer than I saw these and thought of you.
“I never told you why I gave you the bluebells the day we met,” he started. “Not that I got the chance to give them to you, what with you throwing up all over my best boots.”
“Those were not your best boots.”
“No.” Finn smiled crookedly at her. “You’re right. They weren’t.”
“Fairy flowers,” she said, reaching across the table and plucking the posy off the place mat. “You know, they say if you pick a bluebell, you’ll be led astray by the fae folk and wander lost for the rest of your days.” She frowned. “Maybe you ought to stop picking these.”
“I’m choosing to think that was a coincidence,” he said.
“Because of the flowers’ bowed heads, they’re regarded as a symbol of humility and gratitude, and because they return faithfully each spring, they also represent loyalty, constancy, and everlasting love.
One tale says if you wear a wreath of bluebells around your throat, you’ll be compelled to speak the truth, and another says if you find the first bluebell in spring and make a selfless wish, the Sleagh Maith might grant it, rewarding you for your generous spirit.
“I brought you bluebells because I wanted you to know that the pledge I was about to make you was true. I couldn’t yet promise you everlasting love, but I could promise to be honest and faithful, and I wanted you to know you had my deepest gratitude.
That I understood no one had given you a choice in marrying me, but that I would strive to be a man you would be proud to call your husband. ”
He’d never explained the bluebells, but he had expressed a similar hope, making her those same promises that first night when he’d visited her before they’d married.
“Why are you giving them to me now?” she asked, rubbing one of the velvety petals between her thumb and forefinger.
Finn sat back, his gaze searching hers. “Because you have a choice, a real one this time, and I’m not as selfless as I was then. I know what it is to love you, to be loved by you, to lose you. I won’t do it again. I’m asking you to choose me, not that—that crìochnaich fhaighean.”
Choose him, and not that— Did he think she left before to— “Finn, no, that’s not even—”
“I’ll be so good to you,” he swore, eyes flashing as he stood and rounded the table, dropping to his knees beside her and taking both her hands in his.
“Whatever happens to me, wherever you go, whether we’re together or apart, I swear to you, I will love you with every breath I take, be it in this body or the next or the one after that.
Because you’re not just the love of my life, Effie, you’re the love of all of them.
” He turned her hand over and pressed a kiss to her palm. “I’m yours, mo ghaol. Have me.”
Her heart battered against her ribs as if it could hurl itself at him. “Finn, I broke up with Belphegor. That’s why I left. To end our engagement.”
It took a moment for the words to sink in, and when they did, a smile stole over his face. He leaned up to kiss her, but she stopped him, one hand pressed flat against his chest. His face fell and she hated it, she did, but—
“We can’t.”
He frowned. “Can’t what?”
“We can’t be together.”
His eyes narrowed. “Why not?”
“Why not?” She scoffed. “I’m a demon, Finn. In case you forgot.”
He actually rolled his eyes. “That doesn’t matter—”
“It matters.” She tugged her hands from his and crossed her arms. “I can’t stay here. I’ve already stayed longer than I should have. There’s only so long Belphegor can cover for me. If Lucifer finds out—”
“He’ll what?” Finn snorted. “What could he possibly take from us that he hasn’t robbed us of already?”
She glared at him for not taking this seriously.
There was a time to be glib, and this wasn’t it.
“He could hurt you. We’re not supposed to harm humans—they are the architects of their own destruction—but there are ways of exercising influence indirectly.
Belphegor says it seems like Lucifer has lost his mind.
He’s behaving erratically, acting even more despotic than ever before. He could kill you, Finn.”
He stood, crossed his arms to match hers, and shrugged. Shrugged. She’d just told him that Lucifer could kill him and he’d shrugged. Unbelievable. “Dying doesn’t scare me. I’ve done it before. I’ll do it again. God willing, many times.”
“God.” Effie scoffed out a laugh. “I don’t think God has anything to do with this mess we’re in, Finn.”
He looked thoughtful for a moment, then nodded. “You’re right. They don’t. But even if they did, I don’t answer to God, a leannan. I answer to you.”
Her throat tightened and her sinuses tingled. “I can’t see you hurt because of me.” Her voice broke. “I can’t.”
“So you’d rather not see me at all? Rather not be with me?” Finn scoffed. “Fuck that. No. Whatever harm comes to me, so be it. Dying is a risk I’m willing to take. Losing you isn’t.”
She shut her eyes. “Finn—”
“I made vows to you. Don’t ask me to break them. I pledged to be a shield for your back and you for mine.” His fingers tipped her chin up, and she opened her eyes, snared instantly by his stare. “Whatever hand fate deals us, let’s play it together.”
When he put it like that, it was difficult to argue. But not impossible.
“You have Bea to think about,” she said, and maybe it was a dirty move, using Bea to convince him he ought to care about his own well-being, but it didn’t make it any less true. “She needs you.”
“And what about what I need?” His throat bobbed. “I raised a child without you once. Don’t—” He scrubbed a hand over his mouth, his voice as rough as sandpaper. “Don’t ask me to do it again.”
The reminder of the heartache she’d put him through made her eyes grow hot and her stomach churn.
She couldn’t make her mouth work, couldn’t voice the question despite wanting the answer desperately.
“Do you want to know?” he asked. He knew her that well. “About—”
“Please,” she blurted before she could change her mind. “Tell me.”
“Màiri,” he said quietly, reaching for her hand. “I named her Màiri.”
Her heart squeezed inside her chest. Màiri. The name had a number of meanings, not the least of which was wished-for child.
“Pretty,” she murmured. “I love it.”
“She knew,” he said solemnly. “I made sure she knew how much her mother loved her.”
Her vision blurred, her eyes burning. Lucifer had forbidden her from checking on her daughter or Finn, and Effie had been too scared to disobey him.
For years she’d wondered, and maybe she could’ve looked them up in an archive somewhere, but her guilt had been too great.
Not knowing had been hard, but she’d feared knowing might have been even harder. “Thank you.”
Finn squeezed her hand. “That’s not something you ever have to thank me for.”
It took a moment for her to be able to speak. “You say that it doesn’t matter that I’m a demon. But have you thought about what that means? You’re mortal, Finn. I’m not. You’ll age. I won’t.”
“Does it bother you?” He frowned. “That I’ll get wrinkles? Go gray?”
“No.” She scoffed. As if she cared about anything as superficial as that. “That’s not…It would be a privilege to watch you grow old.” Her gaze fell to the floor. “But I won’t.”
It wasn’t fair. They were supposed to grow old together, have matching laugh lines, a shared road map of wrinkles, proof of a life well lived.
“I don’t know many men who would complain about having a hot young wife.”
She snorted. “Young-looking.”
His eyes squinted when he smiled. “And you can abracadabra yourself a few grays, can’t you?”
“Yes,” she conceded. “I suppose I can glamour myself to look however I’d like.”
“Then, what’s the problem?”
“One day you’re going to die, Finley.”
“I will.” He tucked a curl behind her ear, his smile achingly soft as his thumb stroked over the hinge of her jaw.
“But, baby, it’s not forever. Not like we are.
I’ll be waiting in the next life. You just have to come find me.
” His lips twisted to the side. “I mean, maybe give it sixteen, seventeen years—”
“Oh, stop.” She poked him in the stomach, and he chuckled. “I’ll give it twenty. At least.”
“Just don’t make me wait too long.”
For the first time since she’d brought up the topic of his mortality, he sounded a touch forlorn, reminding her that, even if he hadn’t understood it, he’d been missing her for as long as she’d missed him.
“What happens if you don’t remember? Who’s to say it’ll work the same way?”
There was no guidebook for this sort of thing. It had been a total shot in the dark, the way he’d gotten his memories back. Would their luck be so good next time?
He shrugged. “I’ll love you anyway.”
“Finn—”
“I mean it. I’d already fallen ass over teakettle in love with you before I remembered. Are you telling me it wasn’t the same for you?”
She shook her head. “I had all my memories. It’s different. And you…weren’t. Different, I mean. Not really. Small things, but in all the ways that counted?” She shrugged. “I think I’d have recognized you even if you looked completely different.”
“Would you have minded?”
“If you looked completely different?” She shook her head. “No. I mean, I’m kind of partial to the way you look, but no.”
“What if I’d been a woman?” he asked.
Effie cocked her head. “Does it work that way?”
“I’m not sure, actually.” He frowned. “I’m not an expert on reincarnation. I’ve just done it a few times. But it hasn’t worked that way for me.”
“Well, gender doesn’t matter much to me,” she said. “I’ve been with women before. But even so, I fell in love with who you are, not what you look like.”
Finn was quiet, his cheeks pink.
“That doesn’t…bother you, does it?”
“No, of course not.” He chuckled and ran his hand over his hair. “I’ve, uh…I was just going to say that I’ve slept with men. One. This life.”
The qualifier wasn’t lost on her. Finn had lived other lives. Other lives he apparently remembered.
“I want you to tell me everything.”
He smirked.
“I didn’t mean that.” She rolled her eyes. “I meant everything I missed.”
His eyes held hers, searching. “That could take a while.”
It was reckless, but she couldn’t walk away. Eventually, she would have to go back to Hell. Be seen. But as long as she carried on acting no different from how she had before, maybe this could work. Maybe she could keep this. Keep Finn.
“I guess it’s a good thing we have time.”