Chapter 22 #3
He didn’t say in love, but the unsaid words affected Nicholas anyway.
He wanted to rage at Gabriel, to shout that now they’d never know.
He wanted to blame him for his life, for his lack of life.
Nicholas had given up everything he believed in for him.
He’d given up his God for Gabriel—because of Gabriel.
It was all he could do not to grip the blanket covering him, to fight back the emotional tremor threatening his limbs.
“I can’t blame you for what you did,” he lied, but even the lie held some truth.
Gabriel watched him with an unnatural stillness that had previously been overlooked, both hope and distrust in his gaze. Nicholas didn’t have to try to remain calm. He didn’t have the strength for much else.
“So… you understand?” His bloodied expression begged for understanding and forgiveness.
How was this the same man who’d threatened to kill Kyrin’s children in cold blood? How was this the same man who’d slaughtered a whole village while armed with nothing but a sword and tenacious apathy? Nicholas could still hear the screams of the innocent.
He felt strangely honored that he’d gotten to know this side of Gabriel, but was it a lie, or was it the truth of him? And were there more honest and deceitful parts of him to know? Yes, to the latter, Nicholas thought.
“Of course I understand. You lost the man you loved and would have done anything to get him back. You did do anything to get him back.”
Something about the way Nicholas had phrased his response seemed to bother Gabriel. He frowned. “You aren’t—”
“And what was in the vial you drank from?” he asked, unable to listen to Gabriel tell him he wasn’t Zayn.
“Infused barseem.”
Red clover, Nicholas somehow knew. He’d seen it outside of Muharib and Zayn’s cave.
“It thins the blood and slows down healing.”
“So that enough of it can make it into my body uninterrupted.”
“Yes. That close to death, your heart will stop. You’ll then need more than a few drops of my blood to return. A few drops won’t save you.”
“Save me.” Nicholas did his best not to come off cynical.
“There’s no other way. Your death would be permanent otherwise.”
Gabriel sounded tortured by what needed to be done, almost disgusted by it. Nicholas wanted to shout for him to stop pretending, for him to admit that this was what he’d wanted all along, to leave him with no choice, with no chance of escape.
He chose not to yell any of that, though, and not just because he physically couldn’t, but because it no longer mattered.
The dogs whimpered and scratched at the door. They’d been doing so for a while now. Nicholas forced a weak smile that he hoped Gabriel wouldn’t see through.
“Let them in.”
Gabriel did so, helping Zeke onto the bed. They were gentle with Nicholas, as though sensing how fragile he was.
They were getting so big, and Nicholas felt their love and attachment to him. He’d be abandoning them, just like his mother had abandoned him.
Mateo and Father Murphy would never hear from him again, and he hadn’t even gotten to tell Sandy not to expect him down at the shelter. His phone was nowhere in sight, but it was for the best anyway. He couldn’t bring himself to tell them goodbye.
“My friends,” he whispered, fighting off the hitch threatening his breath.
“You’ll be able to keep them in your life once you acclimate.”
“Until they realize I’m no longer aging.” His tears were drowning him from the inside, searching for a route of escape.
Gabriel’s foolish optimism was now eclipsed by grief, as though he understood all that Nicholas would have to sacrifice because of him.
“There are ways around it,” he said, the words carrying no weight.
It was time. Nicholas couldn’t take this any longer.
“I’m thirsty. Can you get me a glass of water?”
“Nicholas—”
“Please. I’ll be fine until you get back.”
Gabriel angled his head as if listening to Nicholas’s heart, as if he could tell the exact number of beats it had left.
“I’ll be right back.”
Nicholas held his fraudulent smile until Gabriel cleared the doorway, then silently unleashed his tears.
Maxim nudged his hand while Ezekiel and Malachi whined in distress.
Nicholas gently urged them out of the way to swing his legs over the edge of the bed, biting down on his groan of pain. He fumbled with the nightstand drawer, pulling his most recent journal out and turning to the final entry. He silently read the last line through his blurred vision.
“Who are you beneath the stars?”
Gabriel would read these journals one day, and Nicholas wanted to leave the whole truth behind. He grabbed his pen, hand shaking as he wrote down Muharib’s answer. The answer he’d previously omitted.
“My name means warrior. I’m a fighter, Zayn. It’s who I’ll always be.”
The book slipped from his grasp, and something stronger than resentment and shame filled his dying body. Gabriel had once again left him with no choice but to go against his beliefs, and he surrendered to where that would take him.
Nicholas struggled to his feet, supporting himself against the wall as he took measured steps toward the bedroom door.
Quietly, he closed it, engaging the lock.
He wanted to sink to the carpeted floor, wanted to bury his face in his hands and grieve the loss of himself, but there wasn’t enough time. Gabriel would be back any moment.
With one last thought for the man who did this to him, and for the pain he’d undoubtedly cause him, Nicholas made his way to the balcony doors.