CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
My throat felt raw and acrid. Rain pelted my skin like needles.
I was still on my knees, but I was shivering uncontrollably now, still staring up at the sky as if I’d find answers there, written in the roiling clouds.
I was in shock, I thought dimly. Part of me knew I should probably get up, get out of this storm that I suspected I was responsible for.
But … I couldn’t bring myself to care. There was only the dull roar in my head, and the white-hot sensation burning through my veins.
Suddenly it felt like everything was tilting.
I leaned forward, breathing heavily, and flattened my palms against the cold, wet ground.
A moment later, I felt someone help me lean upright.
When I just knelt there, swaying, those same hands slid beneath my knees and behind my back.
A moment later, I was tucked firmly against someone’s chest. My only response was to shiver, and then my teeth started to chatter.
“Goddamn it, Fortuna,” a voice muttered. Probably Collith.
“Think we need to call Zara?” another voice asked. Laurie.
“Not yet. But we do need to get her out of these wet clothes.”
I was regaining some of my senses now, enough to register that Collith was pulling off my shirt while Laurie bent to remove my shoes.
I didn’t want their tenderness. Not so soon after leaving Oliver.
I saw that look on his face again—the pure anguish—as he’d died.
Grief tore through me. I pushed Collith’s hands away, shaking my head as I retreated.
I held my arms against my chest and balled my hands into trembling fists.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I’m sorry.”
I didn’t know who I was apologizing to, or why.
A moment later, my spine hit a hard surface, and I stared blankly at the familiar details of my bathroom.
The bottle of perfume on the counter. The sticky note on the mirror that Emma had left one day, which said in her surprisingly neat handwriting, You are loved.
The framed map of Granby on the wall. All of it was achingly familiar, and yet, I felt like a stranger in someone else’s space.
Collith turned his head toward Laurie and said something quietly.
Laurie nodded and disappeared. My teeth were chattering now, I realized, and I was shivering again.
Or maybe I’d just never stopped. I didn’t move as Collith turned on the shower.
Within seconds, steam clouded the air over our heads.
Then Collith crossed the room in three strides and reached for me.
I shrank away. “No,” I said.
Collith immediately pulled back, and I heard the sound of soft footsteps. The door opened and closed. I stayed where I was, still staring at those objects blankly. The perfume, the note, the map. Then the door opened again, and I heard Lyari say, “We’re coming in, my lady.”
I didn’t look up, but I sensed her drawing near.
I felt a careful touch on my arm. The silent question got through to me somehow, and this time, I went willingly.
A second figure appeared on my other side, supporting me around my waist. Emma and Lyari guided me over the lip of the tub and into the spray of the water.
One of them stepped in with me while the other helped from the side.
I felt gentle fingers in my hair, and the familiar scent of my lavender shampoo permeated the air.
Afterward, they dressed me and put me to bed. I shifted onto my side and clutched the corner of the pillow. Someone sat in the chair beside the bed while the other person stretched out on the floor. I stared unseeingly at the wall again, picturing that soul-rending moment. Take me. Take me!
“He’s gone.” My voice was hardly more than a whimper.
“Yes, he is,” one of my companions said gently. “But we’re here. We’re not going anywhere.”
A hand took mine in the dark. I didn’t know whose it was, but it didn’t matter. My fingers curled around theirs. “It hurts,” I whispered.
“I know,” someone murmured back. They squeezed my hand, as if to say again, We’re here. A small, faint voice at the back of my head urged me to let go.
I held on even tighter.
“Fortuna? Did I lose you?”
The sound of Consuelo’s voice was jarring. I pressed my eyes shut, hard, and forced all my thoughts back. To make sure they didn’t sneak in again, I envisioned locking a door. Swallowing, I refocused on the woman across from me and muttered, “Sorry.”
The clock on the wall told me that I hadn’t said anything for almost a minute.
Strange. It had only felt like a few seconds.
Ever since I’d killed Oliver, time had moved strangely.
Or maybe the damage had been done before that, when Nym brought me to Hell.
I still didn’t have an explanation for why all the clocks at the loft had stopped, not really.
There were so many things I’d never get answers about.
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Consuelo said.
The human sat in her usual chair. Her legs were crossed, her head tilted in the way it always did when she was listening to me. Her office was lit by the gentle glow of a lamp, and dusk poured through the window shades.
“Where did you go just now?” the human asked softly.
I wasn’t sure how to answer her, or whether I even wanted to. But Consuelo had taught me the value of silence. It had become easier to pause, and stop, and consider before I responded.
As I thought about what to say, my eyes roamed the room again.
For the hundredth time, I noted the exits and the potential weapons.
It was an instinctive thing—Adam’s lessons had gone too deep.
Me and my family might be safe now, but I would always catalogue every place I passed through. Assess for threats.
Everything was exactly as it had been last week, and the week before that. All that ever changed were the minute, insignificant details. Today Consuelo wore a cream, V-necked sweater and crisp-looking jeans. A thin, golden bracelet encircled one of her wrists.
What had she said to me? I wondered. Oh, right.
Penny for your thoughts.
“I was thinking about Collith … and Laurie,” I confessed.
Consuelo stayed silent. I shifted on the chair cushion, and in my agitation, some of those locked-away thoughts slipped through again.
“Neither of them have asked me to choose, but I feel like I need to. Soon. It’s been a few weeks since …
since my friend died, and their patience is going to run out.
We can’t go on like this. Well, I can’t, at least. Being with more than one person … it’s just not who I am.”
Consuelo regarded me for a moment, and although her eyes were as gentle as ever, they still felt piercing.
She was one of those humans who seemed to see just a little better than the rest, and I fought the urge to fortify inner defenses against it.
Consuelo had earned my trust. Sometimes the old fears crept in, wounds that were still scarring over.
When Consuelo responded, her lilting voice was thoughtful. “It may not be who you are right now, but that doesn’t mean it always has to be that way. It’s okay not to be ready for something.”
In a burst of restlessness, I leaned forward and rested my elbows on my knees. “I need to choose,” I repeated.
Consuelo watched me with a kind look on her face. “Do you know who it’s going to be?” she asked.
“No. I love them both, in different ways.” I swallowed again, my eyes wide and tormented. “But no matter who I choose, someone will be hurt.”
The human gave me a wistful smile. “That is life, Fortuna. You can’t be afraid of causing someone pain—pain is inevitable. It’s the risk we take when we forge a connection with someone. The real cruelty would be to withhold the truth from them if your desires don’t align.”
Consuelo didn’t seem to be judging me. She didn’t know that we’d just faced the apocalypse, though.
After everything I’d been through, after what the world had been through, this entire conversation felt ridiculous.
Maybe that was why it did matter. Consuelo was right.
These were things that people cared about not when they were surviving, but living.
There was a jab of pain toward the center of my chest, caused by the realization that she was right about something else, too. Pain was inevitable. It meant that I really was going to lose one of them. Forever.
I couldn’t speak for a moment, and I turned my face away, wanting privacy as I regathered my composure.
“There is a third option,” Consuelo said slowly. I looked at her and waited, still not trusting myself to respond. Consuelo gave me a small, kind smile. “You could choose yourself, for once.”
I scoffed. “I choose myself all the time.”
Her eyebrows half-rose, softly challenging me. “Do you?”
She really had no idea, I thought grimly. I tried not to think about all the turmoil and pain I’d caused, hearts and lives littered behind me like a road of debris. As I began to form a response, my eyes went to the clock on the wall.
“That’s time,” I said. I got to my feet and smiled politely. “Thanks for the chat. I’ll see you next week.”
Consuelo said goodbye, but something about her expression was solemn, as if my response had worried her.
I left without offering any reassurances.
I didn’t want to lie, but I also didn’t know what the truth was.
The only thing I was certain of was that I loved Collith and Laurie, but sometimes, love wasn’t enough.
Outside, I encountered a crow on the path. As soon as I came into view, it alighted into a nearby tree.
I hadn’t seen Nan since the battle. I’d texted Dracula about her, who reassured me the shapeshifter queen had survived, but the fact she hadn’t visited planted a seed of worry that grew with each passing day.
“Is that you?” I called to the crow, trying to hide a rush of relief and annoyance. Why did the entire supernatural world seem to know exactly where my therapy sessions were? Talk about an invasion of privacy.
The crow cocked its head at me. Then, an instant later, it turned around and hopped up to a higher branch, cawing as it went. Great, I thought. I was talking to birds now.
Feeling a twinge of embarrassment, I quickly turned and continued down the sidewalk.
My keys jangled in my hand. I’d only gone a few steps when something made me pause again.
I glanced behind me, looking over my shoulder.
I realized the crow was back on the ground, and it had ventured so close that I could make out the grooves of its beak.
When my gaze landed on it again, the small animal bent into a deep bow.
“It is you,” I said. Nan just flicked her tail feathers and launched into the sky. I called after her, “You’re kind of a creep, you know that?”
Her answering caw echoed through the air.
I arched my head back to follow the crow’s progress, squinting against that distant, dying sun.
The creature flew directly into the light, feathers gleaming like bits of stars.
Those wingbeats didn’t slow or hesitate, and soon, the rapid sound faded, leaving stillness in its wake.
I reached the end of the sidewalk and turned right, heading for the new car I’d just bought.
At the curb, I turned and looked back at Consuelo’s house, my lips pursed thoughtfully. The comment she’d made echoed through my mind. You could choose yourself, for once.
I turned and got into my car, closing the door so hard I felt it in my bones.