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“Did you hear me?”
My head snapped toward him. “Hmm?”
“When will we speak to The Council of Hadrameil?”
“When it’s time.”
The numbers danced across a small screen high above. Vincent chewed the inside of his cheek but nodded. I knew he wanted action. He wanted The Hand here. He wanted battles as we’d fought so long ago. To him, she was just another Ig’Morruthen causing mayhem and destruction. He believed she needed to be put down like a rabid beast. I felt his eyes on me, but I did not know what to say. I’d failed, like so many times before. So, I didn’t tell him what I’d learned. I didn’t tell him how Dianna nearly bested me in a fight, how she moved like me, how maybe I’d trained her too well in Zarall. Nor did I tell him how utterly dangerous that made her.
“Where’s Logan?” My question seemed to startle him. I had not realized how quiet it had become.
“Out searching for Neverra.”
I nodded. Logan had been looking for her non-stop since this had begun, which I did not mind, but he wasn’t bringing a team with him. I worried for him as I worried for her. We had spent weeks looking with no lead. Dianna was the closest thing to an informant we had when it came to the Otherworld, but she currently wished me dead.
“Did he take a team?”
The elevator door slid open to a large lobby. Several long benches took up the hallway with potted plants in between. The images carved into the walls were reminders of the past, depicting battles I’d rather forget but that the younger generation loved. No one was on this floor at this time of night, most having gone home hours ago. Only a skeleton crew, as Vincent called them, remained.
“I’d be lying if I said yes.”
I made a low, exasperated noise deep in my throat before stopping and turning to him with a sigh. “Go get some rest. There is nothing else to do tonight that I cannot take care of myself.”
Only more research, more looking for things I knew I would not find.
He leaned against the elevator wall, staring at me for a moment before pushing off. “I can help.”
I shook my head, my hand splaying over my midsection. A deep ache still throbbed where she had impaled me. “I just want to be alone.”
“I know, and that’s what worries me.”
He meant it. I knew they all worried. I’d noticed them watching me closer these last weeks, staying near me more, constantly checking in. They meant well, but I despised it. They could do nothing to fix it. Fix me.
“I’m going to shower and go to bed, Vincent. I do not think you’d wish to be around for that.”
He forced a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Well, you’ve got a point.”
I turned away from him, calling out, “Let Logan know that if he leaves once more without a team, he will find himself sitting in a holding cell for weeks.”
“Yes, sir.” I heard a soft chuckle, followed by the elevator door sliding closed.
I meant every word. I would not lose another person who meant something to me.
* * *
My reflection stared back at me in the steam-filled mirror. Long, dark strands curved above my brow. My hair was getting too long again, but I didn’t care. Muscles corded my body, but I didn’t feel strong. A thousand scars, representing a thousand different failures, decorated my chest, arms, legs, and back. I ran my hand across my abdomen, remembering how Dianna had rammed that blade through me so effortlessly, as if I meant nothing. A dark part of my brain thought that maybe Drake was wrong. She had said as much, but then she saved me, even if I hadn’t needed it.
Another dark thought crossed my mind. What if I could not reach her? Would I have to put her down like all the beasts, creatures, and gods before? Could I end that smile that had brought me peace at a time when I’d wanted nothing but to disappear? I pushed from the sink, and with a flick of my wrist, lounge pants the color of sand draped my lower half.
I walked into the bedroom, keeping the lights low. My rooms were at the top of the building. A large pane window allowed me to see the buildings far below and the clouds that danced in between them. It was a room built for a king, a god, but I didn’t feel worthy of either title.
Dressers stood against the walls next to the bathroom. A bed large enough for seven sat in the middle of the room, and a lounge area spread in front of the windows to my left. Ancient texts I had taken from the council on my last visit were piled in a heaping mess on the table. I plucked the small strip of black and white photos off the table and turned toward the balcony.
Cool night air greeted me as I stepped over the threshold. The city below was quiet. Only the celestials were out, enforcing the curfew. I folded my arms in front of me and glanced at the photos. The corners of my eyes prickled as I ran my thumb across the images. Her favorite was the middle one, where she had to force me to look at the camera. She’d said it reminded her of how I never listen to her, but she was wrong. I listened to everything, every word, every breath. I listened.
I looked up at the night sky. Every star here looked like a dull mockery of what I knew existed. I sighed and did the one thing I had not done in so very long. I spoke to the old gods.
“I know when souls pass, even I cannot reach them. It is forbidden, but please, I beg you, if Gabriella is there, if she can hear me, let her help me. Give me a sign that I am at least on the right path.”
