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Normally, Aric would. "How can I leave him behind? I wouldn't abandon you."
"You're not hearing me--I would want you to, would pray you abandoned me."
When I remained unmoved, Jack turned on his back, staring at the ceiling. "Logic flies out the window when you're in love, non?"
What to say to that? Of course, I still loved Aric, but my need to save him was based on more than love. I couldn't stand the thought of him, Lark, and Gabriel vulnerable to Paul.
Jack exhaled a long breath. "I thought I was cursed because the people of my blood only love once. But you got it worse. You're cursed to love two men."
"Cursed." I could think of worse ways to describe my conflicted situation. When Aric and I had spent the night at that slave boss's house together, I'd realized that whenever I was with him, things reminded me of Jack, with the opposite true as well. Which meant I was forever screwed. If I chose one, I'd never stop thinking about the other. I'd concluded that pain awaited me, no matter what I did.
"If life with one of them isn't possible, peekon, then you're goan to have to make do." Jack took my hand. "Now, that's all I'll say on the subject, me. You got to figure out your fate, take charge of it. Just like I need to take control of mine."
He'd once told me he could handle all of this apocalyptic bullshit better than he could handle life before the Flash, because at least now he had more control over his fate.
But taking charge of mine would mean cutting out the variables I couldn't affect--such as all the uncertainty surrounding Aric.
I wouldn't rush a decision, despite the emotions I felt for Jack.
Despite the hopelessness I felt over Aric.
"Tomorrow me and the guys are goan to head out early. While we're out, you can relax here."
"You want me to stay inside? By myself?" I'd go stir-crazy in this tin can. I might grudgingly accept why women didn't get to salvage, but I could do something.
"Not saying forever. Just till we get the lay of the land. A week or two at most." He cut off my protest: "If you're running around in the settlement, I'll be too worried about you to concentrate on the job at hand."
"On the dangerous job at hand." Kentarch had mentioned that the water in the trench was so cold, it'd kill in moments.
Shrug. "It is what it is."
"What about announcing ourselves as Arcana? You used to tell everyone what we are."
"That was . . . damn it, Evie, our situation has changed. The last thing I want to do is bring attention to you."
Oh. "Because I have no jaw-dropping abilities." He'd witnessed my paltry defense against the Emperor and didn't disagree. "Jack, what if I don't have too little power? What if I have too much? In our last skirmish with Richter, I detected seeds in the earth--hundreds of thousands of them. When I called on them, the ground quaked."
His eyes widened. "That was you? You actually spooked Richter! I thought he'd sensed Circe. Why didn't you attack?"
"Because I glimpsed what I'm truly capable of, and it terrified me. I can't control a force that primal. No one could." At his frown, I said, "You know my powers are fueled by emotion, but rage burns hottest." Like rocket fuel. Easy to burn but polluting. "And now I've got a huge toxic well on tap."
My tourniquet had helped me survive tragedy. But with no outlet, my wrath had just burgeoned inside me.
"You always worried about turning into the red witch and never coming back. Give me the worst-case scenario. What would happen then?"
"I don't even want to consider the possibility." I lowered my voice. "She loves to kill Arcana--like my friends. I didn't tell you this, but in some ways, my grandmother was hateful. She told me that to become the Empress I was meant to be, I needed to draw on my hatred and pain. She pressured me to kill Aric, Lark, and Circe in cold blood."
Jack winced. "But what if you doan unleash the witch and you die? Though we got lucky with Richter, the monsters are just goan to keep coming. Somehow you've got to learn to turn your power on and off."
"On is a problem--because off is a problem."
"You got a kid to think about now. If that toxic well saves your life, then you drink it, you guzzle it, you dive in. You got no choice."
I held his gaze. "I think there will come a time when I've sunk so deep that I can never resurface." Then I'd become the red witch forever. My grandmother had actually been surprised that my hair wasn't red nor my eyes green.
Uneasiness swept over me, because that future was beginning to seem . . . inevitable.
"On that recording, you said I helped you."
I nodded. "You're my reminder that I want to be good. You're my link to humanity."
"Then I can be there to pull you back to safety." He took in my anxious expression and said, "Just think about it. We'll keep talking it out, okay? In the meantime, if you're not ready to draw on that well, then you've got to stay out of sight here."
"That's a big ask."
"I know it is. I hate even the idea of it. But again, we doan have a choice." When another gust rocked the container, he looked whipped with guilt, which wouldn't do.
"Fine. I'll stay inside until you think it's safe." I'd spend the days practicing with my abilities and trying to communicate with Matthew and Circe. Maybe I'd call Aric again, just to make sure he was still safe. "You win, okay?" I put my hand on Jack's cheek.
He inhaled deeply, and his lids grew heavy. I expected him to kiss me, would welcome it, but he made no move to. Jack could still love me; didn't mean he was as attracted to me.
I was beginning to fear he didn't want me that way anymore. Which really sucked. Not that I was DTF, as Mel used to say, but I still wanted to be wanted.
He seemed to give himself a shake. "So much is goan on behind those eyes of yours. But you need to rest."
"Will you stay with me?"
"Ouais. I'll be here, watching over you and Tee."
"You need sleep, to be ready for tomorrow--" I tensed, my stomach suddenly feeling strange. Flutter, flutter. "Something's off." Flutter, flutter. I took his hand and put it over my belly. "Can you feel that quiver? Oh, God, they probably poisoned our dinner!"
He grinned. "Or it could be your kid moving."
"Oh. Ohh." We stared at each other. "Can you feel it?" He hadn't r
emoved his big, warm hand. I relaxed under his comforting touch, sleepiness washing over me.
"Might be too early for me to, non?"
"You're asking me?" We both knew so little about this subject. Once the feeling had gone, I said, "How weird."
"Maybe Tee's telling us everything's goan to be okay."
"Maybe." I started to nod off. My last thought before sleep took me: Jack never removed his protective hand.
30
The Hanged Man
Day 582 A.F.
I walked a fine line with Death.
As Gabe and I sat before the man's desk in his firelit study, my gaze roamed over the great Grim Reaper.
He wore no armor, and blond stubble covered his jawline. He stared out the window at the falling snow, having little interest in our game of Tarot trumps.
Gabe sorted his hand with talon-tipped fingers. "'Tis a boring life with no battle to flavor our days," he said, his speech as outdated as ever.
"Sometimes boring is good." My own hand looked promising.
Death made no remark. His cards lay facedown on the desk, ignored.
Yes, a fine line. On the one hand, I needed the Reaper to despise Evie, so I sent him reminders to stoke his animosity. On the other hand, the more he hated her, the more he hungered to go end her.
I wished I could read his thoughts. Unfortunately, my telepathy was one-way, my ability limited to hints, suggestions, commands.
I'd told Evie that I couldn't brainwash. Long story short: I lied. Why did everyone always assume villains told the truth? I'm the TRAITOR, for fuck's sake.
I could imagine what the Reaper would write in his notes about me. Hanged Man: card reversal, absolute invulnerability, concealment, telepathy, emotion and trust manipulation. Plus, my handy sphere, a.k.a. an evil aura.
But I couldn't read minds. Luckily, I was adept at reading moods. Under his desk, Death ran his fingers along a red ribbon. From what I could gather, that ribbon reminded him of when the Empress had first taken up with Jack Deveaux.
More than three weeks had passed since Death had learned of their reunion--weeks of his roiling jealousy.
Gabe played a card: the three of swords. "How goes Fauna's search for the Empress?"
I answered, "She told me it's as if they'd disappeared." No kidding, Lark. I'd wanted to strike her baffled face. "Which, of course, they did."
