by Ann Aguirre
Of course she wouldn’t get lost. She had the capacity to find him by smell at any point; since she hadn’t, Gavriel must conclude she couldn’t. Panic howled in him, clawing his mind until he could barely think.
Where is she? What have I done?
For hours, he dug, until his hands bled. Gavriel staggered from the ruins to the hills, calling her name. Only silence answered, affirming his growing fear that he was the only person left alive. He didn’t bother hiding his passage, running like a man chased by demons from one side of the island to the other.
No signs of life, apart from the birds and the small creatures that made their homes here. None of them were large enough to threaten him. They fled before his desperate calls.
Gavriel kept hoping to find her as he searched. Even a hint of what had become of her, that would be welcome. But it was as if the earth had swallowed her, and he was starting to believe it had.
“This can’t be happening,” he said aloud.
A vicious pinch to his inner arm didn’t wake him up. He was still standing on a rocky hillside with a sticky sea breeze blowing over him. Behind, the ruins were still half-sunken into the wreckage of the hidden lab. There were no cries audible in the silence except for the calls of seabirds, irritated by his presence.
He tried to hold on, grasping at the fraying shreds of hope, and he spoke aloud, as if his own voice had ever offered him any comfort. “Calm down. If she’s trapped, you’re the only chance she has.”
The words didn’t offer solace, but sudden inspiration struck, and he sprinted back to the ruins to look for some scrap of metal he could use to signal. Eventually, he found a length of pipe jutting up from the collapse and he knocked on it, using a set pattern. If she was buried within reach of this, she could answer and let him know she was alive at least.
He wouldn’t let himself entertain the other possibility. That she was gone, had been since the first explosion, and he’d never see her again, never touch her or breathe her in. Even the whisper of such an outcome nearly took his legs out from under him on a wash of anguish the like of which he hadn’t known since Oriel died.
I ran then—to save my own life—and to fulfill Thalia’s ambitions. I will never do that again.
Through pure will, Gavriel gathered the resolve to keep looking. He did find a sinkhole doubtless created by the blast, but when he called out, nobody responded. Maybe she can’t hear me.
He tried again, shouting until he lost the last of his voice, already strained from his first breakdown. Then he dug through the loose earth and came up against a layer of tumbled stones that it would take heavy machinery to dislodge. If she’s down there, I can’t save her.
Despair went for the sucker punch, knocking all the wind out of him, because he couldn’t stop the sudden onrush of dire mental images. Mags, trapped. Mags, suffocating slowly, clawing at the rock until her blood smeared the stone, and the light left her eyes.
Fuck, what do I have to live for anyway? When a beast bred for battle lost its will to fight, what did the owner do with it? Somebody ought to put me down.
When the sun dropped on the horizon, after hours of fruitless digging, he lost hope. If she could come, she would. For another hour, he sat in silent despair on a pile of stones. This place is damned. It’s where the Silver Queen fell, where the Golgoth were created for brutality and violence. And this place took her from me.
It was fitting that this was where he’d end everything as well. Gavriel let his thoughts roam, taking a bleak satisfaction in considering all the ways he could do it. Falling from the cliffs? He might not die right away, and he did deserve to suffer.
A beautiful person who gave without asking anything in return…and I’ve killed her.
Yes, best not to allow it to be quick or clean. He’d heard drowning was fast, but terrifying and awful for those brief moments. No, he wouldn’t let the water have him. It had to be something else, something suitably twisted and terrible. Today, Death’s Shadow would take his place at his master’s side.
Rising, he walked to the edge of the cliff and gazed at the rocks below, the sea spiking white around them.
Here. I’ll jump from here.
Since he was so lost in bleak thoughts, at first, he thought he must have hallucinated the figure struggling in the surf. Then he took a second look, a third, his whole body hot with longing and relief. Gavriel got out his binocs to confirm, then he took off running, dashing along the cliffs like a mad mountain goat. From up here, he couldn’t tell how badly she was hurt, but she was moving.
She’s alive. She came back to me.
He didn’t merit a miracle like this, and he had no fucking clue how she wound up in the water. None of that mattered. Gavriel leapt and landed hard on the rocks one level down, ignored the pain in his knees, and kept moving, scrambling, tumbling down the slope to get to her as fast as possible. He could hardly think for the excited primate banging rocks in his brain, all euphoria and exultation.
His customary grace deserted him, and he fell halfway down the hill, rolling like a drunken sailor, and he scraped all the skin off both knees, took a tree branch in the side that bruised him to the bone.
So worth it.
He got up without checking his wounds, gaze fixed on the bedraggled tiger woman crawling up the rocky hillside. The moment she lost the will to continue, he added speed, ignoring the blood trickling down his shins. When he finally reached her, she was sitting on a patch of stony ground, wearing a dazed look. She smiled when she saw him, and he dragged her into his arms, holding her so close that it must hurt, but she clung to him with the same desperation. The fact that she didn’t break his ribs attested to her weakness.
Gavriel cupped her inexpressibly dear face in his hands, hardly daring to believe she wasn’t a chimera conjured by his fractured hopes. No, he wouldn’t have brought her to life with a healing scrape on her face. Her gorgeous mouth wouldn’t be blue, nor would she be shivering with her hair in sea-drenched tangles about her face.
“You’re here,” he whispered, because he’d given most of his volume to the wind.
“Sorry I’m late. I…” Her words devolved into a coughing fit, and he held her through it, until she could get her breath. “Ran…into some complications.”
“Tell me later. It’s enough that you’re here with me.”
“You sound like hell,” she managed to say.
“I know. It’s been a…bad day.” Such a comic understatement for how losing her had brought him to the brink of ruin.
Death would have to wait a while longer. Now that Mags had returned, Gavriel would fight all the way to the underworld and back again to keep her with him.
Now, he just had to convince her.
29.
Too tired to protest when Gavriel offered his shoulder, Mags leaned on him all the way to where they’d stashed their packs and the life raft. Her shoulder bag was sodden, and her phone was ruined, not that there was a signal. She hurt…everywhere. Now and then, she caught him staring, as if she was too good to be true.
Finally, they reached the stony beach where they’d hidden their belongings; thankfully, it was all still there. Gavriel immediately started setting up camp, far enough from the water that the tide couldn’t touch them. She sank down, conscious that her body needed more energy to finish healing, but she didn’t have the strength to shift. Too bad, because that would let her hunt.
Once he had the tent set up, she crawled inside. Sheltered from the wind, the sun was bright enough to warm it, but Gavriel didn’t stop there. As she tried to go to sleep, he pulled at her clothes. “You can’t rest like this. You’ll get sick.”
Mags never let anyone tend to her, but she was too tired to stop him—or that was what she told herself. Maybe it just felt good, knowing he cared enough about her to do it. When she was naked, he took off his clothes too, using his own body heat and the thermal blanket to warm her. Her shivering didn’t continued for long minutes, and he held her the whole time, stroking her back in long
, languid strokes.
“Do you plan to explain what the hell happened?” she asked.
“I blew up the loyalists.”
“Well, that’s concise. A little more?”
“I had no idea you were close enough to be impacted by the blast. Per our timetable, I thought you’d left long since.”
“It’s not your fault. I went in looking for you, but I was wounded, so I came out and started trying to remove the bullets, lost track of time…” Sighing, she shook her head. “It wasn’t my finest hour. It would’ve been better if you’d given me a heads up, though.”
He ran his fingers through her damp hair, deftly working away the tangles. “I’m sorry. I should have looked for you and explained my plan first. It’s—”
“Not worth rehashing. We’re both alive, right? Our phones aren’t working, and if you’d gone searching for me, maybe you wouldn’t have taken out all the loyalists in one magnificent move.” She closed her eyes on a blissful breath. His hands felt so damn good in her hair, gentle, applying pressure in just the right places.
When he stopped, Mags wasn’t ready and she opened her eyes with a soft protest, especially when he moved away from her. If she had her head on straight, she’d probably put a stop to this, but what could it hurt to indulge herself? In three days, Ceras would return, and they’d go their separate ways once they reached the mainland.
Paper crinkled, then he passed her a lumpy rectangle. “Here, have a protein bar.”
Even if it was plant protein, this would help. Mags took the food and devoured it in four bites. “Thanks.”
As soon as she finished, Gavriel came back, wrapping her up in his arms. “We have time to rest. Get some sleep.”
Good advice. That would conserve energy, maybe enough that her body could repair itself. She let him cuddle her because it was blessedly warm, and in no time at all, Mags winked out. The next thing she knew, it was dark, and Gavriel was touching her—nothing sexual—little compulsive strokes on her shoulders and back.
“Didn’t you get any sleep?”
“A bit.”
That smelled like a lie, but she didn’t argue with him. Stretching, she slid out of the tent and tested her reserves. Ah, I’m good now.
“Time for me to cat up and go hunting. Should I bring anything back for you?” Mags suspected he’d decline, but it was polite to ask.
“No, I have enough protein bars to last until the boat returns.”
“I’ll be back.”
Without waiting for his reply, she bounded off and found dinner quickly up in the hills. She ate in tiger form, feeling the last of her wounds seal, then she groomed, licking away the salt from her ordeal in the sea. Finally, she used the facilities, less lowering as a tiger, then Mags felt ready for anything, though it was the middle of the night. It was only a few hours, but Gavriel was pacing when she got back and he had been for a while, clearly, as he’d worn a shallow trench in front of the tent.
As she shifted back, he let out a slow, deep breath. “You’re safe.”
“Why wouldn’t I be? There’s nothing here that could hurt me now. You know I’m an apex predator, right?”
Ignoring that, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her. Mags tried to pull away, conscious that her mouth tasted like raw meat and blood, nothing any Eldritch would want, but he didn’t let go, and she fell into the kiss, energized, if slightly confused by his urgency. Finally, she pulled away, panting.
“What’s happening here? Some kind of life-affirming sex thing?”
“Yes. That,” Gavriel said, so quickly that it made her suspicious but then he was pulling her toward the tent.
He didn’t smell aroused, per se, and this didn’t fit the usual parameters of his desire. Yet he was urging her down, covering her body with his, and that wasn’t normal for him either. But when she felt his lips on her neck, she arched her throat and decided to let him lead. Ripples of pleasure followed wherever he kissed. He nuzzled a path down her neck, over her shoulders, and onto her breasts. This was softer than she usually liked, but it still felt good, enough that her nipples hardened, and he sucked one into his mouth, used his teeth and tongue to please her.
Mags moaned and cupped his head in her hands. “Are you trying to make amends? Because it feels like you’re…worshipping me.” Strange word but it fit.
“Do you not like it?”
She settled back. “Continue. I’m curious what you’ll do, given complete freedom.”
Gavriel licked and kissed every inch of her body, so slow and thorough that she was soon squirming. It was impossible for her to quell her dominant impulses entirely, and she grabbed his head, shoving his face right where she wanted it. Mags groaned when he settled between her thighs. First, he kissed her there, soft and sweet, then he went to work with lips and tongue, alternating the pressure just as she’d taught him. His mouth on her clit was about the best feeling in the world, and she raised her hips, rubbing her pussy against his face. He made a succulent noise, as if he was truly enjoying this, and cupped her ass in his hands, holding her steady but not limiting her ability to move.
He’s so perfect, everything I ever wanted.
Tension tightened her belly, the urgency rising as she rubbed against his mouth. It wasn’t easy for her to come on her back, but she might make it this time if he kept going—yes, just like that. Since there was nobody to hear them, she could be as loud as she wanted, and she moaned when he found the sweet spot, driving her wild.
“Gavriel, that’s so good. Keep going. I’m close.”
“You like that?” He spoke right into her pussy, sending a gentle thrill through her.
“Fuck yes.”
“You want more?”
“Yes!” When he increased the pressure, it was all she could do to answer.
“I love the way you taste. I’m going to suck on you until you come.”
“Yes.” She’d never been one for dirty talk, but she was starting to like it, especially from him, partly because it was so unexpected.
His mouth felt exquisite, sheer perfection. He knew exactly how and where to use it. Her entire body was hot, the tingles coming in irresistible waves.
“You’re about to come all over my face.”
“Oh gods, yes.” She arched, her body tightening as his lips sealed over her clit, the pleasure spiking, and she clenched her thighs about his head, muffling his next words.
“…And you’re wildly, helplessly in love with me.”
“Yes!”
Gavriel knew the moment Mags realized what she’d said.
She shoved him away so forcefully that he nearly tumbled out of the tent. “You tricked me, you bastard!”
If she was about to murder him, so be it. There were worse fates than dying by her hand. He knee-walked back to her. “It’s true, though. You do. Don’t bother denying it.”
“That’s not the point! You must have a death wish. I told you about my curse. You’re going to die, one week from today.”
He shrugged. “It’s fine. I’ll have no regrets.”
“Easy for you to say, asshole. I have to live with this again—and without you.” She was so upset that she couldn’t even look at him.
His heart turned over. “Don’t think about it. Let’s enjoy the time we have.”
That was the wrong thing to say. She swore and stormed out of the tent, still naked, but not for long, as in a heartbeat, she was a tiger, heading off to hunt. Hopefully, she’d forgive him for doing it this way, but he’d always been a sneaky bastard. It seemed fitting that he play to his strengths, even in this.
With her gone again, he worried, but not quite as much as he had before. The terror and madness of thinking he’d lost her forever had worn off somewhat. Gavriel occupied himself by attempting to fish with a makeshift rod, but he had no luck. He considered inflating the boat to try farther out, but if something happened to the raft, they’d have to swim out to meet the ship, and after her struggle in the sea, it was better to spare
her that.
In the end, he opted to eat another protein bar and do some stargazing. When was the last time I did anything like this? In truth, he couldn’t recall. His life had been pitifully devoid of meaning and beauty before he met her.
If he’d imagined getting her to admit her feelings would solve the problem, he was utterly mistaken. For the next three days, she ignored him, living as a tiger, sleeping and hunting as one. At first, anger dominated his emotions, but as time wore on, he understood. The only cure for this…was for him to live.
She’s acting like this in self-defense.
Mags didn’t speak more than five words to him before the boat arrived. In fact, they even packed and took turns blowing up the raft in silence. Respecting her mood, he paddled them out to where Ceras was waiting and let her scale the rope ladder first. Gavriel followed, offering a polite bow to the sailor.
“Thank you for keeping your promise.”
“You paid me well, more than I’d make with a day of fishing, and the weather’s calm. Did you finish your business?”
He nodded. “The raiders won’t bother anyone again.”
Ceras leveled an assessing look on him. “I’ll be sure to stay on your good side, mate. That wasn’t no easy work.” Mags stepped past them both, offering only a surly nod to the sailor, who watched her go with a raised brow. “Seems like you pissed her off. With respect, I’ll stay out of it.”
Gavriel tried to join her in the prow, but when he approached, she stood and made her way to the back of the boat. Sighing, he folded his arms and waited for the trip to end. Part of him feared she’d run, as soon as they hit land. According to the curse’s timetable, he only had a few days left to live.
I really ought to be more alarmed by that.
The fact was, when he made up his mind to die on the island, thinking she was already gone, he’d made his choice. Others might not understand the intensity of his attachment, but Magda Versai was Gavriel’s reason for living. Currently, he didn’t know what a future might look like for them; she had to believe it was possible first.