Everlasting

by C. S. Johnson

  “No,” I repeated. “I have to stop her. This isn’t just a battle against a bad guy. This is a battle of the heart—for both of us. I need you to go back to the house and stay safe while I get her.”

  Lucas began to whine, but Lyra nodded. “Alright,” she said. “But bring her back to us. We like her.”

  I smiled. “I will. I like her, too.”

  ☼13☼

  Release

  When I was a teenager, the back door to Rachel’s was always locked, but I found out pretty quickly after I started officially dating Raiya where Rachel left the spare key. I almost never used it, with a few minor exceptions, since Raiya was more often awake in the early mornings when I would come to bother her or to be with her.

  This time, I didn’t have to use the key at all.

  The back door, while it may have once been locked, had been blown in. The wood nailed across the door, boarding it up to easy public access, was splintered open, revealing a small entrance.

  I had to suck in my stomach, but I made it through.

  It was nothing for me to find my way around the dark house to the stairs. I didn’t hesitate any fraction of a second as I made my way to Raiya’s room, even though the smell of coffee fumes, sunk into the wood over the years, beckoned me back to a world of happiness.

  I sensed her before I saw her. Her room was musty and cold, but I felt the warmth of her soul, and it seemed to make everything more vibrant and lively.

  She was sitting on her bed, her legs covered up by her old comforter. There was a quietness about her, an uncertainty; it was a feeling that kept me back, letting me lean into the doorframe. “Raiya.”

  She flinched at my voice, but she managed to find her own. “I guess Rachel didn’t do a very good job packing up my room when she moved,” she said.

  “No, she didn’t,” I said. I thrust my hands into my pockets, nervously trying to force myself to relax. “It’s been seven years,” I said quietly.

  She only nodded.

  “Well, I mean, that means that Grandpa Odd was officially declared dead,” I explained, hating myself for rambling. “Rachel and Letty inherited his stuff, or so I heard. It was a lot, too.”

  “Considering he was an immortal, and he’d been here for centuries, I guess he had a lot of assets hidden around in different places.” She tried to give me a smile. “The money probably easily paid off all that debt you were worried about accumulating.”

  “I know, right?” I smiled. “Mikey told me that Rachel had moved closer to midtown. She’s working on expanding her business or something.”

  “She always wanted to.”

  A long moment of silence passed between us. I watched, mindlessly transfixed, as she fiddled with her blanket.

  “So you still talk to Mikey?”

  I shrugged. “Sometimes.”

  Raiya nodded.

  Silence again.

  Finally, I broke. “We need to talk.”

  Raiya arched her brow at me. “Isn’t it a little late to worry about dumping me?” she asked.

  My temper spiked. “You know that’s not what I mean. I want to know what happened to you, and what you know about it. There are more things we’re going to have to deal with now that we’re here.”

  “I wouldn’t worry about a breaking and entering charge either, if that’s something that has you worried.”

  “I have other concerns. There are other problems that will insist on being more irritating,” I told her. “SWORD is one of them. And your grandmother is another.”

  “You’ve talked to Grandma Rosemary?”

  “Is that her real name?” I snorted disdainfully. “Or does she have some sort of secret dragon name too?”

  “She’s not a dragon. At least, not literally.” Raiya sighed. “I saw her at the hospital.”

  “Tell me what happened that night. The night that you died.” I barely forced out the words.

  “I died,” she replied simply, and I had to wonder if she was intentionally trying to make me angry.

  “What else?” I asked. “Mark told me about your heart.”

  “Adonaias gave me a new one,” she replied, almost dutifully. “What else do you think happened?”

  “I might have been able to guess that,” I said, “but it’s nice to hear it confirmed. There’s no need to be snippy about it.”

  “You’re the one who was supposed to find me,” Raiya said.

  “Well, you’re the one who had the gall to leave me in the first place,” I countered.

  “You can’t blame me for that! It took a lot of power to hold off Draco and Alküzor and keep you safe.”

  “I would’ve rather died,” I nearly shouted. “Especially when I woke up in the hospital and found out you were dead.”

  She stiffened but said nothing for another long moment.

  “They didn’t tell me that you came back.” I stared at the floor. “Seeing you at the black site the other day was the first time I knew you were alive in seven years.”

  “I guess it takes some getting used to.”

  “Some.” I hated how unpleasant I sounded.

  Raiya slumped forward. “This is terrible. This whole situation has been terrible.”

  I walked over and sat on the far edge of her bed. “Tell me about it.”

  Raiya told me how she woke up in the hospital and her grandmother, Grandpa Odd’s wife, who had supposedly died twenty-some years before, was there. She had taken Raiya into custody.

  Raiya admitted, more than ashamed, that she didn’t fight them because she was worried for my safety.

  “Why?” I asked.

  “Grandma Rosemary told me that you were at SWORD’s mercy, and if I didn’t cooperate they would let you die.”

  So she had intentionally kept me from Raiya. That witch.

  For Raiya’s sake, I decided to hold off on my plans for vengeance—for the moment. “I guess that was easy enough to believe. I know I was in the hospital for several days.”

  Raiya nodded. “Once I was transported to their research lab, I was able to steal my case file. I knew then I had to fight to escape. But it was too late, and I was so weak.”

  I was determined to listen, even if I was trying to keep my anger at SWORD in check. I shifted a few inches closer to her.

  “Adonaias visited me, at the moment I fainted, and gave me a new heart.” Tears welled up in her eyes. “But when I woke up and realized I’d never see you again, that I had gambled my fate away to fear ... and then all the tests and surgeries, all of my babies leaving me before I could hold them, watch them grow ... ”

  Her voice trailed off as she looked down at her hands, a gesture I had often made myself when I remembered losing her.

  Even though the idea of her kids still felt like a weird subject to me, I could sympathize. She had to have been alone, and losing someone she never really met had to have been exponentially devastating.

  “Eventually, my body grew weary and stressed to the point where rage and depression were constant, even when I was forced to go to sleep. I wanted justice, but there was none to be had; I longed for comfort, and there was none. It was only recently that I was able to find the strength to begin fighting back. But by then they had me too tightly bound in my own shadows and chains.”

  I thought of how I’d seen her, huddled in the morgue. I reached out a hand and took hers, squeezing it in my own. Her hands were soft and cold, but I clung to them, willing to impart some of my own warmth.

  She tried to give me another smile. “You know, I always wondered if sending out Maia to attack us first was intentional, way back in the beginning. It’s so simple to do nothing, even when faced with great evil.”

  “You didn’t do nothing,” I told her. “You were fighting.”

  “I might as well have done nothing. I didn’t win.”

  “We won,” I told her, finally reaching out and tugging her close as her tears finally overcame her strength.

  The Raiya I knew was unbelievably strong; I
knew she was truly heartbroken if she was crying. And I couldn’t blame her. I was heartbroken for her, just as much as I’d been heartbroken for myself these past years.

  A while passed before I heard her sniffle. “Why? Why give me a new heart, only to have it break?” She closed her fist over her chest, clenching tightly.

  I don’t remember reaching out; I watched my hands as they extended of their own accord on seeing her pain. I peeled her hand away from her heart and placed it over mine—my own smashed heart, still reeling from the unresolved pain of our tragic parting. While I usually pushed my grief back, or pushed it away, this time I let it sail through me unhinged, let it roll over me like lightning-struck waves, as if I was trying to share it with her, the same as she shared hers with me.

  Years ago, I thought that forgetting everything would be the better path; but forgetting only caused me weariness—physically, emotionally, and even on deeper levels. I’d cried out silently, still trying to ignore myself. I’d waited for relief to come, to find an answer to a question I couldn’t even bring myself ask—the question of not why or how, but how long? How long would I suffer? How long would I be alone in my own world? How long would I be subject to pain too strong for me to even name?

  Looking at Raiya in that moment, I knew I had my answer. I would suffer any time, any pain, anything, all to be near her again. I knew I had never been alone, even as I’d sought to be alone.

  “I heard Adonaias say once that you’d been broken,” I said. “Maybe ... ”

  Maybe it is my fault you are in such pain.

  “Maybe we have been broken for each other, so we can be remade together.” I reached up and cradled her face in my hands. “I still need you.”

  “Hamilton ... ” Raiya whispered my name as my lips met hers.

  How many times is someone allowed a first kiss with the one they love? I wondered, enthralled at the thought as our kiss connected us to the hundreds of kisses before and foreshadowed the infinite kisses ahead of us.

  The hand I had placed over my heart tightened around my shirt, and I felt her heated response.

  I pushed back her covers and pulled her out of their warmth, determined to have her only cling to me. My hands quickly found her hair, thrusting themselves into their sorely missed softness. Soon I could feel her shiver, but I knew it was not because of the cold.

  I tore my mouth away from hers reluctantly, trying to catch my own breath. “I’ve missed you so much,” I murmured, nuzzling her neck.

  “I missed you too.” She managed to smile this time, and I was more than gratified to see it reach all the way into her eyes.

  “We might’ve changed,” I said, “but this sure hasn’t. I still want you. I still need you.”

  “I still love you,” she whispered.

  Hearing those words from her, the words I had longed for since I lost her, hit me hard. I was shaken from my heart’s slumber, as if part of my soul had been dead but was once more alive.

  I took her face in my hands and held her, marveling at the feel of her cheek against my palm.

  “You are the love of all my lives,” I told her, pushing a strand of her hair back from her face. “Nothing has changed that.”

  “Not even your girlfriend, the one who came to the house earlier?” she asked teasingly.

  “She’s not my girlfriend. But at least you know that hasn’t changed, either,” I said. I gave her a quick smirk. “You’ve always been my pick, even among all my exes.”

  “High praise, indeed.”

  “Only for them,” I assured her, tightening my grip on her.

  “Even if that’s the case, I think it’s better we don’t worry about them again,” Raiya murmured back, already falling back under passion’s sway.

  “My pleasure,” I whispered, seconds before I kissed her again.

  The spicy cinnamon sweetness of her washed over me, and I was not only comforted, but I felt renewed. She was still there, that girl I’d fallen in love with all those years ago, even if she’d grown into womanhood without me. I was certain of that, and that was just the power we needed to know we could make it—make it despite all pain, all misery, and all darkness.

  Raiya sighed contentedly as I cradled her against my chest. “I’m so glad to be home.”

  I took a hold of her hand and kissed it, catching her eyes with mine. “I’m glad to hear it,” I told her. “Because you’re never leaving me again.”

  I was only able to register her soft laugh before I allowed passion to cloud my own mind.

  I don’t know how long we held each other, talking and whispering and kissing, before we fell asleep. All I knew was that when we woke up, I felt like I was truly awake, as if the smog of the last several years had cleared up, leaving me with the precious gift of hope once more.

  ☼14☼

  Fatherly Love

  It seemed that I never dreamed anymore, except for very rarely. When I did, it was always frighteningly real to me, and I was pushed out of it wondering just what was real and what was fantasy.

  Over the past few years, I’d had only a couple of dreams stick with me to that terrifying degree. One constant dream that came featured a little girl with reddish brown hair and glowing eyes. Sometimes she had a boy with her, too, but this time, as I slept in Raiya’s arms, I heard her voice as she spoke to me.

  “You’re here,” she said.

  I blinked my eyes, seeing into a dream world. I was in a place that looked just like Shoreside Park at the height of summertime, and I saw her.

  The little girl, not much older than five, came running up to me. I caught her in my arms, and she giggled. I felt myself laugh, and she laughed as I twirled her around and pulled her against me. It seemed so natural to hold her, to play with her, to dance with her.

  I glanced around to see if her brother was around, but didn’t see him.

  The little girl clung to my arm. “I’m glad you’re here again. I wasn’t sure if you would come back.”

  “Huh?” I suddenly felt cold.

  “Ian said he didn’t think you liked coming here to see us, since you never said anything or tried to play,” the girl said. “But when we saw you earlier, I knew you liked us.”

  “Ian?” That’s the name ... of one of ...

  I glanced down at the little girl in my arms. She suddenly looked too familiar to me. “Aria.”

  Raiya’s oldest daughter, the same one I’d seen in my mother’s garden, smiled at me. “That’s me,” she said.

  “You’re ... ” I couldn’t bring myself to say dead, but she was looking at me so expectantly it ushered in my charm reflexes. “Beautiful.”

  “Just like Mommy?” she asked.

  I felt a lump form in my throat. “Yes,” I said, “just like Mommy.”

  “Mommy says I look just like her,” Aria said. “Except for my nose. She says I got your nose.”

  I froze. “My ... nose?”

  “Yes,” she said, pointing to her straight nose, its perky pointedness matching my own perfectly.

  “You’re mine.” Shock hit me hard and fast, leaving me feeling lightheaded.

  How is this possible?!

  “Of course I am,” Aria said, as her arms reached up and hugged me. It was the only thing that kept me together, forcing me to perform.

  “And the others?” I asked, barely able to breathe.

  “All of them are waiting for you, Daddy.” Aria placed her small hands on my cheeks, which were suddenly wet. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

  I jolted upright, slamming into the real world.

  “They were mine,” I muttered. I ran my hand over my face and felt the sweat and tears mixing together. “All of them.”

  Raiya stirred next to me.

  I reached over and ran my hands over her stomach, as if I was trying to find something that had been misplaced rather than lost.

  “Hamilton,” she snapped. “What are you doing?”

  Some part of me realized how irrational I was being. I sto
pped and slumped away from her, looking down at my hands in something more pervasive than defeat. “They were mine,” I repeated, barely hearing her.

  At my words, she sat up and looked at me. One look at her, and I didn’t need any other form of confirmation.

  The lump in my throat from earlier came back with a vengeance. “They were mine.”

  “Yes,” Raiya whispered. She leaned against me, trying to offer me comfort in a situation where no amount of comfort could be given.

  “How?”

  “SWORD was able to get DNA from your blood samples, the ones your dad had scheduled, while you were in the hospital. They wanted to see if they could produce a child Star on their own.”

  I thought of the small bags Raiya had carried through the site. Our children. “It didn’t work, did it?”

  “No.” Raiya’s voice nearly broke. “Not the way they wanted it to, anyway. They were all sent to the other realm before they ... ” Her voice trailed off, and I was left devastated.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked.

  “You already felt bad about me,” Raiya said. “I was planning on telling you later on, after ... ” She shook her head, ducking her eyes away from mine.

  “After we were married and talked about kids?” I suggested.

  “No. I was just going to tell you later.” Even in the low lighting of the early morning, I could see the faint blush across her cheeks. “But if that’s something you want, and it’s okay if you—”

  “Yes.” I thought of the little girl—Aria—and how I’d felt having her run into my arms. A new kind of sadness threatened to boil over as I realized I would never hold my little girl in this world. “Yes, that’s what I want. God, that’s everything that I want.”

  As I felt the new source of grief swell up inside, I pushed myself into her arms, letting myself sink against her as I released my anguish.

  She held onto me, bravely facing the force of my agony, responding to me in love and compassion.

  Long, quiet moments passed as I held onto her, trying to work through it all. As I processed my newfound grief on the inside, I barely managed to perceive the world around us. Outside, I could hear the cars passing in the street as the morning bustle began. Through the boarded windows, I could see cracks of dawn creeping up on the distant skyline.