Every Last Breath

by Jennifer L. Armentrout

  far before Jasmine appeared in front of us. Sadness radiated from her every pore, but a look of steely determination had settled on her beautiful face.

  “Come with me,” she ordered, turning toward the stairs.

  When I didn’t move, Roth took matters into his own hands. Or arms. Turning to me, he thrust one arm under my knees and in the next breath, I was up off my feet and cradled against his chest.

  “What are you doing?” I demanded.

  “You’ve been on your feet this whole time and you were injured.” He started for the stairwell, behind Jasmine. “Don’t tell me that you’re fine. Let Jasmine look you over.”

  I started to protest, but he was already halfway up the stairs, and it hit me right then—everything that had happened in the last couple of days. Exhaustion grabbed hold of me and didn’t let go. It dug in deep and I was weary to my very bones.

  Jasmine stopped in front of what used to be my bedroom, and when the door opened, a wave of nostalgia smacked into me. I looked around as Roth walked me to the perfectly made bed and set me down. He lingered close, sitting on the other side.

  Nothing had really been touched with the exception of the bed being made, because that seriously hadn’t been me. My desk was still cluttered with notebooks, loose papers and books. The closet door was ajar, revealing the mess of clothing half dangling off its hangers and strewn about the floor, mixed among college applications.

  It was too weird being back here.

  I looked over at the window Abbot had once bolted shut and saw the dollhouse. My chest contracted, because I couldn’t help but think of the past—of Zayne. In a fit of rage, I had destroyed the dollhouse, and he had rebuilt it back to its former glory. The dollhouse also reminded me of how Bambi had made it her home.

  Tears clogged the back of my throat, but I didn’t let them fall. Instead, I focused on Jasmine, who’d put various herbs and her bag of torture devices, otherwise known as a sewing kit, on the bed.

  “Can we get the sweater off?” she asked, twisting her long dark hair back and securing it with a hair tie.

  Reaching down, I tugged the ruined sweater over my head. I had a tank top under it, but even if I hadn’t, I would’ve been too tired to care if I was showing off my goodies.

  Roth took the sweater from me, tossing it to the floor, and then placing his hand on my shoulder. His eyes were fastened to my face.

  Jasmine made a soft, clucking sound as she eyed the wound. “What happened?”

  “I really don’t know.” I cleared my throat. “Zayne stabbed the Lilin and this is what happened to me.”

  “The Lilin was stabbed with an iron dagger,” Roth added. “But it doesn’t look like she has the symptoms of being stabbed with one.”

  Jasmine shook her head as she poured antiseptic on a cloth. “No. She would be very ill if that was the case. I’m sorry if this hurts.” She placed the cloth against the wound, and yeah, it did sting, but I’d felt worse. “How have you been?”

  “Okay.” I didn’t want to talk about myself. I glanced at the door and then at Roth. “Zayne...he’ll be okay, won’t he?”

  Roth was slow to nod. “He has to be.”

  “He’s right.” Jasmine mopped up the blood on my shoulder and arm. “With his father gone, Zayne is in line to be the head of this clan.”

  My eyes widened. I hadn’t even thought of that.

  “He’s too young to completely take over,” she continued. “And it will probably fall to Nicolai to step in until Zayne is ready.”

  It was the end of an era and would be the beginning of another.

  My body was present while Jasmine talked as she cleaned my wound, and yet, my mind was a thousand miles away it seemed. I couldn’t believe what had happened. This outcome had never crossed my mind. I wasn’t mentally or emotionally prepared for any of this.

  “Good news,” Jasmine said, drawing my attention. “The wound is already starting to heal. I don’t need to stitch it closed.”

  Thank God, because the last time I had that happen, I had to be held down. Jasmine smoothed some kind of cooling, minty-smelling salve on my arm, and then rose. “You should get some rest,” she said. “It’s late. I’m sure the clan will have no problem with you both staying here.”

  Roth raised both brows at that. “You sure?”

  She smiled tiredly. “If I’m wrong, then someone will be up here to tell you to leave. Meanwhile, are either of you hungry? I can have food sent up.”

  “I’m fine.” Roth looked at me. “You?”

  “I’m good.” I reached out, grabbing Jasmine’s hand as she turned to leave. “Thank you.”

  “No thanks are ever needed.” With that, she left the room.

  Glancing down at my shoulder, I saw the glistening puckered skin. The wound was nowhere near as bad as it had originally felt.

  “Want me to grab you a new sweater?” Roth asked, and when I nodded, he headed to my closet, returning with a thick chunky one that buttoned up the front. He was quiet as he took care of the buttons and then knelt, pulling off my boots.

  As he kicked his own off, Morris appeared in the door, carrying two glasses. Both had orange juice in them, and that brought a watery smile to my face. He walked them over to the nightstand, and as always, he didn’t say a word. When he turned, he reached out, cupping my cheek with a cool hand. The smile was back on his face and this time it reached his eyes. Then he patted my cheek and left the room, leaving the door half-open.

  “That man...he is strange,” commented Roth.

  “He’s wonderful,” I immediately defended Morris.

  Roth shook his head slowly. “I’m not disputing that, but...”

  “But what?”

  “I don’t know. He just...gives me the creeps.” Roth frowned. “And nothing gives me the creeps.”

  I made a face. “There’s nothing creepy about him. Morris is the best and he’s an old man—not exactly a threat to you.”

  “Like I said, I don’t know how to explain it.” Turning to me, he scrubbed his fingers through his hair. “Tonight has been...”

  “A complete mess?” I scooted over, resting against the back of the headboard as I picked up the cup of OJ.

  Roth sat beside me so we were shoulder to shoulder. He stretched his legs out. “Yeah, that about sums it up.”

  I took a sip and then another before setting it aside. When I looked at him, I saw that the bruise along his jaw was already fading, but I brushed my fingers around it. “Are you okay?”

  His brows knitted. “Don’t worry about me.”

  “I do.”

  “There’s no need.”

  I sighed. “Roth.”

  “I’m fine,” he said finally. “It doesn’t even hurt.”

  “Good.” I struggled to take an even breath. “Tonight... I don’t even know what to think. I can’t believe Abbot is gone.”

  He took a deep breath. “You know how I feel about that man, what he aided in doing to you, but I know he raised you.” He slid his hand around mine and squeezed. “I know what happened isn’t easy for you to accept.”

  Closing my eyes, I leaned back. “He died protecting me. I can’t... God, I don’t even know what to say. I was so angry with him before this, but in the end, he came through. I...” I stopped, opening my eyes. They felt wet, and when I spoke, my voice was hoarse. “I still loved him, you know?”

  Roth brought my hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss atop it. “It’s obvious that he still loved you as well.”

  “Yeah.” I blinked my tears away and drew in a shaky breath.

  There was a pause. “Do you want to go check in on Zayne?”

  I turned my head toward him, not as surprised by the thoughtfulness as I once might have been. “Yes, but I think... I think he probably needs a little bit of time.”

  “Probably,” he murmured, reaching over and tucking a strand of my hair back behind my ear.

  Forcing my thoughts to the newest problem we’d discovered, I pulled our jo
ined hands into my lap. “The Lilin...it told me that we were in this together. You heard it say that. I guess we didn’t realize how literally we should take his words.”

  Roth made a low, angry sound in the back of his throat. “I didn’t see this coming.”

  “Me, neither,” I replied drily. “But it makes sense. Part of me created it. As did a part of Lilith. Grim told me that we were joined, the three of us, but he failed to really go into detail about what that meant.”

  “Of course he did.”

  “That would’ve been good to know,” I went on tiredly. “I mean, that’s a pretty big detail. If we kill the Lilin, then it kills me. And I’m assuming that works both ways.”

  Roth’s gaze turned intent. “There has to be another way. If there’s not, we’ll just find a way to keep it...out of trouble.”

  I arched a brow at that, because for one thing, I didn’t think there was anything we could do to keep the Lilin out of trouble short of killing it. But even if we did manage to contain it while letting it live, where did that leave Sam? His soul would be lost, plus all the souls of the congregation the Lilin had taken out. Granted, those people were fanatics, but that didn’t mean they deserved that kind of fate.

  Roth’s eyes shifted to the doorway, and I followed his gaze, my breath catching when I saw that it was Zayne. I opened my mouth but he spoke first. “Can I come in?”

  “Of course.” I pulled up my legs to give him room, but he lingered by the door, just inside the room. My heart ached for him, for everything. “Are you...?”

  “I don’t... I don’t even know what to think.” He shoved his hands into the pockets of his pants. “But that’s not why I’m here. I wanted to apologize.”

  My mouth dropped open.

  “I didn’t know that when I stabbed the Lilin it was going to hurt you.” His crystalline gaze met mine. “I would never hurt you. No matter what. I didn’t—”

  “I know. I know you didn’t. I never once thought you’d do that if you’d known. We didn’t even know,” I insisted. “You don’t need to apologize. That’s the last thing you need to do right now. Seriously.”

  Some of the conflict eased out of his features. Not a lot, but some. “Do we know why this happened?”

  Part of me wanted to tell him he didn’t need to worry about this, but then I realized that he might be seeking to distract himself, and I didn’t want to take that from him. I told him what Roth and I had just discussed.

  “There’s got to be a way to fix this,” Zayne said when I was finished. “To separate you from the Lilin.”

  “But what if there is no way around it?” A tremor worked its way through me. “What if the Lilin and I are really joined, like we appear to be, and—”

  “Don’t say that.” Roth’s eyes brightened fiercely. “Don’t even finish that thought.”

  “He’s right,” Zayne said, rubbing his hand over his chest. “There has to be another way. We just don’t know what it is yet.”

  I wanted to believe that there was something else, but if we were connected, we were connected.

  “We could check with the seer,” Roth suggested.

  Turning to him slowly, I stared at him. “The little kid?”

  He nodded. “If anyone might know, it would be him. The key is just getting him to spill.”

  “The seer?” Zayne looked confused.

  “The kid who kind of communes with, well, I don’t know what he communes with, but he doesn’t work for either the heavens or Hell.” I paused, grinning slightly. “He likes to play ‘Assassin’s Creed.’”

  “And he likes chicken,” Roth added.

  I snorted. “We can check with him tomorrow.” A moment passed and I frowned. “He’ll probably know we’re coming.”

  Roth smirked.

  My gaze flipped to Zayne. Shadows had blossomed under his weary eyes, and he looked... He looked lost.

  “Layla, you know you can stay here.” His shoulders tensed. “Both of you can stay here as long as you need. Okay? And if you leave—just be careful. I have... I need to go.”

  Slipping off the bed, I walked over to him. Before he could leave, I wrapped my arms around him. He stiffened, and then he turned in my embrace. Reaching down, he folded his arms around me. Against my cheek, he whispered in a gruff voice, “Thank you.”

  And then he let go and left the room, closing the door behind him.

  I closed my eyes again, squeezing them shut. I don’t know how long I stood there, but when I turned around, I made my way to the bed. Climbing in, I returned to the position I was in before, shoulder to shoulder with Roth.

  “I don’t think he knows,” I said.

  “Knows what?” Roth asked quietly.

  I looked at him. “I don’t think he knows how his father died. That Abbot was protecting me. He’s already so—”

  “Stop.” Roth captured my chin, holding my gaze. “That guy that was just in here? I hate to say this out loud, but he’s a good guy. He doesn’t hate you. He never could. He might not like you right now, but that has nothing to do with his father. I don’t know if he knows how Abbot went down, but if or when he finds out, he’s not going to blame you. Because it wasn’t your fault. And he knows that.”

  For a second I didn’t know what to say. “I hate it when you’re right.”

  Roth chuckled as he wrapped his arm carefully around me and held me close to him. My cheek found its way to his shoulder. So much had happened in a span of days that my head constantly buzzed with all of it. But in this second, right now, my head was quiet.

  “I wouldn’t have changed a thing.”

  I blinked as I lifted my head. “What are you talking about?”

  “The offer I had Cayman make to the witches.” He dragged his thumb under my lower lip. “Even if I’d known that they’d ask for Bambi, I still would’ve agreed if it meant saving you. I can only guess Zayne would feel the same about the way Abbot died.”

  “Oh, Roth...”

  “I just want you to know that. Okay?” He leaned over, kissing my forehead. “I miss that snake. I’m always going to miss her, but if I had to do it all over again, I would. No questions asked. I’d do it all over again for you.”

  twenty-five

  I REALLY WASN’T sure how Zayne and Stacey ended up in the backseat of the Mustang the following morning. Stacey had showed up first thing, moments after I’d stepped out of the shower, banging on the front door and demanding to be allowed in.

  A huge part of me—okay, all of me—wished I’d been in the command room to see Geoff’s face when that went down. In all our time as friends, Stacey had never been allowed at the compound before.

  From what I gathered, the Wardens had refused to allow her entrance until Zayne appeared. Turned out she’d learned of my now-minor injury through Zayne at some point the night before, because neither Roth nor I had been answering texts.

  The fact that she and Zayne were texting in the first place was a huge surprise to me. I didn’t think they’d ever exchanged numbers before. Not that Stacey would’ve been against having Zayne’s number, but I wasn’t sure when the whole becoming text-buddies thing had happened.

  Probably when I was in Hell.

  Was that only yesterday? The day before? I couldn’t keep track of the time anymore.

  Right now, she was supposed to be in class, not that I could really take her to task on that since I hadn’t stepped foot inside the school in what felt like forever.

  Since Zayne had been in the room when Roth had suggested paying the seer a visit, he’d brought it up while Stacey was visiting me in my old room. She demanded to go with us, and after about a half an hour of arguing, I’d given up on trying to reason with her. I didn’t want her anywhere near any of this, not even the seer, but as she had pointed out more than once, she was already knee-deep in it.

  It was also good to see her animated and active instead of a washed-out ghost version of the friend I loved.

  I was surprised that Zayne had j
oined us. He was quiet, his expression stoic. I didn’t know how he was processing the grief of losing his father mere hours ago, but he was holding it together, and that strength was admirable.

  When I’d seen Elijah die, I’d felt grief but it had been a different kind. With his death, I lost the potential of what could’ve been. Not that I ever fooled myself into thinking one day he would wake up and accept me as his daughter, but I’d mourned the loss...the loss of what never was. When Abbot died, I’d felt the loss of the only father figure I’d known, yet even though my grief