“It’s an open invitation,” Max said, turning his eyes back to the road. “It’s a big place. I’m always glad to have company. Makes it seem less empty.”
“That’s not why you don’t go back often.” I studied the way his expression changed from friendly to defensive. “You lived there with your sire.”
He nodded. “It’s a funny thing, when you’ve got a blood tie with someone and it suddenly goes away. Things you’d never thought would bother you really…hurt.”
“I know.” I laughed bitterly. “Believe me. I know.”
Bella returned to the apartment later that morning. Nathan was asleep, so when she asked if she should let Cyrus come up, I told her it would be all right.
We sat across from each other at the kitchen table while he stared bleakly at the peanut butter and jelly sandwich I’d made for him. His eyes were still ringed with ugly, purple bruises, but the blood had been washed from his face. Small lines of stitches stood out against his pale skin at his hairline and chin. His lips were swollen and split, and he winced when he tried to drink the soda I offered him.
“What were you thinking?” I didn’t mean to sound so angry, but he’d frightened me. I remembered all the times my mother, upon reclaiming me from a department store security guard or the yard of a playmate she wasn’t acquainted with, would grip my arms and sternly admonish that I’d scared her to death. When we’d discovered Cyrus missing, I finally understood what she’d been feeling.
He didn’t look up. “I don’t know. I wanted to die. But when I got there, and my father’s guards…When they were beating me, I realized I didn’t want to die. I fought them so hard. But when I got away, it was back. This pain. I don’t know what it is, Carrie. It makes me want to die. But when I get close…Why does this hurt so much?”
“It’s guilt. It’s supposed to hurt.”
I looked up sharply. Nathan stood at the kitchen door, his eyes hard and his face lined with fatigue. Below the sleeves of his T-shirt I saw the dark lines of scabbed-over sigils.
I didn’t know what to do. If Nathan went after Cyrus now, there was no way I’d be able to intervene. Nathan was too strong and a way better fighter than me. Besides, I hadn’t been able to make myself fight him when he’d been pinning me to the floor in the bookshop.
Cyrus’s posture straightened a little, but no discernable emotions crossed his face. “Nolen.”
Nathan’s gaze met mine, but there was no clue in his eyes as to what he would do. “Run into your father?”
Shaking his head, Cyrus lifted the soda can to his mouth. “His goons.”
“I can’t say I’m not sorry you didn’t get killed.” Nathan leaned against the doorframe, frowning down at him.
Cyrus swallowed and wiped his mouth. “I can understand that.”
Nathan pushed off the wall and came to stand in front of us. “What, no snide comment? You’re not going to lord your intellectual superiority over me?”
“Stop it,” I warned.
“Let him.” Cyrus sighed, weary and resigned. Nathan opened his mouth, but no words came out. Looking up at him, Cyrus smiled sadly. “It’s my gift to you, Nolen. Spew whatever bile you need to.”
“Why? So you can feel better about what you did to Marianne?” His voice choked with emotion and tears, I could barely understand Nathan’s words. “What you did to me?”
“I was sick.” Cyrus wasn’t apologizing, but he wasn’t justifying, either. “I did far worse to many others.”
“Like Ziggy?” Nathan laughed bitterly. “I could rip you to pieces right now.”
“I wish you would. It would be much easier for me.” Cyrus rested his forehead on the table and covered the back of his head with his hands.
Nathan’s own hands clenched to fists at his sides. He looked at me, his eyes rimmed red and teary, then back at Cyrus. He cleared his throat and scrubbed a hand over his face. “I’m not here to make things easier for you. And I’m not going to forgive you. I want you to remember all the fucked up things you’ve done. I want them to torment you at night. But do me a favor.”
Lifting his head, Cyrus met Nathan’s eyes. “What?”
“If you ever feel like committing suicide again, let me do the honors.” Nathan turned around and left the kitchen without a word to me.
Cyrus and I sat in stunned silence for a long time. Nathan hadn’t forgiven him, but he’d made some sort of progress by not simply tearing him to shreds right there.
“What will you do now?” I asked when Cyrus finally moved.
He picked up the sandwich and took a bite, chewing thoughtfully before he answered. “No one has notified Mouse’s next of kin yet, I assume.”
“The police are bound to have found her…” I trailed off. It seemed dirty to refer to someone he’d loved as “remains.”
He nodded. “I know. But they wouldn’t be able to find her family. She was very much like me in the respect she didn’t have many earthly ties.”
When he finished his sandwich, he stood, wordlessly moving toward the door. Sadness, more keen than I’d felt when I’d stood before him and plunged a knife through his heart, gripped me. I clenched my hands into fists to stop them from trembling, and felt the wetness of blood where my nails bit into my skin.
“If you ever need anything, money or—” I began, but he cut me off.
“I’m not going to ask you for anything. You’ve done enough.” He laid his palm against my cheek and cupped my jaw, his gaze moving over my face as though he was committing my features to memory.
I put my arms around him and buried my face against his shoulder. “I don’t want you to disappear.”
He smoothed my hair and kissed my forehead, but he didn’t promise anything. The funny thing about a broken heart, you don’t remember how it feels until it happens again. Even if it happens twice in one day.
“Goodbye, Carrie.” He kissed my cheek and stepped away, then turned and walked out the door.
Despite all he’d put me through over the course of our acquaintance, I sat on the floor and cried for him.
Chapter 27
Loose Ends
Max had nearly loaded the Trans-Am with his meager luggage when Bella came to say goodbye. She stood on the sidewalk and watched him pretend to be busy with something in the open hatchback.
“When does your plane leave?” he asked without looking at her.
“The charter is in Africa. I will be here for two more days.” She stepped closer to him. “Your friend has graciously offered me his living room couch.”
The thought of Bella staying with Nathan alone twisted his guts. Not that he thought Nathan would try anything. In his logical mind, he knew his friend was too busted up over what had happened to him to even think about romance. But the caveman part of Max wanted to challenge Nathan to some sort of wrestling match to protect his woman.
“If you are ever in Spain, you know where to find me,” she said, clearly attempting humor.
Against his better judgment, and the litany of “Max Harrison does not beg” that had been chanting through his brain through the long, sleepless day, he said, “Stay with me.”
“You know I cannot.” Her response came easily, as if she’d known the question would come and it had only been a matter of time.
That made Max hate himself even more for asking. “I don’t know that. We have something together, Bella.”
She flinched at the sound of her own name. “You are confusing sex with love.”
“Really?” He laughed angrily. “I’m glad you know what I’m feeling. Can I get a number to your direct line, in case I’m ever stuck in a rut and can’t decide if I’m angry or just need to take a shit?”
“Do not be crude! Just because you have let yourself believe some fantasy that I would, what, melt into your arms? Forsake my life as I know it to be with you?” She folded her arms across her chest. “I told you from the beginning what this was. It was purely physical.”
“That’s a lie!” He slamm
ed the hatch and stalked toward the apartment. If they didn’t get on the road soon, they might not make it before sunup. But he couldn’t leave Bella like this. If she was going to walk out of his life forever, she was going to damn well listen to what he had to say.
When he turned back to her, she still stared at him with her expressionless gold eyes. It was as if she stayed merely to pacify him. As if she would indulge him by taking whatever verbal abuse he wanted to dish out so she could walk away guilt free.
He wouldn’t give her the satisfaction. “I like you, Bella. Not because of the sex, not because of the circumstances we were thrown into. I like you. Just you, without all that other shit cluttering things up.”
Tears rose in her eyes, but she didn’t display any other outward show of emotion.
“And you know we could have something together, if you were willing to try.” His voice was hoarse, and he swallowed, trying to force away the ragged sound.
She closed her eyes. “I am sorry I hurt you.”
“That makes two of us.” He walked away from her, not wanting this to be the memory of her he carried, but his pain had tainted the good memories with a bitter edge.
So he left her standing on the sidewalk and went inside. He just hoped she would stay away until he left. No sense in ruining a perfectly angry goodbye with social awkwardness.
“You’ll call?” Nathan stood by as I packed, trying to seem worried and supportive, but radiating anger and relief. His emotions were too strong. There was no sense in him trying to hide them from me; I would have felt them anyway.
I’d expected him to argue with me when I proposed the idea of leaving and letting us take a break from each other. The speed with which he’d agreed stung me to the core.
I grabbed another handful of underwear—probably more than I needed, but it gave my hands something to do—and jammed it into my bag. On the road again. “As soon as I get in. Are you sure you’ll be all right?”
“I’ll be fine. I just need time.” He grabbed my watch off the nightstand and handed it to me.
Snatching it from him, I turned back to my packing. “Time away from me.”
“You need time away from me, too.” He fell silent then, and I bit my lip to keep from picking up the thread of the argument. I zipped the bag closed. Whatever I might have forgotten, I could pick up in Chicago. Right now, I just wanted to get away. “You should leave,” I tried for the last time. He hadn’t been swayed before, so I don’t know why I bothered. “It’s not safe for you here. Max says Dahlia is still in town. The Soul Eater had men here. You’ve got to get out.”
“No,” he said quietly, shaking his head. “He’s taken everything else away from me. He’s not driving me out of my home.”
“You’re so stubborn.” He’d be willing to get himself killed just to prove to his sire he wasn’t afraid? We definitely had different ideas of winning.
“I know you don’t understand.” His expression softened. “I’ve been here fifteen years, Carrie. It’s the first thing I’ve ever truly owned. This apartment has everything I’ve ever cared about. This is where Ziggy grew up. This is where I met you. This is our home.”
A small sob escaped my throat, and I covered my mouth.
His hand closed over my wrist. “You’re still my fledgling. Don’t forget that.”
“How could I?” The tide of hurt in me surged, spilling cold tears onto my cheeks. He tried to take me into his arms, but I shook my head vehemently and jerked the strap of my bag over my shoulder. “I’m your fledgling. But that’s not enough for me, Nathan.”
I didn’t kiss him goodbye. That would have confused things in my heart, the traitorous organ that frequently won over my mind. If I kissed him, I would tell him that I wanted to stay. I’d convince myself it was worth the pain of staying by his side, knowing he would never choose me over the woman he could never have again. And I was afraid of believing that.
Max waited for me at the car. He pasted on his stock, carefree face for me. “Ready?”
I nodded. “As I’ll ever be.”
Tossing my bag into the back, I climbed into the passenger seat. Low-riding cars made me motion sick. This was going to be a long five hours.
“You think he’s going to be okay? I mean, what about the Soul Eater’s guys? They could still—” he began.
I shook my head decisively. “He wants to stay. To stand his ground. And he wants me to go.”
“He’ll come to his senses,” Max said with forced certainty. “You wait and see.”
Wait and see. The question was, for how much longer?
How long should Nathan wait for his sire to call him back home? The Soul Eater wouldn’t give up after just one setback. No, he would regroup and come back stronger than before. And the Movement wouldn’t give up looking for Nathan. And he would be waiting for them both, too brave to leave, too weak to protect himself against the threat.
How long would I wait before my sire was dead, my heart broken all over again? How long until the next calamity would come to test me?
Wait and see. We could start now, stay on guard, be ready for whatever came at us. Or we could lie down and wait and see.
From where I sat, we didn’t have that kind of time.
The Possession Page 34