Ripples Through Time

by Ripples Through Time (lit)

  “I love you, too,” she whispered, her voice cracked with tears. “I love you, Nicolai.”

  “That’s…all I need.”

  She shook her head, bathing him in falling tears. “Let me get you more blood,” she said, rising to her feet. “I can’t sit here and do nothing. Please…aren’t you—”

  “Blood won’t…help, darling. I just…need you.” Nicolai forced his weakened grip to tighten around her hand. “Stay here. I…don’t want to…to miss…”

  “I refuse to do nothing,” she repeated.

  “You’re here. All I need.”

  Ravenna inhaled but obeyed, sitting again in the rocker, almost absently. “There must be something. Would my blood—”

  “No.”

  She blinked. “Nicolai…”

  Nicolai’s head gently rocked back and forth. Were his heart in a position to beat, he remained certain she would have been deafened with its thundering. She couldn’t get that thought in her head. She couldn’t. His life wasn’t worth the sacrifice of hers. She was pure and innocent. He remained a damned creature who had evaded death far too long already. If she tried to give him her blood, he wouldn’t be able to resist. He wouldn’t have the strength to resist.

  Instead, he needed to die. He would die. The demon slowly withered away. It yearned for strength, and nothing stronger existed in the world than the blood of One of the Few.

  Should he get a taste, he would be completely lost. Perhaps the claim would ensure her safety, but he would not risk the world on a gamble. He couldn’t live with himself if his selfishness got her killed, not in this life and not in the next. The torments of Hell scared him not. The idea of losing his Raven and spending an eternity knowing he was the cause would break him the way no poison ever could.

  There existed no proof her blood held the cure. He’d never seen One of the Few before he met Ravenna, thus all he knew about death by holy water came by word of mouth. His knowledge remained ingrained in myth.

  He wouldn’t let Ravenna sacrifice herself.

  “Blood…doesn’t…help.”

  “Perhaps mine would,” she argued, her brow furrowing.

  Nicolai’s head rocked again. “No.”

  He felt relief at the splash of frustration that seized her pale, grief-stricken face. Good to see something other than the formation of tears. He wanted to remember her exactly as she was—a sizzling spitfire of a girl whose temper gave her strength, whose beauty thrived on the passion she inspired simply by breathing.

  “Dammit, Nicolai!” she cried, her eyes bursting with life. “What do you want me to do?”

  “Just…love me.”

  “I do. And you’re asking me to let you die!” She shook her head hard, her anger dissolving quickly into sobs. “You’re asking me…to do nothing. To just sit here.”

  “There’s nothing…that…can be done,” he replied softly. “I just…need you with…me.”

  She caressed his hair, making his burning skin tingle with the promise of her touch. It had been so terribly long since any ill had afflicted him. The one fever he’d caught as a child had nearly scared his mother to death, as she’d feared losing another one of her children to illness. He’d overcome it, though. He’d promised her he would.

  What an oddly timed memory, all for the fact that he felt sure he’d never felt so wretchedly warm in all his life.

  “I’m here. I’m here,” Ravenna whispered, her hand still brushing hair from his brow. “I’m right here.”

  He grinned again. He couldn’t help himself. The anger had vanished from her voice, replaced instead with longing he knew well. God, if only he’d known their last time together was truly their last. He would have made it special and as revolutionary as that first night had been. If Fate was truly something that could not be altered, and dying simply was the path he had to take no matter what he did differently, he would have taken advantage of every second they had.

  He felt he’d taken her for granted. No matter how much he loved her, there seemed always something more he could’ve done.

  God, he hated watching her cry.

  “Love…you,” Nicolai whispered again. “So…much.”

  “I love you, too,” she replied, her face a wet mess. She fell silent for a long minute, her right hand wrapped in his, her other hand stroking his brow with tenderness that would make angels weep. The quiet didn’t last. The air rattled on another hard sob, and she lurched forward, her eyes finding the floor. “You can’t do this. You can’t leave me here. God Nicolai, you can’t leave me here.”

  The heartbreak in her voice tore him apart. “I’m so…sorry.”

  “You can’t.”

  “I should’ve been…more careful.” His thumb slid across her hand. “Don’t cry…sweet girl. Don’t cry.”

  “You can’t leave me. I can’t do this alone.” Ravenna shook her head, squeezing his hand tight enough to will life into his body, should she possess the power. “I can’t do this alone.”

  “You’re not alone.”

  The words constituted an empty promise. He wanted badly to tell her he wouldn’t go anywhere, that the death of his body couldn’t prevent him from lingering, from remaining with her for all time. He wanted to tell her it would be better. He wanted to tell her a thousand things he knew he should tell her but his mouth refused to speak. He felt certain he should say she would love again, but even now he felt too selfish to give the thought merit.

  It was hardly his worst failing.

  “Tell me…” Nicolai implored softly, his thoughts desperate to stray from these troublesome things. “Tell me…you don’t regret it.”

  Her reply came immediately. She didn’t ask for clarification. “I don’t regret it.”

  “Me…either.” He tried to raise her hand to his mouth again, but found he lacked the strength. He settled for favoring her with another soft squeeze. “For my life to come…I regret nothing.”

  Ravenna’s body wracked with a hard sob. “Nicolai, please…”

  “I love you.”

  The words were a mantra in his head, one which he felt determined to grant life with his dying breath. It seemed important that she hear it, over and over again if necessary, as many times as it took to get her to understand how much he meant it. He meant every word.

  “Please, God,” Ravenna whispered, not looking at him, trembling. “Do not take him…”

  God doesn’t take mercy on creatures like me.

  He thought for a second the words had actually escaped his lips. The world around him grew fuzzy. Shapes blurred, colors blended without prejudice, and sound began to drone in the long echoes of unintelligible melodies. He felt Ravenna resting her precious head against his chest, her small body rocking with sobs, her hand holding onto his so tightly that he wondered if she meant to keep the glove of Hell from grasping him, even if it meant she had to fight it herself.

  “Please…do not leave me alone…”

  Nicolai blinked hard, wetness stinging his eyes. He didn’t know if they were her tears or his own.

  It didn’t matter, he supposed. Her tears were his, and his were hers.

  They kept nothing from each other.

  “Ra…”

  Ravenna jerked upward, her tear-stained lips finding his. “I love you, Nicolai,” she whispered. “I love you.”

  He hoped he could convey the words in a smile. He had not said them enough.

  As it stood, his voice had abandoned him.

  Her eyes were the last thing he saw. He watched her, trying hard to convey everything which remained unsaid. He watched her as his feet dissolved, followed by his legs, his torso and hands and as pieces of him were fragmented away into nothing but dust. But even as he crumbled, he couldn’t look away.

  Instead, he kept his eyes on hers. He watched the color of horror and sorrow sweep across her gorgeous face, wanting desperately to reassure her of something.

  Anything…

  He tried to speak before his mouth faded into dust, bu
t his voice wouldn’t come. Even as the world fell to shadows, he could still see emerald crystals. He supposed they would follow him forever.

  Ravenna lit his way through darkness even now.

  She always had.

  Chapter 19

  Present Day

  Raven felt quite certain she would never forget the look on his face. How his eyes widened, the way his jaw had all but crashed to the floor, and the gasp which had seized his throat before he ripped himself from her arms completely. She had no idea what had happened or why. One second she was enjoying the cool sensuality of his mouth, ready to die in a sea of blissful wonders that he was with her, then he tore away from her as though she was made of fire. He’d barreled over and anchored his hands against his knees, his dead chest clamoring for air he didn’t need.

  Everything had changed. She didn’t know how or why, but everything had changed.

  Something monumental had happened. There had been an insanely hopeful beat wherein she’d allowed herself to dream the past had been returned to him and that he remembered everything. The notion died just as quickly. Nicholas bolted the second he seized a hold of himself.

  Nicolai wouldn’t have run from her.

  Yet there was a ringing in her ears which begged to differ. A ringing time could not eradicate once its awful sound tainted the air.

  He might hate you. He might hate what you’ve done, what you’ve made him relive. He might wish you dead.

  Paimon’s prophecy. Was it possible it had come true?

  Had she really forsaken time and reason, nature and death? Had she really sacrificed herself only to have the man who had once loved her now look upon her with hate?

  Nicolai would never hate me.

  No. No, he wouldn’t.

  However, it seemed colored with his own past as well as Nicholas’s, he might have reason to hate her.

  Raven shivered hard and pushed into the living room. She knew that if she dwelled upon these unhappy thoughts, her mind would set up a ring of traps in which to fall. She couldn’t allow herself to construct her own prison.

  “Raven.” Dexter took a step toward her. “Nicholas just tore out of here. What the hell happened?”

  She licked her lips and shook her head. “I don’t know. We were kissing—”

  Dexter made a face. “Could’ve done without that visual.”

  “Well,” she replied, ignoring the sickly twist of her stomach. “You asked. Maybe, for the moment, we focus on Paimon. Just to keep my mind off things.”

  “Raven—”

  She held up a hand. “Dex, please? I need something to focus on.”

  He held her eyes a minute longer before nodding. “Yeah,” he said, smiling. “We can. If you just… Ah…” His eyes fixed on something behind her. “Might have to hold that thought.”

  Raven inhaled sharply. She knew without needing to be told that Nicholas had returned. Her skin hummed with awareness, her blood warming, every fiber of her being aching for the solace of his embrace. Her heart, however, suddenly thundered and her mind had gone silly.

  He hadn’t just left, he’d bolted. He’d fled from her and she didn’t know why.

  “Had to come back,” Nicholas said softly, his voice reaching her ears before her feet could fully pivot to face him and before her eyes saw his. “Could never stay away from you, could I?”

  Awareness washed over her with all the courtesy of a cold shower. Just like that, she understood. Raven’s breath caught in her throat. “Oh my God, Nicolai…”

  Dexter took a step forward. “Does he…”

  “I remember.”

  Everything fell deathly still. Even the dust in the air froze in astonishment. Raven found herself in mid-turn, her gaze locked with his, her brain ready to collapse. She saw him caught in that impenetrable stare of realization. At once her heart felt like singing, even as the rest of her grew cold with dread that hadn’t a name, but existed nonetheless.

  He knew. He knew. He remembered.

  Yet he’d run from her.

  “Nicolai?” she asked softly, her voice cracking. God, she would dissolve right here and she didn’t give a damn. She just wanted to hear his voice. He could say anything he liked. Hell, he could read her the morning paper and she’d be content. She just needed his arms around her. She needed these fears banished and his love for her whispered in her ears. “Oh…”

  Nicholas didn’t say anything. He seemed just as frozen as she, as though he didn’t know if he was truly prepared to look at her.

  “You can’t know he speaks the truth,” Dexter said. “It might be…”

  “Stop it,” Raven said. She had to believe.

  “I remember,” Nicholas repeated. “I remember.”

  Tears broke through her barrier and began making silent, steadfast rivers down her cheeks. “Nicolai…oh God…”

  “Your Guardian wants proof?” he asked, taking a slow, methodical step forward. “Can’t offer much, I guess. There’s this: you painted the sunrise on our bedroom wall. You love dancing in the rain. Your left foot’s ticklish, but your right one’s not. You were with me when…” A heartbreakingly poignant smile split his face. “When it happened. Your eyes were the last thing I saw.”

  “Yes. That’s right.”

  “I remember everything, darling. Everything.”

  If nothing else, that was the one thing that finally had her moving and breaking away from the glass prison where she’d trapped herself in her hopeful bewilderment. Darling was something Nicholas had never called her. Never. It was wholly a Nicolai expression, a call to a world apart, something spoken today often in jest, never mindful of how much it meant to others.

  Meant to people like her.

  It was real.

  He was here.

  “Nicol—”

  Raven didn’t realize she’d stepped forward until Nicholas stepped back, holding up a hand, his expression pained and wrought with emotions she didn’t want to name. The world went cold around her.

  Oh God.

  “I…” He was breathing hard, his expression lost and conflicted. “Sorry, I thought I could, but I can’t. I can’t do this right now.”

  “Nicolai—”

  “Nicholas,” he corrected. “Still Nicholas.” He glanced up, and she saw part of him break at the sight of her tears. “I can’t do this now. I’m so sorry. I just can’t. I’ll…I just thought you oughta know…that I know.”

  “I don’t—”

  “Sorry for running out on you earlier. Didn’t mean to like that. I just…” He broke off, shaking his head. “I need to think. All right? I need to think.”

  He turned then and as silently as he’d come, he began to walk away, his body lacking its usual confidence. He looked, for all the world, like a half-man.

  She’d done that to him. Dear God.

  Yet, unable to help herself, she knew she couldn’t allow him to leave like this. Not like this. Not with the dreams of a lovers’ reunion shattering around her. She had to let him know the one thing that had gotten them here. She knew he had no reason to not believe her, but knowledge only heightened the words’ importance.

  She had to tell him again.

  “I love you.”

  Nicholas paused just as he reached the front door. “I love you, too.”

  How those words could sound so heartfelt but so distant at the same time she didn’t know—only that they did.

  Nicholas met her gaze over his shoulder. He meant it. He really did. He loved her.

  God help her, it wasn’t enough.

  “I’ll find you when I’m ready,” he promised.

  Then he was gone.

  Chapter 20

  Colonial New Hampshire, 1701

  Dead in her world didn’t remain dead. They came back, often with a temper, and it was her job to stop them.

  In her world, death meant little more than a break.

  There are always ways.

  Pain gnawed at every corner of her body, dulling the senses
so horribly that she eventually felt nothing at all. And that was the worst—a feeling even more horrible than pain. For no matter how horrible her pain was, she knew she was human if she felt it. She knew she hadn’t completely abandoned herself. She knew she wasn’t so lost in grief that agony-riddled-fury had drowned out all capacity for love.

  She didn’t ever want to grow so barren that she forgot love. She knew well how grief could eat away at one’s insides. She never wanted to lose herself like that. She refused to become a shadow of who she had been, the girl with whom Nicolai had fallen in love. She refused to damn herself for the sins of another.

  She might not feel pain anymore, but Ravenna hadn’t stopped weeping. She cried until she forgot how it felt not to cry.

  She cried until she had no more tears. She cried so hard they came back.

  It never ended. Sleep only worsened the pain because it wasn’t purely physical and wouldn’t will itself into nothing. No, sleep provided dreams, and dreams provided wishful remembrances of the past and mockingly cruel depictions of the present. Whenever she closed her eyes, she saw him fade to dust. In the whispers between wakefulness and sleep, she would feel his lips caressing her brow, his calm, soothing voice promising her he was with her still. She would feel his hands on her at night, but when she rolled over in her bed and reached for him, her fingers would brush the linens of an empty mattress.

  No matter how often she felt him, he wasn’t there. He wasn’t with her.

  Nicolai was truly gone.

  There are always ways.

  Ravenna remained enclosed with his ashes for two days straight. She couldn’t bear the thought of leaving the room without him. The room into which they’d walked side-by-side, where he’d last touched her hand, caressed her cheek, and graced her lips with his kiss.

  The room where he’d given her the last I love you she would ever hear him voice.

  Oh God.

  She felt locked within her sorrow, unable to move from the place where he’d last lain. She had his dust collected and placed in a vase stolen from the front parlor, if only to ensure that no bit of him went lost.

  The pain in her body might have numbed, but her heart still screamed. Her heart never stopped screaming, her blood rushing so hot she was sure she would eventually boil and melt. Her stomach couldn’t tolerate food, and she similarly refused drink though her throat was parched.