Song for the Dead: An Ada Palomino Novel

by Karina Halle

  He made me feel like I was enough.

  That I was needed.

  He made me feel like I was everything.

  “I love you,” I whisper, feeling myself shatter into a million pieces, glass that turns to rose petals that turns to dust.

  My heart scattered everywhere.

  I close my eyes, wondering if I should have even gotten up to start with, if I should have stayed on that pavement and given in along with him.

  But I know I have so much to live for.

  And I know he does too.

  It’s just, maybe he knew it too late.

  “Max,” I whisper into the wind.

  I want to stay here.

  Head on the seat.

  Holding onto the car even though it’s broken.

  But I’m broken too.

  We all are.

  “Ada.”

  I open my eyes, thinking the wind that’s whistling through the car is playing tricks on me.

  “Ada.”

  Max’s voice.

  The spark inside of me where he resides glows.

  I lift my head just in time to feel the rest of me rise.

  Pushed up through the air.

  Until I’m resting on Max’s chest.

  And he’s solid again.

  I press my hands into his stomach, chest, arms, bring my eyes to face him.

  He’s staring right at me.

  Inches away.

  Bloodied face, but his emerald eyes gaze right into mine, tears shining.

  He reaches out, putting his hand on my face.

  “Max,” I whisper, everything shaking.

  I can’t believe it.

  My heart.

  “You’re back,” I manage to say, marveling at him, at the way he feels beneath my hands. Solid. So solid. The spark so strong. “You…”

  He swallows. “Came back. We never got the chance to discuss how I feel about you.”

  I burst out laughing, the sound soft in the air. I’m smiling like a fool, joy spilling out of me like the sun. “Oh my god,” I cry out. Happy. So happy. “You’re here.”

  His eyes crinkle at the corners. “I’m here.”

  I can’t stop gawking at him, at this. At us.

  He’s not dead.

  He came back.

  “So then tell me,” I say to him quietly, heart swelling. “How do you feel about me?”

  He smiles, then it fades to something serious, running his thumb over my cheekbones, eyes sparkling with clarity. “I love you,” he whispers.

  I feel like my face will split in two. “You love me.”

  Now he’s smiling again, eyes searching my face. He bites his lip for a moment. “Yes, Ada. I’m in love with you. You’re my everything and my only thing and I love you.”

  “You know I love you too, right?”

  “I recall hearing that when I was someplace far away. Helped to pull me back. You, in love with me? Couldn’t pass that up.”

  I laugh, leaning in and kissing him, tasting our tears, feeling the energy build again, letting it flow over us like champagne.

  I can’t believe it.

  I can’t believe it.

  He’s still here.

  “You faded away,” I say, pulling back, my lips grazing his chin. “Went missing. Just now. Where did you go?”

  “It wasn’t to Hell. It was to a place I’d never been before. A place that made me realize that you couldn’t save me again. And I didn’t want you to. I had to save myself.”

  And I had to do the same.

  “Guess what?” I whisper to him, running my hands through his hair, picking out shards of glass.

  “You love me?”

  “I do.” I kiss him again. “But also, I killed Michelle.”

  He closes his eyes, relaxes against the seat, a proud smile coming across his lips. “I thought you would.”

  “And do you know how?”

  “How?”

  “I used your sword.”

  He opens one eyes, peering at me. “You used Mjöllnir?”

  I blink at him, taken aback. “You named your sword Mjöllnir? As in Thor’s Hammer? The Avengers?”

  “Technically Norse history, but okay, The Avengers.”

  “You mean Norse mythology.”

  “Yeah. Sure.”

  “Oh my god, don’t tell me you were a fucking Viking too.”

  He grins at me, the smile lighting up his whole face, despite the blood running down the sides. “That was several centuries before I came into existence. But who knows, maybe a part of me did exist back then. I don’t really know how old I am.”

  My mouth gapes. “You don’t really know? You could be older than you think?

  He gives a slight shrug. “I know as far as I remember. Maybe I was a Viking. Would explain where the red hair came from.” He runs his hand over my head. “Anyway, I reckon if the sword let you wield it, then you were more than worthy of doing so. I never thought any different.”

  “It was pretty badass,” I admit.

  “Darlin’, I have no fucking doubt.”

  I kiss him again, reveling in the feel of him, knowing how close I came to losing him, knowing how close he came to losing himself.

  “So, now what?” I ask, looking around. “The Super B is totaled.”

  “Yeah,” he says with a sigh. “Makes that crack in the windshield seem like nothing, doesn’t it?”

  “So where do we go?” I look around. “I don’t think we’re in a great neighborhood. I haven’t seen a single person come out of their house to see if we’re okay.”

  “That’s probably for the best. I guess we’ll just call an Uber.”

  “They’ll come and get us here? With your sword?

  “It’s New Orleans, sweetheart.”

  “And then what?”

  “I reckon we get to another hotel, then figure shit out.”

  “But the car…”

  “We had a good run,” he says. “But in the end, it’s just a car.”

  I nod. I like this car a hell of a lot. It protected us to the end. But I guess it’s a material thing in the long run.

  “Do you want to try and get up?” I ask him.

  I step out of the car, back on the curb, trying to avoid the broken glass on my feet. I reach in and grab him by the elbows, helping him to his feet.

  I stare up at him, holding onto his hand, still breathless at the fact that he’s here. “Do you hurt anywhere?”

  He moves his head back and forth, stretching his neck. “Nah. I’m fine. I guess I’m immortal again.” He glances down at me. “You’re in worse shape than I am. We should take you to the hospital.”

  I look down at myself. A horrific mess would be a mild way of putting it.

  “You know what? I think I’ll be just fine.”

  “Ada…”

  “Max.” I give him a pointed look in return. “I’ll heal. Let’s just get out of here and find a place to crash. I think I could sleep for several days.” I lean into the car, looking around for my phone to call the Uber, hoping it wasn’t thrown and broken. I find it at the foot of the passenger seat.

  Still working.

  Some texts and a missed call from Perry, wondering if I’m okay. Says she had a premonition that I was hurt.

  I text her back, knowing it’s earlier there.

  I’m fine. We’re fine. I have a lot to tell you. Just hang on for now. I love you. Tell Dex I love him too.

  I press send. That last part is probably going to get her super freaked out. I’m anything but sentimental.

  “Everything okay?” Max asks.

  “Yeah. Perry knows something happened just now. Felt it, I guess. Just trying to defuse that bomb.”

  “Ah,” he says, running his hand through his hair, shaking out glass. “She’s going to fucking flip her lid when she finds out about us. Not to mention Dex.” He pauses. “I better have my sword on hand.”

  “One thing at a time, big guy,” I tell him. I’m not ready for that con
versation yet.

  My phone immediately starts pinging.

  Yup.

  She’s freaking out.

  And for once, I appreciate it.

  I think I appreciate everything.

  Twenty

  “I want something good to die for, to make it beautiful to live.”

  – Go With the Flow

  “Good news,” Max says, hanging up the phone as I step out of the washroom, towelling off my hair. “The hotel will ship us the bag later today.”

  “Oh, sweet,” I tell him, leaning against the wall, taking him in. He’s wearing just his boxer briefs, red this time, and a fitted white t-shirt that has a tear on the shoulder. Yeah, the guy needs new clothes ASAP. We both do after this trip.

  But he looks fantastic. Somehow better than ever. His eyes are bright, hair vibrant, wonderful, body like a sculpted God. We barely slept last night, so I hardly think it’s fair.

  Plus, he died.

  Again.

  Meanwhile I look like I’ve been flung twenty feet out of a car, because guess what, I was! That, plus no sleep because I’ve had a lot of injuries to attend to, including picking broken glass out of my feet all night, and yeah, who knows why he’s eyeing me like I’m something he wants to eat.

  Not that I’m complaining. He can gaze at me like that all day, every day. There’s something to be said about being the one that makes him stop and stare, after being around for centuries and centuries. Possibly even longer than that.

  My Viking.

  I’ve decided that’s what he is.

  Especially since his sword is called Mew Mew, or however you pronounce it.

  He walks over to me, putting his hand at my cheek. “How do you feel after the shower? Any better?”

  I nod. “The drugs have kicked in.”

  Turns out I had some Vicodin left, which is very much coming in handy.

  “Good. So are mine.”

  I gasp, hitting him across his chest. “You took my drugs?”

  He shrugs. “Hey, I hurt too.”

  “Oh yeah? Where?”

  “My shoulder,” he says with a wince, moving it back and around.

  “Your shoulder has an owie? After all of that? Give me a break. Look at me.”

  I step back and gesture to myself. I’m wearing just a t-shirt and my underwear, my road rash on display. All the cuts, gashes and injuries from the demon fighting are in the midst of healing, and I’m sure by tomorrow they’ll be gone. But the road rash is something else. It’s all up my shins, knees, elbows, forearms. My hands are pretty raw too, but luckily they aren’t too bad because I’ve got a man in front of me that I really want to touch. Parts of him specifically.

  He scrunches up his face. “It could be worse. Come on. Let me nurse you back to health.”

  He puts his hand at the small of my back and guides me to the end of the bed, sitting me down on it while he brings out the first aid kit he grabbed from the car last night. He’s already used about half a bottle of antiseptic and Polysporin after we got here, and now he’s getting the bandages out, crouching down in front of me.

  Last night feels like a dream. A nightmare, really.

  After we crashed, and I chopped Michelle’s head off, and Max died and came back, we called an Uber. The poor guy didn’t seem phased that he was picking us up in the ninth ward, nor did he blink an eye at the sword as Max put it in his trunk, along with the rest of our stuff. Max didn’t even have to use his Jedi stuff on him.

  We got the Uber to take us to a motel just outside the city, a place for us to lay low for a few days while we get things sorted out. Even with Michelle destroyed, we’re still a bit leery about any leftover demons in the city, plus the chance that someone could recognize us from our battle royale on Royal Street. But I guess Max was able to get the hotel to send us what we left behind, which is great.

  “Did you, you know, use your mind magic on the hotel?” I ask, as he pours antiseptic out on a cotton pad. I wince in anticipation of the sting.

  “Actually, no,” he says, “we have to pay for it. And the room now. Guess it doesn’t work over the phone.” He presses the pad down on my arm. Fuck it hurts. I suck in my breath. “Sorry,” he says softly. “You’re being brave.”

  “Oh, now I’m brave?”

  The corner of his mouth curls warmly. “Bravest woman I know.” He gently bites his lower lip, a graveness coming over his face. “Ada, I don’t think I can properly express how grateful I am for all that you’ve done for me.”

  I blush, looking away. “Don’t get all mushy on me now.”

  “I’m not…getting mushy,” he says, dabbing the antiseptic further up my arm. Ow, ow, ow. “I’m just letting you know. You pulled me out again. You didn’t give up on me.”

  “That wasn’t me, Max,” I tell him, as he gazes up at me with soft eyes. “You did that. You came back on your own. Because you chose to. Because you wanted to. All I did was call your name.”

  “That’s not all you did,” he says, voice a hush. “You told me you loved me.”

  I swallow the lump in my throat, my emotions rearing their ugly head. “Because I do love you.”

  From the expression on his face, I’m not sure he believes me. “You weren’t just saying that?”

  I shake my head, placing my hands on his face, smoothing his hair away from his forehead until his eyes fall closed. “I love you. I really do. I think maybe you’re my destiny.”

  A grin slowly spreads across his face and he looks at me, in me, like he sees every single part. And if he can, he’d see there’s no darkness here, only light. Light for him, light for my life, light for everything.

  “Sweetheart, I am so in love with you,” he says, and then kisses me, lips tender and warm and soft and I can feel his love radiating outward. He pulls back. “But that destiny shit is pretty cheesy.”

  I gasp, indignant. “Excuse me?! Remember when I pulled you out of the Veil. You told me I was your destiny. You’re the master of cheese.”

  “Master of cheese?” he says, brows raised, and then he presses the pad down on my skin with extra vengeance. “Another nickname, huh?”

  I cry out softly. “Don’t be a dick.”

  He grins. “Can’t help it sometimes.”

  Then he finishes up the job before wrapping my legs and arms with bandages.

  “There,” he says. “Should help for now. You sure you’re in no pain?”

  I shake my head. “Never felt better.”

  It’s totally the drugs.

  He sits down next to me and I’m immediately crawling over his lap, straddling him, grabbing his shoulders.

  He places his hands at my waist, almost spanning the entire circumference, and lifts me up a little to relieve the pressure. “Your knees,” he reminds me.

  “Like I said, I feel no pain.”

  He lowers me again, and now I’m right on his dick, feeling the severity of his hard-on through his boxer briefs.

  I grind a little on him, making his gaze sharp, his breath hitch.

  “So, what do we do now?” I ask him.

  “Right this second? Are you seriously asking?” His expression is slowly turning carnal.

  “I mean after we fuck,” I tell him, grinning. “What do we do? Fly home?”

  I grind on him a little more, making his lips part.

  “I don’t know, you’re making it hard to think,” he says, his hands gently running up my back. “I still don’t have any ID, and despite what you saw in Vieux Carre, I don’t think I can mind mangle an airline crew.”

  “So we’re renting a car?”

  “I’ll buy one. I have one in mind.”

  “Now I know when you say that, you’re being literal.” I pause. “But what about the demons?”

  “What about them?”

  “What if they follow us?”

  “Well, Michelle, as you call her, is gone, thanks to you.”

  “Yeah, but she came from Hell to get you. Don’t you think others will to
o?”

  He presses his lips together, frowns. “They might. We’ll be ready.”

  “Yeah, but…” I don’t know how to say this delicately. “What if you’re not ready?”

  He gets what I mean. Offers me a faint smile.

  “I’m okay, Ada.”

  I put my fingers at his chin, searching his face. “You know what I saw inside you, don’t you? What you were trying to hide from me. That void. That darkness. That emptiness. That’s depression, Max.”

  “I know,” he says quietly, averting his eyes.

  “You just…gave up. And you knew you would. You knew it would end that way.”

  He gives a small nod, looking ashamed. “I know. But I came back.”

  “Because you were lucky enough to have a second chance on a second chance.” I take in a deep breath. “Listen, I can’t tell you how to live your life, and I know we’ve had different experiences. You’ve probably experienced everything under the sun, and then some, save for animal style french fries from In-N-Out. But, I think you should seriously think about talking to someone about this. Maybe go on medication. Having that emptiness in your soul isn’t good. And it puts a lot of pressure on me to fill it.”

  “I would never expect anything from you,” he says adamantly. “Ever. I know that’s not your job.” He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know who the hell I could talk to though. What psychiatrist would listen to me bitch about centuries of shit? The things I’ve done? No one would understand. I’d be put away for a long time.”

  “Well, actually, the witch who helped pull you out of the Veil is also Perry’s shrink, so I’m going to say she’d be a good option.”

  “Is she now?” he asks.

  I nod. “Mmmhmm. I mean, it was her idea that Dex possess Perry, so I’m gonna say she’s down with the freaky shit. Plus, she already knows you.”

  “All right,” he says after a moment. “Then that’s what I’ll do.”

  “You have to want it, though.”

  “I do want it,” he says, looking right in my eyes, his gaze weighty. “And I want you.”

  “Always?” I tease.

  “Always, evermore, and on and on.”