‘You don’t need to protect me.’
His lips thinned. ‘What if I’m trying to protect myself?’
I didn’t believe this, but I did believe that he wouldn’t tell me anything if I kept insisting. I had to change my approach. ‘Then I’ll only ask two questions,’ I said gently. ‘And if you don’t want to answer them, I’ll understand.’
His chin tilted warily. ‘O…kay.’
I took a steadying breath. ‘The last time I ever saw you was here, the day of your father’s funeral. What happened before and after that?’
He shut his eyes tight, perhaps previewing the memory, maybe even censoring it for my benefit. ‘It’s hazy, the memory patchy,’ he whispered. ‘My home was far away. I lived in a filthy, small room. I’d moved there a few years earlier, and I met a man who became my friend. We spent a lot of time together.’ I held my breath—he had to be talking about his move to London to study medicine. ‘I can remember I was sad, struggling. My friend wanted to help, so he introduced me to the pipe. It made the pain go away, but soon I couldn’t live without it. The need for the vapors changed me, and I became desperate. I stole things, hurt people. It went on and on but then my father died, and I found the strength to leave. I didn’t tell my friend I was going. I planned on never coming back.’ He paused, his skin pale. ‘But then at the funeral, I saw you, and there was a boy. I know I did something terrible to him, something unforgivable but I can’t remember what.’ His face creased. ‘It hurt too much, so I went back. Back to my friend, back to the vapors. The end came quickly after that. I was cold, alone and all the time he was there, whispering, telling me to let go. That the pain would ease if I just let go.’ His cold eyes locked on mine. ‘So I did, and that was when I became this.’
I was numb to my core, tears streaming down my face—it was just like Liam.
Aydin slid to the floor. He pulled his knees to his face and wrapped his arms around his legs. He stayed there quiet and still, as remorse smothered my heart. I wanted to let him rest, but with the imminent threat of trackers finding us, I could not afford to waste a second.
‘I’m sorry Aydin, but I have to ask. Do you remember what happened to your wife in the life where we first met?’
His body tensed and his head flicked up. Bitterness curled his top lip, and a flash of fury colored his cheeks. ‘Yes, I remember,’ he growled.
Ice ran through my limbs—he knew it was my fault. ‘I…I am so…’
He cut me off with an open hand. ‘You are not to blame,’ he said, his voice unnaturally deep. ‘I know what happened and I know who was responsible, and it wasn’t you.’ His eyes shone with hate. ‘It was him.’
It pleased me he knew about Samuel’s involvement, but I also couldn’t deny it was my decision. His breathing escalated as he stared into the distance. The memory appeared to inflame a long-buried agony; he threw his palms to his temples, and a loud cry rang out shaking the building.
I covered my ears as small pieces of debris fell from the roof. I was scared the church would collapse.
‘The boy was your son,’ I yelled, trying to distract him. It worked; his howl of anger halted, and wild eyes fell to me. ‘He was so beautiful,’ I continued desperately. ‘And I loved him so much… Just like I loved his father.’
Aydin was panting, it took a while for him to respond. ‘But I hurt him,’ he whispered.
I smiled painfully. ‘No, you didn’t and you never would. You were upset because, until then, you didn’t even know he existed and you thought you’d abandoned him.’
His face went blank. ‘But I…they took away the memory but not the guilt, so I assumed I did something horrible. I’ve spent so long wondering what. Are you sure I did nothing to harm him?’
‘No, you didn’t. You only met him for a few minutes.’
He clenched his fists. ‘My memories are all so malignant. That’s why I didn’t want to talk about them. I don’t know what’s real and what’s not.’
Digging my nails into my palms, my legs ached to move. I wanted to go to him, to hold him. I wrapped my arms around my waist in a lame attempt at self-comfort. ‘That is why we should talk about it, because I can help you see the truth. I shared so many lives with you, and I know the man you were, and the man that you still are. You never hurt anyone, and so many people loved you. You did more good than you will ever know, and enriched more lives than I could ever count, including my own.’
He sat motionless, staring at the floor. It was a long time before he spoke again and when he did, I could barely hear him. ‘Do you think,’ he whispered, his eyes lifting. ‘That you could come a little closer? It would be nice to feel some warmth again.’
The unexpected request tightened the skin on my arms to the point of being painful. I stood up and took a tentative step, assessing his reaction. He didn’t flinch. I edged forward, and he remained still. Step by step, I soon halved the distance between us. Not wanting to push him too far I sat, with my legs crossed. We looked at each other.
‘Is this all right?’ I asked.
He nodded, his breathing harsh but controlled.
We stayed like this for a long time, neither of us spoke, neither of us moved. Several times his face twitched, and his eyes darted, but each time he settled himself.
After a while, his hand lifted, finding a small piece of his fringe to curl around his finger. I instantly recognized this habit from his last life, and this one small gesture brought more joy than I could remember.
He glanced at me as though sensing my happiness. A reluctant smile softened his features. ‘Thank you,’ he whispered.
‘What for?’
‘For giving a part of me back.’
My chin shook as I returned his smile. ‘I didn’t give you anything you don’t already have.’
I saw the shimmer in his eyes before he shook his head and looked towards an open window. ‘It’s a nice day. Would you like to go for a walk?’ he asked.
My jaw went slack with surprise. ‘I…I would love to.’
He stood stiffly opening the heavy door behind him; the sun threw a pillar of light onto the floor. He moved outside, waiting a safe distance away. I followed, inhaling deeply as I stepped into the morning air; I could almost taste the sweet dew drying on the grass. I smiled and looked at him, and my breath caught at the sight of his skin, golden in the sunlight. I ached to touch his face to see if it could possibly be real—it was just too painfully perfect, like a master craftsman had carved him.
He grinned cheekily. ‘You have no idea how beautiful you are, do you?’ His comment set my cheeks on fire. He tilted his head. ‘You have always been this lovely, that, I never forgot.’
We wandered for a while, through the fields, watching cloud shadows flow over the surrounding hills. We talked, we remembered, and we even laughed a few times, but we never got too close. I spoke about the good times in his lives, and he listened, fascinated, often shaking his head in disbelief.
Eventually, we ended up by the river. He settled on the grass and I wanted to tell him about the time we had spent here, but the intensity of emotions made it hard to speak.
I sat down, a short distance away, and he looked at me quizzically. ‘Are you all right?’ I nodded, but his frown deepened. He cleared his throat. ‘I was wondering…in all our lives, did we ever get married?’
The question caught me off guard. ‘Well, no.’
He shifted uncomfortably, and his attention turned to a blade of grass. ‘Oh, it’s just, I thought, maybe…’
‘We should of,’ I interrupted. ‘But I, we…I don’t know how to explain.’ He looked up, and his eyebrows dipped. ‘It’s just,’ I continued. ‘I couldn’t accept what I’d done to you. It stayed with me. Even though I couldn’t remember, I could still feel it. We went very close, in the last life, but I made a mistake, and that mistake, made you what you are today.’ I looked down, I was scratching my nails nervously on my jeans. ‘And I will never forgive myself for that.’
My words were met with silence, and I didn’t even try to stop my tears. A moment later he got up, and I thought he would leave, but he just stood there. I looked at him; he was staring at the water. He stepped sideways, and I froze. His jaw clenched with concentration, and I could see he was fighting himself. He took a few more steps, still not looking at me. He was close now, so close I could have touched him. Closing his eyes, he sat lightly. I could smell that same scent of vanilla and fresh rain. I placed a hand on the ground to steady myself. He opened his eyes, there was conflict, but he was winning. My throat tightened, and I didn’t know if I could restrain myself much longer. My fingers ached to touch his thick dark hair and the curve of his chin. My breathing increased, and I clasped my hands together.
He looked at me with a gentle smile. ‘No matter what happens from this moment on, I want you to know, you have already saved me.’
I smiled back. ‘Regardless, you still owe me at least another day.’
Chapter 19
The shadows were long by the time we returned to the church. It was cold inside, so I created a wood heater. Together we moved some pews to leave a space in the center. I created a small table and two chairs and lay it with lit candles.
I glanced at him hoping to see a smile, but he looked concerned. ‘What’s wrong?’ I asked.
‘I know I was close to you today, but it takes a lot of strength to do that, and I’m not sure I can handle an intimate dinner. I’m sorry.’
I wanted to die from embarrassment. ‘No. I’m sorry. I don’t have to sit with you.’
He winced. ‘It’s not that. I want you near me. Maybe if you could just make it longer?’
‘Of course,’ I replied, and the table transformed into a long rectangle. ‘So what’s your favorite meal?’ I asked to break the awkwardness.
‘I’m happy with anything.’
‘Well, since I’m not eating you might as well choose.’
He laughed lightly, and the sound thrilled me. ‘Can it be anything?’ he asked, almost shyly.
‘As long as I know what it is.’
He nibbled his lip. ‘Roast turkey, like they have at Christmas.’
His request filled me with sadness. ‘Do you remember having a Christmas dinner?’
He shook his head and looked away. ‘Not one of my own, but I’ve seen other peoples’. It looks…nice.’
‘It is nice,’ I replied.
I flicked my fingers towards the table, and a huge roast turkey and endless side dishes appeared.
‘Wow,’ he said, looking at the mountain of food before him. ‘Thank you.’
After dinner, I made a pile of clothes for both of us, and two large comfy chairs by the fire. I also created a four-poster double bed for him to sleep.
‘Think you’ll be comfortable?’ I asked, pleased with my work.
He looked at the huge bed. ‘Is that all for me?’
‘It suits the church,’ I replied hoping he didn’t realize that even though I still couldn’t touch him, the idea of lying next to him did affect my choice.
‘What about you?’ he asked.
‘That’s what the seats are for,’ I said, waving my hand at the chairs by the fire.
‘Will you be comfortable?’
His concern awoke butterflies in my stomach. ‘I will be fine.’
I watched over him the whole night, and once again he was gripped by nightmares. It was awful the way his body contorted, and he cried out. I longed to comfort him, to lay my head on his chest and listen to his heartbeat, but I knew that could prove fatal. I hoped things would be better in the morning, that the progress we had made would only continue. I felt positive about our time together, and I was more confident than ever that I could save him.
It was early when he stirred; I was still in my chair with my feet tucked underneath me. His eyes opened slowly, and I leaned forward ready to say good morning. Suddenly he shot up with a look of complete terror. He saw me and leaped out of bed.
I was so disappointed I could barely speak. ‘It’s okay Aydin,’ I soothed, pulling myself into a tighter ball.
It took a moment for him to control the monster that ruled his instincts. ‘I’m going to go for a swim in the river,’ he muttered, grabbing some jeans and a shirt.
I just nodded too upset to answer.
Left alone, I struggled with my countless frustrations.
‘Focus Callie,’ I whispered to myself. ‘It’s just a small setback.’
As I sat there waiting, I filtered the multitude of questions I still wanted to ask. There was just so many, it was hard to know which to prioritize. I needed to know as much about the lives of dark ones as possible. The building questions escalated till I felt ready to explode.
‘Enough,’ I finally said out loud, before jumping up and heading to the door—I needed a break.
The morning sun held a soft warmth, but a brisk breeze quickly washed it away. I instinctively shivered, imagining poor Aydin in the river—it would be freezing. The thought brought a vision of him swimming shirtless. I crumpled my nose and shook the image from my head.
Walking to the edge of the cliff, I admired the world below. You could see for miles, and I marveled at the patchwork quilt of endless green fields, bordered by hedges and trees. Earth was a stunning place—a magnificent painting turned to reality. It was hard to imagine that it was actually an illusion. I felt a pang of loss for the human simplicity that I had once enjoyed.
I sighed and went back to the church. Strolling around the side, I ran my hand along the rough stones as I went. The soft moss covering their surface, tickled my fingers, and I felt visions of the past reaching out, but I deliberately blocked them. Lost in thought, I didn’t see the hidden trap door till I kicked its edge. I stepped back cursing the pain in my toes—it must have led to a cellar beneath the church. I grasped the iron handle, but then I felt Aydin’s presence. Reluctantly I let go, and after blowing a loose strand of hair from my face, I headed back to the front of the church.
In the distance, Aydin strode through the grass. His hair was wet, and he wore only jeans. His shirt was tossed over his shoulder, and trickles of water glistened on his bare skin. He smiled when he caught sight of me waiting. Putting my hand to my mouth, I bit down on a finger, to stop myself grinning like a fool. He looked like himself again, and my abdomen tightened with delight. I felt bad I’d forgotten to make him a towel, and I made a mental note to give him one if he went swimming tomorrow. As he got closer, I noticed the subtle line of hair running from his navel into his jeans—maybe I could forget to make a towel for just one more day. I giggled quietly before silently chastising myself.
‘That was great,’ he said, sounding genuinely happy. ‘Icy but refreshing.’ I smiled, still a little distracted. He threw his shirt on, and I managed to regain my composure. ‘Shall we go for another walk?’ he asked casually.
‘But what about breakfast?’
‘Maybe I can eat while walking?’ I held out my hand, and a cloth serviette appeared holding a jam-filled croissant. ‘Nice,’ he said reaching for it, but his hand stopped, and he winced as though shocked. His face fell, and his arm dropped.
‘I’m sorry,’ I said putting it down. ‘I didn’t think.’
He looked at me sadly. ‘You shouldn’t have to think, because you shouldn’t be around someone who could hurt you.’
‘We’re not having this conversation again,’ I added, stepping away so he could pick his breakfast up.
He asked a lot of trivial questions as we walked along, which made me suspicious he was avoiding mine.
I let him continue a while longer, but I soon decided it was time to get serious. I skipped in front of him and stopped. He pulled up, looking at me quizzically. The small scar, denting his top lip, was obvious in the clean morning light.
‘You know, you can only delay my questions for so long,’ I said, fighting the intoxication of his gaze.
His happy mood faded, and he looked away. ‘I know. It’s just, it�
��s nice to pretend for a moment that this is normal. That maybe once, I actually had a life where I did things like this.’
His sincerity touched me. ‘This was your life once,’ I replied softly. ‘And it will be again, we just have to work out how.’ He didn’t reply. ‘How do you destroy angels?’ I asked bluntly, knowing I’d already ruined his moment of happiness.
‘I was wondering when you’d ask this,’ he mumbled. I waited. ‘We destroy your hearts,’ he finally admitted.
‘How?’
‘By any means. By crushing them with our bare hands if we must. Don’t you remember, in the alley, how I…’
I struggled to stay calm. ‘Would it work on your leader?’
‘Possibly, but he is constantly surrounded.’
‘By whom?’
Shifting his feet, Aydin looked to the hills. For one awful moment, I thought he might run. He cleared his throat. ‘By his most trusted allies—trackers and other dark ones.’ His attention returned. ‘They maintain order, protect him and…deliver justice.’
‘Could we lure him out?’ His eyebrows drew together, and he shook his head a little too hard. There was something he wasn’t telling me, and I had a good idea what. ‘He would leave to see me,’ I said.
His top lip curled, and a rumble resonated from the depths of his chest. ‘I have told you already. This is not an option.’
‘It might be our only option,’ I replied, standing my ground.
He backed away, his eyes flashing. ‘Let’s say we did this. Let’s say we somehow destroyed him. It wouldn’t matter. His soul would remain unharmed. He’d soon return and unleash his army on us. We wouldn’t last a day.’
‘But there must be a way. You control souls long enough to take them to the place of nothingness. How do you do it?’
The anger faded and his voice softened. ‘We bind them.’
‘You what?’
‘We bind them. To something they know.’ He pinched the bridge of his nose. ‘Newly released souls are confused; they latch onto familiar objects. That is why we take something precious of theirs, just before they die. In their final moments, we show it to them. It is only temporary, but it gives us enough time…to hand them over.’
Guardian Page 20
