by Sarah Fine
Dec was willing to play along. He grabbed a cue and waited, his hands wrapped around its narrow stalk. Once Trevor had the balls in place, he removed the frame and tossed the cue ball at Dec, who caught it. “You can break,” Trevor said quietly.
Dec set the creamy white ball on the table and squared up. The familiar movements were easy, but the lump in his throat was making it hard to breathe. With a crack, the cue ball shot forward into the mass of solids and stripes, scattering them. The 2 careened straight into a corner pocket. “I’ve missed you, man.” He lined up for another shot.
Trevor’s jaw ridged with tension. “Yeah. Me too, Dec.”
Dec took his shot, sending the 3 glancing off a rail. His focus wasn’t exactly on the game. “I need you to tell me what’s been going on. I came here because I want to hear it from you.”
Trevor went to work on the striped balls, taking two shots before he spoke again. “I’ve been a Ker for a long time, man. I’ve done Moros’s bidding for over a hundred years.” He rubbed his hand along his jaw. “And I guess it just wore on me. I’ve been feeling angry about it. I mean, I chose this. I was all shot up, lying on the street, bleeding out, and Moros gave me a choice. Live forever? Sign me up.” He grimaced. “But when I was alive, I killed two people. Now? I’ve killed thousands.”
Dec skimmed his thumb over the chalky tip of his cue. “We’ve talked about this, though. Death is part of life, and you kill as mercifully as you can. And that’s why you’re a paramedic, too, to preserve life.”
Trevor shook his head. “Moros should have left me alone. He made me this. His creature.” The muscles on his shoulders bulged with tension. “I wanted to destroy him,” he growled.
Dec took a wary step back as Trevor’s eyes flashed red. “When?”
“I’d been feeling . . . off. For a few days.” Trevor rubbed his chest, leaving a smear of chalk on his shirt. “Just disconnected and strange.”
“Disconnected.” It reminded him of what Rylan had said about Mandy, how she’d realized she wasn’t tethered to Moros, how she could kill at will without him knowing. “For how long?”
“Not sure. The feeling came and went. Then I got this crazy idea when Eli told me Moros was going to have to go before the Keepers.” He clutched his head between his hands. “At the time, it felt like something I had to do. But now?” He shook his head. “It seems crazy.”
“I just came from visiting Jian Lee’s wife. Does that name ring a bell?”
Trevor nodded. “He was supposed to be Marked. I found him coming out of Galena Margolis’s lab and followed him home.”
“And was Erin with you?”
“You know Erin?” Trevor sighed. “We were hanging out. She was brand-new, and I was showing her the ropes. I don’t know what I was thinking, taking her with me.”
“So what happened?”
“I Marked him right outside his apartment building, but a few seconds after I did, I got that strange feeling again. This was it—my way to get to Moros, maybe the only way—and I was just going to let this opportunity go? I knew Nader and Tamasin were guarding Galena, but if I could stop her research, do so much damage that she couldn’t continue, then the Keepers would destroy Moros. And so I pretended like I recognized Jian. Asked him if he worked for her. At first, Erin thought that was just how Kere do things, I guess. She’s so new. She played along, said she worked in one of the science departments on campus. We shook hands, all friendly.” Trev whistled, a low, melancholy note. “But Jian was almost shaking with hatred for Galena. As soon as introductions were over, he came right out and said she’d ruined his life.”
“And you actually believed that?” Dec snapped, more harshly than he intended. He forced himself to stay calm. “She’s Eli’s sister, Trev.”
Trevor pressed one of his knuckles to his temple and closed his eyes. “I know, man. But in that moment, all I could think about was getting to Moros. After we started talking, Erin realized how crazy I was acting. She was tugging on my arm, pulling me away, but the only thing in my head was revenge. So I asked Jian—if I wanted to destroy Galena’s research, how would I do that? Because the dude was doomed, man. One thought from me and he’d have a stroke. I just figured I’d get some information first.
“He looked shocked, but then he told me Galena Margolis was blackmailing him, forcing him to destroy her lab and anyone who’d had the vaccine. He thought maybe she’d sent me.”
“Didn’t that strike you as odd?”
Trev’s hand fell away from his face. “That night, that moment? I just thought, ‘Great. She’s making it easy for us.’ I didn’t care about her. All I cared about was setting Moros up for a fall.” Trev opened his eyes.
“When you told Jian you’d help him destroy Galena’s work, what did he say?”
“Hell, he invited us inside. He already had the plans. He’d already planted one bomb, even. I said I would help. I figured, the more bodies, the more trouble Moros would be in.” Trevor shook his head, staring at the scattered balls on the pool table. “It felt like justice, man. Pure justice. I remember feeling so sure.” He looked sick. “Sure that killing people not fated to die was the right thing,” he added in a strangled voice.
Dec’s gaze rested on the cue ball. It was too painful to look at Trevor’s face. “Did Erin go along?”
“Nah, she was trying to cool things down. I could tell she was really freaked-out. She kept stroking my arm, whispering to me that Moros would be angry, that he would kill me, but I just couldn’t hear it, not with all the hate I was carrying inside. Then Jian and I started to argue—he wanted me to follow this set schedule he said he had, started making demands like I was his assistant or some goddamn thing. Bullshit. And then the guy’s wife walks in. Probably the only thing that kept me from killing him right there.”
“So you willed Jian to kill himself instead, Trev? That’s not like you.”
“I willed him to live long enough to carry out the plan, and then I wanted him to suffer,” he whispered. “And that’s how it turned out. I was angry, he was angry . . . he was probably wishing the worst for me, too. Erin got between us and pushed us away from each other. I stayed long enough to get the list of research volunteers, and then I was out of there.”
Dec’s blood ran cold. “But all those people, Trevor. The ones working with Galena. Did you kill them?”
“I don’t know why I was so angry, Dec,” he said with a groan. “I’ve been trying to figure it out for days.” His deep-brown eyes became shiny with tears. “Everything made sense. Until it didn’t.”
“What’s happened to you?” Dec muttered.
Trevor stared at him as the tears overflowed. “I’m not that person. I swear. I don’t know.”
“Do you still have that disconnected feeling?”
Trevor shook his head. “After that night, it went away, and I just locked myself in here. The anger faded. Not completely, but enough that now I can’t remember why I ever thought any of it was a good idea. I’ve been sitting here for three solid days, trying to figure out what to do. But now I know.”
Trevor set his cue on the table, then trudged into his kitchen. He returned carrying something in a large plastic bag. With a look of disgust and pain, he tossed it onto the pool table.
The bag contained a knife, its eight-inch blade crusted with dried blood. It lay between them, hard proof of something Dec could barely believe. He let out a shaky breath. “We’re going to figure this out, Trevor.”
“No. There’s nothing to figure out. I want you to take me to Psychopomps. I want to make my confession.” Trevor’s eyes met Dec’s. “And then I want you to summon Moros, so he can put me down for good.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Galena staggered away from Eli as she was hit by a burst of warm air. She stumbled against the bed, still unmade. She forced herself not to lower her face to the pillow and inhale, just to have Dec’s scent in her nose.
When she looked over her shoulder, Eli was watching her. �
�You’re still mortal.”
Galena straightened up and smoothed her fingers over her cheeks, which were hot to the touch. “It hasn’t even been three days.”
Eli’s eyes flickered with red. “Three days during which you could have been killed by anyone.” His lip curled with disgust.
“You didn’t think this would be easy for me, did you? Are you telling me you’re surprised that it’s taking awhile for me and Dec to get through it?”
“No, I’m not surprised. And I’m not mad about that. I’m mad because Dec didn’t tell a soul.”
Anger flashed hot in Galena’s chest. “Don’t blame him for this.”
“Who should I blame then, G? Look at you!” He gestured at the scratch on her forehead. “Did you get that when you were in jail?”
Her fingertips touched the scrape. It was healing. It had never been a serious injury. “No, but, Eli, it could have happened anywhere. I’ve been mortal my whole life. So have you, until recently. And look—both of us are still standing!”
He shook his head. “It seems like half the supernatural world wants to kill you these days, G, and I thought we’d found a way to protect you. I thought Dec would protect you.” His face twisted with rage, and he turned away. “Obviously, I was wrong.”
“Dec has done everything he could,” snapped Galena. “He owes us nothing, and yet time and time again, he’s saved me. He puts himself between me and any danger. He’s doing it right now!”
Eli went still. “What exactly is he doing?”
Galena let out a frustrated breath. “We were trying to find who was really responsible for the bombings and the killings. We know Jian did it under extreme duress, and we also know that I’ve been set up. We went to visit Jian’s widow, and she told Dec something. I’m not sure what.” She frowned, recalling how upset Dec had looked when he returned to the Veil after talking to Mei Lee. “We had thought it was Luke, but—”
“Luke the Ker?” Eli turned around again. “Has he threatened you?”
She shook her head. “But he summoned me to guide a soul. He really seems to hate me. And Dec was concerned that he didn’t seem surprised I was a Ferry. Then we were attacked by Shades—”
“You were attacked by Shades? Why the hell didn’t you tell me?”
“We were handling it!” Galena blinked. We. She and Dec were a we. She wished they were together right now. “I’m fine.”
“No thanks to Dec. He should have told me, so that I could make sure you were guarded. Anyone could have gotten to you.”
“But no one did. They found another way to neutralize me, Eli—they framed me for murder. And Dec is helping me clear my name. I have a feeling he’s risking more than he’s willing to tell me.”
Eli looked away, but Galena caught the flicker of knowledge in his eyes. “What?” she asked.
He sighed. “Aislin is threatening to revoke his status if he doesn’t turn himself—and you—in.”
Galena’s stomach dropped. “Revoke his status? Is that like disowning him?”
Eli nodded. “Cacy said it would make him a regular human.”
Dec hadn’t told her that. He really was risking everything. “He should never have agreed to Claim me,” she said in a choked voice. “I should never have said I wanted him.” Her eyes met Eli’s. “And you should never have talked to him about it. We did this to him, Eli. He didn’t need to get involved.”
“He was already involved, G. The last thing Patrick Ferry said to Dec before he entered the Afterlife was that Dec should protect you. He’s honoring a promise to his father.”
Suddenly, it all made sense. His dedication, his determination . . . his tenderness. He was doing all of it to fulfill his dead father’s last wish. “Oh,” she whispered. “That makes everything clearer.”
“It doesn’t explain why he didn’t call for more protection. We all thought you were safe. Immortal. But—”
“Again, not his fault, Eli,” she said, suddenly tired. She sank down on the bed.
Eli came a few steps closer. “What happened?” His voice had lost that edge of accusation and melted into pure worry.
“He tried,” she said, her throat closing around the words. “And I tried, too. But I just couldn’t . . . and he wouldn’t . . .” She lowered her face into her hands. “Every time he gets too close to me, these images just plow through my head. I can’t control them.”
Eli sat down next to her. “Of that night, you mean. You remember.”
“I try not to!” she cried, tears trickling between her fingers. “I push the memories away with everything I have, Eli, but they just keep coming. It’s not fair. Especially not to Dec.”
“Dec? What about you?”
Galena sniffled as she recalled what Dec had done for her, the way he’d made her climax, then disappeared into the bathroom. Because it was his problem, he said. Because she shouldn’t have to worry about it. “He’s too honorable for his own good,” she muttered.
“Glad to hear it,” Eli growled.
Her hands fell away from her face. “I don’t know how to get through this. And Dec refuses to consummate our bond until I do, because he says it makes him feel . . . bad. Because of me, Eli. Because of how I respond.”
He touched her temple. “Those memories are holding you hostage.”
She looked up at him as he brushed a tear from her cheek. “Do you ever think about that night?”
His eyes were steady on hers. “Every day. Every single day.”
“How can you bear it?” she whispered.
“It was nearly impossible at first,” he said quietly, tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear. “I didn’t handle it well.” He cleared his throat and stared at her hands, upturned in her lap like she was begging the sky for answers. “But over time, I guess I’ve gotten used to it, as terrible as that sounds.”
It didn’t sound terrible; it sounded impossible. “Are you saying the memories don’t . . . don’t ambush you? Like if you see something that reminds you of that night?”
“It’s never pleasant to think about that night, G. But I control when I think about it, and if recollections come into my mind at a time I’m not expecting it, I feel that pain, but it doesn’t take me down.”
She shook her head in disbelief. “Sometimes I feel like I spend all my energy keeping the memories at bay. Like I have nothing left because it takes so much work. But still, the memories are stronger than I am. They win. Every time.”
He tilted his head, his gaze fond. “Remember what Dad used to say when I was stuck on a homework problem?” He chuckled. “I know he didn’t have to say it to you, because you never got stuck, but—”
“He’d say, ‘The issue isn’t with the problem—it’s with the strategy. Try to tackle it in a different way.’” It had seemed so basic and obvious at the time. Of course that’s what you needed to do to solve a complex problem.
So why had she been clinging, for two years, to a strategy that obviously wasn’t working?
Because the idea of letting those memories break free, really letting it all come back, was utterly terrifying. If it meant being able to control them, though, wouldn’t it be worth it?
She reached for Eli’s hand, and he met her halfway, squeezing her fingers. “What do you remember?” she asked.
“I was happy that night. I remember that. For the first time since Mom and Dad died. You and I had just been to see a movie in that restored theater.”
“‘Experience the twentieth century!’” she said in a deep voice, remembering the slogan on the marquee. She put a hand to her stomach. “My belly hurt from laughing so hard.”
“And we were walking back to your apartment. I was hoping your roommate would be home.”
She chuckled. “Yeah, you had a crush on her.” Jeannette had liked Eli, too, she recalled. But Galena had never returned to that apartment after the attack, and she’d never seen Jeannette again.
Eli’s other palm pressed over hers, completely enveloping her hand. �
��They came out of a bar and walked toward us.”
Galena’s heart began to bump against her ribs. “I smiled at them. I was in such a good mood. And they smiled back.” She had regretted it every day since.
“It wouldn’t have mattered if you’d given them the finger, G. As soon as we passed, they started following us.”
“I had no idea.” She only remembered them stepping in front of her and Eli, blocking the way.
“I did,” he said, apology in every word. “I hoped they would leave us alone. I didn’t want to scare you.” He paused for a moment. “They waited until we walked down that side street. I was hoping we could lose them. It was the exact wrong thing to do.”
She leaned against him. “You can’t blame yourself.”
“I will always blame myself,” he said in a gravelly voice. “They grabbed me first.”
Galena’s skin went cold, and her breathing became shallow. “You screamed at me to run.”
“But you tried to help me instead,” he said bitterly.
She laid her head on his shoulder, his body heat bleeding through his clothes. “I would never have left you there. I couldn’t. Not that it did any good.”
“There were five of them,” Eli said, his voice hushed now. “But I thought we had a chance.”
“You knocked one of them out.” Her eyes were shut tightly. She began to shake.
“Breathe, G. Slowly.”
She nodded, drawing in a lungful of air and holding it, then letting it out. “One of them started to shock you. With the baton.”
His arm tensed against hers. “The other tried to hold me. And the other two grabbed you. One had a knife.”
Her stomach turned and she bowed forward, saliva filling her mouth. “Eli—”
“I saw them take you down. I saw them yank your skirt up.” Black spots floated in front of her vision. Eli put his hand on her back. “They’re memories, G. They can’t hurt you now. I’m right here. And so are you. You’re here and alive. You got through it.”
