vampire Families, but with the Halfies? They’ve always been outsiders, hunted by us, and treated like shit by the Bloods. It makes sense that they’d try for a power shift, if they made out good on the deal.”
“I’ve considered that, too. It certainly puts Ash and Jesse’s deaths into perspective. The Triads are too busy chasing you to see what else is happening.”
“Something still doesn’t make sense.”
He tilted his head. “What’s that?”
“Me.”
“What do you mean?”
“They could have picked any Triad to attack, Wyatt, but they chose yours. They chose me. Kelsa said someone was paying a lot of money for me, but not in the way I assumed. Whoever wanted me paid her to do what she did, and to ensure that you were the one who found me. But why? All they had to do was kill me and hide my body. You would have kept the Triads looking for me for days or weeks until I was found. Why set it up the way they did?”
“I don’t know. I really wish I did, but I don’t. And it isn’t the only thing that doesn’t add up.”
“Like why keep you down here, alive, and not torture you?”
He quirked an eyebrow. “Are you advocating violence against my person now?”
“No, jackass, just a logical ordering of events. They killed Wormer and Tully this afternoon while they were capturing us. Shot them dead. But they used tranqs on us. Why do they want me alive?”
Aggravation mounting, I stood up on shaky legs and started pacing the narrow length of the cell. Confusion, anger, and remnants of despair all bubbled up through my mouth before I could censor myself. “Why the fuck did you bring me back, Wyatt? Why didn’t you just let me rest in peace? Hell has to be better than this.”
He wilted in front of me—every bit of light, every scrap of fight in him fled. I didn’t regret the words. I only hated that they were true, and how precisely they reflected my feelings. Overwhelmed and frustrated, I took it out on my only available target—a man who’d given up everything for me.
“Why?” I grabbed the bars separating us. He had to say it. I had to hear it.
He retreated to the corner of his cell, as far from me as he could get. Worse still, he turned his back. I had no way to make him face me. He couldn’t disappear behind a bathroom door, but he could still escape.
My knuckles ached. I loosened my death grip on the bars—a wall that might as well have been solid rock. I was livid, but not at him. I was furious at myself for not mounting the rescue I’d hoped for. For failing at the happily ever after he so desperately needed to believe in.
“I really am a self-centered prick, aren’t I?” he asked. His tone was so mild I thought it was a rhetorical question. He turned his head, showing me his profile and nothing else. “Aren’t I?”
“You’re not a prick,” I said. “A little selfish, but not a prick. Hell, you did what you thought was right. You need to know what I know.”
His profile disappeared. He grasped the bars in front of him. Tension thrummed through his shoulders and back. “I convinced myself that was the reason. I convinced everyone, even you.”
Nausea struck me so hard and fast my knees buckled. Only my hold on the bars kept me standing.
“Now I’m not so sure anymore.”
“I knew something.” I repeated words I’d been told and believed to be true. “I had information we needed about the alliance.”
“I hoped you did.”
“Wyatt, stop!”
“I told myself that was why, that I wasn’t bringing you back because it hurt too much to lose you. That a lifetime without free will wasn’t worth three more days with you. That wasn’t good enough. I had to do it for the right reasons, you know. For them, not for us.”
Rage rippled through me. My skin flushed. My hands continued to shake. “You bastard! Do I know something, Wyatt? Do I?” My voice grew louder, angrier, and he flinched away. “Do I fucking know anything, or was remembering it all for nothing? Did I just relive the torture and the goddamn rape for nothing?”
“You never should have lived it the first time.”
“That’s not a fucking answer!”
“I don’t have one for you, okay?” He finally turned. Color suffused his face. His eyes sparkled, but no tears fell. “I don’t think I remember the truth anymore, Evy. I’ve been sitting here for hours with nothing but time, and I can’t seem to think straight. I don’t know the difference between what I told myself and the actual truth. It doesn’t seem to matter anymore.
“I know you don’t love me, and that’s probably the worst of my crimes. I betrayed your trust, Evy. I had no right.”
He looked so lost, like an abandoned child. Compassion had never been my strong suit, but even furious as I was at his deceptions, I found myself reaching for understanding. Intention did not outweigh the cost of what he’d given up for me. I had easily accepted the notion of him sacrificing his free will—becoming a slave to Tovin’s own will—in order to serve a nobler cause; I had trouble with the idea that he’d done it all for three days with me. I wasn’t that special. I wasn’t worth the price tag.
“I don’t understand,” I said. “How can you still be in love with me? With this person? I’m not the same as I was before.”
“It’s not about hair color or height, Evy; it’s about what makes you who you are. The spirit of you. Your memories and the way you talk and your ability to swear like no one I’ve ever met. They’ll never change, no matter what the outside package looks like.”
The physical mattered less to him than the emotional and intellectual. The former was a bonus; the latter the only thing he needed. So why was I struggling with the reverse problem? My new body wanted more from him than I was emotionally prepared to accept.
“I think you’re wrong,” I said. “I think a little bit of Chalice is still inside of me, and that I’m different than I was.” My unusual connection to the magical Breaks was proof enough. Bits of her were leaking into my personality, including her friendship with Alex. “I think you want me to be exactly the same, because it’s what you hoped for. Just like me knowing anything pertinent to stopping this alliance is what you hoped for. But hope has no basis in fact.”
“Fine.” He held out his hands, palms up and open, empty. Defeated. “What do you want me to say, Evy? I made a huge mistake. I did the wrong thing for the right reasons, and now we’re both getting burned for it. Is that what you want to hear? That this is all my fault?”
“That’s not what I want, you asshole.” I slammed my palm against one of the bars. It reverberated up my arm and shoulder. I held tightly to the pain.
“Then what?”
“I want to live, goddammit!”
The words flew out of my mouth unfettered—so unexpected I found myself stunned to silence. Had that been it all along? More than uncertainty over Wyatt’s motives, much more than not knowing if I had anything useful to contribute by regaining my memories, was I angry about my lack of time? Angry that I had forty-ish hours left to live? I couldn’t bargain for more time. I couldn’t prevent my window of opportunity from closing.
Yes, everything in me screamed against going quietly into that supposed good night. Training told me to fight, to find any possible alternative to death. Only, the deck was stacked and the dealer had all the aces. I didn’t even have a wild card. I had nothing, except the keen sting of helplessness over my current situation and my impending doom.
“I want to live,” I whispered. I pressed my back against the bars and slid to the floor, metal hard on my back and cement cool against my bottom. My anger was gone. All I had left was sorrow. I pushed it away. I could not give in.
Denim rustled. Cool hands brushed my shoulders. I didn’t pull away, too electrified by the gentle gesture. He squeezed tense muscles, and I relaxed into the impromptu massage. Bitter tears stung my eyes, but did not gather or spill.
“Dying wasn’t so bad the first time,” I said. “I clung to you when things got really bad. I never stopped believing you’d come for me. It was easier, because of our happy ending. Easier to believe in a rescue.”
“I tried so hard to find you.”
“I know.” I reached back and threaded my fingers through his, so strong and cool. “But now everything in me
