the bed.
“Please don’t let him come,” he said as, defeated, he fell back. “I don’t want him to see me like this.”
You should have thought of that before, I thought. But he looked so hurt and dejected I couldn’t bring myself to say it.
“He left already,” I said instead. “When the nurse told him he couldn’t see you until tomorrow.”
Becquer sighed in relief, then again his face tightened. “Does he think I’m a coward?”
“No. He blames me.”
“You?” Becquer frowned, then nodded when I told him why. “I’ll talk to him.”
“Of course, you will,” I said, frustration and despair spilling into my voice. “And when do you plan to do that, before or after you kill yourself?”
“Touche. I’m sorry, Carla. I really am. But I told you, I have no choice.”
“Yes, you have. Federico spoke to the Elders tonight. Cesar lied to you. The Elders sentenced you to be human, not to death. To be human, not paralyzed.”
He closed his eyes.
I touched his hand with my fingers. “Becquer — ” I started. Whatever I was about to tell him I forgot when I met his eyes for there was so much hope in them. So much despair. I leaned down and kissed his lips.
Becquer did not respond. I moved back.
“Don’t play with me, Carla.” His voice was cold. His face unreadable.
“I’m not playing.”
“I overheard the nurse talking to you. I heard her asking you to pretend you love me.”
“You think my kiss was a lie?”
Becquer said nothing.
“You’re wrong, Becquer. Besides, what the nurse said does not apply anymore. You will not be paralyzed for long. Nor human for that matter. Once you tell the Elders what really happened the day Beatriz became immortal, Federico is certain the Elders will reverse your sentence.”
“They won’t. Because I did change her, and I’m taking full responsibility for it.”
I frowned. “But that’s not true. Why should you — ”
Becquer’s face hardened into a mask, but for a brief moment his eyes met mine, and, as they did, an image jumped to my conscious mind: the image of Beatriz holding Ryan over the dam and of Becquer facing her. And I knew, as clearly as if I had heard their words what the pact between them had been.
“You promised her,” I said, and my voice came out broken, almost unrecognizable. “You promised Beatriz you’d take responsibility for her change if she let Ryan go.”
It wasn’t a question. Had it been, his silence would have been answer enough.
“I cannot, I will not, let you take the blame.”
“I’m afraid it’s not your decision, Carla. You were not there. You have no proof.”
“I may not have proof, but now that you’re human you cannot lie to the immortals anymore, for they don’t need your permission to search your mind. Federico we’ll have no problem learning the truth.”
Becquer swore and I knew I had won because he changed his tactic.
“Carla, you don’t understand.” His voice that had been hard before was now pleading. “I gave her my word. If I break it, Beatriz will not abide by her promise and Ryan will be in danger again. Not only him, your daughter — ”
“Madison,” I supplied my daughter’s name automatically.
“Madison will be in danger too.”
I hesitated for a moment. Fear for my children weighed against my responsibility to make things right for Becquer.
“I have to tell the truth. I can’t let you take the blame for something you didn’t do.”
“You said your kiss was not a lie, Carla. This is your test. If you care for me you will respect my wish.”
“I can’t.”
“So I was right. You don’t care for me. Or maybe you did. You cared for me when I was immortal. Not for this broken human I have become.”
“You’re wrong.”
“Prove it to me then. Stand by me. Don’t tell Federico about my pact with Beatriz. Convince him he can’t tell the Elders what happened between us.”
“But — ”
“Carla, listen. I’ve lived for a long time. Your children haven’t. They deserve to live more than I do. Besides, you saved my life. I owe you.”
I sighed.
“All right, I’ll support your decision.”
“Thank you, Carla. So maybe it’s true you care for me a little.”
His voice was light and teasing and his eyes were asking me to come closer. But I couldn’t move. I felt dirty. I had agreed to Becquer’s request in order to save my children’s lives, but, deep down, I knew it was wrong. If the Elders knew the truth they would allow Becquer to be immortal. But if I didn’t tell them, he would remain human and, maybe even, paralyzed.
“It’s all right.” Becquer said, serious now. “I understand you won’t want to stay with me under these circumstances.” Briefly, his eyes moved to his legs, then without a hint of self-pity, held mine again. “You owe me no explanation.”
“Of course I want to stay with you,” I said, angry for letting my silence give him the wrong impression. “I love you, Becquer. Your present circumstances are of no importance to me. I’ll stay with you as long as you’ll have me.”
Becquer stared at me for a long time. “Do you really mean it?”
“I do.”
Bending over, I kissed him again.
This time his lips opened as they touched mine, and, just before I closed my eyes, I saw myself on his black pupils, dark mirrors reflecting my soul as it met his own. His lips were soft and warm, inviting yet demanding, his kiss both pleasure and pain. I wanted to scream and I wanted to die. I wanted this kiss never to end and I wanted to flee for I was scared of losing myself, of forgetting everything I’d ever been, or was, or planned to be. Yet, I didn’t mind. I didn’t care if I ever had a thought but this: That he was mine and I, his, this moment and every moment. He and I but one, a single soul. Forever.
“Carla” he said when we at last parted. “Could you — ?”
“Kiss you once more?”
He smiled. “That too. But first could you untie me?”
I considered his request. They had bound him so he would not kill himself, but now that he knew the Elders didn’t want him dead, he wouldn’t try again, would he?
“Should I trust you?”
Becquer smile widened. “I’ll be a gentleman. I promise.” The mischief he infused into his words, made me believe, at last, that he would fight to stay alive.
Becquer flexed his arms when I finished, disregarding the UV tubing attached to his left hand.
“Be careful.” I reached over the bed to stay the tubing that swung wildly.
Becquer winced.
“Sorry. Did I hurt you?”
He lay back and shook his head.
But I knew he was lying because his eyes were full of pain. “Seriously, Becquer, how do you feel?”
Becquer shrugged. “The truth?”
I nodded.
“If you were not with me,” he said, with a deprecatory smile, “I would think I had died and gone to hell.”
“Maybe you have,” I teased him. “Maybe, like Sartre claimed,
“No. You’re not, that I know for certain. Although, once upon a time, my private hell did have a woman’s
