“You were going tokillme, Murmur.” To his dismay, her voice shook slightly. “I just can’t believe that you would—After everything we went through …”
“I know.” His own voice felt tight. “I tricked myself into thinking I felt nothing. I’d gotten so good at sealing parts ofmyself away, I didn’t even realize what I was doing anymore. I’ve never cared about anything before. I suppose I didn’t recognize the feeling until it was too late.”
And that was the truth, he realized. He straightened and stared at her, and the realization hit him in the most painful, obvious way.
She was the most important thing in his life. She was more important than any spell, any foreseen future. She mattered more than the fate of all Hell. He would give up anything for her, would do anything to have her, to make her happy, to make her want to stay with him. She was the greatest thing to ever happen to him, in all his immeasurably long life.
But the terrible irony was that he hadn’t realized any of that until he’d committed the unforgivable. The thought of what he’d almost done made him feel sick now. He was appalled he’d even considered it.
But he hadn’t just considered it—he’dtriedto do it. Some part of his conscience he’d been blocking out had resisted, but that didn’t excuse his actions.
He’d once wondered how it was possible that he had evolved a soul when he’d maintained his selfish, apathetic existence, but he understood now. The part of him that excelled at compartmentalizing his own mind had simply taken that newfound conscience and sealed it in a vault. It had been there all along—it was the very reason he’d developed feelings for Suyin in the first place—but he hadn’t been aware of it because he’d closed himself off from it.
But now, with his head free of the screams, his mind quiet for the first time, he sensed it there, waiting, existing silently. He couldn’t ignore it any longer. He wouldn’t be able to ignore it ever again. And that was more than a little troubling when he contemplated the life he had to go back to.
“Suyin, I need you to understand,” he began. “I feel everything now. I can’t hide from myself, and I know that I lo—”
“It doesn’t matter,” she cut in. “I get why you did what you did. I’m angry, but I get it. But I don’t trust you anymore. I can’t ever trust you again. And there’s nothing you can say that will change that.”
“I’ll swear a vow. I’ll vow on my blood never to harm you, never to lie or withhold—”
“Stop.” She lowered the blanket and held up a hand. “It doesn’t matter if you swear a thousand vows because that’s not how trust works. You shouldn’t need an unbreakable blood contract to trust someone. The very nature of needing one proves you don’t. And besides, I don’t trust you not to find some hidden loophole and exploit it the moment it conveniences you.
“Maybe, if you’d just lied to me or done something else … I could have let it go. But you were going tokillme, and I can’t—” She shook her head. “That’s just not something I can forget.”
“Suyin …” He understood her perfectly. He didn’t blame her in the least. And yet he felt like his entire world was crumbling, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.
“Besides, you and me?” Her lips curved briefly, but her eyes remained sad. “We were never going to work out. You’re a demon with a whole-ass kingdom in Hell. And I may be half demon, but my life is on Earth. You hate even thinking about shifting to human form. There’s no place for us in each other’s worlds.”
He wanted to tell her that he would shift to human form and never shift back if it meant she would forgive him, but he didn’t. Because pathetic though his understanding of emotion was, even he knew that it wouldn’t be enough to regain her trust.
In fact, as someone who’d never trusted another in all his life, he understood very well why she couldn’t trust him again. And he understood why she couldn’t let him near her.
Before, she had allowed it because of their bargain. She’d believed herself safe from him, she’d trusted in the vow to protect her. Now, that illusion had been shattered, and no matter how much she might have enjoyed his company, she would never believe herself safe with him again.
And that washisfault. His burden to bear.
He wished she’d left him dead. Coming back to life, being given a second chance, only to find this reality, was a form of Hell all to its own.
He opened his mouth to tell her he was sorry, that he would spend the rest of his immortal life regretting what he’d done, but a banging on the door snagged both their attentions.
“Are you expecting anyone?” Murmur asked, a tingle of foreboding racing down his spine.
“No,” Suyin replied, and another round of furious pounding rattled the door on its hinges.
Murmur rose slowly. His gaze caught on a sharpened dagger, on a table across the room, obviously used in the resurrection spell that was still inscribed on the floor. He grabbed it and approached the door.
He didn’t even make it to the entranceway before it exploded inward, revealing a very tall, very furious blond man with hellfire in his eyes.
“Surprise, motherfucker,” he said, and then he charged.
TRAILBLAZING
MURMUR THREW THE KNIFE IN HIS HAND.
It hit the charging demon right in the center of his chest. His steps faltered and he staggered into the wall. Behind him, Murmur heard Suyin cursing.
Belial only faltered a moment. He reached up and ripped the knife right out of his sternum, and then he chucked it right back at Murmur. Murmur dodged, but he wasn’t fast enough. It sank into his shoulder, in the soft tissue between his upper arm and pectoral muscle.
