“You think one must be a Darling to be ruined by love?” He laughs, the merry sound so at odds with the skeletal mask he wears. “You wear your biggest weakness outside of yourself, Nikolas.”
Peter licks his lips, and I dig my fingers into my thighs to keep from lunging for him; to keep from tearing out his throat, no matter whether it kills him or not. “I will admit, you were always the most complex of my kin. So impervious to pain, you wore it like some kind of armor.”
His magic pulses in his chest, and with an irreverent wave of his hand, an image of Willa appears between us. I know it is only an echo—know, because no matter how active Peter’s imagination, even it cannot come close to recreating the brilliance of Willa’s colors—but the sight of her unsettles me all the same.
“But now…now you aresoeasy to disarm. Her ruin will be yours, and I will revel in the unraveling.”
Willa’s echo stares through me, bleak and defeated. A waif of herself, drained of everything she is.
“I don’t even need my magic to keep Willa with me for eternity, as I have wound her shame so tightly around her, she doesn’t even feel the pieces of her humanity she gives up day after day. She’s already so…close.”He hums the word with a pleasure that sends bile barreling up my throat. “So close to laying herself down before me, and giving me everything she thinks she doesn’t deserve.”
My hand spasms, the painful tremor upending the barrel of the revolver. Agony slices through me as my death shreds through the air, yanking on my heart.
“Soon, she will be nothing…nothing but mine to play with. To torture. To love. And you, King of Rot…I will keep you alive to witness how I fill every bit of her emptiness.”
Hetsksin false pity, stepping behind the false Willa and pressing himself against her with relish. I memorize the way it looks, imprinting it behind my heart where all my deepest revenges live.
I do not forgive. I do not forget. I will always burn with it.
I will burn him with it, too. Even if it takes me an eternity. Even if it ruins world after world. I will tear him apart piece by piece.
He licks the side of Willa’s throat. “How foolish of you to believe you could hold on to anything alive, when death has no companion. You began this world alone and so you will remain. For eternity.”
Before I can respond, Peter’s eyes suddenly roll backward. His body loosens at once, like his bones have turned to jelly, and he falls to the floor with an ungracefulthwump.The ghost of Willa winks out, along with his malevolent shadow.
I blink at his unconscious form stupidly for a few long seconds, when a familiar voice says, “Star above, I forgot how unbearable his affinity for hearing his own voice is.”
I whip around to find Sam shadowed in the doorway. His shoulders are nearly as wide as the frame, and the whites of his teeth glow in the dim light as he shoots me a grin. “Sorry to interrupt, sir. But you know how I hate overblown monologues.”
There is no thought to the way I move toward Sam, nearly tripping over Peter’s body in my haste. My ribbons spread wide in the air above me as I grip my friend’s shoulders with gloved hands, and squeeze as tightly as I can. It is all I can do to convey how full my heart feels at his nearness; all I can manage, to impart just how much I missed his presence.
Suddenly, I hate my magic so fiercely I think I’ll combust with it, for it isn’t fair the universe gave me someone like Sam but stole my ability to embrace him; to reassure the panic and fear and loneliness of the last few months; to express what it means to me that he is always here in my worst moments.
But Sam understands me without words or touch, just as he always has. He dips his head, his deep brown eyes shining. “I missed you, too.”
For a brief, beautiful moment, I inhale a breath and there is no pain. My lungs expand like there is no weight pressing against them; no burden squeezing them like a vise.
“How did you know I was back?” I ask, my voice uneven with emotion.
He shrugs. “I read you all over Willa.”
“Ah.”
“Not that I needed to. No one else would be stupid enough to push her into a lake.”
“I seem to do a lot of stupid things when I’m near her.”
Sam chuckles, striding past me to nod at the Aeternalis’ unconscious form. “I take it you can’t kill him again.”
My mouth twists in annoyance. “What would give you that impression, Sammy?”
“The lack of his bloating corpse was my first hint,” he replies dryly. “What do you want to do with him?”
Sam’s magic brushes against me, like its drawn to the unsettled beat of my heart and the sharp prick of my skin.
“Tie him up and keelhaul him. Then sink him in the sea. Recovering should keep him occupied for at least a few days, while I figure out how to kill him permanently.”
I expect Sam’s dissension for the barbarity of the order, but he only nods. Perhaps Sam’s empathy only extends to those who possess the capability themselves.
