Relief hit her. “Thank heavens. Where is he? I must go to him.”
“Forgive me,” her brother-in-law said softly, his countenance softening with sympathy. “But he does not want to see you.”
“Surely not. That cannot be.” She searched Dom’s dark gaze. “I know what he said before, but he did not mean it, I am certain.”
“He is adamant.” Dom paused then, raking his fingers through his hair in a gesture that suggested he was not as calm as he outwardly seemed. “In his state, I think it best not to cause him any further upset. He has asked that you return home.”
“Without seeing him?” The despair she had been barely keeping at bay for hours returned, fiercer than ever. “Without speaking with him?”
“It is what Devil wishes,” her brother-in-law said.
She closed her eyes for a moment, feeling dizzy. The combination of the extreme emotions she had experienced over the last few hours along with her refusal to take sustenance was finally having an effect upon her.
Theo did not want her here.
He was pushing her away, resurrecting all the walls keeping them apart once more. Why? Did he truly believe she could not be happy sharing her life with him? Did he fear the potential for danger? Or was it merely a more painful truth—that he was not in love with her?
A strong hand steadied her. But it was not the hand she wanted.
“Lady Evie?” Dom’s voice prodded. “Are you well? You look pale.”
Inhaling slowly, she opened her eyes, hating the pity she saw reflected on her brother-in-law’s face. “I am as well as I can be. Will you…will you tell Theo I wish him well?”
Her voice broke on the last word, as the possible finality of this moment hit her. Theo had not died today, but he intended to disappear from her life just the same.
For now, she had no choice but to let him.
Chapter Thirteen
The pain wasscorching. Searing. Intense.
He was dwelling in some manner of hell. That had to be the answer for it. He was hot. Aflame. Burning alive. Devil had never known such agony, such acute misery.
But through it all, there was something, a presence, a lightness. And somehow, he knew that presence was her.
Evie.
He tried to say her name, but all he managed was a croak.
A soft, soothing voice reached him. A cool cloth bathed his brow.
And then he surrendered to the darkness once more.
He was drowningin a sea. Struggling to stay afloat, to paddle to the distant shore. But his shoulder was weak and painful. His left arm hung limply. Would he ever be able to use it again?
The mocking laughter echoed all around him.
He recognized the sound of that bitter cackle, that voice. The scent. Blue ruin.
The woman who had given him life had always stunk of it.
By the end, it had stolen her looks and robbed her of life. Her eyes had been dull and lifeless, cold as her heart when he had seen her shortly before her death. She had come to ask him for coin, of all things. And Devil, stupid sod that he was, had given her some. Enough to keep food in her belly, to give her a roof over her head. But instead of spending it on such worthy necessities, she had used it to procure more spirits. The last penny he had ever given her had been poured down her throat.
“Stupid,” she whispered, the taunt turning into a chant. “Stupid, stupid, stupid.”
The dream shifted, changed.
He was no longer in the sea but at The Devil’s Spawn.
