“Thank God it’s over,” I murmured, trembling as I wrapped my arms around his neck and held on tight. He smelled of sweat and blood and fading anger, and never in my life had I inhaled anything sweeter.
For several seconds he didn’t say anything, just held on tight. In that moment, it would have been very easy to believe I was the most precious thing in his world.
After several minutes more, he shifted back slightly, then lifted my chin with a gentle finger and kissed me.
It was a kiss that was rich and warm, sweet and yet so filled with emotion that it made my heart ache. A kiss that said so much, yet one that left so much more unsaid.
When we finally parted, he brushed my cheek with the back of his hand, then stepped away and said, “I have to go.”
No. Not so soon. It can’t be over so soon. “But your arm is broken. You can’t fly.”
“I can steal a car, and there’s a medical kit in one of the bunk rooms. I can reset broken bones. It won’t be the first time I’ve done it.”
“But—”
He touched my lips gently, silencing me. “It’s not over yet. Hannish still needs to be caught—and now, before he has any chance to run.”
“But the only real evidence we have that Hannish is involved is the land purchase documents. Both Seth and Leon are dead, so they can’t really testify against him.” I hesitated, then added, “And the council isn’t likely to give too much credit to what either Tomi or I say. We don’t matter in their eyes.”
“You matter,” he said, voice gentle and dark eyes suddenly blazing with emotion. “Don’t ever believe otherwise.”
Say the words, part of me wanted to beg. Admit what you feel. But his admitting what he felt was a moot point, so I held my tongue. He was still going to walk away regardless. He’d decided that long before we’d met, and I had no reason to believe anything we’d shared would change that.
Not even the fact that his song rang clear and true in my mind.
“No matter what you might think, the council is not likely to take the word of two draman against that of a king’s heir,” I said softly, “which means it comes down to your word against his.”
“Not so,” Damon said. “Didn’t you wonder why I left you in that fridge, and in Seth’s hands, for so long?”
I studied him, hating the distance he was keeping between us and wishing I had the courage to lessen it myself. But I didn’t want him retreating any farther, and I suspected that’s just what would happen if I did attempt to move closer. “Well, now that you mentioned it, I think I did throw a few curses your way for not riding to the rescue sooner than you did.”
He smiled. “The ability to shadow is not the only reason certain dragons are chosen for this job.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Well, what a surprise. There’s something else you’ve failed to tell me.”
He laughed—a warm, rich sound that sent delighted shivers racing across my skin. “You have no idea just how much I actually have told you. More than anyone else, even my family.”
Maybe he had, but it wasn’t nearly enough, because he wasn’t telling me the most important thing of all.
He wasn’t telling me what he felt.
It didn’t matter that his emotions were evident in his kiss and his touch, or in the way we were so in tune with each other. I still needed to hear those words. Maybe there wasn’t any hope for the two of us, but surely he could just admit what he felt. I wanted to hear it, just once, so the words would keep me warm through the long nights ahead.
That wasn’t asking too much, was it?
But he didn’t say the words and probably never would. For several seconds I had to resist the urge to just turn and run from this man and the heartache that was waiting.
In the end, I simply asked, “So tell me what else muertes can do, and how it will solve the problem.”
His gaze flicked down my body, as if he had been expecting me to say something else. And maybe he had been. It wouldn’t have been the first time he’d sensed what I’d really wanted to say.
But, like me, he held his thoughts back, and simply said, “Muertes can link to broadcasters.”
I raised my eyebrows. “What the hell is a broadcaster?”
“Broadcasting is a psychic skill, and those who have it can telepathically link to several people at once.”
The delay suddenly made all sorts of sense. “Meaning you linked to this broadcaster while hidden in the shadows, and whoever he was linked to heard the whole of it?”
“Yes—both this morning, and when I was questioning Leon. The twelve members of the council heard every word said. Hannish’s fate has already been decided.”
“And now you have to execute that decision?”
“Yes.”
“And afterward?”
He knew what I meant, and brushed his knuckles lightly against my cheek, letting them slide down to my chin. “There is no afterward, Mercy. You know that.”
I stepped back, away from his reach, away from the smell and heat of him. “There’s one other thing you forgot to tell me about muertes, Damon.”
His fingers twitched, as if he were tempted to reach for me again, then he dropped his hand and simply said, “What?”
“You never told me they were cowards.”
“Mercy—”
“Don’t bother,” I cut in, taking another step back and steeling myself against the rising ache in my heart. An ache that pierced like a knife. “You may not be afraid of death, Damon, but you’re sure as hell afraid of life.”
This time he did reach for me, but I slapped his hand away. “Nothing you say or do can alter the truth. You’re walking away to protect yourself, not me. You’re afraid to love because you’re afraid to lose. That’s cowardice, Damon, nothing more.”
“Mercy, that’s not true. What I do—”
“Is an excuse. One you can keep on believing, but don’t expect anyone else to.” I took another step, my eyes stinging with tears I refused to let fall. “Goodbye, Damon.”
With that, I turned and walked away. The air was filled with turmoil—his and mine—but he didn’t move, he didn’t stop me, and I kept on walking.
My dreams might be ashes and my world might be falling apart, but I still had the soul of a friend to save and less than twenty-four hours left to find the point where our car had gone off the road.
That, at least, gave me something to focus on.
I could worry about the rest of it later.
Chapter Fourteen
The air began to hum with power long before the first vestiges of night began to creep through the day. Energy flitted across my skin—little sparks of power that were very visible in the fading brightness that surrounded me. There were ghosts here, too—other souls who’d died along this stretch of road. They were little more than fragile wisps of humanity whose pain, bewilderment, and sorrow infused me, making me want to cry. But there was nothing I could do to help or save them.
They were neither kin nor friends, and the task of saving their souls was not on my shoulders.
I was here to help Rainey move on.
I took a deep breath, drawing in the power of dusk, wishing it had the strength to ease the ache in my heart. But I doubted anything could do that right now.
I studied the horizon, waiting, as the hum of power grew and intensified, and the slivers of red and gold streaked the sky—bright flags of color that heralded peace for Rainey.
As dusk’s energy flooded my body, the power in the air framed the ghosts around me, briefly illuminating their forms, giving them shape if not substance. Tears stung my eyes. Rainey was there somewhere.
“Rainey Carmichael, I call on your soul and your spirit and ask that you stand before me this night.”
My voice was little more than a whisper, but the power surged and danced around me, filling the sunset with its beauty. Wispy fingers of energy stirred amid the gathered ghosts, searching, feeling, until they swirled around one wispy form and urged her forward. Her face was little more than a radiant blur, but I knew it was Rainey. I could feel her—in my heart, and in my soul.