He stares like I’m a mirage. Disbelief stands beside him—the sight of the Emotion confirms that Nightmare is dead, and I feel the faintest sense of relief. Disbelief nods in greeting; he’s a tall, skinny being with pinched lips and a skeptical light in his eyes.
“Elizabeth?” Joshua says in a whisper. When I just stand there, shifting from foot to foot, his expression breaks into a smile, his relief so evident it causes a twinge in my chest. So many Emotions. I think of how peaceful it is for those without the ability to see it all.
Then, as quickly as he was happy to see me, Joshua becomes furious. “Where the hell have you been?” he shouts, dropping his shovel. Two quick steps, and then he reaches out and shakes me. “Why haven’t you called me back? You were gone for, like, two days! Charles went out of his mind! And then when we found your truck abandoned on the side of the road, we thought you ran away or had even been kidnapped. The sheriff—”
“I’m sorry,” I say tonelessly. “I’m fine. I only came back to tell you goodbye.”
Joshua’s arms drop to his sides like I’m diseased. “What?” he says hoarsely.
I just shrug, as if I don’t care. Wrong move. Joshua clenches his jaw and grabs me again. “Oh hell no,” he snaps. “You’re not going to be this stupid. I won’t let you. You’re seventeen, and you have nowhere to go. If you won’t think of me, think of your brother. Charles cares about you—”
He’s not understanding me. This goodbye isn’t because I’m leaving; it’s because I’m already gone. I have to cut this bond, now. “I’m one of them,” I say, sharp now. Joshua jerks back. I don’t give him time to react. “I’m not human,” I say. “I’m not like you. You’re weak, and this would never work, not that I even want it to.”
Joshua flinches as if I’ve slapped him and his expression is hurt, still angry. I try not to cringe. His jaw works some more, and he just stares at me for what seems like hours.
Suddenly Joshua’s gaze narrows and he raises his brows in challenge. “Really?” he snaps back. “So you’re just a heartless bitch, right? That’s the story you’re sticking to? Okay then. Let me hold you while you remember everything we’ve been through, and then look me in the eye and tell me that again.”
I’m shaking my head before he’s even finished. “It doesn’t matter, Joshua. I told you—”
“Look, I don’t care about what you are, okay? I don’t care. It’s who you are that I fell in love with.” He stops, red spreading up his neck and face. He didn’t mean to say it, but it’s too late; the words are already out, floating in the air between us. He thinks he speaks the truth, but I know better.
“I’m no one, Joshua. You can’t love me any more than you can love a statue.”
“Bullshit.”
I shake my head again. “I’ve tried. For years, I tried to pretend. I’ve hunted for the truth. I’ve endured more than one person should in a lifetime. But it’s all hopeless. I am nothing; I feel nothing.” You’re still pretending, that voice in my head says, snide. An image of Fear assaults me, his crinkled eyes, the way that coat constantly flapped against his boots. The tender way he ran his fingers down my spine in the woods that night, so long ago …
“No. There’s always a solution,” Joshua says doggedly, filled with unshakable determination. “You should know that more than anyone. A month ago, I didn’t know that anything nonhuman, or from another world—any of it—existed. But it does. This incredible power, these creatures that aren’t bound by human rules or boundaries—”
“It’s not as grand as you seem to think.”
“—and no one knows about it. Just because we’re so shallow-minded that we can’t accept the idea there’s something more.”
It’s easy to guess where his thoughts are heading. “Even if you’d known about the other plane years before now, you couldn’t have saved your mother,” I say gently. “One of the few rules my kind has is not to interfere in the lives of mortals, other than to perform our purpose.”
“You interfered,” he counters.
He knows I’m rejecting him. He sees right through the lies. There’s nothing I can do to ease his pain. “I disobeyed,” I say, taking a step back. “I was … sad and stupid. I still am. I shouldn’t be here. But I pay my dues; you saved my life, so I thought you might want an explanation for—”
“An explanation isn’t what I want.”
“I can’t give you what you want.” I’m blunt now. Even if it means hurting him further, I have to get it all out of his head. Me, his feelings, any shred of hope. “If it comforts you, I would feel sorry if I could.”
“Shut up, Elizabeth,” he says, breathing heavily. He takes two quick steps and he’s suddenly there, too close and too demanding. He grasps my shoulders, so impassioned that he doesn’t realize his fingers are biting into me. The hurt boy is gone, leaving a heated man in his place. I study this new creature, his blazing green eyes, that ridiculous long hair.
“Joshua—”
“You feel,” he tells me through his teeth. “I know you do. You cried at Maggie’s funeral. You were afraid when that man attacked you in the parking lot that night. You painted that mural … for what? Because everyone else expected you to? No. Because you wanted to.”
I’m shaking my head, but he’ll have none of it. Making a sound of frustration deep in his throat, Joshua pulls me against him. Before I can react, he’s pressing his lips to mine for the first time. He’s a little clumsy, uncertain. But then his warm hands slide from my shoulders to my waist, cupping the small of my back, and he relaxes. I close my eyes, instinctively kissing him back.
Even irate, Joshua is infinitely tender, holding me so close I find it hard to breathe. Thinking to shove him away, I flatten my palms to his chest. Unrelenting, he pushes me against the wall and presses closer. My mouth opens to his, and our kiss deepens. He tastes a little like the sweet corn he must have had for supper. His arms are stronger than I’d realized, refusing me escape, challenging. Wishing everything was this simple, I keep kissing him, but somehow, someway, someone else slips into my thoughts. Someone with an infuriating smirk and silky white hair …
When Joshua pulls back, I’m unprepared. A small gasp slips out, and at the sound Joshua grins, a slow, warm grin. “Elizabeth,” he says. “Don’t you get it? I’m not playing games. I don’t expect anything. I love you.”
The simple words spark something inside me. I’ve heard them before, but it’s different this time. I freeze in his arms, carefully analyzing the strange sensation deep inside me.
“You … ” I take a breath, struggling to regain my analytical way of thinking. Joshua won’t let me; he kisses me again, catching me by surprise.
“Yes, I love you,” he says. His breathing is more ragged than mine. The Emotion herself shimmers into existence, touching his cheek before leaving us alone again.
I swallow. I can’t say the words back. Because I yearn to say them to someone else. The realization isn’t a blow—it’s been waiting, just beneath the surface. And it means more pain for Joshua, more guilt for myself. No one can have their happy endings.
“You don’t even know my real name,” is all I mumble to Joshua in response.
He presses his forehead against mine, inhaling my scent, seeming to savor it. “Then tell me.”
I hesitate for just an instant before whispering, “Rebecca. Rebecca James.”
“Rebecca. It’s a beautiful name.”