ARC: Crushed (28 page)

Chapter 37

I spin and slam the door, locking it. Before I even turn back around, the room echoes with the sound of the Crusaders slamming into Armand’s door. There’s no exit back that way. Not that I deceived myself into thinking there was. The gate’s in place, so once they break through the doors they’ll have to get through it as well. But it only buys time, nothing more. They’ll get through eventually, I know.

Armand knows it too. “You have to join the demons, Meda. It’s the only way.”

I shake my head, but it’s not so much in response to him as it is to the truths attacking me now.

“Meda, please.” He strides forward and grasps my hands, ignoring his injury in his urgency. “The demons are our only hope. If the Crusaders break through first, we’ll die.” He makes to move past me to the door I just closed, but my hands tighten convulsively on his, stopping him. I’m not ready.

I feel dazed, like I can’t choke down this reality. I know I need to accept it, work with it. Keep moving, keep fighting. Accept what’s happening and go with it. Make some goddamn lemonade. That’s always been my way.

But right now, I can’t. I feel like I’ve lost, even as I try to convince myself the game’s not over.

“Meda,
please
.” The pain in his voice pulls me to him. My eyes meet his, and I read so much there. Layers and depths, hopes and nightmares. He wraps his hands on either side of my face, and I feel the slick warmth of his blood on my cheek. He’s determined to save me – no, save
us
, I can see it in every agonized line on his face, the flex of his jaw. “I know it’s not what you wanted, but you have to.” His words are fierce. “Please. It’s the only way.”

He never understood my reasons, but he understands my pain.

My heart aches. It bleeds and throbs. It breaks, as was always inevitable. I put myself in this impossible situation, torn between two worlds. I wanted all of it; Armand and freedom, Jo and the light. But that was never a tenable situation. Something had to give. I waited too long to make the decision myself. I was greedy; I took it all, and all, and all. Telling myself I would deal with it tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow. But I’m out of time, and the decision has been taken from me.

There’s only one choice I can make. Only one left.

I look into Armand’s eyes, and he reads me as only he can, and he knows I’ve made a decision. But I don’t want him to ask. I don’t want to say.

So instead, I kiss him.

I take everything I’m feeling. The fear, the rage, the desperation. All the good and all the bad. What could have been, what
I
could have been. Everything I’ve ever wanted with Armand, but knew better than to admit, even to myself. Especially to myself. I take all these emotions and I shove them into that kiss. My world is on fire with feeling. He takes them all as he kisses me back, his lips as hot on mine, and I feel like I am being devoured, like I am devouring him. And I know it’s the end, the end of all of this, so I put every ounce of everything in that kiss. I drain out all the softer emotions I have.

Because I don’t want them. I can’t have them, where I’m about to go.

The force of it, of
me
, because I am a force, shoves him backwards. He pushes back. Our kiss is like us, heat and violence and greed. But I’m stronger than he is, of course I am, and he stumbles backwards, until he fetches up against the pole behind him, the one where Hell punishes those under its control. The chains of the manacles clink; with the battle sounds, it’s a perfect soundtrack.

Armand’s hands thrust through my hair, and my own clutch his shoulders. I pull him down, roll up on my toes, try to get closer, try to crawl into his skin, try to swallow this moment as if I could keep it, as if it could live inside me.

It’s real. This.

Everything will change, but I have this.

We break apart and he presses his forehead against mine and I close my eyes. I’m breathing in his heavy breath, and there’s a catch in the way the air leaves my lungs, but it’s not a sob. I’m not that girl and this is not the time. Later, there will be time.

His fingers trace lightly down the side of my face, filled with a tenderness at odds with our very natures, and he tips up my chin. I meet his dark eyes, filled with the shadows that haunt us both, that bind us. The shadows that make our fate inevitable.

“It will be OK, I promise,” he whispers. “We’ll be together.”

I can’t bear to listen, and I shake my head as if to scatter the words away, like crows.

This is not a happy ending.

I break eye contact, looking down and breathing deeply. I want to scream, to sob, to hit him, to hit the world. Instead, I gather my tattered courage, trading it for the remnants of foolish, greedy, broken dreams. Then I look back up into the eyes of the only person who can accept me no matter the horrible things I’m capable of. Those eyes.

I’m making the right decision. But it hurts. God, it hurts.

I reach up and take his good hand, tugging it down and twining my fingers with his. I wrap my arms around him, taking his hand with me.

It’s time. I can face it.

I have no choice.

With a quick tug, I snap the manacle on his wrist.

Chapter 38

In the moment it takes Armand to realize what I’ve done, I pull out of range. His expression goes from shock to horror. He jerks his wrist and looks back at me. “What are you doing?” When I make no move, he jerks harder, his gaze shooting to the door. “We have to – the demons–”

I take the moment of his inattention to swallow the softness. I slaughter the affection; I brutalize my foolishness. I blink away tears. They had their moment, but it’s passed. There’s no room for them in what comes next.

A human probably couldn’t do what I’m about to do, feeling as I feel. Even a saint could kill her enemy; it takes a monster to kill a friend.

That I’m destroying my humanity as I work to save it is not lost on me, but the irony does not make me smile. I told Armand once, a thousand years ago, that I was not a girl for moonlit daydreams. I am a ruthless monster, capable of doing what she must for what she wants.

When he twists back to me once more, my eyes are filled with an iciness few have survived. Armand won’t be one of them.

“The demons aren’t coming, Armand. I lied.”

He moves his lips but no words leave them.

“I know it was you, Armand.” The frost in my eyes seeps into my blood and turns my tone frigid.

He shakes his head, not wanting to believe.

“You set me up. You stole the Beacon Map. The demons couldn’t find us, so the Crusaders must have it. You said so yourself.” I shake my head. “But then the Crusaders couldn’t find us either and
you knew
. You knew we could hide. ” I laugh, but it’s not a happy sound. “I’m embarrassed I didn’t figure it out sooner.”

I know how devious our kind can be. He even told me – how many times? – that demons always have ulterior motives. But I know why I didn’t see it sooner. Because I didn’t want to. Because I knew what I’d lose. Because I lie to myself as much as I lie to anyone.

But I’m not really being fair to myself. I didn’t know the specifics, but I always knew that it would come to this: me versus him. The specifics don’t really matter, only the outcome: that I win.

The best part is
he
never lied. Not about wanting me dead, at least. He didn’t; he was after a bigger fish. He was after my soul.

It makes me laugh, almost.

I look at him. I
look
at him and I
see
him.

The lies dance on his lips, his own rat-like nature begging him to scramble, to deny. I hold his eyes and the rats still, as does his frantic jerking on the chain. We know each other too well for that.

In that minute a thousand expressions play on his face; he lets me see them all. Then he finally speaks. “It was the only way.”

My tiny heart gasps at the cold spreading through me. I ignore it. I knew,
I already knew
, but hope is a silly, irrational thing.  

“It was the only way for us to be together.” His voice is filled with a depth I don’t care to hear. “I can never be a Crusader, Meda, but you, you can be one of us. If I could choose, I would. I would choose you.” He jerks on his chain. “Please Meda, choose me.” His dark eyes beg for me to understand.

And I do understand. I understand everything. Finally.

But as he tries to connect, I withdraw. This heart isn’t the bleeding kind. Not in that way, at least.

My voice is all violent business. There are things I need to know before he dies. “You told the Crusaders I was here, to make me think they had the Map. That’s why they’re here, isn’t it?”

“Meda–” he starts, but I slice him with my eyes and his jaw tightens. “Yes.” The apology, the pleading, is gone. “Your
friends
were already so eager to kill you I merely had to let them know where you were.”

“And that little scene with my father, it was planned, wasn’t it? So I would hear what I needed to in order to side with them. With
you
.” I laugh, harsh and bitter. “It’s so obvious; such a coincidence.” I match a cold smile to that laugh. “I can only say in my defense that I was a little preoccupied.”

“Everything he said was true.”

I snarl.

“But, yes, it was planned.”

Horrible realization strikes. “Jo and Chi–” They’re upstairs, they don’t know Armand’s a traitor.

“It’s not a trap,” he swears. He twists his face in disgust. “I would never… I know how you feel about them. It’s no more dangerous than it ever was. Less even, as there aren’t even any demons monitoring the map.” He looks at me like I’m capable of forgiveness. “They don’t know it’s here.”

There’s a cracking sound at the door and both our heads turn as if we can see through steel.

“So the map really is here?” I ask, calling him back.

“Yes. Meda, please, I wouldn’t hurt them, because I know it would hurt you.  And I never wanted to hurt you. I just wanted to–”

“What, Armand?” I snarl. “You wanted to
what
?”

He is unafraid, unapologetic. “Keep you,” he finishes.

“You should have learned, Armand, as the Crusaders did, that I’m no one’s pet.” Stinging and soft.

His lips curve, just slightly, and he says just as softly, “You don’t think I know that? Don’t pretend to misunderstand, Meda; we are far too alike for that.”

I look away and ask my next questions without turning back. “How far does this go back? When you tracked me to Colton’s?”

“Further.” He admits without hesitation. “The day we met in the dungeons. Zi-Hilo offered a reward to anyone who turned you. I planted myself in that cell to convince you to join the demons before you were taken upstairs.”

“Uri.” It’s an accusation.

“No, Meda, that wasn’t part of the plan. And I was truly locked in. There was nothing I could do.”

“I’m supposed to take you at your word?”

“No, though I wish you would,” he snaps. “But it wouldn’t make any sense for zi-Hilo – or me – to want him dead. The last thing we wanted was to piss you off. The plan was to convince you to join us.”

“And zi-Hilo thought you’d be in a position to gain my trust, after our shared prison time,” I hypothesize. “He sent you after me.”

“No. I suggested it,” Armand says, as if it makes a difference.

“It was all a lie,” I say this to myself, not him.

“No it wasn’t.” His reply is harsh. His expression is twisted, as ugly as his artificially-perfect face can allow. “Oh, yes, I did lie about a lot of things. And in the beginning, no, it wasn’t about you, and, yes, I’ve always had other motives.” His smile is bitter. “I’m a monster, Meda. I’ve never claimed to be good; I’ve never claimed to be anything other than what I am. I’m selfish and evil and greedy, I want many, many things, most of which I shouldn’t have.” His eyes glitter. “One of those things I want is you, and what kills me is that
you
are one thing that I
should
have. We belong together. They,” he waves his free arm, “demons, Crusaders, they want to pick little pieces of you; I would have you all. Unlike your
friends
, I can delight in the darkest recesses of your soul just as I can the other parts.”

A series of booms rock the room.

He moves suddenly, flying away from the post until his chain is fully stretched. He’s only a foot or so away from me. “I wanted to be with you, and the only way for that to ever happen is for you to join the demons.” Rage twists his face. “Maybe you can go both ways, Meda, but I can’t. I’m trapped. The Crusaders would never accept me, even if they could. If you chose them, we could never be together. It wasn’t betrayal; it was expediency. You may not like my methods, but I did it all for you.”

“How could I ever believe–”

“Because you know it’s true,” he spits. It’s an attack, not a seduction. “Oh, it started out as a mission to win you for the demons, I won’t lie.” He barks a laugh and jangles the chain at his wrist. “Not now. But it ended with me trying to win you for myself. And to keep you alive. No matter what you say, you know the Crusaders don’t accept you either. They were fighting for the right to kill you long before I ever became involved. But more than that, they’re outnumbered, and losing. If you join them it’s only a matter of time before the demons kill you.”

He laughs again. “What I don’t understand, is why you’re willing to let them. The Crusaders
hate
you and
still
you’re determined to sacrifice yourself for their hopeless cause.” He jerks his free hand through his hair. “I wasn’t willing to accept that.” He gets quiet, taking deep breaths as he gets himself under control. He stands silent for a moment, and there’s another loud slam against the door behind him. He doesn’t turn this time. Instead he looks at me.

When he speaks again, the anger has drained away. “I’m still not willing to accept it.” He moves as if to come closer, but the chain holds him back. “I know you’re mad – understatement, I know – but please Meda, don’t kill yourself for people who don’t give a damn about you.” His lips quirk in a half-smile, the one I know so well. “Don’t kill
me
for them.” He reaches for me with his unchained hand, but he can’t quite reach. “I’ll do whatever you want, Meda.” His voice is rough. “But pick me.”

His eyes hold mine, and God, I want to. Our friendship was real, as real as is possible between two monsters. He betrayed our friendship
for
our friendship. We’re selfish beasts. He wanted me, so he went after me. I wanted him, so I ignored all the reasons why it was wrong. Each step I took down the path of Meda-and-Armand flickered red with flags I chose to ignore, because something in him called to something in me. My head knew all along it was a mistake, but my heart refused to listen. It’s only fair that it now writhes in pain, punishment for its stupidity. What a foolish thing, the human heart, being both fragile and reckless. No wonder we spend such an inordinate amount of time in pain.

Even now, it wants to take his outstretched hand and set him free. To leave this hellish place full of hateful lies and even more hateful truths.

But life doesn’t work that way, I can’t forget his betrayal, or forgive it. You can love a monster. It can even love you back, but that doesn’t change its nature. This isn’t
Beauty and the Beast
where my kiss would transform the monster to a prince. If anything, it’s
Shrek
, and his kiss brings out the ogre in me.

I understand why he did it; that’s the problem, isn’t it? How well we understand each other. But just because I understand, doesn’t stop me from hating him.

Just as that hate won’t stop me from missing him.

My eyes burn and blur, and I’m grateful, because I don’t want to see him anymore. Because I won’t pick him, I won’t let him live. I can’t, no matter how my heart screams in its cage. I’m not that girl. I’m too clever, too practical, too
ruthless
to let him live.

And I am a monster.

My pathetic heart screams from its prison to stop it, that that the damned stupid little piece I gave him is going to die with him. That he’s our friend, our companion.

That he’s the only one in the world who has a chance of ever understanding me.

Seems a pity to waste one.
I hear his voice in my head. But I shake it away, I shake
him
away.

He lets his hand drop, without me having to say a word.

In our silence, the room echoes with the Crusaders’ attack on the door. “They’re going to kill me,” he says softly.

“I know,” I say, keeping my voice emotionless. “I’m counting on it.”

“Coward,” he says, but there’s no malice in the accusation.

“Always,” I agree. “I told you, I
warned
you it would end this way.”

“You did.”

“I won’t apologize.”

He shakes his head, but his eyes never leave mine. “Neither will I.”

There’s an extra loud bang, and the door holding the Crusaders back collapses. I turn to see the Crusaders working to haul it out of the way so they can get to the gate.

“She’s here!” I hear one of them shout.

My time is up. I turn my back on Armand, but I ask one more question before I go. “What did they offer you, Armand? The reward if I joined the demons?”

“My soul,” he says simply. “I’m not a Halfling. Not anymore.”