“Hell, he invited us inside. He already had the plans. H
e’d
already planted one bomb, even. I said I would help. I figured, the more bodies, the more trouble Moros would be in.” Trevor shook his head, staring at the scattered balls on the pool table. “It felt like justice, man. Pure justice. I remember feeling so sure.” He looked sick. “Sure that killing people not fated to die was the right thing,” he added in a strangled voice.
Dec’s gaze rested on the cue ball. It was too painful to look at Trevor’s face. “Did Erin go along?”
“Nah, she was trying to cool things down. I could tell she was really freaked-out. She kept stroking my arm, whispering to me that Moros would be angry, that he would kill me, but I just couldn’t hear it, not with all the hate I was carrying inside. Then Jian and I started to argue—he wanted me to follow this set schedule he said he had, started making demands like I was his assistant or some goddamn thing. Bullshit. And then the guy’s wife walks in. Probably the only thing that kept me from killing him right there.”
“So you willed Jian to kill himself instead, Trev? That’s not like you.”
“I willed him to live long enough to carry out the plan, and then I wanted him to suffer,” he whispered. “And that’s how it turned out. I was angry, he was angr
y . . .
he was probably wishing the worst for me, too. Erin got between us and pushed us away from each other. I stayed long enough to get the list of research volunteers, and then I was out of there.”
Dec’s blood ran cold. “But all those people, Trevor. The ones working with Galena. Did you kill them?”
“I don’t know why I was so angry, Dec,” he said with a groan. “I’ve been trying to figure it out for days.” His deep-brown eyes became shiny with tears. “Everything made sense. Until it didn’t.”
“What’s happened to you?” Dec muttered.
Trevor stared at him as the tears overflowed. “I’m not that person. I swear. I don’t know.”
“Do you still have that disconnected feeling?”
Trevor shook his head. “After that night, it went away, and I just locked myself in here. The anger faded. Not completely, but enough that now I can’t remember why I ever thought any of it was a good idea. I’ve been sitting here for three solid days, trying to figure out what to do. But now I know.”
Trevor set his cue on the table, then trudged into his kitchen. He returned carrying something in a large plastic bag. With a look of disgust and pain, he tossed it onto the pool table.
The bag contained a knife, its eight-inch blade crusted with dried blood. It lay between them, hard proof of something Dec could barely believe. He let out a shaky breath. “We’re going to figure this out, Trevor.”
“No. There’s nothing to figure out. I want you to take me to Psychopomps. I want to make my confession.” Trevor’s eyes met Dec’s. “And then I want you to summon Moros, so he can put me down for good.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
G
alena staggered away from Eli as she was hit by a burst of warm air. She stumbled against the bed, still unmade. She forced herself not to lower her face to the pillow and inhale, just to have Dec’s scent in her nose.
When she looked over her shoulder, Eli was watching her. “You’re still mortal.”
Galena straightened up and smoothed her fingers over her cheeks, which were hot to the touch. “It hasn’t even been three days.”
Eli’s eyes flickered with red. “Three days during which you could have been killed by anyone.” His lip curled with disgust.
“You didn’t think this would be easy for me, did you? Are you telling me you’re surprised that it’s taking awhile for me and Dec to get through it?”
“No, I’m not surprised. And I’m not mad about that. I’m mad because Dec didn’t tell a soul.”
Anger flashed hot in Galena’s chest. “Don’t blame him for this.”
“Who should I blame then, G? Look at you!” He gestured at the scratch on her forehead. “Did you get that when you were in jail?”
Her fingertips touched the scrape. It was healing. It had never been a serious injury. “No, but, Eli, it could have happened anywhere. I’ve been mortal my whole life. So have you, until recently. And look—both of us are still standing!”
He shook his head. “It seems like half the supernatural world wants to kill you these days, G, and I thought w
e’d
found a way to protect you. I thought
Dec
would protect you.” His face twisted with rage, and he turned away. “Obviously, I was wrong.”
“Dec has done everything he could,” snapped Galena. “He owes us nothing, and yet time and time again, he’s saved me. He puts himself between me and any danger. He’s doing it right now!”
Eli went still. “What exactly is he doing?”
Galena let out a frustrated breath. “We were trying to find who was really responsible for the bombings and the killings. We know Jian did it under extreme duress, and we also know that I’ve been set up. We went to visit Jian’s widow, and she told Dec something. I’m not sure what.” She frowned, recalling how upset Dec had looked when he returned to the Veil after talking to Mei Lee. “We had thought it was Luke, but—”
“Luke the Ker?” Eli turned around again. “Has he threatened you?”
She shook her head. “But he summoned me to guide a soul. He really seems to hate me. And Dec was concerned that he didn’t seem surprised I was a Ferry. Then we were attacked by Shades—”
“You were attacked by
Shades
? Why the hell didn’t you tell me?”
“We were handling it!” Galena blinked. We. She and Dec were a
we
. She wished they were together right now. “I’m fine.”
“No thanks to Dec. He should have told me, so that I could make sure you were guarded. Anyone could have gotten to you.”
“But no one did. They found another way to neutralize me, Eli—they framed me for murder. And Dec is helping me clear my name. I have a feeling he’s risking more than he’s willing to tell me.”
Eli looked away, but Galena caught the flicker of knowledge in his eyes. “What?” she asked.
He sighed. “Aislin is threatening to revoke his status if he doesn’t turn himself—and you—in.”
Galena’s stomach dropped. “Revoke his status? Is that like disowning him?”
Eli nodded. “Cacy said it would make him a regular human.”
Dec hadn’t told her that. He really
was
risking everything. “He should never have agreed to Claim me,” she said in a choked voice. “I should never have said I wanted him.” Her eyes met Eli’s. “And you should never have talked to him about it. We did this to him, Eli. He didn’t need to get involved.”
“He was already involved, G. The last thing Patrick Ferry said to Dec before he entered the Afterlife was that Dec should protect you. He’s honoring a promise to his father.”
Suddenly, it all made sense. His dedication, his determinatio
n . . .
his tenderness. He was doing all of it to fulfill his dead father’s last wish. “Oh,” she whispered. “That makes everything clearer.”
“It doesn’t explain why he didn’t call for more protection. We all thought you were safe. Immortal. But—”
“Again, not his fault, Eli,” she said, suddenly tired. She sank down on the bed.
Eli came a few steps closer. “What happened?” His voice had lost that edge of accusation and melted into pure worry.
“He tried,” she said, her throat closing around the words. “And I tried, too. But I just couldn’
t . . .
and he wouldn’
t . . .
” She lowered her face into her hands. “Every time he gets too close to me, these images just plow through my head. I can’t control them.”
Eli sat down next to her. “Of that night, you mean. You remember.”
“I try not to!” she cried, tears trickling between her fingers. “I push the memories away with everything I have, Eli, but they just keep coming. It’s not fair. Especially not to Dec.”
“Dec? What about
you
?”
Galena sniffled as she recalled what Dec had done for her, the way h
e’d
made her climax, then disappeared into the bathroom. Because it was his problem, he said. Because she shouldn’t have to worry about it. “He’s too honorable for his own good,” she muttered.
“Glad to hear it,” Eli growled.
Her hands fell away from her face. “I don’t know how to get through this. And Dec refuses to consummate our bond until I do, because he says it makes him fee
l . . .
bad. Because of me, Eli. Because of how I respond.”
He touched her temple. “Those memories are holding you hostage.”
She looked up at him as he brushed a tear from her cheek. “Do
you
ever think about that night?”
His eyes were steady on hers. “Every day. Every single day.”
“How can you bear it?” she whispered.
“It was nearly impossible at first,” he said quietly, tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear. “I didn’t handle it well.” He cleared his throat and stared at her hands, upturned in her lap like she was begging the sky for answers. “But over time, I guess I’ve gotten used to it, as terrible as that sounds.”
It didn’t sound terrible; it sounded impossible. “Are you saying the memories don’
t . . .
don’t ambush you? Like if you see something that reminds you of that night?”
“It’s never pleasant to think about that night, G. But I control when I think about it, and if recollections come into my mind at a time I’m not expecting it, I feel that pain, but it doesn’t take me down.”
She shook her head in disbelief. “Sometimes I feel like I spend all my energy keeping the memories at bay. Like I have nothing left because it takes so much work. But still, the memories are stronger than I am. They win. Every time.”
He tilted his head, his gaze fond. “Remember what Dad used to say when I was stuck on a homework problem?” He chuckled. “I know he didn’t have to say it to you, because you never got stuck, but—”
“H
e’d
say, ‘The issue isn’t with the problem—it’s with the strategy. Try to tackle it in a different way.’” It had seemed so basic and obvious at the time. Of course that’s what you needed to do to solve a complex problem.
So why had she been clinging, for
two years
, to a strategy that obviously wasn’t working?
Because the idea of letting those memories break free, really letting it all come back, was utterly terrifying. If it meant being able to control them, though, wouldn’t it be worth it?
She reached for Eli’s hand, and he met her halfway, squeezing her fingers. “What do you remember?” she asked.
“I was happy that night. I remember that. For the first time since Mom and Dad died. You and I had just been to see a movie in that restored theater.”
“‘Experience the twentieth century!’” she said in a deep voice, remembering the slogan on the marquee. She put a hand to her stomach. “My belly hurt from laughing so hard.”
“And we were walking back to your apartment. I was hoping your roommate would be home.”
She chuckled. “Yeah, you had a crush on her.” Jeannette had liked Eli, too, she recalled. But Galena had never returned to that apartment after the attack, and sh
e’d
never seen Jeannette again.
Eli’s other palm pressed over hers, completely enveloping her hand. “They came out of a bar and walked toward us.”
Galena’s heart began to bump against her ribs. “I smiled at them. I was in such a good mood. And they smiled back.” She had regretted it every day since.
“It wouldn’t have mattered if yo
u’d
given them the finger, G. As soon as we passed, they started following us.”
“I had no idea.” She only remembered them stepping in front of her and Eli, blocking the way.
“I did,” he said, apology in every word. “I hoped they would leave us alone. I didn’t want to scare you.” He paused for a moment. “They waited until we walked down that side street. I was hoping we could lose them. It was the exact wrong thing to do.”
She leaned against him. “You can’t blame yourself.”
“I will
always
blame myself,” he said in a gravelly voice. “They grabbed me first.”
Galena’s skin went cold, and her breathing became shallow. “You screamed at me to run.”
“But you tried to help me instead,” he said bitterly.
She laid her head on his shoulder, his body heat bleeding through his clothes. “I would never have left you there. I couldn’t. Not that it did any good.”
“There were five of them,” Eli said, his voice hushed now. “But I thought we had a chance.”
“You knocked one of them out.” Her eyes were shut tightly. She began to shake.
“Breathe, G. Slowly.”
She nodded, drawing in a lungful of air and holding it, then letting it out. “One of them started to shock you. With the baton.”
His arm tensed against hers. “The other tried to hold me. And the other two grabbed you. One had a knife.”
Her stomach turned and she bowed forward, saliva filling her mouth. “Eli—”
“I saw them take you down. I saw them yank your skirt up.” Black spots floated in front of her vision. Eli put his hand on her back. “They’re memories, G. They can’t hurt you now. I’m right here. And so are you. You’re here and alive. You got through it.”
She nodded, a little frantically, and focused on a little tear in her sweatpants, her eyes tracing every tiny torn stitch. “Go on.”
“I was fighting with everything I had, but the guy with the baton kept jabbing it into me, and every time he did, it felt like my bones were melting.”
Galena pressed her face to their joined hands. She remembered—Eli had arched back, his body jerking. Sh
e’d
been sure she was watching him die. “I couldn’t stop screaming,” she said.
“The last thing I heard was you screaming my name. I knew you needed me. And I knew I had failed you.” He put his arm around her and kissed the back of her bowed head. “But that’s all I remember, G. It’s all I’ve got. I woke up in the ambulance when they brought me back to life.”
She wished that was where her memories stopped as well. She wished the
y’d
shocked her into unconsciousness. Instead, her brain had recorded every second with unwavering detail. “I don’t know if I can do this, Eli,” she whispered. “I’m afraid to lose control of them.”
“They’re controlling
you
, G. And you know that. You
know
that.”
She let out a sob. “I know.”
He pulled her up but kept his arm around her, holding her tight. “But what you don’t know, what you need to know, is that you’re so much stronger than they are. And I’m sorry that I’ve forgotten that at times.”
“Are you kidding? I’m a mess.” She swiped her hand over her face.
“You’re a brilliant scientist. You’re focused on saving people. After what Rylan Ferry did to you, I thought
I’d
be picking up the pieces for months. But instead, you kept going. And then, when everything fell apart three days ago, again I was afraid you were done. I was so wrong.”
“All of that was because of Dec. He’s held me together.”
“Maybe he helped, but I don’t think you give yourself nearly enough credit. If you did, I think yo
u’d
tackle the enemies in your head with as much determination as you tackle all those germs in your lab.”
She laid her cheek on his shoulder. “You are the best little brother ever.”
“Because I have the best big sister.”
She closed her eyes again, filled with gratitude that she still had him by her side. But was he right? Could she really conquer those barely contained memories, the ones that were still holding her down?
Dec’s angular face appeared in her mind, his blue eyes, his smile. Just thinking of him soothed some of the panic and made her feel braver. She knew, though—her memories were the wall between them. They were keeping her from really touching him, from really knowing him.
But she wanted to know him. And touch him. She wanted to be able to reach out to him in the fragile hope that he would reach back. Yes, he was protecting her out of honor, and maybe it was no more than that. But she would never know if she didn’t try.
Which meant she had no choice but to face the past she had worked so hard to forget.