“Zayne,” I whispered.
He didn’t move. “That thing was going to kill you.”
My heart started hammering. “Probably. Eventually.”
Zayne tilted his head. “I couldn’t allow that.”
That was good. That was more than good actually. Relief started to creep into me—
“If you are to die,” he continued, “then it seems only fitting that it should be by my hands.”
8
Well.
The relief and rising sense of hope was short-lived, crashing and burning rather spectacularly.
“How romantic,” I muttered, ignoring the aching hollowness those words caused.
“You think?” he asked in a flatly apathetic way that was both unnerving and impressive. “After all, you said that I died because of you. Shouldn’t you then die because of me?”
“I said you died for me, not because of me,” I corrected.
“How is that any different?” He turned his head just slightly, and I could see that there was no wound under his chin. I hadn’t cut him deep, but he’d already healed. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
I couldn’t see beyond his wings, but it didn’t take a leap of logic to figure that Dez had been about to do something really brave and really stupid. And that he’d listened to Zayne’s warning.
“Smart choice,” Zayne said, his gaze settling back on me. There was a brief moment where I got to really look at that golden hue of his skin—at the luminosity that hadn’t been there before Gabriel killed him. It was a subtle glow that probably wouldn’t be noticeable to most, but it was his grace.
My stomach dropped. He truly was packed full of heavenly fire, and I knew if any Warden went toe to toe with him, to serve as a distraction for me to strike, they wouldn’t survive. If Dez went after him...
I thought of Dez’s wife, Jasmine, and how kind she’d been to me, and of his twin babies. He should be far, far from here.
But Zayne was in front of me, and I had to try, no matter the risk. No matter how selfish it was.
I managed to keep my voice level when I said, “We’ve been looking for you.”
“I know.”
“Is that so?” I worked hard to hide how his response unnerved me. “Why have you waited until now to make that known? Last time I saw you, you got up all in my face.”
“I did,” he replied without emotion. “But I’ve been busy.”
My heart seized with dread. Were there more bodies, ones we just hadn’t found? “With the dead guy behind us? That kind of busy?”
Zayne knelt, dropping down and tucking back his wings so quickly that I gasped. Our faces were only a few inches apart, and as close as we were, I could see that it wasn’t just the color of his eyes that was different. The unearthly glow of grace was behind his pupils.
“Do you mourn his death?” he asked, the question startling me. The fact that he was kneeling with his back to Dez told both of us he didn’t remotely view the Warden as a threat. “Do you think he died an unjust death?”
“Why did you kill him?”
“Does it matter?”
“Yes,” I said. “It does.”
He eyed me coolly. “That man, if you could even call him that, was nothing more than the worst of predators. I sensed all his sin.”
My heart tripped. “What...what do you mean?”
“I can sense the sin of man—their darkest, innermost thoughts,” he repeated in a tone that suggested he didn’t think I had two working brain cells to rub together. His gaze flicked up to the body behind me, and I mentally cursed the Throne for forgetting to fill me in on this new talent of his. “He didn’t just have thoughts about children. He had memories of what he’d done.”
I put two and two together and ended up with the taste of bile in my throat. I didn’t know if it was right or wrong to feel a little bit of relief to know that the man had not been a good dude. Murder was bad and all, but if what Zayne claimed was true, I couldn’t really feel all that bad for him. I just didn’t know what that meant for Zayne.
Or for me.
But whatever.
“You’re making a bad decision,” Zayne said, jolting me out of my thoughts. He was watching me, but he wasn’t speaking to me.
What was Dez doing?
“I’m feeling overly generous right now,” Zayne said. “But take one more step and it will be the last step you take.”
Did he have eyes in the back of his head? I had no idea, but the cold threat carried the weight of truth. It was clear that it was his last warning.
Staring at him, I tried to reconcile the fact that even with the flatness of his tone and the predatory gleam in his eyes, it looked like Zayne. Yes, there were things that were different. The glow and the wings. But I couldn’t process how changed he was. How could his Fall erase everything? Was the Glory—his soul—that powerful? Were there any memories of his life in him or just vague sensations associated with a consciousness he was no longer connected to? Was that why I felt familiar to him, but he didn’t know why? Or care? Or was the reason why he killed the Ghoul, why he hadn’t snapped my neck, because that consciousness still drove him on some primal, basic level he couldn’t understand? Was it too late?
“Are you even still in there?” I whispered.
There was a flicker of emotion that tightened the skin around his eyes and mouth. Confusion? I thought so. It reminded me of how he’d stared at me when I’d touched his cheek instead of striking him.
If he was truly lost, he wouldn’t feel confusion now. At least, that’s what I thought—what I had to think. “Do you still feel too much?” I asked, remembering what he and the Throne had said about his Fall. “Do you know what you were before tonight? Who you were?”
He said nothing.
“You were a Warden, like him. You were my Protector, bonded to me. You died protecting me. Do you not remember that?”
Zayne’s chest rose with a sharp breath.
“You did that because you love me and not because of any bond or duty,” I rushed on. “Do you not remember anything before Falling? Do you even remember your name?”
“I told you what you can call me,” he snarled, sending a chill across my skin.
“What? Death? Fallen? That’s not your name. It’s Zayne,” I stated, forcing everything I felt into the words. All of my love and fear for him, all my hope and my pain. “Do you remember his name? The Warden? He’s like a brother to you—”