Assuming he didn’t bleed out right here and now. Which was probably the biggest medical risk he had, right?
As if that “grave” outcome was a serious possibility, Havers hesitated, his bag wide open, all those treatment supplies the kind of thing that he seemed compelled to use like the gauze and tape had an expiration date. And great, now there was some more discussion about surgery, although not that much more—which wasn’t really a surprise. As much as Havers took his job seriously, he was a member of the glymera, and as such, he wasn’t comfortable slumming in a human’s house.
He was probably going to pull a Silkwood when he got home. And didn’t the disrespect make thoughts of scalpels appeal.
“It does appear to have missed your vital organs,” the healer hedged.
“Lucky me,” Darius muttered as he looked over to Anne.
She was just sitting in her chair, her shoulders slumped, her eyes barely blinking. Every once in a while she glanced over, but it was as if she couldn’t stand the sight of him. Not that he blamed her.
When Havers finally left, Darius pushed himself up higher on the oven door and moved his legs out straight. The fact that there was black and red blood on her linoleum was as stark a commentary on their relationship as it could get.
“I didn’t tell you,” he said roughly, “because you wouldn’t have believed me. And if you had, you wouldn’t have given me a chance.”
It felt like forever before she responded. “Was any of it true.”
Not a question, more a rhetorical that was spinning around in her head. Still, he felt compelled to answer. “I do have a boss who is impossible. That wasn’t a lie.”
“Well, aren’t you a hero.”
And of course, the biggest truth was that he loved her. But he knew that was the last thing she wanted to hear. “I’m so sorry I lied to you.”
“I am, too. I really am.”
The words slipped out before he could stop them: “I love you—”
“Don’t say that, ever,” she snapped. “Not around me, at any rate.”
Fuck. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
She pushed her tangle of dark hair back and drew the lapels of the pink robe tightly to the base of her neck. “You know what the crazy thing is? Not that this all isn’t insane… but the most crazy thing is that I literally cannot believe I am here again, the truth exposed and biting me in the ass. The only thing I can say to your benefit is that at least your hands are not around my throat. But I still feel like I can’t breathe—”
“I’m sorry—”
“Stop with that. And I need you to leave. Right now. I don’t want to ever see you again.” She gestured to her head with a limp hand. “My mind can’t handle any of this, and I just need tonight… all of this… you… to be over. I need you to have never existed.”
Darius closed his eyes. Reopened them. “I can make that happen… I can take your memories.”
When her brows flared, he touched the side of his own temple. “I can make this all disappear. You won’t think of me ever again, it will be as if I never, ever… existed.”
Anne opened her mouth. Closed it. Then the silence stretched out into infinity.
With an abrupt jerk, she shook her head. “No, I don’t want to forget you. I didn’t learn my lesson with Bruce, so God sent me you, just to make sure I finally get it. And I have. No more letting people in. I’m done with that.”
Darius scrubbed his face again. Wow. Who knew the only thing worse than her eager to wipe her memories of him… was her wanting to enshrine him for the rest of her life as a curse. And God, he wanted to say something, anything, that would help her.
So he spoke words that got him right in the heart: “I’ll go now.”
As he went to try to push himself up off her floor, Vishous picked that moment to materialize back into the kitchen. And when Anne jumped in her chair, Darius cursed.
“He’s leaving,” she said thinly. “Help him with that, will you.”
She got up and turned away. “Do me a favor and lock the front door behind you. Even if it’s just the knob, at least it’ll keep some things out. Hopefully.”
Patricia Anne Wurster did not look back as she shuffled off for her stairs.
And as Darius listened to her go up to the second floor slowly, he felt like he was bleeding out with each of her footfalls.
“Are you okay?” Vishous asked softly.
Darius put his palm up in the air. “No, I’m not. Give me a hand, will you?”
“Can you dematerialize?” his brother asked.
“It doesn’t matter, just get me out of this poor woman’s house.”
Vishous dragged him off the floor, and then Darius limped to the front door. The fact that it was slightly open suggested that Bruce had, in fact, come in that way. But who knew. Who cared.
About anything.
Pausing at the base of the stairs, he looked up at the closed door that was at the top on the left. He pictured her in her bed, curled on her side, holding herself.
Or maybe she was stripping the sheets.
Burning them?
“Did you take her memories?” V demanded. “Just now?”
“No.” He looked at his brother. “And you’re not going to, either. Are we clear.”
“That’s not the way it works—”
Darius fisted up the front of V’s jacket. “Well, it’s how it fucking works this time. You leave her alone. We’ve done enough damage.”
There was a split second as he waited for V to correct him with a “You’ve done enough damage.” Or maybe point out that if she couldn’t remember, how’d she know anything had been taken from her? But the brother just shrugged and stepped out over the threshold.
After a moment, Darius followed, and he closed things up behind them. His fingers lingered on the knob—and then he willed the dead bolt into place.
Limping down onto the walkway, he stopped and turned back. Shrouded in darkness, he stared up at the bedroom’s windows. The venetian blinds were lowered, but the lights were on. He had no idea what she was doing up there. Well, he could guess the generalities…
As it dawned on him that he was never going to know any more details about her life, it was as if she had died. Or he had.
“It was only a matter of nights,” he said hoarsely, “but it’s going to have to last me a lifetime.”
And then something dawned on him.
He looked at his brother. “Your vision. It really wasn’t about the farmhouse, was it. That wasn’t the second sun.”
“We don’t need to think about that right now—”
“Because it wasn’t raining last night.” He leaned forward. “It wasn’t raining. In your vision, you said it was raining, right?”
“Yeah. I did.”
Numbly, Darius glanced back at the bedroom window. “That’s what you saw, the rain. Before the click, before the second sun.”
“Yeah.”
Darius took a deep breath. “Good. It means there’s still an explosion out there, waiting for me. Now, I just have to find it.”
Closing his eyes, he didn’t expect to be able to dematerialize—but for some reason, maybe because getting off Anne’s property was the very least he could do for her, he managed to spirit away.