Fury. Rebecca Lim

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СКАЧАТЬ left hand no longer burns with the mark of Luc’s betrayal. For an instant, I’m mesmerised by the sight of my own skin, my own fingers — how long it’s been since I’ve really seen them and felt as if they were a part of me. They are as unmarked and smooth as fired porcelain. I’m reminded with a jolt of Carmen’s eczema-scarred wrists, Lela’s small hands, Irina’s slender, tapered claws. I’ve left them all behind me now, truly.

      Ryan breaks my reverie by raising his head to face me at last. His eyes are pain-filled. He looks at me for the longest time; studying my features, my glowing, strong-limbed form. He told me, once, that he kept a picture of me in his wallet — something a sketch artist put together on the strength of Lauren’s description. But he’s never really seen me, the real me. He’s only ever known me as a sharp-tongued presence, a wise-cracking ghoul, inhabiting a stranger’s body. Is he … disappointed?

      But there’s awe in his expression, and a dawning gladness. There’s something else, too, in his eyes. Some kind of new-found awareness that was never there before.

      I wonder what he saw when he journeyed through the valley of the shadow of death. Whether he witnessed things that cannot be reasoned away. The path, for every person, is different, they say.

      We sit staring at each other, side by side, our backs to the rough stone. I focus solely on Ryan, on his face. It’s weird, but so long as I look at him, the feeling that I’m about to splinter apart, seems to lessen.

      ‘What …’ His voice is like something carried back on the wind from the afterlife. ‘What just … happened? It felt like I was …’

      ‘On fire?’ I say quietly.

      He nods, wiping the blood from his mouth with the heel of one hand. ‘From the inside.’ He struggles to swallow, grimacing when it causes him pain. ‘I died, didn’t I? I was d—’

      I put a hand to his lips to stop him saying more, in case Azraeil should be reminded of how he was cheated and think to return.

      Ryan turns his face into my palm. I want so badly to trace the line of his mouth with my thumb, but I quickly let my hand fall before I can give in to weakness.

      ‘It takes a lot to heal someone,’ I reply cautiously. ‘And I don’t have a great track record at healing things, so cut me some slack.’

      ‘You saved me?’ His voice is raw. ‘You mean you were responsible for that … that …’ He inhales sharply at the memory of the pain and his fingers curl involuntarily where they rest upon his knees. When he turns his gaze back on me his eyes are almost accusing. ‘That was … you?’

      I say gently, ‘Like I told you before, I’m not a “regular” girl, Ryan. And seeing as how I almost killed you, I figure we’re about even now.’

      He coughs as he pulls himself more upright against the wall, and that familiar fringe of straight, dark hair falls into his eyes.

      ‘All I can remember is a bunch of steeples and …’ he frowns, ‘people? Am I right? Were there people up there? All rushing up to meet us, then blam, I hit something. Lights out. Then I wake to find you watching over me. Like some kind of angel …’

      He looks at me sideways, deliberately casual, to gauge my reaction.

      As I look down, discomfited by the intensity of his gaze, a strand of my own straight, dark hair falls across my face. Ryan bridges the gap between us, loops it gently behind my ear, briefly tracing down the line of my jaw as if he can’t help himself. His touch is so shattering, so damned human, that some cold, hard part of me feels as if it is giving way.

      ‘You feel so real,’ he rasps.

      Self-preservation is instinctual in me now and I move out of reach, warning him raggedly, ‘Don’t.’

      ‘Or what?’ He sighs, leaning his head back against the wall. It’s so cold in here that his breath streams out white, like a cloud, or a soul departing.

      ‘You know, I’ve had my own freaky theories about you for some time now,’ he murmurs. ‘I went away and did my research like you said to, between dealing with a mountain of self-pity and anger and … grief.’ He shoots me another glance. ‘I don’t know how it’s possible … how you’re even possible. You’ve made me question everything I’ve ever believed in. I deserve a little more … clarity.’ His voice is strained. ‘I think I’ve, uh, earned it.’

      Warily, from the safety of my corner, I meet his eyes.

      ‘For what it’s worth,’ he says, ‘I feel like everything’s new again between us. Like we’ve been given permission to … start over.’

      ‘Permission?’ I laugh despairingly. ‘In what universe could someone like you and someone like me make any kind of sense? Who “permits” this?’ I look away from the tenderness in his gaze, the hurricane inside me begging to be set free.

      ‘You need to explain things to me,’ he insists. ‘I need to understand who it is that I’m —’

      ‘Dealing with?’ I cut in.

      Something flares in his eyes, and I’m instantly ashamed of my own cowardice because I know what he was about to say, the words he was going to use.

      ‘You could put it that way,’ he says, stung.

      I look down at my hands, wanting to touch him, to tell him I don’t deserve his love. Maybe I’ve never really known what love is; after all, I chose as my first love someone who soon after became … the Devil.

      I shudder. Ryan catches the movement and frowns.

      ‘Trade?’ he says so softly, I almost miss the word.

      For a long while I don’t answer, seeing landmines in every direction, seeing ancient history that could only cause Ryan pain, the last thing I would ever want for him. All the while, I struggle to keep my nausea at bay, to contain that sensation inside me of building, of escalation.

      ‘You promised.’ Ryan takes a shuddering breath. ‘It’s because of you I got broken in the first place.’

      ‘And I fixed you!’ I reply, turning on him like a wounded animal. ‘So quit complaining.’

      ‘I was broken the moment you left me the first time.’ His voice is very quiet. ‘Damn straight, it’s up to you to fix me. And you haven’t even begun to mend the hurt you caused. You can’t hide from what’s between us forever! You deserve … love as much as anyone does.’

      It’s as if the word is ripped out of him. He’s unaware that I’ve already read his heart like a map, like the constellations.

      ‘Let me in,’ he begs, murmuring again, ‘you promised.’ ‘What?’ I say, struggling to hold myself together, to hold myself apart from him. ‘What did I “promise”? How was I even in any condition to promise you anything?’

      I see his face soften as his eyes glide over my features, over my glowing form, the curls of energy that drift off my skin, then blur and fade.

      ‘You promised that you’d never hurt me,’ he whispers. ‘Remember? When you were Lela. Then you went and died on СКАЧАТЬ