“Lai?” Gabriel tumbled urgently as he spun back to me, rapidly dropping to my body.
I looked from Gabriel to Jonah. I recognized who they both were to me, recalling how each made me feel.
One moment Gabriel’s luminous features took up the space in my mind, but no sooner than it had, Jonah’s shadowed face appeared, replacing it.
Back and forth the images flipped, so fast that they became nothing more than black and white, until the flashes of light collided with the shadows in my mind and both elements of what I was burst, allowing the black and the white to merge, creating a fantastic gray matter.
It was surreal; for the first time that I could remember, I felt at ease inside my own skin.
But as I reached for Gabriel’s hand, he looked back at me, his expression empty. It was then that I conceded that Gabriel wasn’t with me. His connection was gone. He couldn’t see me anymore.
I was alone.
Azrael had been wrong; he hadn’t counted on the strength of Gabriel resonating through my being to be able to lead me home. However, as I touched him, it dawned on me that even in my own acceptance, he would never be able to see past the darkness that was part of me. And I couldn’t go on without him.
It was in that realization that I knew my end was inevitable; on that, Azrael had been right. I wouldn’t continue to torture either of them.
With my end, I would set them both free.
Without Gabriel’s connection and now unable to do anything about it, I embraced the pain that was filling me. Drifting away from my consciousness, I allowed my body to succumb.
“Inevitability,” I whispered.
But Gabriel refused, unwilling to let me leave quietly.
Pulling my body up, he hovered desperately over me, glued to my eyes, searching them urgently. I watched his; they seemed to die with me.
There he stayed until finally, as my eyelids began to flutter to their final sleep, the faintest flicker of my extinguishing light entered his violet-blue sapphires.
I caused an asterism; I was the creator of the six-rayed points that now reflected back at me. His stars of Ceylon expanded, verging on the precipice of an explosion into a gigantic supernova.
I knew it then. How had I been so blind?
“I’m your Pair.…”
“I know.” He smiled, and a tear as clear as crystal fell down his cheek. “I told you to have faith in me.…” He trailed off as my body began to relax and my breathing became shallow and faint.
Lailah! Lailah!
There was nothing I could do now. My body was failing me.
He had found me, but this time, he really was too late.
As my wide eyes froze, resting on his, Gabriel’s words seeking me in our private place faded. As they drifted away, I heard him one last time.
Like an echo, growing louder as it hit me, he shouted …
Command the choice to decide.
EPILOGUE
GABRIEL
THE SUN WAS ON THE CUSP OF RISING. A thin layer of white fog swirled over the land, moving gently with the calm breeze. Strangely, it did not entwine itself where she lay. Instead, it floated underneath her resting place, refusing to pass over her.
Jonah sat unmoving, like a loyal servant, on the ground beside my sweet Angel. His eyes only removed themselves from her to scour the vast land surrounding where I had chosen to place her down.
“It’s been seven days, she’s still not breathing.”
I placed my hand on his shoulder. “And you haven’t fed for the same amount of time. You need to—”
“No. I won’t leave her.” His reply was swift and still he refused to remove his focus.
“I’m here. No harm will come to her while I’m with her. You know that. Brooke will be suffering. If not for yourself then for her.”
I didn’t like how attached he had become. But then, I had realized now that it was not my Angel for whom he longed; it was Cessie. The part of her that was like him.
Begrudgingly he rose to his feet and looked down at her, checking once more for any sign of life. I reached for Jonah’s arm to steer him away from my sleeping wonder, but he was unwavering.
“Where’d you think she is?”
“She’s right here,” I answered firmly.
“If she wakes up—”
“When she wakes up,” I cut him off.
I didn’t like him reaching for her hand, and I fought the urge to stop him from squeezing it. Tolerance was something I had plenty of; I had lived through the meaning of being patient. But the touch of his skin on hers made my insides recoil.
“Jonah.” I moved his hand away, tucking her delicate fingers back underneath the white blanket, as if the need to keep her warm was the reason for my action.
“Will she remember us? Do you think she’ll remember the things she couldn’t before?”
“We’ll see. Right now we need to have faith that she will find her way back. That she will fight and not surrender herself to death.”
Inside, I clung onto my own hope that she would find a way; there was nothing but emptiness for her otherwise. She would simply fail to exist and then nothing would matter.
“She feels cold. I don’t think we should be keeping her out here.”
I moved around him and placed the back of my hand on the porcelain skin of her forehead. “It’s for the best. Out here she has the day and the night. It might help. Could you stay with her for a minute while I get another blanket?”
“Yes.” He nodded obediently at me.
I hadn’t left her side since I had carried her from the snowy mountains, bundled in my arms. I would give him a moment alone with her—albeit reluctantly—while I collected some extra warmth. One thing I was certain of was that Jonah would sacrifice himself long before he’d let any harm come to her.
“Then you’ll go and feed and take care of Brooke. She needs you. You can come back when you’re ready. We’ll be here.” Hesitantly I took a step backward, but as I turned to leave something stopped me. “Jonah.”
“Yes.”
“You drank from her, you see her in darkness, but I don’t understand…”
“What?” Still he didn’t take his gaze from her face.
“Your blood fused with hers, the part of her that is like you.…” I stuttered as I said the words. “You had every opportunity,” I gulped. “You didn’t let your thirst take over.”