Dead of Winter (The Arcana Chronicles #3)(92)

His pupils were blown, as if he were in shock. Gritting his teeth, he reached forward to clutch my nape. His other fist clenched so hard, metal groaned. Voice a harsh rasp, he said, “Do you remember when the Fool sent you a vision of me, one with nothing but blackness and ruins?”

I nodded up at him. “You told me that’s what it’s like in your head. You asked me if I thought Death should dream in color.”

“Sievā–, when we were together, I began to. Will you banish me back to that place of nothingness?”

My heart stuttered, my eyes watering.

“Even now, your tears gut me.” He dropped his hand, turning from me. “I can’t . . . I can’t be here.”

“Wait, can’t we please just talk? Are we never going to see each other again?”

He twisted around. “You think I can be near you? Knowing I have no hope of you? You’d curse me to that? My immortal lifetime wasn’t enough time spent coveting you?”

Tears fell. “I don’t want to hurt you.” For strength, I slipped my hand into my pocket, rubbing that ribbon. I’d made up my mind to give it back to Jack. Totally decided.

So why did I feel this unbearable grief to part from Aric? This wrongness? Why was I wrecked to the core? “I’m just having a hard time accepting that this is good-bye. Forever.”

“Oh no, not forever,” he grated, his eyes dazzling with pain. “You’ll win this game, wife, I’ll make sure of it. Then you will wait an eternity for me to return.” With a last consuming look, he said, “After so much killing, it comes back to me, Empress. Something dies in me today.” He strode away.

For long moments, I stared at nothing, my body trembling. Had I just made the worst mistake of my life?

Aric Domīnija was a magnificent, brilliant man who wanted me above all things. And I loved him. I knew I always would.

One love fated. One love endless.

I stumbled out into the dark morning. Dazed, I made my way to Jack. I needed him to enfold me in his arms, to murmur in French that everything would be okay.

And I wanted to find out what Aric had told him. What realities?

I entered his tent—

My breath hitched. Empty? His bag was gone, his books. I dropped to my knees to look under his cot. He’d taken his stash of whiskey bottles.

Jack had left me.





45


I was hyperventilating by the time I found a letter next to a two-way radio on his desk. Tears hit the paper as I read:


Evangeline,

I’m riding out early with the army.

I know who you’re going to choose, know it won’t be me. Now that I’m more familiar with that bastard, I’ve got to face facts. You weren’t with him because he messed with your head—you were with him because you wanted him over me. You and Death have something that I don’t understand, and I’ve got to start trying to get over you.

To pull your thorn from my skin.

Doesn’t mean I won’t be looking over my shoulder, praying you’ll come running after me. Or pick up that radio and tell me to rush back to you.

Selena’s riding out with us, says that’ll make you jealous and up my chances. I’m not above that, peek?n.

But I don’t expect it. You’re going to head east toward the last of your family. And once you find your grandmother, you’ll need to keep her safe. She doesn’t belong out on the road any more than you do. Both of you will be protected at the Reaper’s home. Hole up and plant your roots there.

Sunlamps and food and safety. Sounds mighty nice. I want that for you.

Because I love you.

This might be the most noble thing I’ve ever done. Noble, for the record, hurts like a blade to the heart.

Je t’aimerai toujours,

Jack

*****





Je t’aimerai toujours. I will love you forever.

I snatched up the radio, pressing the talk button. “Jack!”

Static.

“Can you hear me? I’m coming to you!”

Nothing.

Radio in hand, I stuffed the note into my jacket and hurried back to Finn’s tent for my bug-out bag. He still slept.

I whispered, “Good-bye, Magician.” Cyclops raised his head and sighed. I bent to scratch his frizzy head. “Thank you for everything, boy. I hope I get to see you and Lark again some day.” I grabbed my bag, then sprinted for my horse.

How much of a head start did Jack have? Surely I could reach the army in a couple of hours. The convoy would be hauling trailers, and the roads sucked. I could follow the wheel ruts.

Jack had no idea how much I loved him. I’d never even said the words, “I love you” to him. The urgency I felt to reach him, to tell him, strangled me.

When I careened into the stable, my poor mare’s expression: Oh, for f*ck’s sake.

I saddled her in record time, then tore out of the gate. Shit, the mines! How to get around them? I knew about where they were.

I spotted tracks in the frozen mud. Thanatos’s hoofprints. Using them to reach Jack didn’t seem fair; I still did.

Past the mines and rock forest, I followed the river toward the bridge.

In the distance, I saw Death atop a rise, his shoulders back, his helmet off, his pale hair blowing in the wind.

Even from here, even amidst my panic, I felt his longing. In another lifetime, I could have been happy with him. In another lifetime, perhaps I would be.