Thicker Than Blood (Thicker Than Blood #1)(119)

I knew she was crying, that her tears should be hot and wet against my skin, but I couldn’t feel them. All I could feel was the raging panic that barreled through me as my body became something else, something evil and cruel, something that would hurt Leisel without question. The mere thought of me hurting her panicked me, leaving me dizzy and breathless with fear.

“You looked beautiful in that dress, Eve,” she whispered. “Shawn always picked pretty dresses for you. He loved you so much.” Her words, laced with bitter sadness, trailed off as she began to cry harder.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” I cried again, unable to hear my own words properly, my eardrums feeling punctured and pained. “Forgive me. Please, please, forgive me.”

Abruptly Leisel pulled away from me, forcing me into an upright position and holding me there when my body wanted nothing more than to fall limply back onto the bed.

“You stop that right now, Evelyn. I love you and you have nothing to apologize for.” Through her waterfall of tears, she leaned forward and pressed a kiss to my forehead. “I’m going to be fine, I promise you. You don’t need to worry about me.”

“Promise me,” I said, my voice hoarse. “Promise me you’ll stay here where it’s safe. You can live here, Lei. You can survive here. Promise me you’ll stay.”

A fresh wave of tears cascaded down her cheeks, but she nodded through her tears and attempted a small smile. “I promise,” she whispered.

I tried to smile in return, not sure if I managed it since my muscles were no longer responding. But I wanted to smile at the sight of her face, so full of strength and determination, even shrouded in pain. Seeing her this way afforded me a small slice of hope for all that was happening—me dying and having to leave her here alone. It was freeing for me to know that Leisel was strong now, that she’d be able to survive without me.

I remembered Leisel going through each of the five stages of grief when she’d lost her Thomas. And now, with me, she’d done the same, having reached the final stage—acceptance of the situation at hand.

Her denial of the situation had come first, the denial that this was really happening, that I was truly dying and leaving her all alone in this world. Quickly following her denial, she’d become angry, furious even that I really was leaving her all alone. Because how could I do that to her? If I loved her, if Thomas had loved her, how the f*ck could we all just keep dying and leaving her?

She’d yelled at me as if I had a choice in the matter, as if I were choosing to leave her. As if I could have somehow decided to stay. But I couldn’t choose; she’d known that. I was dying, and not only was I dying but I was becoming the very thing that I feared more than death itself. But I couldn’t—wouldn’t—be angry at her for her erratic emotions, because I actually was leaving her all alone. There was nothing I could do about it, and the guilt of that weighed on me heavily, eating away at me worse than any infection possibly could.

Next, she had pleaded with me to let her take my leg, to take both if she had to, as if that would have somehow helped. She’d offered to take me back to Purgatory, thinking that maybe they would help us. Thank God, at the time I’d still been strong enough to laugh at that suggestion. No matter what happened, I would never go back there, and I would never allow Leisel to go back there either.

Because she deserved better than that place, she deserved so much more. She certainly deserved better than this world.

No matter how much she begged and pleaded, I wouldn’t relent. And so then the tears came, the sobs and the shrieking, and with them more guilt was piled onto my already aching and fracturing heart. How could I do this to her? She couldn’t do this without me. I’d die and then she’d die, and then what would have been the point? What had everyone fought and died for if neither of us was going to make it?

But now, looking into her eyes and seeing such steely determination within them, was like a gift from an unknown force. Not from God, because I no longer believed in God, but maybe something else, definitely something stronger than either of us.

There was no more fear or anger in her features, there was sadness and grief, but beyond that there was strength, and the cold, hard truth of what was coming.

This was it.

My final act.

Our final act.

Together.

“It’s time,” I whispered, my throat clogged and painfully tight. “I can’t—”

Interrupted by coughing, I choked on more blood and phlegm, feeling it splatter across my chin.

“I love you,” I said, trying again. “I’m…”

As my entire body went utterly lax, my words trailed off and my vision darkened. A coppery taste filled my mouth, and suddenly I was convulsing, my body violently thrashing in Leisel’s arms. Yet I couldn’t feel it, not in the sense that it was actually happening to me. It was more as if my body were no longer my own, as if I were no longer inside it but instead looking down at myself, seeing my own body jerking and shuddering, watching as Leisel attempted to hold me down, her sobs growing louder.

I wished I could have told her how much I loved her one last time, how forever grateful I was that I’d had the privilege of being her friend. But more than anything, I wished I could have made her one more promise—the promise that I would see her in the next life, and that I would be waiting for her with Shawn and Thomas. And that until that day, the three of us would be watching over her. Protecting her. Always.