Darkness Splintered

“No, but I wouldn’t have banished you.” My gaze dropped briefly to his scars, and my stomach twisted again. “And you wouldn’t have been hurt.”



He made a short, sharp movement with his hand. “It is the price I paid for foolishness.”



I frowned. “What is that supposed to mean?”



“It means, I was foolish enough to believe you trusted me,” he bit back, and there was no holding back his anger this time. It was evident in his voice, and it blistered through the link, strong enough that I took a step back in surprise. “Foolish enough to believe you would understand why I would never harm you.”



“But I do trust you —”



“No, you do not,” he cut in again. “Always, in everything I do, you search for a motive.”



“Because there always has been one!” My voice rose again, but I couldn’t help it. “You, the Raziq, my father, Hunter – hell, even Jak – every one of you came into my life wanting something from me. It was not about me. It was never just about me.”



“You know that was not the case with the two of us. Not in the end.”



“And how would I know that, Azriel? You fought our relationship until the bitter end and, even then, only gave in because you needed to recharge so you could heal me.”



“Because I could not bear to see you hurt like that again. It would kill me.”



His words sung through me. He might never come out and say he loved me – hell, for all I knew there was no reaper equivalent of love – but he’d finally acknowledged that he cared, deeply, and that was really all that mattered right now.



But it didn’t erase any of the problems that stood between us. The barrier of being from different worlds might now have disintegrated because of his actions, but that didn’t lessen any of the other problems. Quite the opposite, in fact.



“And you not being completely honest is killing me,” I said softly. “There’s been too many secrets and half-truths between us, Azriel. If we’re to have any hope of a long-lasting relationship, then that has to stop.”



He studied me for a moment, his expression as still as ever save for that muscle along his jawline. And it spoke volumes. “And this is what you wish? A long-lasting relationship?”



“I don’t know if it’s possible, Azriel. There’s more to our differences than just physiology.” I hesitated, and gave him a twisted half smile. “But yeah, I’d like to at least see if this thing between us could become permanent.”



“Why?” His voice was still harsh. Unforgiving. And yet, just for an instant, a turbulent mix of joy and fear surged down the link, briefly threatening to fry my mind. “Do you wish it because we are now tied through eternity and you have little other choice? Or is it merely for the sake of our son that you desire it?”



Shock coursed through me and for a moment I could do nothing more than stare at him. Then I licked my lips and said, a little hoarsely, “Our son? We’re going to have a son?”



He smiled. It was like sunshine breaking through storm clouds, and it bathed me in a heat that echoed through every part of me. “Yes. I felt his resonance when I pulled your soul back from the brink of death.”



I stared at him for a moment longer, then threw myself across the distance that divided us. His arms came around me, his hug fierce, as if he never intended to let me go again.



“You have no idea how ridiculously happy that makes me.” I pulled back a little, my gaze searching his. “But to answer your question, I don’t want a relationship because I’m stuck with you or because I carry our child. I want a relationship because I woke up this morning and realized I might just damn well love you, despite your being one of the most pigheaded, stubborn, and downright frustrating beings I’ve ever known.”



He took a deep, shuddering breath, and slowly released it. He skimmed my cheek, then my lips, leaving them tingling with warmth as he tucked his fingers under my chin and gently tilted it upward. “Those words are a music I never thought I’d hear.”



Then he kissed me. Softly, sweetly, tenderly. And there was so much warmth and caring swirling through the link it felt like I was drowning. But oh, what a way to go.



The kiss, however, ended far too swiftly for my liking. I growled softly, and he half smiled. “I know, and I’m sorry, but we still have a problem.”



“And what might that be?”



“I am no longer the Mijai assigned to this case. My task now lies with defending the gates, rather than you.”



I frowned. “Even though I carry your child?”



“It is my duty, not my desire. Believe that.”



“Well, duty can fuck off. And so can the powers that be. I want you guarding me, and no one else.”



“It is not that easy —”



“It is that easy,” I bit back. “Or they can forget any fucking hope of me giving them the keys.”



He was silent, his gaze suddenly distant, distracted. After a moment, he said quietly, “The powers that be suggest withholding the keys from them would not be wise.”



My heart just about stopped. “They’re listening in to our conversation?”



“Of course. You are now Mijai to-be, so discussions of importance, such as this, will always be monitored.”



Celestial eavesdropping. Just what we needed. I shrugged, a casual movement that belied the tension riding me. “What’s the worst they can do? Kill me again?”



“It would bring you under their control more fully,” he said. “You will, after all, become Mijai after your next death.”



“Which means squat. It’s not like they can go all autocratic on my ass and force me to do their bidding, is it?” I hesitated, frowning suddenly. “Is it?”



“No, that is not their way. They can, however, make life rather unpleasant.”



My gaze dropped briefly to his scars. If they were a result of “unpleasantness,” then it definitely wasn’t something I wanted to face. But I wasn’t about to try to find the other keys without Azriel by my side, either.



“We started this together, we finish it together. End of story, Azriel.” I took a deep breath, then added resolutely, “And if they don’t like it, then hey, they can do their worst. As I told my dad this morning, I’ve been dead, and I’ve had all my future lives ripped away from me. There’s nothing much more they can do, except take you away from me. And that will only achieve the exact opposite of what they want.”



His expression went all distracted again. I waited – though I wouldn’t say patiently – and eventually he said, “They will accede to your wishes. However, they are less than happy.”



I snorted. “Like I really care.”



“You might when you become Mijai. They have long memories.”



“And we have a whole lot of shit to face and survive before we ever get to that point.” I hesitated. “If I die, I become Mijai. What happens if you die?”



“Reapers, like Aedh, are extremely long-lived, but we are not immortal. If I die, then I will become just another celestial star awaiting rebirth.”



“So reapers don’t move through heaven and hell gates like the rest of us?”



“No. We are energy, and we return to the cosmos that gave birth to us.”



Huh. “Then I guess you’d better make sure you don’t get dead, then.”



“That would be my plan also,” he said, voice solemn, but with a smile touching his lips. He gently tucked a stray hair behind my ears. “Tao returns, and you need to eat.”



Eating wasn’t what I wanted to be doing right now. Not when Azriel and the bed were in such close proximity. But the hours of life Mirri had left were steadily counting down, and it would be selfish to waste even ten minutes of it.



“Ten minutes,” Azriel commented, placing his hand against the base of my spine and ushering me toward the door, “is hardly enough time to warm up, let alone do justice to our lovemaking.”



“You obviously have never experienced the benefits of a quickie,” I said, amused.



“No, but if we survive this, then perhaps I might.”



“If we survive this, I’ll make sure that you do.”



Tao was standing in the middle of the living room, a brown paper McDonald’s bag in each hand. “Not sure where to put these. The sofas are sodden and the dining chairs are a write-off.”



“We can sit on the table.” Which had, surprisingly, survived pretty much unscathed, despite its close proximity to the kitchen. But then, it was made from aluminosilicate glass, and therefore had a higher melt point.



He nodded almost absently and, as I drew closer, the heat radiating off him caused pinpricks of sweat to roll across my skin. Shit. The elemental was threatening his control again.



I stopped beside him and gently touched his arm. He jumped; then his gaze swung to mine. Just for a moment, his brown eyes were consumed by fire; then he swallowed heavily and the danger retreated.



“I’m okay,” he said softly. More to convince himself, I suspected, than me. His gaze slipped past me. “Azriel, glad you made it back.”



“So am I,” Azriel replied.



Tao handed me one of the bags. Inside were a couple of Angus burgers with bacon and cheese, as well as a large fries. I parked my butt on the table and happily munched them down. Tao didn’t join me, but walked around as he ate. It was almost as if he was afraid to stand still. Afraid the monster inside would seize control again if he did.



My phone rang just as I was working my way through the fries, and the tone – a somber funeral march – told me instantly who it was.



“Fuck, it’s Hunter. I forgot to ring her earlier.” Mainly because it had totally slipped my mind after coming home to find this place a half-smoldering ruin.



“And she’s only just calling you now?” Tao said. “She must be in a good mood or something, because she was in a proper snit last time she contacted me.”