Immortal (Fallen Angels #6)(63)
Author: J.R. Ward

The good news was that the sidewalk went on forever. Striding forward, she swung her arms and punched her legs into the ground and pretty soon she was going by the house next to theirs. And then the next one. And the next after that.

“Go back, go back, go back,” she muttered as she began to pant.

And she wasn’t talking about to the kitchen to clean up her epic cake fail. She just wanted to return to that moment when the impulse for some Rocky Road ice cream had hit her while she’d been sitting on the couch at her parents’, watching Pitch Perfect. It was one of her favorite movies in spite of her not being a big Anna Kendrick fan—too elfin with those little bitty lips and the big teeth and the pointy features. But she’d loved Rebel Wilson and Hana Mae Lee.

It had been right as Rebel was saying, “My real name is Fat Patricia,” that the hankering had hit and she’d decided to pause the movie, go for the keys to her mom’s Subaru, and head out. The plan had been to get the ice cream, go back to house to finish things up, and start in on either While You Were Sleeping or The Blind Side.

She’d always had a girl crush on Sandra Bullock—

Sissy stopped dead and realized it was all past tense. Not just the nuances of that evening that had turned her life into a nightmare, but all the things she’d used to like. Do. See.

Be.

Putting a hand on her lower belly, she looked down at her body. “I should have been able to choose.”

“I agree.”

She gasped and wheeled around, bringing her hands up to throw a punch. But it was just Jim.

“You followed me,” she said roughly.

“Yeah. I did.”

She dropped her hands. Then crossed them over her chest. Then dropped them again. “I don’t want this anymore. I don’t … want to be here anymore.”

With resonant sorrow of his own, he reached up and brushed both of her cheeks—which was how she figured out she was crying.

“I know,” he whispered. “I know.”

Pacing around him, going on and off the sidewalk, she shook her head. “If you find out who the next soul is, and you win that round—what happens? Am I still stuck here in this netherland? I mean, I’ve been to Hell and I don’t want to go back there. But I’m neither here nor there now—can I go to Heaven? Can you send me there? Please?”

As she stopped and looked up at him, she could see his wings, the shimmering outlines glowing in the dark—and the sight made her feel like she’d gone to the right place with the request maybe. After all, she’d been to Sunday school; she knew that there was a Heaven—or at least, she’d been told there was.

“Jim?” she said in a small voice. “Can you please just let me go somewhere else?”

It was so funny, Jim would later reflect. The heart, as it turned out, could break in a million different ways: It didn’t have to be a loss or a death. No, the inability to help someone you loved was shattering.

You’d have thought he’d learned that earlier with his mother.

And maybe he had. Which meant this moment out here with Sissy was one hell of a refresher course.

And there was a selfish part of him that wanted to keep her with him. If she went up to the Manse of Souls, he couldn’t get to her; they’d be separated, maybe forever. On the other hand, she was clearly at her breaking point, the stuff about the pregnancy having sent her into a kind of despair he could only guess at.

He’d never wanted kids. Wasn’t interested in them, couldn’t have cared less.

Although if there had been a chance of having one with her …

Shaking himself back into focus, he dragged a hand through his hair and wished he had a cigarette—especially as he remembered the sight of her across the kitchen, beating the ever-loving shit out of that cake batter. Good God, he’d thought he was going to have to surgically remove that wire whisk from her hand.

“What,” she said dully. “Just fucking say whatever it is, okay? At this point, there is absolutely no bad news that is going to make me feel worse than I do.”

“I think Devina’s inside of you.”

As she blanched and stopped breathing, his own fury curled in his gut. That fucking demon. If it was the last thing he did, he was going to—

“What do you mean?” she choked out as she wrapped her arms around herself.

“It’s a function of your having been to Hell. At least as far as Ad and then Eddie explained it to me. Even after you left there … there’s something inside of you.”

“I think I’m going to be sick.”

As she dropped to her knees and braced her hands on the grass, he knelt beside her. “But I think we can do something about it.”

Sissy let out a retching sound, her back heaving.

Gritting his teeth, it took every ounce of self-control he had not to find Devina right at that second and murder her with his bare hands.

“Just breathe,” he heard himself say as he helped her stay off the ground.

As a car came around the turn in the lane, he stiffened, thinking that if it was a Mercedes without a hood ornament, he was going to—

Nope. It was a Rolls-Royce, believe it or not.

When Sissy stopped coughing in that horrible way, he took her into his arms and held her to his chest. On the one hand, the difference in their sizes made him feel powerful. On the other, it was just a reminder of how impotent he actually was in this situation: Physical brawn wasn’t going to do shit for her.

But one of those crystal knives …

Playing back what he’d done to Vin diPietro in the first round got him on the nausea train, too, but what choice did he have? And he certainly wasn’t going to trust anyone else to do it.

She pulled back. “How long have you known?”

“About you?” He shrugged. “Not very long. I mean, I think you have a right to be pissed off—but there’s another edge to your anger.”

“What do you have to do?”

“How about we go back to the house?”

“That bad, huh.”

“It’s nothing we can’t manage.” Shit, he hated lying to her. “Come on, let’s go back. Eddie knows everything and he can explain what’s going to happen—if you decide to go that route.”

Sissy went still, then looked up at him. “When is it going to end?” she choked out.

Hopefully not tonight, he prayed. “Soon. And it’s going to be okay. I’m going to make it okay.”