My Immortal (Seven Deadly Sins #1)(74)
Author: Erin McCarthy

Damien sighed. "As am I."

"She held my hand, wanting comfort, I think." Rosa made a sound in her throat. "It was terrifying, the idea that someone was looking to me for comfort instead or sex or recklessness. But I think that I actually did it, I comforted her, because before she died, she smiled. It was beautiful, Damien, to see her at peace."

In the dark, he closed his eyes tightly, fighting back the emotion that crashed over him in big, violent waves. It didn’t take the pain away, but it helped. It did. Reaching out, he touched Rosa’s hand, threaded his fingers through hers. "Neither of us is as terrible as we fear, are we? I think there’s hope for us yet."

"Shit." She sighed. "I’m totally going to regret doing this, I just know, but then when have I ever done anything smart when it came to you?"

He glanced over at her. "What are you talking about?"

"I’m leaving Louisiana, heading north, but I wanted to tell you one last thing before I go." She leaned over, stared straight down at him. "Damien, you’re free. You’re mortal again."

It took him thirty seconds to process what she was saying. "Don’t f**k with me."

"No, I’m serious. I’m not supposed to tell you, because, well, my father finds it amusing to free servants and not tell them. Then when they do something, take a risk assuming they’re immortal, and die never knowing what hit them, he enjoys the irony."

Damien went up on his elbows. "You’re serious?" She looked serious. And for all the complexities of their relationship, he did trust her. Rosa had human compassion in her. Yet he didn’t feel any different.

She nodded. "Yes. So don’t kiss a cottonmouth, okay? You’ll be six feet under, and that would really upset me, I think."

"Did you do this for me?" He was suddenly touched beyond belief.

But she shook her head. "No, you did it for yourself. When you offered to sacrifice yourself for Marley, you showed yourself unworthy of the gift."

So that was that. The elusive answer.

Damien fell back on the grass and started laughing.

Sunday night Marley parked her car in Mt. Adams and picked her way through the parking lot of the church, glancing back at the monastery hovering precariously on the steep hill. She stood at the edge of the grass, where the railing separated the parking lot and pathway from the sudden incline, spilling the hillside straight down to the river.

She stared at the Ohio River in the dusk, at the landscape she’d known her entire life. This was home, yet she had returned different. Pensive and thoughtful, heart aching, but no longer feeling the hysteria she had at Rosa de Montana the night before. Alex wasn’t here, or Rosa, or Anna. Neither were Lizzie or Damien. It was just her and a future that was hers to determine.

A barge glided by, silent and large, rusty and weatherworn.

It had been the right thing to do, to leave. But it hurt, great slicing jabs of agony, and she felt raw, though determined. She would take the confidence she’d gained, the strength she’d honed, the convictions she’d sharpened, and she would live her life. On her terms. Her way.

Clutching the railing, she whispered, "Please forgive him," not sure if she was beseeching God or Marie or the whole of humanity. She just knew that Damien didn’t deserve to suffer anymore, and that he had paid for his mistakes ten times over.

That the punishment of lust should be followed by the redemption of love.

Marley stared at the water, seeing her answer. Then walked away.

Chapter Twenty-one

After he left Our Lady of Guadalupe Church, Damien felt satisfied. Giving Marie’s confession to the priest, requesting she be granted absolution posthumously, had been the right thing to do. It was what Marie deserved, even though he didn’t feel she actually needed forgiveness. She hadn’t been at fault. But forgiveness was what she had wanted. He couldn’t turn back the clock, couldn’t undo his mistakes or let her know that he had loved her, though badly and without maturity. This he could do, though, and hopefully she was at peace.

It had taken him over two hundred years, but he had found pieces of that for himself. Stepping into St. Louis #1, Damien walked the crowded rows of the cemetery and pulled out his cell phone. Since she’d left eight weeks earlier, Damien had had Marley’s number programmed into his cell. He’d been waiting for the right moment, for the courage, to call her. To tell her the change in his circumstances. To tell her he loved her.

He pushed send and hoped he would actually figure out how to say that when she answered.

"Hello?"

She sounded breathless, like she was rushing somewhere.

"Marley?" he said, his heart in his throat. God, he missed her.

The phone crackled, like she had propped it on her shoulder. "Who’s this?"

"It’s Damien, Du Bourg. In Louisiana," He rolled his eyes at himself. Like she knew twelve Damiens. He hoped she didn’t know twelve Damiens.

"Damien. Hi."

Was that pleasure in her voice or awkwardness? He couldn’t tell. "So, how are you?" He silently cursed himself for sounding like an idiot.

"I’m okay. You?"

"Yeah, about the same. Listen, um…" He smoothed his eyebrows and paused in the path. He had to do this. "I’m calling because I miss you, Marley. I want to talk to you. I was hoping I could come and see you in Cincinnati."

She said something, but there was a background noise, some kind of speaker voice on her end, and it drowned out her reply. It figured. Anything to prolong his torture.

"I’m sorry, I couldn’t hear you. Could you repeat that?"

She made a small sound. "I said I want to talk to you too. I’m actually at the airport right now."

"You’re coming to see me?" Well, alright. That was very promising. "What time does your flight get here? I’ll pick you up."

"It’s already here. I’m in the New Orleans airport. And I just got the keys to my rental car. Can I meet you at Rosa de Montana?"

"Of course. Sure. I’d love that. But why didn’t you tell me you were coming? I could have made arrangements." Bought a diamond ring.

She gave a nervous laugh. "I figured if I just showed up you couldn’t tell me not to come."

His nervousness all abated. He’d spent eight weeks worrying that she would no longer be attracted to him without the charm of the Grigori, but so far, things were sounding good. "I never would have told you not to come here. I want to see you."

"Good. I’ll see you in a couple of hours then, okay?"

"Perfect. And Marley?"

"Yes?"

"I love you." He’d never played it safe, and he wasn’t about to now. Might as well lay all his cards on the table.