This Side of the Grave (Page 51)

He’d been near the side of the bed when I started talking, but was in my arms before the first tear fell. Very softly, his lips brushed over those wet streaks, coming back pink from the drops still shimmering on them.

"No matter what happens, you will never lose me," he whispered. "I am forever yours, Kitten, in this life or the next."

A poignant sort of pain flowed over me, because I knew what he was promising with that statement, and what he wasn’t. Bones couldn’t swear that we’d never be separated. Being undead didn’t give any of us a claim on immortality; it just made us harder to kill. Unless Bones and I happened to be slain at the exact same time, one day, either he or I would know the grief of being without the other. I meant it when I said I wouldn’t want to go on if Bones were dead, but hard lessons from the past showed that I’d have to. Or Bones would have to go on without me. No matter how many enemies we defeated, or what impassioned promises we made to each other, this was the harsh reality.

And maybe that reality was what my last few inner shields had been trying to protect me from. Admitting that I’d be irrevocably broken without Bones meant accepting that it would happen. One day, we’d be separated. Not by our will, or even through any potential fault of our own, but through the cold, merciless barrier of death. Unless we died fighting back to back, it would happen. I’d put off being as open as Bones was about how he resided in every crevice of my heart because nothing scared me more than acknowledging that harsh, inevitable reality.

Now that I finally had, the strangest kind of relief flowed over me, covering even the pain.

Holding back had done nothing to change the truth of how I felt, or of our inevitable circumstances. I’d only been fooling myself, but even worse than that, I was also cheating the time Bones and I did have together. No one knew their own fate. We could have hundreds of years together. Thousands. Or only ten minutes before a meteor struck the house and vaporized me but missed him, for all we knew. Our time together was finite, and that was all there was to it.

But now, I also finally understood what Bones already knew. Just because death would eventually separate us, that didn’t mean it would destroy what we had. I am forever yours, in this life or the next. Some things could penetrate even the formidable barrier of death, and love was one of them. Even if death kept me from being with Bones for a while – or him from me – it couldn’t keep us apart forever. In the end, nothing could, and at long last, I understood that.

"You’ll never get rid of me, either," I said, and my laughter came out thicker from tears.

"No matter which side of the grave we’re on. I’ll haunt you, chase you all around eternity, whatever it takes, but it’s you and me until the stars burn out." I barely had time to see his smile before his mouth moved over mine with slow, blistering intensity. It wasn’t the skillful way he kissed me that made my chest tighten as though my heart might start up again at any moment. It was the last wall falling down between us.

"Bones," I breathed, long moments later when he lifted his head. "There’s something I want to do once this mess with Apollyon is over."

The seriousness of my tone made him pull back slightly. "What’s that, luv?" I whispered it to him, seeing his brows go up, his slight frown, and then at last, his nod.

"If that’s what you want."

I stared at him, more of that tightness swelling up in my chest.

"It is."

Chapter Twenty-six

Fabian came toward me. He couldn’thave smiled any wider if I was holding out a plate of ectoplasmic cookies, which, of course, I wasn’t, because to my knowledge, such a thing didn’t exist. I smiled back, giving Fabian an abbreviated version of a hug, which pretty much meant I put my arms in a half circle around the general area where he floated. From my peripheral vision, I saw Vlad roll his eyes, but I didn’t care. I hugged friends when I hadn’t seen them in a while, and Fabian might not be solid, but he was still a friend.

"Save one for me, too?" Dave asked, appearing behind the ghost.

I laughed as I gave him a big squeeze next, this time feeling the person in my arms. Dave fluffed a handful of hair when he let me go, grinning as he took in my latest disguise.

"With the new black hair, dark eyes, and tanned skin, you almost look a little bit Latina.

Juan would need to be pried off you if he saw you like this." I let out a snort. "I doubt it. Juan acts a lot more respectful since he became a vampire.

Hardly tries to grab my ass at all now. Guess because Bones already killed him once, Juan doesn’t want to provoke him into a repeat."

Just talking about Juan made me miss him, unrepentant pervert that he was, and that made me miss everyone else back at the compound, too. It also made me think of my uncle and mother with a fresh spurt of anxiety. It was a small offense compared to what Apollyon intended to do, but I hated him for more than just using me to attempt to provoke a clash between ghouls and vampires. I also hated Apollyon for robbing me of spending time with Don in what might turn out to be the last few months of his life, and for denying me more opportunities to talk sense into my irrational, death-tempting mother.

I shook my head, clearing that out of my thoughts before I started to endlessly stew over my stubborn family. Dave said hello to Vlad and Mencheres, then flopped onto the couch, looking tired. He didn’t have long before he had to get back, but he’d said this message was something he wanted to deliver in person.

"The meeting I went to last night was more like a rally and a seminar combined," Dave started without preamble. "Apollyon wasn’t there, but the keynote speaker was a ghoul named Scythe who sounded just as fanatic. Preached about how vampires have been holding ghouls down for millennia, blah, vamps are evil, blah. Then he started on how you changed over but still had an occasional heartbeat, so you could still turn into a vamp-ghoul hybrid. And once that happened, you’d be leading the vampire charge to subject ghouls to slavery."

"That’s such bullshit!" I snapped, unable to stuff it back. Then I got ahold of myself.

Everyone here already knew that.

"Go on," I said to Dave, in a less strident tone than before.

"I’m not sure how true this is, but Scythe said that the ghoul movement to ‘take back their rightful place’ was gaining ground all over America. That they’d start the war here, because vampires had a weaker hold here than in Europe. Then, once they’d thrown off the vampire shackles in the States, they’d move on to the rest of the world."

"If Cat is still being used as the focal point behind this fang oppression rhetoric, you’d think more of his followers would question why Apollyon doesn’t just unite them together to kill her," Vlad noted, as if he were discussing squashing a bug. If he hadn’t proved himself to be a good friend many times over, I’d be insulted.