Page 133 of Mate Me

Este lindo niño / This lovely boy

se quiere dormir… / wants to sleep

cierra los ojitos / He closes his eyes

y los vuelve a abrir. / and opens them again.

Clara’s breath stuttered through her coughs and tears, and I sniffled as my voice gave out at the end. “You’ll always be my Jo, Ru’than.Always.”

As though he’d waited for me to say goodbye, his body shimmered, breaking apart into gold particles that drifted on an errant wind that had no business being in a room. They swirled almost playfully around me first, then Clara, then Caius—lingering there while he closed his eyes whispering his thank you—then it disappeared.

Heaving sobs wracked Clara’s body, and she hugged herself, shaking her head. I held her, while Caius held me. Time passed, though I didn’t know how long, and eventually a numbness settled in.

“I thought you knew what he was,” I said, facing Caius, wiping tears from my face.

He pulled me close, resting his chin on my head. “His eyes were familiar. I thought he was a descendant of Ru’than’s. Primordials can sire children or birth them. The day I met him was the day I walked through the door and saw you. He knew what I was, and he obviously cared for you. In my mind, whoever he descended from didn’t matter. I had no idea .. .”

“He was always so special. So calm and filled with wisdom that none of us could ever understand,” Clara said, then blowing her nose on her shirt and not caring at all. “Now we know why.”

“I wonder if he knew about Abyssian’s betrayal,” I said, glancing at the bastard’s body.

“If he did, he wasn’t able to say it, for whatever reason. The laws of the universe that governed his transition from primordial to god is unknown. It varies. He obviously retained the knowledge throughout countless reincarnations. Maybe he wasn’t able to speak on it, or maybe he didn’t know, and his regret formed in not standing on my side that day,” Caius answered, and he looked off in the room, focusing on something that wasn’t there. A memory, perhaps. One day I would ask him.

I kicked my leg out, my foot making contact with Abyssian’s arm with a hard whack. “What do we do with him? Burn him? Bury him? Dump him in shallow grave? I happen to know a few.”

“He’s not technically dead yet,” Caius said, his voice low.

“What?”

“He hasn’t crossed the veil. His soul is lingering.”

Clara scoffed. “Not for long.”

Electricity sparked in the room, and I snapped my attention to her. Hatred flashed in her eyes, the loss of her little brother filling her with what I assumed to be rage. Rage and I were well acquainted today.

Just as mine had been, her rage was directed at him.

I had never seen this side of her before.

Magic swirled around her hands—spirit magic.

Throwing her arm out, she pulled at Abyssian’s soul, urging it to come to her. An orb of gray and swampy green shadows pulsed with palpable fear. It tugged back, trying to escape her clutches, but she weaved her spells, muttering under her breath.

A muffled cry, barely audible, and completely inexplicable, sounded as the last of the misty colors entered the orb.

With a grin of venomous satisfaction, she held it over her palm.

“What are you going to do with that?” I asked, having a pretty good idea already of what her answer might be.

“Oh, I have plans for him.”

“Good. I hope he suffers.” I nodded, curling into Caius’s side. He engulfed me in his arms once more, whispering against my hair.

“I thought I lost you.”

“I thought I was gone too. That I wouldn’t see you again or say goodbye, but I wasn’t going to let him have your soul,” I said, lowering my eyes. “I’m so sorry you still aren’t whole.”

“I’m whole because of you, Reagan. Soul or no soul, you already had my heart.” He kissed me gently, holding my face and cradling me like he never wanted to let go.

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