Page 33 of A Lost Light

Trust didn't come naturally to me, at all. And this River guywasan admitted spy who had played one side against the other. But so far, I hadn’t picked up on any strange magical goings-on when no one was watching. And while he spent much of his time poking around in every nook and cranny of the place, it seemed it really was just an excess of curiosity, rather than any actual information gathering. I doubted the rebels, the SA,orthe cult were interested, for instance, in the number of violets in the garden, or the colorful old children's books in the back library. He was simply nosey.

I wasn't sure yet how I felt about his making Andy blow a gasket. I wanted to be mad at him. But at the same time… maybe she needed this. Maybe sheneededto get angry and fed up andsaynoonce in a while, for her own sanity. Most of the time she was far too good and soft-hearted. She always seemed to think it was her responsibility to fix every wrong in the world. But she was only one person. Eventually, something had to give.

I took advantage of the peace and quiet to continue translating one of the old grimoires I'd found. It was full of ancient, powerful spells—yes, some of them were grotesque, but some of them were quite good. Useful spells that took advantage of the innate properties of more common magic and used it to build something greater. That sort of tinkering had always fascinated me. And even with my experience and Sunshine's long memory, I was learning new things as I translated the tome.

I wasn't surprised when, after only about half an hour of work, I felt a familiar warm, powerful aura lurking nearby. I lifted my head from my work to find Elijah hovering in the doorway, looking a bit lost.

“Can I help you?” I asked evenly. The angel was a problem. I needed to talk to him. I had put it off long enough as it was.

He straightened his spine and pasted a nonchalant look on his unfairly handsome angelic face. “I'm sorry to interrupt. I was just… at loose ends. I wondered if you might need any help with anything?”

I held back a tired sigh. I could feel the connection between us even now, chiming with a soft sort of yearning. Elijah wanted to be near his master. His maker. I really was a monster.

“Elijah,” I said as gently as I could. “Come here. Have a seat. We need to talk.” I felt like a parent or a teacher, about to reprimand an errant child. And yet, there was nothing childlike about the sensations that pinged through me as he came closer.

Elijah's body had fully taken on his true form, what he must have looked like in his first life, when he was a mostly innocent and idealistic angel, full of devout compassion and so sure of his moral superiority. He was stunningly handsome. Even a walkingcorpse like me could appreciate that. He had that classical masculine beauty that sculptors had tried to capture since the beginning of time, all square jaw and chiseled features. Perfect lips. Long lashes framing vibrant blue eyes. And a tall, broad-shouldered frame that had grown toned and muscular without becoming bulky.

I cleared my throat and pulled my attention away from dangerous thoughts. Sunny chuckled darkly in the back of my mind.

“What is it?” the angel asked, his brow furrowed and his bright blue eyes full of concern as he sat down in a nearby chair, leaning over to put his hand on mine.

That right there. The concern. The easy touch. I was growing more comfortable with the way Andy and Ambrose—and even the ridiculous jinn—had apparently accepted my ghoulish looks. But Elijah and I didn't have this connection before I turned him into a revenant. This pull wasn't natural.

He shouldn't be touching me. Leaning into my space. He shouldn’t be worried about the concern he could probably sense through our bond—though hopefully he couldn’t sense my feelings as well as I felt his. I could sense more of his thoughts, his wants and needs, because I was the maker. The controller of the body he currently wore.

Usually that connection was used to direct the undead, to program them to go about their tasks, or to make them act to defend me. But this… this was entirely different. And it terrified me.

I withdrew my cold hand from underneath his warm touch and sat back in my chair. “I want to talk about our bond,” I said, trying my best to stay detached. Professional? To respect the power dynamic that now existed between us.

Elijah withdrew, placing his hands in his lap and looking down at them as he nodded. “Of course.”

I sighed. This was hard. Why was this so fucking hard? “I'm afraid that you might have gotten the wrong impression,” I said hating how stiff I sounded. “About us.”

He lifted his eyes then, his expression full of surprise. His golden cheeks flushed slightly, but he kept his gaze riveted on mine. “I feel… very drawn to you,” he admitted slowly. Then he winced. “I assumed you felt the same. I thought… I thought I sensed it, through our connection that day in the meadow.”

I shook my head. “It's complicated. Yes, in the heat of the moment, when our power connected, I felt drawn to you too. But you don't understand the maker's bond.”

He frowned at me. “The maker's bond?”

I nodded and tried to figure out how to best explain it. “Yes. When I animate a corpse, there is a bond. Even a dead thing retains some miniscule hint of its previous owner. An echo of the soul or a whisper of leftover essence. It is through that echo that I'm able to connect with and animate the dead.” I watched his face, not certain I was explaining any of this right. “Usually this bond is a one-way thing. I can feel a sense of where my creations are and what they are doing. If I focus, I can see through their eyes briefly. But there's really no true life involved. No emotion or feelings. No consciousness. No soul.” I rubbed a hand over my face. “With you it's different. You are, for all intents and purposes, alive. I've never created a revenant before. I should have anticipated the differences in the bond. And the consequences. I'm sorry, Elijah.”

He studied my face for a moment longer, processing what I had said. And I tried my best not to get lost in those bright blue eyes. “The consequences?” he finally asked.

I sighed. “Yes. These feelings you feel for me. The need to be close to me. To seek me out. The way you touched me so easily just now. Any feelings you think you might have toward me. They aren't real. It's just the maker bond.” I shook my head.“You aretiedto me, Elijah. For life. And I'll admit, I didn't fully think this through. I'm not used to taking into account thefeelingsof the creatures I animate. Your wellbeing is tied to mine. If I die, so do you. I think some part of you knows that, and wants to protect that bond. That’s all this is. Just magic and a natural sense of self-preservation.” I hated this. Every bit of it. I sounded just as cold as everyone always accused me of being. “I should have explained all of this before we proceeded,” I said sadly. “I should have thought it through. I should have known better. And for that I'm truly sorry.”

Elijah's wing branches flared briefly, glittering and golden as the sun. Then the glow died down. “I understand,” he said calmly. “Thank you for explaining it. But you don't need to feel guilty, Dyre. Even if I had known the consequences in more detail, I still would have chosen to live. I would have chosen this regardless.”

I stared into those guileless blue eyes, surprised yet again at his graceful acceptance of his current state. “You're just being kind,” I said at last. “Trying to make me feel better. It's what you do.”

He shook his head. “I'm not.” Then he swallowed hard and seemed to come to some decision. I froze when he suddenly launched himself at me, kneeling between my knees and slipping a hand behind my head to pull me down into a scorching kiss.

I fought the groan that wanted to escape. He tasted like… well,heaven.And the contrast between his light and my darkness was a heady drug that wanted to drag me in and never let me go.

But he wasn't doing this because he truly wanted me. It was all because of the damned bond. I forced myself not to respond. To keep my hands to myself. And slowly he sat back, staring up at me with a mixture of longing and hurt. “Dyre?”

“You don't want this. Not really. I told you, it's just the bond, making you do things you'd never even consider if your will wasyour own. And it probably doesn't help that you've been so long without a body. You're feeling things you haven't felt in a long time, physical urges, emotions, sensations. It will pass.”

“I… I see,” he said, sitting back on his heels, divinity kneeling at the feet of evil. Then he gracefully stood in one smooth, flowing motion, all angelic poise and calm. “I'm sorry for bothering you. I'll leave you to your book.”

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