Page 91 of Never Say Die
Shay’s chin dimpled. He snatched his journal and tucked it into his pocket. “Or I have nightmares like every other person on the planet.”
“You’re not like every other person. Neither is Aiden. You’ve cheated death, Aiden is a brujo whether he likes it or not, and the natural rules of this world bend for you both,” Maeve said. “You need to trust they’ll keep bending.”
Quiet filled the house. Finally, Shay sighed and asked, “Have you ever done this before?”
Aiden turned around on the sofa, drawing his socked feet to the cool cushion. Both women shook their heads. Kelly fed pieces of lunchmeat to her Pomeranian and gave Aiden a timid, tight-lipped smile. She hadn’t spoken, but he was certain she’d peeked into his thoughts. Glimpsed his future, maybe. Her smile was too small to be reassuring, but he smiled back, and hoped she remembered him like this. Not exactly kind, but not exactly terrible. Not a friend, but amaybe. Awe’re getting there. Awe could’ve been. No matter how long he’d spent trying to hate Kelly Angelica Crawford, he just didn’t. Maybe he saw himself in her strangled search for comfort, money, power—the good shit. Maybe he just liked her stupid dog.
Maeve sipped her spiked tea. “No, but Aiden has. I know you want this to be simple, but it won’t be. These things don’t understandease. They aren’t comfortable. It’d be best if you channeled what you’re feeling right now into the offering we’re about to make and hope there’s a satisfying ending to your prophecy.”
Shock cemented Shay in place. He licked a fang. Rolled his lips together. Shifted his gaze to Aiden and stayed there, staringat him, wedging open his ribcage. “No,” he said, miserably, and he sounded so,soyoung. “I can’t.”
The night bowed inward.
Aiden felt her like the rising tide, slipping around his ankles, sucking him into the sand. He knew the wood beneath her bare feet. Heard her heartbeat in line with his, and her voice—voices—hitched and ghostly, whispering at staggered volumes, like a radio stuck on six different channels. Fear arrived, unwelcome, but there, shooting through his elbows, churning his stomach, cinching every breath. He snatched the hunting knife and stood, glancing between Maeve and Shay.
“Don’t let him kill her,” Aiden said.
Maeve nodded curtly.
“Get me a candle,” Kelly said.
Aiden forced his legs to move, to carry him across the room, around Shay, and out the door. Shay didn’t follow at first, but a moment later, footsteps hit the grass and his breath turned choppy, quickening as he took Aiden’s shoulder and spun him.
“We’ll try something else,” Shay said, desperately.
Aiden shook his head. He took a slow step backward, then another, until he stood in a lonely patch of damp dirt between the house and the water. The swamp stirred, alive with hunting alligators, singing cicadas, and croaking toads. Dim light shone through the downstairs windows and haloed Shay.Do it,he thought, and kissed Shay on the mouth.Don’t do it.Gripped his hand and brought his fingers to the knife’s handle. Shay flinched away, burned or burdened.
“Shay, please,” Aiden whispered. Kissed him again. Placed his hand on the knife again. “She’s coming, okay? Right now. We don’t have time?—”
“Let’s go home—screw New York, screw the tour,” Shay said. His voice shook, dissolving into weak whimpers. “Just let me take you home.”
“I brought you back, you’ll bring me back,” Aiden said, because if he said anything else, he’d ramble until they ran out of time.I adore youandyou were always it for meandI’m sorryandit should’ve been meandlet me have this.
“I can’t do this.” Shay cried, just enough to make Aiden’s eyes water, and tried to pull his hands away. “I can’t, Aiden. I can’t. I won’t.”
One by one, Aiden sealed Shay’s palms around the handle and clutched his knuckles, blade hovering between them, pointed at Aiden’s very center, above his navel, below his sternum. “You’regood,” he said, trembling.“You always have been. Even at your worst, you’ve always been better than me. But I need you to trust me, for once, right now, right here.Trust me.”
Shay shook his head, mouth wobbling.
A wicked, primal howl echoed. Laura sprinted on the boardwalk, snapping her teeth, sending haunting cries into the bayou. Aiden glanced at her, just once.
Maeve blocked her path, “Now, Aiden,” she said, far too calmly.
“Look at me, Shay,” Aiden said.
“No,” Shay said, frenzied. He tried to pull his hands away, but Aiden kept him there. Squeezed, hard.
“I’m coming back,” Aiden said. He heard the rustle of Laura’s feet tripping through the grass. Her animal growls and Cit’s voice, screaming from her depths. But he didn’t look away, couldn’t look away, just stared into Shay’s pretty eyes. Those big, blue, Bambi eyes. He whispered, “Santa Muerte, cuida de mi amor.”
“Aiden,” Shay said, likedon’t, likeplease.
Laura clawed at the ground, ripping at roots and ferns. Her voice—all those voices—shot past her teeth.Ah, there you are.
Aiden thought,Camila, and stepped into the knife.
Pain, first. Abrupt and heavy. He pushed his weight intoShay. Skewered his body on the blade. Blood soaked his shirt, and he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak.Oh, he thought.So, this is what it feels like.He clamored for Shay. Felt his legs give out, wobbling, bending, breaking beneath him. Then hands on his face, on his waist, holding him.
Laura yelped. She hit the ground mid-sprint, writhing and bucking, feeling across her chest for the wound Aiden wore.
