Page 77 of The Child of Rue Royale
“It must unfold just as it should. I cannot meddle or get involved. But both of our futures are in its path. Breaking generational curses…I can’t see it clearly, but that’s what you must do. A child will need you. The most unexpected child. He will see.”
Almost there, and he’s doing so well, he’s going to remember, he’s going to remember.
But then the blood booms in his ear like a heartbeat, a throb that takes control of his senses. He says something to my grandmother, but I don’t understand what, and his eyes close, yet his mouth moves. It’slike slow motion, that robotic voice that’s stretched so far from a slowed speed, all you want to do is hit fast forward for it to make sense.
She’s at his ear, and he’s tipping down to her, but the blood beating is so deafeningly loud, and I focus so hard to just hear a portion. “When the sun can shine on the vampire. And the witch is tied to the pyre…” and then it goes out, the end trailing off to nothingness, Bastian losing focus, and Grandma’s turning as Cassius yells for her to step away, and Bastian’s leg crumbles from under him, the stars enveloping his vision, the night fading to black, the moment gone along with my grandmother, halfway down the alley.
OUR EYES SNAP OPEN INunison, his deep inhale bringing us back to the here and now. And his first words are, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I didn’t hear the whole thing.”
I stumble back, my hands falling to my knees, taking deep breaths. My jaw falls to my chest, and all I see are the tops of my scuffed Docs, my favorite pair.
“Are you okay?” Bastian kneels to my level, and my eyes float up to meet his.
“Yes, it just. Takes a lot.” But my heart is absolutely pounding and breaking at the same time because…I didn’t get the whole thing. I recite her words in my mind, the beginning of an incantation of some kind. “When the sun can shine on the vampire. And the witch is tied to the pyre…”
I stand as he crosses his arms in sheer frustration, his head falling against the Cabildo. “I can’t seem to get anything right.” He sighs, and I grab his arms, but they stay locked, folded against his chest.
“You remembered the beginning of something! That’s huge. Some kind of spell that wasn’t in Cassius’s book. And I got the beginning. That’s great, that’s wonderful. And it was the first try. You can remember more. This probably shook up your memory, and then all the pieces will fall into place.”
“I don’t remember. It’s not working. I’m failing!” His voice switches to a yell, and I inch closer to his face.
“Don’t yell at me,” I warn, and he rolls his eyes like a teenager which only frustrates me further. “Baby,” I say, closing in on him andplacing his face between my hands. “Let’s try again. Can you try again? Should we read the diary once more?”
“No,” he says, hands finally falling to his sides as he shoots a long breath out. “I’m sorry. I just want to come through for you. I want it so badly.”
“You just being here every day means you’ve come through for me. Okay? Let’s try again!” He nods, and I place my hands back on his face, I say the words that take me back to his memory, ignoring the people who walk by wondering what we’re doing. I can push them out, and I do. But only moments into the memory, I can already see that everything is exactly the same. Nothing has budged or changed, the words we need are incomprehensible, my grandmother’s whispers completely unintelligible, and now I think I made a huge mistake. We should have waited, we should have given him time, and now he’ll just feel like more of a failure.
“Fuck!” he yells, fists clenched when we come back, and I’ve never seen him like this before. He’s so…livid. And I hate that this is what he’s become. An angry man.
“Bastian,” I call, grabbing his elbows, exhausted from constantly reassuring him, exhausted from trying to convince him that he deserves to be here and it’s okay that everything isn’t perfect. “We fucked up and we fell in love, and it was the best mistake I have ever made, and now we are suffering the consequences for it but fixing it at the same time. No one died—”
He gives me an incredulous look, his eyebrows practically meeting his hairline.
“Okay…” I almost laugh. “You did. You died. But you’re back. And no one in either of our families died. We are picking up and moving forward, baby,” I say, my heart softening.
“I’m not a vampire anymore, I’m not special anymore. I can’t break someone in half with my bare hands, I can’t protect you. I don’t remember what I need to, and I can’t forget what’s torturing me.” His voice wavers, his neck so tense, the veins bulge. “I keep having nightmares, from the fire. The burning, I—I don’t want you to know…”
“Know what?”
“The pain, the torture. I can’t get it out of my mind.”
“Tell me,” I say, my voice hard as cement. “Tell me so I can know. You don’t have to carry all this pain inside you. We are partners now,we carry each other’s pain when it gets too heavy. Let me help you,” I plead.
My hand presses into his heart, the beat rapid, his lungs frantically gasping for air.
“Partners,” he scoffs.
“Bastian,” I reprimand and he turns serious.
“You mean that?”
“I might lie to myself, but I don’t lie to you.”
Something flashes in his eyes, my words filling a hole that must have been sitting empty since I brought him back.
“I can’t forget the pain,” he stammers. “The bubble of my skin igniting, the agony of when it hit the muscle, the searing of my very soul. But the worst, the worst is…I can’t get your face out of my mind. Your pain, your agony. I said those words to you, and I meant every one of them. I would do it over and over again, but I also couldn’t bear to see the agony I caused, Franklin caused. I hate myself for it. I hate him for it. I can’t seem to let it go, and I know it’s bothering you. So I keep it inside because I know you’re so stressed, but I wake up at night and it’s like, the memories and the rage are…swallowing me.” He grips his shirt with a fist, pounding his chest, his teeth clenched, the veins in his hand pulsating.
Something breaks inside me, my man, my love, his pain eating away at him, consuming him. I push a hand up his chest until it wraps around the nape of his neck.
