The vials tinkled in my hand as it shook. I was finally breaking down, and it felt good. I’d been strong for so long. There was something peaceful in giving up and letting go.
The cord that connected me to Andre throbbed; I could feel his tension from the very nature of our connection. Without using any of my other senses, I could tell he left the church.
But then I did hear the powerful, insistent footsteps of my soulmate crunch first along the dead leaves scattered between the chapel and the cemetery, and then against the dead, icy grass that grew between tombstones.
“Gabrielle?” The calm note to his voice alerted me that he was anything but. As he neared me, he slowed, like if he moved too quickly I’d startle and flee.
“I can’t do this forever, Andre,” I said. “I’m going to slip up, and when I do, someone will kill me.”
His footsteps neared until he was right behind me. “What happened?” He might as well have asked who he needed to kill, with the menace that laced his tone.
I rubbed my eyes, and my fingers came away with streaks of blood. “It doesn’t matter.” My chin shook. “He’s going to get me.” It was only a matter of time before I was well and truly damned.
Andre knelt beside me and turned my face. “He’s not going to get you. I’m not going to let him.”
“Stop making empty promises, Andre,” I whispered.
His grip tightened on my chin and his mouth thinned. “The promise wasn’t an empty one.” I could see the fierce determination in his eyes. He’d kill for me. He’d even die for me, though it would mean the death of every other vampire still living. He wouldn’t hesitate to do either.
But it wasn’t his sacrifice to make. It was mine.
He took the vials from my hand, not commenting on the fact that there were four of them. He unstopped one and handed it back to me. “Drink,” he said.
I took the bottle from him and dumped its contents down my throat. My body seemed to close up at the intrusion, but I managed to choke it down.
Like the elixir given to me at my Awakening, Hestia’s concoction was both sweet and bitter. I wondered if that was the taste of the ingredients or the taste of powerful magic.
God, what does it matter?
A frown pressed into Andre’s features, as did a vertical wrinkle between his brows. Anger and anguish looked the same on his face. “Stop it,” he whispered.
“What?”
“Acting like you don’t care. Where is your faith?”
Gone. My faith was gone.
“Do you remember what I told you in Romania?” he asked.
I shook my head. He’d told me a lot of things.
“Belief—not fate—rules the world. And I believe in us.”
I waited until I knew my voice was under control before I spoke. “I do too, Andre,” I said. “I do. But between heaven, hell, and earth, I don’t think my belief holds much sway.”
“Damnit, Gabrielle,” he gathered me into his arms, “I haven’t waited centuries for you just to watch you die.” His voice broke at the end of that last word.
A seven hundred year old vampire, a damned creature who had supposedly lost his humanity long before we’d ever met, was coming apart around me.
“We are going to see this thing through,” he said, “and while there’s life in you, you are going to live.”
I nodded, not because I agreed with him, but because I couldn’t stand the thought of Andre fighting for the both of us alone.
“Can you promise me something?” I asked as I stood up.
“Depends,” Andre said. He sure wasn’t in the most agreeable of moods.
“If I die—”
“No, soulmate,” he stopped me.
“Yes,” I said. “If I die, you need to promise me that you’ll live on.”
His eyes flashed. “You cannot ask that of me.”
“But I am. Promise me, Andre.”
“No.” The muscle in his jaw ticked and he stared back at me defiantly.
“I’m not saying I’m going to die, I just need to hear you say it. I’ve escaped the devil twice now. Who’s to say I can’t do it again?” The words felt like a lie as I spoke them. True, I had escaped the devil twice, and technically there might be a way to extricate myself from his clutches yet again. But I didn’t believe it. Not really.
Andre stared at me, his eyes stormy. “Fine,” he said, “I’ll agree to it, but you have to promise me something.”
“Go ahead.”
“Promise me that you’ll never stop fighting. Not now, not ever. Not here, and—God save us all—if you find yourself in hell.”
The wind was picking up, lifting my hair so that it brushed against my face. I’d spent mere months fighting the devil in earnest, and I was already beaten down. I couldn’t fathom fighting more. But gazing at Andre’s face and seeing his despair and his resolve gave me courage. Seven hundred years ago his father made a deal with the devil, a deal that damned Andre’s soul, and for seven hundred years Andre had kept the devil at bay. I could try holding Pluto off a little longer myself.
“I promise.”
He nodded, his face grim. “Good.” He stood and pulled me to my feet.
His nostrils flared, and his gaze sharpened. “Why do you smell of unholy things?”
Aw, crap, I’d forgotten.
“Demons on the ley lines,” I squeaked out.
Andre looked alarmed at this. “Ley lines?”
“Oliver and Leanne brought me back.” Only after the words had left my mouth did I realize they raised more questions than they answered.
The lines along Andre’s face deepened. “Where have you been for the last day?”
My throat closed at the memory of the bridge and waking up in that ring of fallen trees.
He must’ve seen the terror in my eyes, because he swore. “I’m going to kill that woman.” He started back for the church.
“No,” I grabbed his arm, “it was part of the deal I made with her.”
“Deal?” Andre’s brows slammed down. “Soulmate,” he said carefully, “we talked about this: you are not to make deals.”
Oh, he was being real reasonable.
“You wanted the seer’s shroud and I got it for us.”