Ashes to Ashes-Blood Ties 3 (16 page)

"No. I will be fine. I just need to get myself…under control." There was a hesitant sniffle. He leaned his forehead against the door. Part of him wanted to order her to stop being

Create PDF
files without this message by purchasing novaPDF printer (
http://www.novapdf.com
)

such a big baby. Another part wanted badly to comfort her. She wasn't a fragile, wilting flower. She was Bella, the ice princess, the stone cold assassin, the hottest, sexiest, meanest woman he'd ever had the great good fortune to fuck. She hadn't cried when he'd stitched up her slashed leg sans local anesthetic in Nathan's living room. Something had to be seriously bothering her to create such a reaction, and he had a feeling he knew exactly what that something was.

She didn't like being helpless. More specifically, she didn't like being helped. Max knew the feeling well. People who spent their lives—or afterlives, as the case may be—alone liked to believe they were islands unto themselves. If they needed someone once, they might need someone again, and that someone might not be there a second time. Max had been through that pain. From the way she was acting, he knew Bella had, too. Still, he couldn't leave her crying on the bathroom floor. "Do you want anything out of your bag? Pajamas or anything?"

Stupid thing to ask. All the question did was bring painfully arousing memories to mind. Bella didn't wear pajamas. It was almost unbelievable that she wore underwear.

"I do not have any." She gave another sniff. "May I borrow your shirt?" Max threw a glance to his duffel bag on the bed. "Yeah, I'll get you one."

"No. May I have the one you are wearing?" she requested, timidly, if she could manage such a humble state.

He plucked the fabric between his thumb and forefinger and pulled it away from his chest, frowning at it. She was sick, he reminded himself, so it wasn't his place to argue. "Yeah, sure."

The door opened a crack as he peeled the garment over his head. Bella's naked arm snaked out to grab it, and the door closed again.

Shaking his head, Max went to his makeshift bed next to the wall. He shucked his jeans and lay down, wincing as his muscles, cramped from the long drive, adjusted to the hard floor. He pulled the sheet over his lower half—no use having her think he was insensitive enough to proposition her after her barf-fest—and tried to convince his body that going to sleep at this early hour was a good idea. He'd need to be well rested once they reached the Oracle.

A click alerted him that Bella had emerged from the bathroom. Her hair, usually scraped back severely into a long braid, hung limply around her face. Max realized he'd never seen her with her hair down, even when they had slept together. She pushed a few dark strands behind her ears and folded her arms over her chest. She wore the shirt like a suit of armor, hugged it like a security blanket.

"It has your smell," she said quietly. "I have missed it."

"That's…" He closed his eyes. If he didn't look at her, if he couldn't see how vulnerable she was, he could stay mad at her for walking out of his life. "Creepy." No, it wasn't that she had walked out; it was that she'd done it so easily. His anger was fading now that he knew it not to be true, and that was dangerous. Her voice was uncharacteristically small. "You always make a joke." His throat tightened. How did she manage to make him feel like shit with a few simple words? Did she practice? "It never bothered you before." He felt her warmth as she knelt beside him. His leg jerked when she placed her palm on his knee.

Create PDF
files without this message by purchasing novaPDF printer (
http://www.novapdf.com
)

When he opened his eyes, the look on her face made him bolt upright. She was pale, paler than sicknes should have made her, and her eyes were wide and scared.

"Christ, Bella, what's wrong?" He put his hand on her arm and she reached for it, entwining her fingers with his.

"Promise me," she begged, squeezing his hand. "Promise me whatever happens, whatever comes of the time we have left together, that when I am gone, you will do what is right in my memory."

As if touched by the hand of Death himself, Max felt a chill run up his spine. "What are you talking about?"

"You know I saw through the Oracle's eyes." She dipped her head, and a tear rolled down her nose.

"We don't know anything yet." He pulled her hand down, capturing the other and bringing them both to her lap. "Some of that stuff you're seeing might not be true."

"I know it to be true." Bella looked up, eyes blazing. It was a comforting sight. She appeared more like herself than she had before. "And I see horrible things. If I do not live, there will be things left to take care of. Promise me you will do what needs to be done."

"Fine. You want me to notify your next of kin, I will." He tried to laugh it off. "But I'm telling you, you'll be fine." He nearly bit his tongue to stop himself from adding, "Be
cause
I won't let anything happen to you
."

She didn't argue, but he could see she wanted badly to tell him he was wrong. He didn't want to hear it. "You're tired. You were sick. You're probably dehydrated. Go drink some water and get some sleep."

"I do not want water." She lifted one of his hands to her lips. "Sleep with me?"

"No offense, but watching you gag up two days' worth of chow isn't a big turn-on for me." He pulled his hand back. "Another time, maybe."

She smiled. "No. I meant, sleep beside me. Hold me."

"I can't tell you no." He pointed to the window and the dubious sun protection provided by the blanket. "But if that doesn't hold, I could be fried in a few hours."

"Then get up in a few hours and move." She clasped his hand as she rose, and tried to bodily haul him onto the bed, where they collapsed in a laughing heap. The playful moment didn't last nearly long enough for Max.

Later, when he thought she was asleep, and took the chance to wind a lock of her hair around his finger, she whispered, "I am afraid to die." His heart squeezed painfully in his chest. There was no way he was letting her die, but a part of him warned he should stop this reckless closing of the gap between them, just in case.

But he was tired of constantly living on the defensive. He couldn't do it anymore, not where Bella was concerned. He pulled her tighter to his side, hoping he wasn't just making the most of the time they had left.

I tried not to make it obvious to Nathan, but I was climbing the walls as the time to meet Cyrus drew nearer. What would I say to him? What would he say to me? Would we fight?

Would I pity him? Would I do something stupid, like I had the last time?

Would I find the place?

It hadn't occurred to me until then that I didn't know where Cyrus lived.

Create PDF
files without this message by purchasing novaPDF printer (
http://www.novapdf.com
)

As soon as we'd crawled from bed, Nathan had gone right back to the books. I'd had to politely remind him to dress himself, he was so immersed in his research. After the dramatic grumbling and complaining he'd done then, I hated to bother him for anything else.

But this was kind of an important detail. "When you were on the phone with Cyrus, did he happen to give you directions?"

"Hmm?" Nathan looked up from the volume in his lap. "To do what?"

"Directions to his house." I rolled my eyes. "How am I supposed to get there if I don't know where it is?"

"You could call him. I'm sure he's awake." Nathan turned back to his book with a derisive sniff. "He is human now. He's probably eating dinner." I looked at the clock. It was nine. Dahlia had probably been and gone by now. I dialed Cyrus's number.

When he answered, he sounded distracted and slightly out of breath. I didn't let myself dwell on the possible reasons why. "How do I find you?"

"Very well, thanks." He paused. "You mean, how do you find where I live?" I groaned an affirmative.

With a sigh, he said, "I'd hoped it wouldn't come to this. Listen, I live very close to you. Why don't I meet you on the corner in front of the Brandy wine?" I frowned. Aggressive raindrops battered the window-panes, and I'd heard a rumble of thunder not long before. Why was he being so difficult? "How about you just tell me where you live?"

"Fine." He gave another heavy sigh. "I live, you will be pleased to know, just down the street from you, in the big gray house with the rainbow-striped American flag out front." In the spirit of friendship—no matter how weird and disordered—I held off a foghorn laugh and just snorted.

"Oh, it's terribly funny. It will please you more to hear that my apartment is in the basement. You have to go around the back and down the stairs." The bitterness in his voice tugged a little pity from me. "I assume it used to be a servants entrance, before the place was divided up."

"It can't be all bad," I began, but he cut me off.

"I have to go. I'll see you tonight." He hung up without saying goodbye. At nine-thirty I kissed Nathan on the cheek to draw his attention out of his book.

"Leaving already?" He captured my hand and gave it a squeeze. Though he tried to block it from the blood tie, I felt his desperation.

Stop worrying. It's you I'm coming home to.

He smiled up at me. "I know, sweetheart."

"Then let me go, and don't worry about me." I didn't think he would follow my instructions, but it was worth a shot.

At least he pretended to be okay until I left. That was a huge step for him, and I was proud he could manage it. Besides, I couldn't feel guilty. This was what we'd come back for.

The house Cyrus described wasn't far. Despite the rain, I walked. The wet had never bothered me, at least not since I'd learned in med school that it wasn't wet hair but a virus that caused the common cold. In fact, I kind of liked the rain.

Create PDF
files without this message by purchasing novaPDF printer (
http://www.novapdf.com
)

As Cyrus instructed, I went to the back door, which opened onto a bare landing. My choice was up or down, and both passages were illuminated by lightbulbs swinging from cords.

"Snazzy," I whispered with a little amusement. Truly, it was a case of the mighty falling far.