Page 67 of A Touch Of Death

Guilt because I was supposed to be keeping her safe.

Guilt because I didn't protect her well enough.

Guilt because she's back in that hell hole because of me.

"You're not to blame, Spencer," Zayn quietly admonishes. Though he says it with the calm quietness he often uses, there's steel behind his words. "You placed your body in the line of danger for Novia. You couldn’t have known it was a tranquiliser dart. You didn't even know you were seconds away from an ambush. It's no more your fault than it is mine, Nix, or Ezra's. Don't burden yourself with something like that. Don't place that kind of blame on your shoulders when it's certainly not deserved."

The room goes quiet, my mind working tirelessly to accept his words, to believe them, but that guilt won't subside.

"I feel like I failed her when she needed me most," I whisper into my hands.

Zayn looks at me, regarding me intently. He doesn't respond, only watches me, waiting for me to talk to him. To unburden my guilt, laying it on the floor for him to dissect, understand, and make sense of.

"She only had me there to protect her, and I was completely useless. All I managed to do was get shot and knocked unconscious while she was abducted for a second time. I feel like I could have done something different, done something to prevent her being taken. Just, done fucking anything else." My headache grows, the pain increasing at my temples, while the anvil on my chest grows painfully heavy. I know the vampire is right; I didn't know what the hell Novia was being shot with until I'd taken a hit, but it still feels like I should have done something different. It feels like I should have taken better care of her. But I failed.

"You've always been too hard on yourself. In training, you were always the toughest on themselves, always working too hard, striving to be better at all costs. You did your best, Spencer. You protected her to the best of your ability with extremely little insight as to what was even happening. You couldn't have possibly done anything differently," he tells me. "You were ambushed, someone shot at Novia, and you pushed her out of the way. You protected her. It just so happens someone bested us this time."

I keep quiet, not really sure what to say. Sure, I acted on instinct. My arm darted out to move her out of the way before I could even comprehend what I was doing, before I realised I'd been shot with a dart. But what if I’d pulled her to me instead? What if I’d yanked us both out of the way?

Zayn sighs, long and tired. He looks exhausted, likely feeling the same as the rest of us. "What's the point of what ifs, Spence? What good will it do to always ask about what could have happened? It's in the past now, and it can’t be changed. I just need you to realise that what happened couldn't have been prevented, and you reacted just as any of us would have. It wasn't your fault, and the guilt you're carrying will only weigh you down until it buries you."

When I still remain quiet, Zayn says, "I'll let you in on a secret. Nix is beside himself, believing he's an idiot for leaving to get rid of the tracker that was in Novia's arm. He's feeling guilty. Ezra is withdrawn and committed to rescuing Novia because he believes he should have been doing something more than waiting around for my monster to die down. He's feeling guilty. Me? Spencer, I trapped her in the bathroom, frightened her, and then forced her hand into rendering me unconscious. Then I was carried home until I awoke, my monster still simmering at the surface despite my efforts to keep myself grounded. Only then to find out that our littlefaehas vanished into the wind. And I did nothing but scare her before then. I can assure you, I'm feeling guilty.

"We're all feeling it for different reasons, but your guilt isn't necessary or even yours to carry. You did what you could with what you had. Quit beating yourself up over it when the three of us are feeling an equal amount of guilt for not doing more or doing better, yet we’re keeping positive for Novia's sake."

My eyes widen as I stare at the vampire who's looking at the wall in front of him. How selfish can I be? It didn't even occur to me that the others would be feeling guilty. It didn't even cross my mind because Novia was in my care when she was taken.

"As I said, you're too hard on yourself. You did your best, and that's all anyone could have asked for. We can't tell the future, so we weren't to know. I know Novia won't hold any blame towards us, especially you, so you shouldn't hold blame towards yourself." He looks over at me with a reassuring smile, though it doesn't reach his eyes.

With a small nod, he stands from the bed, claps me on the shoulder, and turns to leave, allowing me to sit alone and think over all he's told me. Just before he leaves, he says, "We're going to get that littlefaeback. One way or another, she'll be coming home very soon. I truly hope you can forgive yourself before then. She needs us more than ever."

And then he disappears down the stairs, leaving me sitting in the lifeless room with only my thoughts to plague me. It takes some time, but I finally start understanding what the vampire is saying. Though I still harbour guilt over her capture, I couldn't have prevented what happened. It was an impossible task. But the vampire is right about another thing.

She's coming home very soon.

And then I'm going to chain that woman to the fucking bed, so she never leaves again, by her own accord or not.

Chapter 32

Novia

Ugh. How did I forget how strong my own dust was?

My head is cloudy when I come to, my eyes blurry when I finally manage to peel my lids open. I blink rapidly, trying to gather my wits and work out where the hell I am. I know I'm in the facility, but where? This isn't where I was kept before.

I slowly pull myself up off the floor, sitting up and leaning my back against the wall behind me. This is certainly different than my last prison. Instead of being placed in a cage like I'd expected, I've found myself in a room that looks like a prison cell. The walls are cement, a dark grey, while the floor is only a shade darker. There isn't much light to be had, only a dim lap just outside of the iron bars that are keeping me within the confines of my new cell. Shadows dance in the farthest corner from me, so dark that I can't see anything past where the light fades.

All I can think is that I'm grateful I haven't been stuffed into another cramped cage like before. Grateful. How fucking ridiculous. I'm grateful for a bigger cage, one where I can stretch my legs and not suffer with a strained back from having to crouch constantly.

I shake my head at myself, a little too vigorously when my sight swims dizzily, blurring everything before it slowly comes back into view. I look down briefly, noting I'm in the same clothes I was brought in wearing. That's another abnormality as far as this place goes. For five years of my capture, I was left entirely nude. Not even a scrap of cloth to cover an ounce of my body. I remember all too well the feeling of those metal bars of my cage digging into my flesh, scraping along my skin any time I'd try to move to gain a fraction of the comfort I so much longed for. They’d stripped me of my dignity the moment I arrived five years ago.

But not now.

My eyes narrow in confusion. This is too different to last time, but why? What the hell is going on?

Movement in the corner has my eyes snapping to the darkened space, the sound of material scraping along the harsh concrete floor loud in the otherwise silent cell. I still can't see anything past the shadows, but I know I heard something.

Before I can think to move closer to search the corner, sound outside of the bars has my attention snapping in that direction. The sound of footsteps clacking on the floor, three sets from what I can decipher. One a set of high heels, clip clopping on the floor with precise placements. The other is a set of heavy thudding, loudly clambering over the floor, while the third is a softer stepping, assured but light on their feet.

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