Page 36 of Shadow & Stars
Voices rose around me, calling my name, shouting things. Tears blurred my vision, a ball of vicious agony planting itself in my chest.
“I killed him. All I do is kill…”
Born to kill, an angel of death. How many notches were on my murderous bedpost now? Too many, my soul drowning in blood.
I’d killed my hopes, ended any possible future with the beautiful demon on the ground. I took his cold hand, his warmth gone. Couldn’t bear to look at his ruined head, focusing on the smoothness of his fingers, remembering their touch.
“Xavier…” I put his hand on my face. A block of ice. Not how it should be.
He’s gone.
My Xavier is gone.
“Xavier…” His name came out as a weak rasp, my eyes hot. Grief shattered my dreams into a million pieces, an old friend come to kick the rest of me into the abyss.
“Roman…” Darcy spoke beside me. “We have to get out of here.”
I laid my head on my demon lover’s unmoving chest, pressing my ear close, waiting for the twin heartbeats to tell me everything was okay. No need for these tears or this crippling sorrow. I didn’t really fuck up. It was just my imagination getting the better of me. Time to snap out of it and get back to planning some arse-kicking. Get myself a weapon the safe way, remember how dangerous I was.
Give me the strength to get up and fight…
No. I didn’t… No! I didn’t mean to think that. It was just a turn of phrase, not a wish. I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean it. I didn’t fucking mean it!
Darcy died again as a surge of power filled my body. He landed across Xavier, bleeding from every orifice.
This isn’t happening. This isn’t happening.
“Xavier? Darcy?” Silent tears rolled down my cheeks. Despite the influx of new energy, I didn’t have the strength to sob, to move, to do anything other than gaze upon a nightmare of my own creation.
“What have you done?” Butterfly said. I noticed his wet, sandy robes close to me. “What have you done?”
His words slammed fists on every single one of my anger buttons. Slowly, I lifted my head to find his face. He stared down at the bodies of my best friend and my demon boyfriend. Purple hair doing that stupid billowing thing when it should be wet and matted, everything about his face dragging my patience across a cheese grater.
“Fuck you.” I wiped at my tears. “You did this. You fucking did this.”
His eyes met mine but silence was his response.
The other demons were inching closer. I didn’t care. All my attention was for this fluttering fucker and his audacity in asking me that question.
White hot anger replaced the cold iron. “This is because of you.” My nose was running, eyes continuing to leak. “You don’t get to say anything. You don’t get to do anything.”
Man, I couldn’t endure this grief attacking me from all sides. Each strand of it came with a killing blow. Too much, wrecking my mind, body, and soul, doing anything it could to obliterate me as it raged in an endless storm.
Everyone I’d ever loved was gone. Two of them I’d murdered because I couldn’t be strong enough to keep my mind in check.
Killer.
Killer.
Killer.
How dare I think I could start a new life? Who the fuck did I think I was to hope for happiness? Killers like me were empty shells with one purpose in life. We existed outside of love and peace and hope.
I am nothing.
I am death.
I am done.
