Page 156 of Lourdes & the Mafia
Dyingisnotfun.Zero out of ten, do not recommend. I mean, I know it was just the illusion of dying, but falling from the height that I did and breaking every bone in my body? Yeah, I felt that. And it was not pretty.
Luckily, Lorenzo healed every broken bit of me until the pain diminished, but by the time he healed my injuries, it was too late. Whatever magic possessing the bracelet I slipped on sensed how near I was to death and latched on like a fucking parasite. It did its job, giving me the illusion of death. An illusion so well woven that it tricked even the angel of death himself.
And during all that time, I could hear, but I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t move. It was like being trapped inside a block of ice, the voices on the outside muffled to a dull pulse that beat through my chest as if they were my own heartbeat. I could hear and feel their sadness, and it didn’t matter how aware I was of it or how much I tried to open my mouth to tell them I was alright. It didn’t work.
They really thought I was dead.
And inside the empty space of death, my heart broke even after it had already stopped beating.
I could hear Kane and Lorenzo’s sobs, feel the dark magic of Ramiel pulsing through the air like it meant to lash out and seek retribution. If I had been breathing, I would’ve held my breath and waited to see what he would have done.
It was terrifying, to be able to hear and not move. I feared I’d be stuck in that state, unable to ever wake up again, when I suddenly felt the slip of Lorenzo’s fingers against the wrist that housed the demonic relic. Then he was pulling it off.
Coming back to life was slow. It was like waking up from a particularly deep slumber. First, my heart gave its first pump, pushing blood through my veins. The cold rushed in through my body, bringing with it a prickling sense of awareness. Every nerve came awake and I could feel my eyes twitching, right before I sucked in that first breath of life.
Then Lorenzo was screaming. Calling for Ramiel, for Kane. Then I felt their presence.
My eyes slowly flutter open and their faces are the first things I see.
I swear, all I can do is smile.
“Hi,” I whisper.
Kane’s knees buckle beneath him, and he falls to the ground like a man at the altar ready to pray. It’s ridiculous, the thought, and yet he clasps his hands together like he means to do just that.
“Is this real?” he asks. His voice is a broken whisper, and he stares at me like he expects me to disappear into smoke and mists.
“Dios, I hope so.” Tears stain my own cheeks. Everything I wanted to cry but couldn’t while I was dead. It releases now, like a dam being broken and cascading down my face. “Because if I really died that way, I want a refund.”
“Lourdes?” Ramiel takes a single step forward. His eyes are wide.
I don’t think the angel of death shocks easily, but I’ve managed to bring tears to his eyes and surprise against his every ebony feature.
“Amore…” Lorenzo draws my attention to him. My beautiful Lord of Healing. A kind and gentle soul, his every touch against me a reverence. A sob lodges in my chest at the sight of him. “You’re truly here.”
“I am.” I squeeze his hand, which hasn’t let me go at all. “Can you help me sit up?”
I don’t feel weak, exactly. My mind is spinning, my limbs don’t ache—and I take it that’s on account of Lorenzo’s magic—but they feel electrified. Every single inch of me buzzes, a thousand bees prickling at me just beneath my flesh. The tiniest of jolts spreading into a big, buzzing harmony.
I feel…
I feel revived.
Reborn.
My thighs scrape against the coldness of the stone slab that holds me up as I sit up and slide off the side. My bare feet touch the ground, the stone stabbing into my soles. Any other time, this would have felt uncomfortable, but it isn’t.
It’s an awakening.
Holding onto my elbow, Lorenzo helps me walk down the few steps of the platform. I stop in front of Ramiel first, as he’s the closest. My free hand goes to cradle his cheek, smoothing down the stubbled edge of his jaw and to his lips.
He kisses my fingertips, bringing a smile to my face.
“I’m here,” I tell him. “I’m here.”
I pull away, turning towards Kane. Still on his knees when he shouldn’t be. He is a King of the Underworld. On his knees forme.
“Kane…” My hands reach out to rest on his shoulders and I bend. My wet curls slip against his face, but he doesn’t seem to care. He merely reaches up, taking my face in between his hands.
