Page 190 of Fires of the Forsaken
“Addie,” Maddox gave me a sad smile, “you need to heal too.”
“But—”
“The infected aren’t going anywhere. You’ll be able to help them once you’ve gotten some of your strength back. Not before.” He pushed himself away from the wall. “By the way,” he chuckled, “your Púca is making an excellent guard. She hears refugees approaching before our watchers in the tower can see them.”
I cracked a grin at that.
Abby Normal carrying Cheriour and I to safety had convinced some people (not all, unfortunately) that she wasn’t evil. So she’d graduated to a paddock. One with a stunning view of the mountains. And she was happier for it. “She’s a cool kid,” I said.
“She still won’t let any of the stable hands close to the fence, though.”
“Well, I didn’t say she wasn’t a bitch,” I laughed. “I’ll go down a later and…I dunno. Try to teach her manners.”
Maddox nodded and then jerked his head toward Cheriour. “He may wake up soon. Find someone to fetch me or Quinn when he does.”
And, with that, he left.
I stayed perched on the edge of the bed, staring around the dark room. Which was depressing AF and only made my dreary mood worse. But, whatever.Not much would make me happy at this point anyway.
Except a large, extra cheese pizza. With mushrooms. And olives. I’d take a slice; asliverof a slice, even. Just to remember what it tasted like.
This time, when I closed my eyes, trying to recall the warmth of the pizza box in my hands as I walked to my car, I saw the red-headed woman. The Celestial with the electric blue eyes.
…it leaves a residue, one that will damageyoursoul.
Had I lost a part of my soul at Niall? Was that why my memories were messed up? But what did a soul evenfeellike? How did you know when you damaged one?
If you use this power too often, youwillchange.
What did that mean? Would I keep losing memories? Turn into a deranged serial killer? A monster?
Behind me, Cheriour shifted, kicking out at some invisible enemy. I turned, watching as his face pinched with pain, and then dropped my head into my palms.
A million more questions swirled around my brain. Ones only he could answer.
How does an angel fall? What, exactly, will happen to you when you die? Is it like being a zombie? Worse? Who was the blue-eyed angel who saved me (and also freakingkidnappedme)? Is what she said about me true? How did I get these powers?
I sniffled.
Did I kill my parents? Were those memories real?
And, if you knew about this, why didn’t you tell me?
Something brushed against my back. I jumped, wincing when my neck cracked, and turned.
Cheriour’sheavily bandaged hand touched my lower back again. “I’m sorry,” he slurred. His half-open eyes were more alert than I’d seen them in days. “For not telling you.”
“You’re—wait, was I talking?”
A low, pained laugh rumbled out of him. “You’realwaystalking.”
“Sorry.”
His shoulders jerked, almost like a shrug. “I like your voice,” he mumbled. His hand tapped my back again. “And…I should have told…you. But…I didn’t want…to hurt…you. Sometimes it’s better…not knowing…”His slur became more pronounced as his eyes closed.
The back of my throat got that clogged, cottony sensation again. I mean, he wasn’t entirely wrong. I’d’ve gladly lived the rest of my life (however short it would be) without knowing the things I knew now. And I wasn’t angry at him for not telling me. Not really. Well…maybe a smidge. But would I have listened to him if he’d tried to explain upfront? Hell no. I would’ve told him to lay off the shrooms.
“Well,” I cleared my throat, “secret secrets are no fun. Y’know?”
