Page 46 of Killer of the Bells
Paris came up to me, and I flinched. His aura was invasive, and even I wasn’t immune. Apple’s charm did nothing for me. Gareth’s fear aura left me untouched, but Paris was an entirely different matter.
His magic was similar to mine in a way I couldn’t evade, but where mine was full of violence and decay, his was much worse.
Paris was the embodiment of hope and simple joy. Of acceptance and forgiveness—unless you were someone who threw his precious fiancé one single fucking time. Seriously, was he ever going to get over that? Vix hadn’t even gotten hurt.
So, when Paris pulled me into a hug, I was rooted in place. It was like a part of me was dying as his energy washed over me, but it was a part that I would be better off without. The monster inside me settled and slept, and I was left with nothing but one thought.
“He left,” I said, unthinkingly. My arms were limp at my sides. Part of me knew I could throw Paris into next Tuesday if I wanted, but that part was fast asleep, so the hug continued.
Paris hugged me tighter and nodded. “He did. What are you going to do about it?”
“Probably something stupid.”
Paris laughed and said, “Try again.”
“Whatever it will take to let me escape this hug,” I said sourly.
“And what would that be?’
“I don’t know, probably something sickeningly kind and honest.”
“That sounds like something I would do. Not you.” Paris shifted his weight like he was settling in for the long haul. I had to find a way to get free from him before I turned into a nice person who made daisy chains, wore pastels, and made brunch dates with people.
The horror.
“I’m not going to kill him,” I said firmly.
“I think we’ve all already figured that out, but it’s a good place to build from.” Paris patted my hair, and my eyes almost drifted shut. I didn’t want to imagine what would happen to meif I fell asleep on him. Probably wake up wearing a polo shirt and doing a crossword puzzle.
“I hate you,” I stated.
“No, you don’t.”
“I want to hate you.”
“I know. I’m not sorry I took Vix from you, Vale. He’s mine now, and he’s happier that way.”
“I know,” I admitted. I didn’t want Vix anymore anyway. He was proof of something good in a horrible world, and I’d wanted to protect it in my own misguided way. If I’d been in love with him, it had been in an unhealthy, broken way.
Echo was different. I didn’t know how. I only knew he was Echo.
He was imperfect and scarred, but he was also real and unapologetic about who he was. Echo’s soul vibrated with my own in a way I couldn’t quantify.
I wanted him alive, I wanted him with me, and I wanted him happy. I just wanted him.
So, I had to find out how to make it happen.
“I’m going to go learn more about him,” I said.
Paris hummed in approval. “Now that sounds like you.”
“Is that enough to free me from this hug before I start taking artful pictures of my food and posting them on Instagram?”
Paris laughed and released me. “I can’t change who you are, Vale. I can only help your mind be quiet enough to allow you to think clearly.”
“It was horrible, and I hated it,” I griped.
“And if you’d wanted to, you could have put me through a wall and walked away,” Paris reminded me.
