Page 57 of The Deathless One
She closed her eyes as if in pain, and then whispered, “I suppose it’s best if you just look.”
He wasn’t sure how to take that. Looking into her mind the last time had been rather… traumatic for her. She had lost her sight, something he should have at least warned her about. And even then, it had been difficult for her to watch the death of her mother. He wasn’t sure why he should make her relive this memory as well.
But why did he care? Elric hadn’t thought about another person’s feelings in such a long time. It shouldn’t matter what she had to see.
Swallowing hard, he tried to slip back into that version of himself who cared less about mortal problems, and stepped closer to her. “I will have to—”
“I know,” she interrupted. “My eyesight.”
“Just for a few moments.”
He raised his hand and slowly shifted a small lock of her hair behind her ear. The slick strands glided through his fingers, as fine as a spiderweb. The small seashell of her ear captivated him as his hand slid behind it.
Gods, she was so fragile. He could snap her in a moment, and that terrified him as much as it intrigued him.
“I’ll make it painless,” he rasped. “And then we’ll figure out what to do from here.”
“I trust you.”
The whispered words made him freeze. He stared down at those big black eyes, looking up at him with the truth in that gaze. She trusted him.
The heaviness of that settled on his shoulders. He had wanted this, he knew, but it was also… daunting to live up to her expectations. Squaring his shoulders, he moved his hand to cover her eyes. “I will try to be gentle.”
Then he dove into her mind.
She was thinking about him, he realized. A faint burn of a blush traveled through both of them as he found himself back beside the statue of the Crone. He watched himself with his hands tangled in her hair, their lips only an inch apart as he breathed in her death-lily scent.
“This is not what we’re here for,” he murmured, his voice a low grumble.
“I know.” Was that a whimper?
His hand spasmed on her face, and suddenly he realized how close they were even now. He could feel his power drawing out of her mind, away from her memories and closer to this moment. To the way her body shuddered beside his and how he wanted nothing more than to lay her beneath him. He wanted to worship this witch underneath the painting of his own death.
But she shuddered again, and he felt her memories shifting. He was standing in front of Benji. The boy’s body arched uncomfortably as black magic poured into his mouth. The power beckoned to him. Both he and Jessamine tumbled through the open maw of the body and into the memories of the young man.
The stolen memories were hazy at best, but clear enough for him to realize they were standing in an opulent room. Warm wooden walls, a massive desk at one end, with dark smoke swirling around their legs. Benji sat in a chair in front of the desk, glee turning his eyes to sparkling gemstones.
“So all I got to do is open the gate?”
“That’s it.” A large man stood beside the desk, bent over with his silver hair hiding most of his features. “It’s a simple task, Benji. Can you do it or not?”
“I can do it. Easy enough. And then I get whatever I want from the castle?”
“Within reason. All you’re doing is opening a gate, boy.”
“I’ll take whatever I want from the dead. That’s good enough for me.”
The man looked up, and Elric froze the memory. He felt the darkness of his own power swirling around his legs as he paused in front of the stranger.
This was a strong man. His features were square, almost startlingly so. A square face, a slash for a mouth, bright blue eyes cold as the sea in winter. A man who saw much, this one. He wore a uniform of the deepest blue, gold buttons dotting down either side of his chest.
“Who’s this?” he asked.
Jessamine appeared beside him. He’d forced her to physically appear in her memories, he thought, because her eyes were glassy with tears as she hugged both of her arms around her waist. “I can’t.”
“We’re already in the memory, Jessamine. You might as well tell me who he is.”
She swallowed hard. “Callum Quen. He’s the head of the guard at the castle. He was the person responsible for our safety at all times. I’ve known him my entire life.”
