Infinite Risk (28 page)

I retreated a few steps from the hand that wanted to save me. Now I fought the urge to take it. It was hard as hell to accept that this path might mean the end of me and that I must walk it alone. But he had done enough; I should let him go freely and without tears.

Yet they rose to my eyes anyway. Stubbornly, I blinked them away. “Thanks for everything. Maybe … think about making some friends instead of keeping people as pets. There's no reason you should be so alone.”

“When people are my pets, they need me, not the other way around,” he said in a broken voice. “And when they leave, it doesn't make me wish I could die of it.”

“But you're going, not me.”

“Only because I can't stay for the last act, dearling. I couldn't survive it.” Normally, I'd accuse him of hyperbole, but the stark pain in his expression stopped me.

“I'll miss you.”

It was the sole truth I had to offer. While my feelings for the Harbinger were twisted as two trees grown into one shadow, I knew that beyond any doubt. Knowing he'd no longer sweep in unexpectedly, never wait for me, and that I'd never hear his music, an invisible fist squeezed ferociously at my heart.

“Must you be gracious? It wouldn't hurt if you asked me to stay. I won't, of course. But somehow I want to hear it.”

“I can't,” I said, low. “I'm trying not to be a selfish asshole.”

His lips twitched in a rueful half smile. “Of course not. You've got altruism to spare. Perhaps that's why I couldn't resist you from the start. The devil always loves what he lacks.”

Loves.
My insides quivered over that word, but I ignored it. Some questions were better left unspoken.

“I'll ask for a parting gift, however.”

That surprised him. “Greedy thing. The flat wasn't enough?”

“Will you play me a song? One last time.”

“You appreciate my music that much?”

“It reveals a really lovely soul.” I couldn't meet his gaze, so he closed the distance between us and tipped my chin up.

“Shall we call this your requiem?”

Oh, that was unkind. But I didn't have time to fret over the injury. His violin appeared in his hands, and he sailed into a song so gorgeous that it stole my breath. The music poured over me like liquid fire, cleansing and healing. Yet beneath the passion, a purple thread of loss laced through, breaking my heart a thousand times before he finished. I didn't even realize I was crying until he dusted my tears away with gentle fingers.

“You honor me so. If I might, I'll claim a gift in parting too.”

“I don't have anything.” I sniffled and swiped my hand across my cheeks.

“Untrue. I'd count a kiss from you as a treasure to cherish.”

If he wasn't leaving for good, there was no way I'd agree. But since he'd granted my final request, it seemed stingy to deny his. So I lifted my face and closed my eyes. I expected a chaste peck, but instead, long fingers cupped the back of my head and his mouth took mine, cool and firm, intimate as if he knew exactly what I wanted. I moaned a little, and he deepened the kiss, savoring me until my knees nearly buckled. Then I wasn't just receiving a kiss; I gave it back with everything I had. I wrapped my arms around his neck and fell into him like a river.

“You don't taste of innocence,” he murmured against my lips. “How delicious.”

I had no idea how to respond, so I hid my face in his shoulder.
I can't believe I kissed the Harbinger. I can't believe he's
leaving
me.
Right then I almost begged him not to go. Almost. But I held the words in my mouth like medicine it would kill me to swallow.

Touching his cheek, I said, “Good-bye,” instead.

And then he was gone, my arms empty.

I fell apart.

 

NATURE ABHORS A VACUUM

It was dark by the time I recovered.

Turning on the lights, I noticed something new on the breakfast bar. The Harbinger had left me a gift he hadn't mentioned, a laptop. I traced the rectangular edge, wishing I could tell him how much this meant; it was invaluable to the next stage of my plan. But then, since he'd been part of me, he probably already knew.

Trembling, both from emotional overload and low blood sugar, I fixed some food and ate it without relish. There was no joy in understanding the reason why the flavor had leached from my favorite dishes. Based on what he'd said, it wouldn't be coming back, either. A pain quake shivered through me, a warning of how bad it would get. I switched the laptop on and found it was already set up with the Internet connection ready to go. In a real sense, before he left, the Harbinger gave me the world.

That knowledge settled me enough to carry the computer to the sofa. I brought up an anime forum I'd belonged to back in the day and searched, then sure enough, I found my username, NamiNerd. At this point, I only had forty posts or so, most of them about One Piece, as I was completely into pirates at twelve, and it didn't hurt that Luffy was adorable in a goofy way, exactly what junior high girls enjoyed. Skimming the messages gave me a weird feeling as I remembered my old life. Back then, school was tolerable; it didn't get horrible until high school, but I didn't have any friends, so most of my human contact came from the Internet. As long as people left me alone, it was all right.

It would be awesome if I could issue direct, specific instructions, but if I approached my younger self in a weird way, she'd cut me off. So I had to build a rapport, somehow. The Harbinger had been wrong about one thing; I wasn't
only
staying for Kian. Now that I had him on a better path, I had the chance to teach prior me a few things. Maybe I could steer my own life in a happier direction. While I couldn't erase the badness, I could try to ensure it didn't happen in this world too.

Wedderburn will hate this.

Maybe his entire game plan didn't hinge on Kian and me, but he'd already demonstrated that he was a poor loser. With a wry smile, I registered on the site and created a profile for TimeWitch.
People are always strange on the net,
I figured.
Might as well put it in the username.
I chose NamiNerd's most recent post, just a few days back, and responded to her comments with excited agreement. Then in the General Chat subsection, where people could talk about anything they wanted, I found a post I had forgotten I'd written.
I don't like my new school. People are snotty. I wish I had magic powers to make me stand out.
Traffic was less outside the anime sections, and so it sat with a goose egg for replies.

Time to change that.

Maybe you should ask your parents to switch schools. They won't know you don't like it unless you tell them.

Resisting the urge to haunt the forums, I closed the browser tab. If I replied to too many of her messages, she'd wonder,
Who's this weirdo and why is (s)he suddenly so obsessed with me?
The need for patience sucked when I had no idea how long I had. At base, the Harbinger had just informed me I had two months or so to live. I stumbled to my feet, but fear crimped my chest, making it hard to breathe, and that incited another wave of phantom pain. The intensity left me curled on the floor with tears streaming down my cheeks.

I crawled back to the couch and, with shaking fingers, searched for
chronic pain management
. A few sites offered suggestions of meditation, deep breathing, and exercise. These tips were intended for people with fibromyalgia and the like, not those falling apart at an atomic level, but maybe it would help me cope. Unwilling to sit and feel sorry for myself, I changed into sweats and put on my sneakers.

This building had a small fitness center, and fortunately, one of two treadmills was free, so I set it and climbed on. Running for an hour and not going anywhere seemed like a metaphor for my current existence. In the end, I came off the machine sweaty, and the aches retreated some. A middle-aged man lifted his chin at me as I scrubbed a hand towel over my face.

“That was intense,” he said. “You looked like something was chasing you.”

“Could be.”

He reacted like he wasn't sure if I was funny or crazy, so he cracked a halfhearted laugh, playing along with the joke he didn't entirely get. I was in no mood to make small talk, so I headed to my apartment. It had only been a few hours, but I kept wanting to check the window. Any minute, the birds would land all along the ledge, right? Then the Harbinger would sweep back in and say he couldn't leave. But … he'd also been the first to tell me not to trust him.

God, what's wrong with me? Before, I couldn't wait to get rid of him.

My phone pinged with a text from Kian, distracting me.
Just watched Fantasia for 10th time. Lil cousins love it. Wassup?

Time to pretend everything's okay.

But I hesitated, unable to thumb-click the lie on the phone the Harbinger had given me. Shit, I'd have nothing here without him, and he'd taken care of me so slowly and subtly that I didn't balk at accepting his gifts. Shit, when he called in his “debt,” I only spent the night with him in the platonic sense. Suddenly, I wanted to cry again.

Existential crisis,
I finally texted back.

What's wrong?
came the immediate reply.

I didn't mean to tell even a version of the truth, but my fingers had a mind of their own.
Broke up with Colin.
Kian's answer took almost ten minutes this time.
Be right over. Address?

He must've been explaining to his aunt or uncle. Since it was after eight on a school night, he probably had to do some fast talking to get permission. Things being better at home meant more supervision apparently. Staring at the screen, I hesitated. While it would be nice to let him comfort me, I probably shouldn't. In Vonna's shoes, I'd be pissed if my boyfriend zoomed over to some girl's house the minute she had an emotional problem.

So I replied,
It's fine. I'll talk to you tomorrow
, and turned off my phone. Still, Kian's concern made me feel better, enough to shower and pull down the Murphy bed. I read on the laptop until I fell asleep. In the morning, I ate out of habit more than from hunger. Probably a bad sign, but I ignored that as I packed a basic lunch.

For some reason, it was unseasonably bright and warm. I liked to think Dwyer was behind it, invoking weather
fu
as a sort of immortal
in your face
to Wedderburn. The walk to my stop went down warm and sweet, like good chai tea. The people already waiting had dragged out their pastels in hopes of enticing the sun to stick around. With the winter king in ascendance, Cross Point had seen some record lows and terrifying blizzards this year. When the bus whined to a stop, I waited for everyone else to board.

The driver had a smile for me as I swiped my card. “Early spring, looks like.”

“Hope so.”

Mornings were always crowded, so I didn't take a seat, though I could've wedged in. At the next stop, a little old lady claimed the spot I hadn't, and that small moment, along with the sunshine, cheered me enough that I was smiling when I got off at school. Kian was already waiting for me, and he seemed pissed.
Oh, right. I shut my cell off.

“You know how worried I was about you?” he demanded.

“Sorry, I wasn't in the mood to chat.”

“It's really hard being your friend. You're so flipping secretive.”

The Harbinger had said something similar, just before he took off.
What are the odds?
But I pretended that didn't cut too close to the bone. “You can't make people feel like socializing, dude. Commercials imply girls always want to be with their BFF and eat a pint of ice cream while weeping copiously, but some of us are more like wild animals.”

“You'd rather lick your wounds alone and then emerge strong enough to attack again?”

I grinned. Kian always did get me, better than I knew myself sometimes. “Basically.”

“Okay. But … when you went radio silent, I thought you might disappear again. This time for good.” His soft tone didn't disguise that real fear.

The part of me that would always love him melted. “Ah. I'll make you a promise. When I'm ready to move on, I'll say good-bye in person. I won't just vanish. Deal?”

Unless my molecules just go whoosh.
In macabre bemusement, I wondered,
Will I go in gold sparks or black smoke?
Or maybe that was reserved for dying immortals, and I'd just wink out of existence like a snuffed candle. Hoping my expression didn't show these thoughts, I managed a smile as Kian studied me.

Then he seemed to relax. “Deal. That makes me feel better. But sometimes the way you talk, it's like I'll never hear from you again. You're going to Miami, right, not Mordor?”

“One does not simply walk into Mordor,” I said, deadpan.

He grinned. “You're not walking to Miami, either.”

“True.”

We headed into school together, as we crossed the parking lot, dodging skateboards, girls showing off chunky heels and short skirts in honor of Dwyer, he said, “Want to talk about it?”

“Not really.” There was no question he was asking about my broken relationship.

“Well, what happened?”

“Basically, he got tired of my nonsense,” I said. “My shitshow of a life and my poor choices. He said he couldn't stick around to watch it end badly.”

Kian stopped, eyes wide. “What an asshole.”

My defense came out on its own. “Nah, just honest. And … he's not wrong. It was always his choice to stay, and now he's chosen to go. I respect his decision, and I don't fault him for it.”

“You must love him a lot,” he said softly.

“Maybe. It's—”