Fate's Revenge (Twisted Fate, Book 4)

Chapter Nine

Once I decided to give in to Hailey's suggestion and allow her to assist me in helping Tyler, I put everything I had into accomplishing the goal. I pushed all the doubts and problems that plagued me from my thoughts, concentrating instead on all that I knew to be good.

The rush of energy came faster than before.

It was strong and it was familiar, and even though I would never admit it, the flow of power felt good. But feeling it meant that I had to stop. Even though I agreed that Hailey helping me might be for the best, it was still too much. I couldn't feel good about helping Tyler if it meant that Hailey would be hurt as a result, no matter how annoying she had proven herself to be. I mean, isn't that what happened to Tyler in the first place? He had helped me, used all his energy, and then collapsed because he had nothing left to give when the wards were strengthened.

Despite what Justine might think, I did feel bad about that, and I would avoid it happening if I could.

"Don't," Hailey said, interrupting my thoughts as I began to release Tyler's hand, like she was the one with the ability to read minds. "I'm fine. Keep going. He isn't awake yet."

The problem with trying to ignore her was that I didn't want to. Tyler hadn't opened his eyes yet, not even a twitch. If Hailey could hold out for just a few more minutes. Tyler had to wake up. Or, at the very least, I needed him less fatigued so that he could mind-speak effectively—in sentences comprehensive enough for me to get the answers I'd come so far to get, both literally and figuratively.

"Is it working?"

How could it be working if she kept asking?

My mind strayed from what I needed to focus on every time Hailey spoke, and if she didn't stop chattering, my concentration would break.

"How are you feeling?"

It was an itch I couldn't scratch. Her voice, though not as high-pitched or as annoying as her laugh, vibrated through my nerves, and not even my errant thoughts could keep her out. Focus. I grit my teeth and thought of my happy place—my parents, boxing, even Scruffy.

The only thing that worked was what I wanted to forget—David. Or, even more specifically, love. Once I made the connection, I realized that I could still make it work. I simply discarded Mike's face for the boy I had known. That was who I had loved and who was worthy of receiving it. I wondered if he knew the irony of my feelings, that an angel who saw mortals as lesser beings couldn't be half the angel his mortal form had been whilst human. If I could get David and forget Mike, everything leading up to that point would feel worth it.

Realizing I couldn't turn that love off, and that I didn't want to forget how the time I had spent with David had made me feel, unleashed a wave of heat.

Pure energy burst from me. It was amazing and tingly, the most powerful I had felt since starting to heal the Dark Souls during my first trip to Hell's Fire. When it started to return, I didn't want to let go. To feel this—the love, the warmth, the joy—was better than anything Heaven could offer. I never wanted to stop feeling the way loving my David overwhelmed me. It was like I was giving away my affection and finally feeling it being reciprocated, like knowing you can exhale because you are guaranteed another breath.

It isn't real.

He doesn't love me anymore.

It is over.

It took reciting the truth a few times. Once the reality of my words sunk in, the delusion I'd allowed myself to believe in so I could reach the place I needed to be in order to help Tyler began to fade. Slowly, as the elation of what I had allowed myself to feel disintegrated, I let my grip go and pulled my hands away to rest in my lap.