Heaven Sent

Chapter Thirty-Seven

I'm close.

My heightened gaze shifts to the toppled candle rack, the stained rug under my crimson claws, the rain spilling in from the broken window. It's all the same.

It's all the same.

I haven't reached the arch of the stairs before a searing pain develops, spreading.

It is the kind of pain that stops you in your tracks.

The fatal kind.

It tears at my strength, draining my abilities. I am man and vampire within seconds, sprawled on the steps, clutching my flesh, tripping over the shredded clothing, pants hanging from my hips, torn at the ankles, as I bring myself to my feet, letting out a scream—a scream that could wake the dead.

I feel the blood pouring out her as if it were my own. I feel the blade exit her body even if I cannot see her. I have no weapons. I drag myself through the destruction, and to the stairs leading to the roof, already certain of my failure.

I slam open the door, half a man. Half a person.

The rain spills from the sky like tears. Her raven-hair is what I see first, swaying and curling in the stormy wind as she searches for her protector. Her pale hands have changed color. The blood within her pools now at her feet. She has been ravaged by beasts, carrying the wounds with strength that overflows from her... even near death.

My eyes take in the divine being standing just a foot from her, gaze dropping to the weapon in his hand. His features are still, although his eyes show surprise. Surprise he actually did it.

He went that far... to kill her... in cold blood.

I possess no strength. The fight has left me entirely. I feel shelled and hollow, dying with her.

Dying with shame.

The pattering rain washes away her tears, but it cannot wash away the blood.

I feel the ache in her knees before they go out. I reach her in time, breaking her fall. The moment my hands are on her, I feel her tension dissipate, releasing the strength she needed on her own to me, now that I'm here.

"I'm here," I whisper, choking on my words, gazing down at her as she quivers in the cold.

I cannot warm her. There's nothing to do.

Panic seizes me. Seeing her this way, so pale, so quiet, desperation swarms my heart.

I sink my fangs into my wrist, paying no mind to the god silently watching us in this moment, no doubt pleased to wait for the victory of taking her from me.

I'd welcome the blade of death. When Cassandra's mouth turns away from the blood I need to give her from myself, I yearn for death.

"Please, Cassandra," I beg. "Maybe... maybe it will work!"

"It won't."

I press my hand to her stomach, and her blood soaks my fingers, pooling around them.

The delirious pain within her exists in me, tormenting us both in her final moments.

"I cannot accept it!" I cry desperately to her, grabbing her face when her blue eyes begin to flutter backwards, her neck losing the ability to remain upright. The sobs wreck me, fits of panic and agony that I cannot prevent. "I cannot accept it! Tell me what to do! Tell me!"

She cannot speak. The failing of her organs, the brokenness inside make it too difficult.

Blood begins to leak from her mouth, a scarring sight that makes me wail with hopelessness.