Valentine's Arrow

17: Diamond Soul

Finally, she found what she was looking for – a length of sturdy rope. She raced back upstairs and then, with immense difficulty, managed to pin down one of his arms and bind it tightly to the bedpost. She did the same for the other arm. He did not calm down the slightest bit, but at least he could no longer hurt himself.

It took him almost half an hour to stop, and by that time, his wrists, where she had bound the rope, were bright red. His skin was torn open in various places, little trickles of blood running down his body. The bed sheets were wet with his blood. His eyes focused on Rebecca, who had been hovering anxiously by his bedside. "Rebecca?"

"Yeah, I'm here." She carefully undid the ropes around his wrists. "Are you... okay?"

Sebastian looked down at himself – at his sweat-stained t-shirt, his bloody arms, and then back at her. She expected him to ask what had happened, but instead, he wrapped his arms around her. His body was shaking with tears.

"It's okay," she said, feeling tears pricking the backs of her eyelids. "I'm here. I'll never let you go."

"I never wanted you to see this side of me," he said quietly, his voice painfully hoarse. "This terrible, ugly side."

"It's because of the demon blood, isn't it?" She released him and he laid back on the pillows.

He nodded. "I have good days and bad ones. I have terrible days as well. Then there's these types of days." He smiled weakly. "Thank you for not looking at me like everyone else does."

"How do they look at you?"

"Like I'm a monster."

By the time Rebecca had given him enough iratzes to let him heal, it was almost 4 am. She had just finished changing the bed sheets when Sebastian came into the bedroom, having changed into a fresh t-shirt and pants.

"Thank you for looking after me," he said quietly. "Most mornings... Well, I just wake up on the bathroom floor with half my skin torn away." He smiled wryly.

"That's not funny," Rebecca said sharply, her voice uneven.

"That's why I'm not laughing." He leaned over and kissed her, but this time, it was slow and simple and sweet, and all it said was, I love you. Breaking apart, he settled down on the bed beside her. "Still, it's better here than anywhere else. Back in Idris, Valentine would just lock me in the basement whenever it happened."

"What?" she croaked, feeling sick.

"And if it wasn't the fits, it was the whipping."

Rebecca sat up straight. "Valentine whipped you?"

He tapped his shoulder. "On my back. Almost every day."

"Show me."

"I don't think-"

"Show me."

Mutely Sebastian lifted his shirt over his head.

Rebecca had to swallow back a gasp. His bare back was striped with ragged scars, one after the other, too even to be random accident. "Why?" she whispered.

"They're a reminder," Sebastian replied, "of the perils of obedience."

She lifted her hand and gently traced one of his scars. She could feel him flinch beneath her touch. "Don't you mean 'disobedience'?"

"I mean what I said."

"Do they hurt?"

"All the time."

Rebecca swallowed and looked up at him – or rather, at the back of his head. Then she leaned forward and lightly brushed her lips against his bare shoulder. "Does that make it feel better?"

Sebastian pulled down his shirt and whipped around. "No. But this does." He pulled her into his arms and kissed her passionately, before resting his forehead against hers. "Falling in love with you wasn't a part of my plan, but turns out... it was the most essential part."

MAGNUS

Magnus wasn't on Blackfriars Bridge, as he was supposed to be. He was actually on Waterloo Bridge, staring across the Thames at Blackfriars Bridge. It appeared to be mostly empty, save for the early morning commuters that walked quickly, their heads bowed against the light drizzle. Cars whizzed past, and it was weird to be able to see them go by without actually hearing them. The wind cut through his thin white dress shirt, but he hardly noticed it. And then he spotted her.

She was standing on the pavement that skirted the railing, gazing down at the river below. Her hair whipped around her face. She looked like she was alone.

Magnus decided to take the chance and see her. As a warlock that had lived through several hundred years, there wasn't much he couldn't survive. Not to mention, he was quite curious about why she had asked him to meet her. He snapped his fingers and the Farsighted spell dissipated.

At Blackfriar's Bridge, she was standing with her head tilted up, letting the weak morning sunlight wash across her face. The traffic on the bridge had increased slightly, as had the number of pedestrians.

"I'll admit," Magnus said, walking up to her, "I was surprised to get your message. Even more surprised when you asked me not to tell Alec."

Rebecca smiled, but she did not turn around to face him. "Thank you for not telling him."

"How do you know I didn't tell him?"

"If you had, he'd be here too."

Magnus inclined his head. "A fair enough assumption. But why did you call me here?"

At that, Rebecca did look at him, and he saw it immediately - her irises were now as black as night. Magnus was slightly unsettled, but he tried not to show it. "Rebecca... what happened to you?"

She smiled sadly. "I'll tell you everything, Magnus. You're the only one I can trust right now. But first, can you do me a favor?"

"Of course."

"Don't tell Alec that I am alive. Don't tell anybody. Pretend we never met."

Magnus took a deep breath. "Okay."