Page 83 of Demon's Bluff

And then I hunched, physically pained as Kisten’s scent washed over me.

For a moment I couldn’t move, my arm wrapped around my middle as a thousand feelings sifted through me. It was almost worse than seeing him in the bar. This was where we had dreamed, and planned, and lived.

“Rachel?”

“I’m okay.” I forced my gaze up as the scent of chili plinked through me. It was her dinner, and it jolted me from my heartache. Grim, I forced the lump from my throat. “You probably shouldn’t bring that in here.”

Elyse held her takeout dish of Skyline chili tighter. “I won’t spill anything.”

“If I can smell it, so will the I.S.,” I said as I forced myself to go into the short hall to the bedroom.Closure. She thinks I needed closure?

“Two days from now?” she questioned, and I ignored her. The place already smelled like the pasta Kisten had made for us—for my birthday. As long as she didn’t drop it, we’d be okay.

What the hell am I doing?I thought again as I passed the tiny bathroom. Kisten’s door was open, and I scuffed to a halt. I’d already done this with Ford, the FIB’s psychologist. Or rather, I would. Course, by the time he’d brought me out here, Kisten had been cremated and the investigations had been shelved.

I forced myself to take one long step to settle in the archway to Kisten’s low-ceilinged bedroom. It was dark, the curtains pulled back to let in only the faintest hint of the coming dawn.

“Don’t turn on the lights,” I whispered, my expression twisting as I saw him propped up against the bed where I remembered him being, his head slumped to his chest, one knee askew, the other leg out straight. His hands were in his lap, and my eyes closed in a strength-gathering blink.Elyse, you are either a very good friend or a sadist.

My breath slipped from me, and I went to him, my legs like water.

I fell to a kneel, reaching to touch his face, to brush his silken hair from his forehead. He was still fucking warm, and my throat tightened. His eyes were closed, and tears spilled from me. They weren’t tears of grief or loss, but at the stupidity of it all. I had loved him, and there were still times when Trent would find me staring into space with a wistful look. I’d always miss him, but my heart had mended, slathered with Trent’s devotion and utter love for me. I had found a way to live past his death.

“I’m so sorry, Kisten,” I whispered, taking his hand in mine and brushing his hair back. Newt was wrong. There was nothing here for the sun to burn. I’d come too late.

And still…I could not bring myself to leave. “I wish I’d known what I know now,” I whispered, unable to let go of his hand. “Been braver. Maybe I could have worked something out with Piscary and saved you. But I am glad you lived to know that Ivy finds love,” I said, thankful thatElyse had the decency to give me some privacy. “She found a woman who makes her whole. And I find not only love but someone who believes in me. We are both okay. You saved us.”

Kisten’s fingers moved in mine, and I jerked.

“Kisten?” Shocked, I gripped his hand and leaned in. Newt had been telling the truth, and I froze, gobsmacked. “Elyse? Elyse, he’s still alive!” I shouted. “I mean, undead!”

Elyse landed in the doorway, that Skyline bowl in hand, her focus darting from Kisten to me. White-faced, she put a hand over her mouth. “Shit, I’m sorry.”

Sorry?I thought, and then got it. Sorry because I was going to have to walk away and let the sun end this.Well, fuck that!I thought, giving him a shake. “Kisten? Kisten!”

“Rachel, stop.” Elyse came forward and set her chili down. “I amsosorry. This was not my intent. I was hoping you’d find closure, not a false hope.”

“But his fingers moved,” I said, holding them to my chest as I studied his face.

Elyse inched forward, awkward and slow. “Bodies move as muscles let go.”

“That wasn’t a relaxing muscle.” I gave his cheek a little slap. His face was ashen, but the undead didn’t really have a pulse but for once every minute or so if they weren’t active.His aura,I thought, quickly unfocusing my attention to make his aura visible. My breath came in shakily. His aura was still there, but it would be for up to three days after he lost his soul.

“Even if he was still undead…Rachel, he can’t survive biting another undead. The virus mutates from host to host, and when they mix, they fight for supremacy, killing both.”

But he wasn’t twice dead yet, and my hope quickened. “Art lasted for three days.” I held his hand, waiting for it to move again.

Elyse was silent, and I fought the urge to slap him again. Kisten’s eyes had silvered that night. I’d seen it. But he was still here. I could not walk away and let the sun end it.

“Rachel, I am so sorry,” Elyse said again, voice plaintive now as she hovered, clearly wanting to leave. “Giving you this false hope was not my intention. You can’t change anything.”

“Yeah?” I let go of his hand and lurched to my feet. “Maybe I was here to save him, huh?” If I didn’t get him underground before the sun rose, it wouldn’t matter if he was still undead. He’d be all-the-way dead.

“You can’t save him,” Elyse insisted, voice high. “You didn’t. Ivy has his ashes.”

But my resolve was growing, and I scanned the room for something to wrap him in.Comforter, check.“Ivy has someone’s ashes. Maybe they aren’t Kisten’s.”

“Rachel Morgan, stop this!” she shouted, going silent when I pulled the comforter off the bed and spread it on the floor beside him. “What the Turn are you doing?”