Page 53 of Judge of Saints and Sinners

My mind whirled as I stared down at the tiny flame that burned between us, flickering and dancing in the air. It was red, and gold, white and violet, as it twisted and burned in on itself Beautiful and deadly. Fragile and dangerous all in one.

My lips quivered, even as tears lipped down my cheek. It was him.

Our eyes met through the flame of his soul, and then slowly Nephesh released me until I was back on the floor. With shaking hands, he reached out, his hands cupping around the fire and bringing it closer to his body.

In the presence of his hands, it immediately bloomed higher, making me gasp and step back as the heat in my apartment rose quickly.

“Wow,” I couldn’t stop myself from saying.

Nephesh immediately stepped back, his face tense. “Stay back.”

I smiled at him and his fiery soul and then took a purposeful step back up to him, reaching out to cup his hands with my own. They were so warm, nearly burning, but I didn’t back down. Together, we raised his soul up to his chest, where he hesitated just a moment.

“It’s okay,” I said, watching as Nephesh curled his hands closer, slowly clasping his fingers until his soul disappeared into his palms, my fingers still securely wrapped around his.

“It is done,” Nephesh said, but there was something odd in his expression as he jerked his hands free of mine and down to his side. “I should go now. No telling what will happen.”

“Nephesh…it’s going to be fine.”

His amber eyes snapped up. “You don’t know that. And I'm putting you more at risk every moment I’m here.”

“Oh, okay.” I awkwardly stepped back, my bare feet curling against the worn rug. “I guess this is goodbye for now.”

Nephesh’s chest was rapidly rising and falling, his body so stiff that I wasn’t sure he wouldn’t break the moment I hugged him. But I did it anyway, looping my arms around his middle and getting one last touch in before he left.

I could feel his hands on my shoulders, but he didn’t clasp me to him like I thought he might. Instead, he merely brushed his fingers over my shoulders a moment then stepped out of my arms.

“I’ll be back,” he said. Then he nodded jerkily and moved towards the door.

“Don’t you want to take Cerberus?” I asked, gesturing to the dog who was still lying by my feet, staring at his owner.

Nephesh’s mouth tightened, and a wan smile appeared on his lips. “Oh yes, of course. Come here, Cerberus.”

The dog pushed up to a sitting position but didn't get off of my foot or approach his owner. Nephesh blinked, surprised. “Cerberus, come.” This time there was an echoing command in every letter.

The dog stood, walking quickly to his side, his stumpy tail wagging slightly when Nephesh placed a hand on his head.

“Bye ’Rus,” I whispered.

My throat felt tight. In all the strange comments, unusual conversations that the two of us had had. This was the first time he’d lied to me. I could feel it as clearly as if he had admitted it out loud.

Nephesh turned his hand on the knob, and I couldn't stop the rest of the words from falling free.

“I’ll be waiting for you. You’re worth waiting for.”

His sharp amber eyes dropped as I spoke, staring at the floor until he was sure there was nothing else to be said. And then he was gone. He and Cerberus disappeared out of my doorway and down the creaky hallway.

A hot tear slipped free, racing down my cheek before I could brush it away. Then another. That one I let fall, enjoying the simple reminder that although I was all alone again, at least I hadn’t lost my ability to cry.

Or to truly enjoy a person for who they were.

I sniffled hard, my phone finally vibrating with a text from the diner. They needed me. Correction, they needed me to work today. Clearing my throat, I moved out the door, and after staring down the empty hallway, I locked the door.

No one else was going to need back in.

***

There was nothing like coming home to a barren, bone-cold apartment. For some reason, it hasn't felt the same as it had before Nephesh had come into my life. For all that he was the definition of prickly, he had filled this space with conversation and peace and, in many cases, laughter. Even if it was at his expense.