Page 112 of Villains Never Die

“I’ll kill you.”

“It still won’t save him.”

I willed myself to finish it. A few inches of enchanted metal piercing something vital in her and she would be gone. I would avenge my mother.

But Rook would be gone, just like her, just like Gray. A gaping hole left behind by the love I was foolish enough to let myself feel for them. I never seemed to learn my lesson. I pressed the blade a little harder, and something black and wispy curled out of her neck. My hand ached from clutching the hilt of the dagger. My knuckles strained.

I tossed it on the ground with a clang.

“Fuck you, you evil cunt.” I whipped back around and fell beside Rook, my hands skimming over his body, trying to find a way to bring him back to me. His heart beat faintly under my palms, life escaping faster.

I had life to spare.

I could channel death—decimate my enemies with the power she left behind. But it wasn’t the only thing she gave me. I had lives—plenty of them. I could command life, too. It had to be enough.

I pressed my hands against his chest and tried to find the place inside me opposite the one where I harnessed death. A golden glow, pulsing and waiting to bloom into something new.

Waiting to bring me back.

And that had to be enough to give him.

It chased away the cold as it flowed through me and into him.

Come on, you bastard.

Wake. Up.

Color suffused his face, a rosy, lively tint. His heartbeat became bolder.

“You’re a fighter. Wake up, Carter!”

The flames went out around us, but Death did not retreat.

Whatever wounds Rook had suffered, whatever poison lived in his veins, healed, and his breaths came in strong inhales and easy exhales.

“Maybe you aren’t so lost after all,” Death said.

I turned, but she was gone.

Chapter Forty-Two

“Is that how it works?” Rook asked, much too perky for someone who was dead half an hour ago. He bounced around like a hyperactive child at a carnival. “You just die and wake up feeling fine a little while later? I feel fucking amazing.”

I didn’t answer as I walked beside him toward his apartment. I glanced every so often though, at the blood ruining his shirt, matted in his hair, and stained on my clothes. But my aversion to it couldn’t win against the quiet rage simmering inside of me.

It started after the all-consuming relief that he came back to me. Then I saw the charred circle around us, the reminder left behind that I let her go. She hadn’t fought. She hadn’t escaped. I let her go.

Once Rook could stand, I kissed him like he was the only thing left in the world, and then I realized he was.

Death was gone, vanished like the specter she was, and there was nothing left but him—alive, with me, yet not fully mine.

“Austin, you still with me?” he asked, smiling until he saw my face and lost the expression. “What’s wrong?”

“She was there,” I said. “She wasright there. I missed my chance!”

He stopped and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Thank you, by the way, for saving me. You didn’t have to—”

“But I did have to.” My eyes darted up and clashed with his, and for a moment he looked so confused about why I turned my anger on him. “I saved you because I love you.”