him.”
“I’m sorry. It takes a lot of power to manifest,” Laz said from somewhere behind her. “He’s burned himself out, and there’s nothing I can do. He isn’t my creation.”
“No. No. Save him. Do something.” She didn’t turn to look at Laz. She was too fixated on the shadow in front of her. She held him tightly, as if by that means alone she could keep him from disappearing. “Please…not him.” She kissed the shadow’s forehead, and he hugged her, resting his forehead against hers. His eyes shut, and his smile was sad but content. She was crying now in earnest. “I can’t lose him. I can’t. I love him.”
“Don’t cry…I wasn’t ever real, remember? I won’t be far. I’ll always be here with you. But I did a good thing. Just this once…I did a good thing.”
She felt him begin to slip through her fingers. Her throat tightened, and she sobbed. “No—Laz—please—”
“Nothing I can do…I’m sorry. He knew. He wanted this.”
“I—” She turned her attention back to Simon’s shadow. “I love you. I love you so much, I—” Her voice choked as she wept. “I will always love you. And I will always remember you.”
“That means I did exist. That makes me happy.” He traced a shadowy claw over her cheek. “So beautiful…”
Cora watched in horror as…Simon’s shadow drifted away. Faded and slipped from her fingers like smoke from a candle. No matter how hard she tried to grab for him and pull him closer to her, it did no good.
“Please—I—”
But it was too late.
With a whisper of wind, he was gone.
Gone.
She put her head in her hands…and wailed.
7
“Honey, time to wake up.”
Turk mumbled and threw a large arm over his eyes. “Mmh.”
Amanda nudged him. “I made breakfast. Your favorite.”
Groggy, he smiled. He knew what she was making by the smell alone. Crepes. He adored them. Amanda had mastered them over the years, specifically because he liked them so much. He grunted and rolled onto his side. She was already in the kitchenette again, humming to herself.
He watched her for a long moment. He loved everything about her. He loved the way the sunlight shone on her blonde hair. The way she always seemed to be smiling. The way she saw the best in him, even now.
But no matter how much he loved her, he couldn’t put anyone ahead of the world. Not even the Aerialist. He would rather die himself a hundred thousand times than see her harmed. He would gladly burn in the pits of hell until the universe ceased to exist if it meant she was safe. But no one—not even Amanda—was worth the damage the creature would continue to cause to the human race. Especially if it was set free from the pseudo-prison he had managed to create along the lake in New Hampshire.
He would hold her as their own world ended. He would pray to the prophet that she would be granted a place in the afterlife. But even if they ceased to exist, it would be a quiet, painless end to their lives. It was more than most received.
It was a fleeting hope that he could push her up to the stars as he fell below. And he would do it without hesitation.
He stayed there, comfortably draped on the pillows, smiling at her.
She glanced at him, and then a moment later shot him a curious look. “What’s with that sappy face?”
“Just enjoying the view.”
She glanced down at herself, and her baggy pajamas, and shot him another incredulous expression.
“Pah. You know what I mean.” He pushed up from the bed with a grunt and scratched his blunt fingernails across his chest. She didn’t mind the hair that grew there—in fact, she claimed to enjoy it. Even if he had caught her braiding it into rows while he was asleep that one time. He walked up behind her and kissed the top of her head. “You’re adorable, and I was just reflecting on how much I love you.”
“Aw, what has you feeling all dorky this morning?” She tilted her head up to kiss him. “Not that I’m complaining.”
“Guilt over what I’ve done to Cora and Simon. I feel terrible for what I’ve done to her.”
“You don’t have a choice.” Amanda sighed. “But better you feel terrible than not. It means there’s hope for you yet.”
He chuckled. “I suppose.”
“Simon would have thrown you in that place and never looked back. He would have whistled as he did it. That you feel remorse makes you the better