Succubus Dreams Page 0,63
up from my chair and stalked off to the bathroom. Angry tears were welling up in my eyes, and I refused to let them show in front of my friends. Leaning my forehead against the mirror, I tried to do all the standard tricks for calming down. Deep breathing. Counting to ten. None of it worked.
I didn't get it. I just didn't get it. And apparently, Seth didn't either. Why couldn't he understand? Getting shot - in my head, in my heart, whatever - would fucking hurt. The pain would be excruciating. But in a day or so, I'd recover. I'd go on.
But Seth wouldn't. Why did he not see how serious this was? Death was forever. Squeezing my eyes shut, I tried to block out the image of Seth dead. Cold. Still. No more spark in those brown eyes. No more warm hand to hold mine. A sob built up in me, and I forced it away.
After more deep breathing, I finally felt like I could return to the others. But as I stepped out of the bathroom and started to round the corner back to the kitchen, I heard more shouting. Hugh.
"It was brave, okay? Noble. Gallant. Worthy of a gold star. But she's right. It was stupid. It was so fucking stupid, and you're even more fucking stupid for not realizing it."
"I get it," said Seth. I could hear the weariness and exasperation in his voice. "I could have died. I know, okay? But I wasn't thinking about the larger workings of the universe. I was thinking about her."
"No," said Hugh. "You weren't. I am so goddamned tired of hearing everyone talk about how hard it is to be you. They all go on and on about how amazing it is that you can handle this relationship with her. But, Christ. Really, what's hard about it? You have this beautiful, brilliant girlfriend who doesn't fucking age. She loves you. I know you can't have sex, and everyone acts like that's the end of the world, but come on. She's given you the green light to go get it somewhere else. I don't really see you suffering that much."
"What's your point?" asked Seth.
"My point is that she's the one who suffers. She knows your life is a ticking time bomb. What have you got, another fifty years maybe? And that's if disease or an accident doesn't take you first. Fifty years, and you're gone. She has to live with that every day, knowing that in one breath, your life could be snuffed out like that." I heard Hugh's fingers snap. "Not hurt. Not injured. Gone. She is going to watch you age, watch you gray and wither away, and when you do finally die, it's going to destroy her."
There was a moment's silence, then I heard Seth say uncertainly, "Fifty years isn't anything compared to the scope of her life. She'll get over me. As everyone keeps reminding me, she's immortal."
"All that means is that she has more time to mourn. If you had any fucking regard for her, you would have ended this stupid romance a long time ago. You would have never gotten involved. She was uncertain at first, but now she's in. She isn't going to give you up. You could turn into the world's biggest asshole, and she still wouldn't do it - not with all these romantic ideals she has now. She loves too easily - and gets hurt too easily."
I finally forced myself to move in the ensuing silence. Everyone looked away from me, except Niphon. He was obviously enjoying all of this. I sat back down, and the card game commenced. None of us were really into it, though. The atmosphere was stiff, the conversation forced and halting. It was the proverbial elephant in the room situation. When Peter awkwardly said he was getting tired, the rest of us practically flew out of our seats to leave.
As I was putting on my coat, Carter strolled over to me.
"Seth makes his own choices, as is his right," Carter said softly. The angel was regarding me in that way that always sent chills down my spine. Someone wearing such an ugly baseball cap really shouldn't have that kind of ability. Honestly, how did his hats always get so dirty? "You can rage all you want, but in the end, mortals live their lives the way they decide to. It's not our place to interfere with that."
"Of course it is," I said. "It's what