Destined (Desolation #3) (34 page)

When I stepped into my room and closed the door behind me, I had to stop. To take in the scene. I’d been gone a long time. It was August and I’d been imprisoned sometime toward the middle of November, I thought. But even though I’d been gone so long, my room was exactly the same. My bed was made—Lucy’s downy white comforter as inviting as always. 

On my dresser were the pictures Lucy had displayed before I took over her room. There was a picture of me and Lucy, and a picture of me, Lucy and James. I picked each one up, remembering. When I set them down, I surveyed the room and saw a new photograph on the nightstand.

Framed with silver angel wings, the image inside it made my stomach flip. It was a picture of Michael and me. Our heads were together, foreheads and noses touching. Our eyes closed. Our arms around each other.

I sat on the bed, the photo in my hand. I had never seen a picture of Michael. Never seen one of the both of us. It reminded me how richly blessed I was. I closed my eyes and gave thanks, to the universe, to Odin, to Freyja—to anyone who might be listening. 

Thank you,
I thought.
Thank you for friends who love me no matter what. For Aaron, Lucy, James and Miri.

Thank you for letting me have this. This time with Michael. This love. 

Thank you for giving me this chance.

Thank you for this life.

I kissed the picture and when I did I noticed my reflection in the glass—and I was smiling. I was the girl born of sorrow who now lived in happiness.

Coming out of my room, finding Michael sitting on the big armchair Lucy loved, with a book in his hands, I felt glorious.

I wore my favorite black T-shirt and favorite dark wash jeans. Wore my favorite black Chucks with silver sharpie designs all over them. I was still pale, but I no longer looked like death. I looked like me—like a regular girl with long, wavy black hair. Michael glanced up when he heard me come in and the expression on his face made me stop, suddenly self-conscious. 

“What?” I finally asked after a moment of embarrassment.

For two heartbeats Michael just looked. Then he stood, put the book on the table and walked toward me. He put his hands on my neck, and scooped my hair up into his hands. “You’re beautiful.” He stared intensely into my eyes. And then he kissed me. He kissed me so long, so deeply that I stretched onto my tip-toes and leaned into him. 

James’ phone buzzed in my back pocket. “He’s summoning us again,” I said, my lips against Michael’s.

“Then I guess we’d better go.”

About three more phone calls later, Michael and I strode into James’ room, hand-in-hand, matching smiles, matching blushes on our faces.

“About bloody time!” James said from a wheelchair beside the bed.

“Ugh, thank you!” Miri jumped off the bed and grabbed their things. “He’s driving me nuts.” She pushed a button on a remote next to the bed. A moment later a male nurse stepped into the room.

“Finally ready to get sprung, huh?” 

“I’ve been ready—it’s little Miss Highness who took her own sweet time getting here.”

The nurse smiled at me and rolled his eyes. “Well, you’re on your way now. That’s something, right? Got your paperwork?”

James waved it in his face and the nurse laughed. Then he pushed James out of the room, and when he passed me, James glowered. 

A flicker of doubt swept across my mind. A whisper of the fear that had been the hallmark of my time on Earth. 

Miri fell in step beside me and squeezed her arm around my waist. “He’s just giving you a hard time,” she said. 

But it wasn’t until we’d pulled the car up to the curb and the nurse had helped James into the backseat that I caught a glimpse of James’ face again and saw the joy that shone there. He winked when he caught me staring. Sunlight burst in my chest and burned away all the old yucky feelings. Things had changed. Really changed. And they had changed for good. 

It might take a while to get used to, but I was willing to keep trying, for forever if I had to, if it meant being with these people, meant having these friends. This love.

We ordered pizza and lounged around the apartment while James and Miri regaled us with everything that had happened over the past eight and a half months.

About how after the Attack of the Genies as they called it, Miri’s mom got to have a funeral that was attended by a million people and that Miri hardly remembered at all. Her dad was still governor and she only saw him at social functions where he paraded her out like a prized pony.

She didn’t have any bitterness in her voice when she said it, but I knew how she felt. Knew what it felt like to be on display, to be used. But Miri was a better person than me. She always had been.

“It’s how it is with Dad,” she said. “I’ve just decided to be happy with what I’ve got, with him even remembering I’m alive. It’s what he can give me right now, so I’m okay with it. Besides,” she elbowed James gently and leaned into him, “I’ve got James to pay attention to me as much as I want.”

“I’ll always pay attention to you, bright eyes.” James kissed her and I thought I’d never seen him happier. And man, he deserved it. They both did.

“Oh! Remember that Shakespeare assignment Mrs. Park gave us?” Miri jumped up and smiled down on me.

“Uh, I guess. Kinda.” Truth was it only barely tickled my memory, but I didn’t want to admit I hardly remembered it at all.

“So you know how I said we should do an Ophelia scene from Hamlet? Well, I remembered what you told me about her—about the real Ophelia.” James flinched at the mention of her name and Miri paused, a question lighting her eyes. I nodded, not sure where she was going.

“Well, I did this totally dark, perverted version of Ophelia’s singing scene. Mrs. Park said she was surprised I had it in me and that it was the most disturbing interpretation of Ophelia she’d ever seen.” She twirled around then dropped back onto the couch. “I got an A+.”

I laughed, marveling at how she could be so normal, so human after everything she knew. Everything she’d seen. How she’d made friends with Taige, who after the Attack of the Genies, was so upset over all she’d witnessed that she’d gone to Cornelius for Confession.

“He asked us later what we thought of her joining The Hallowed, so he invited her. It’s been good, I think,” James said. “Miri kinda took her under her wing and, well. You saw her, right? She’s come a long way.” I closed my eyes and leaned against Michael, who sat behind me on the floor, his back against the TV cabinet. I knew exactly the power Miri’s care had.
That’s another thank you,
I thought. That Miri could help Taige. And that Taige would let her.

A heavy silence fell between us then and I knew we were all thinking the same thoughts. What would happen now? How could we go on without Cornelius? Without Longinus? 

Michael cleared his throat. “So what are you guys going to do now?” 

James and Miri gazed at each other for a moment before facing us. James focused on me. “I’m so happy you’re home, Des. I can’t tell you what it means to see you like this—you know, normal.” His eyes flicked above me, to Michael. “Happy.” 

“We’re all happy,” Miri said quietly. I knew that look in her eyes. I knew she was going to say goodbye. That they both were.

“We still have a lease on our flat in Paris,” James said. “I’ll have to do a helluva lot of butt-kissing, but hopefully I haven’t lost my spot at Cordon Blue and Miri’s been accepted at École des Beaux-Arts and—” Miri turned to James and he paused, reading something in her eyes. This time they both presented us with the same expression. Determination. Hope. Regret. 

“You need to go,” I said. Hoping to spare them the trouble of saying the words.

Miri nodded and tears gathered in her eyes. James looked down at their hands clasped together in his lap. “We’ll stay, princess. If you need us to—we’ll stay.” But I’d already seen the future in their faces. Already recognized the hope in his voice.

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “Go. It’s good for you to go.”

“What about you?” Tears made Miri’s voice rough and croaky.

I felt Michael squeeze me, felt his strength behind me. Michael was with me. Wherever I went. Whatever we did. We’d do it together.

Forever.

“I don’t know. But,” I added, a smile spreading across my face, “we’ll be okay.”

“The Hallowed has an empty watchtower,” Michael said. “The new recruits will need training—and this time I think they ought to be taught to fight as well.”

“What’s a watchtower?” Miri asked, a little too eagerly. Anxious to find a happy ending for me, I figured.

“It’s what we call each pocket of our brotherhood, of The Hallowed. Taige is here—and there are others. And I am here.”

His arms tightened around me again. 

“So am I,” I said.
I am here.
Exactly where I wanted to be.

On Sunday, Miri snuck into my room early. She didn’t knock, just crept inside and climbed onto the bed. I was already awake, watching the sunlight peeking through the blinds, painting lovely patterns across the carpet. I’d been considering getting up and going onto the balcony, of trying yoga again like I used to do. Before. But Michael slept on the couch and I didn’t want to wake him.

“Hey,” she said. “The boys are still sleeping.” I laughed, and rolled onto my back, stretching and enjoying the feeling of life. I’d never known I could be so comfortable. 

“Come on,” she said, rolling off the bed and pulling the covers off of me. 

“Where?” 

“Just come on.” She pulled on my wrist until I slid out of bed and followed her into the bathroom. She stood me in front of the mirror and examined me critically from over my shoulder. “Okay,” she announced. “Have a shower.”

“Okay,” I said as she backed out of the room. She gave me a pointed look that took any argument right out of me.  

“And shave!”

Shave. Got it.

Twenty minutes later, I sat on the toilet seat, a towel wrapped around me while Miri ordered me around, “Look this way. Now up.” She proceeded to fuss over me; she made up my face—which was good because I didn’t think I remembered the few things Lucy had taught me—and tsked over my hair as she dried it. I didn’t bother to tell her that with my new abilities I could probably take care of all of this with nothing more than a thought. I didn’t want her to leave. To stop showering me with her love.

“Done.” She stepped back and considered me, like I was a work of art or something.

“It’s about time,” I said, standing and turning toward the mirror.

“No!” She practically shoved me out of the way so I couldn’t see my reflection. She forced me to side step out of the bathroom. “Here, put this on.” She held up a white sundress she’d laid out on the bed. “Come on, the boys are up.”

“What’s the hurry?” I searched my dresser for under things, trying to hide the blush I felt creeping up my cheeks. Miri leaned in and snatched up a pair of panties with tiny blue flowers on them and a matching bra.

“Wear these.”

“You’re gonna dictate what kind of underwear I put on?” 

“Trust me.” 

She put a mock-serious expression on her face until I said, “Fine,” and slipped on the blue-flowered undies.