Secrets - [Guardian Trilogy 01] (36 page)

“Not to us, but demons are much more sensitive to it.”

“Huh. What makes him think she isn't dead?”

“He keeps seeing her guardian pop into her apartment.”

“So he still has the apartment under surveillance? That's good.” Dread filled my stomach. They knew. He was playing with me.

“Yeah, I don't think it’s a visual surveillance though. Demons can sense that type of good from far away. I think he’s just canvassing and mentally monitoring.”

“They can do that?”

“They can do a lot of things we can't.” We reached my apartment building.

“I guess that's why they get paid the big bucks,” I mumbled, trying not to sound relieved.

“Yeah, I guess—though I’ve never lost a single human girl in my life. It’ll be fun to watch him work, win or lose. You in?”

“Sure, let me know when she’s back.”

He nodded, started to walk away, then turned back. “Hey, Holden?”

”Yeah?”

”No more jokes like the one on the street. I don't mind them, but if someone else saw you, I’d have to start monitoring you again and that’d be a pain in my ass. I have too many newbies to keep track of as is.”

The corners of my mouth twitched up a bit. I shrugged. “Okay.”

Augustus laughed yet again. “You’ve always been such a cold bastard.” I watched him walk away.

Even thinking about it now made me break into a cold sweat. The conversation could’ve gone very differently. Instead, I gained intelligence into what they were doing and the fact that I wasn't being monitored at all, which freed me up considerably. I didn't know how long that would last though, since I had no intentions of taking myself out of the equation.

My phone rang, pulling me out of my thoughts.

“Hello.”

No one responded, but I could hear something on the other end. I checked to see who was calling and it was her. Relief filled me. Maybe she was back. Maybe she’d forgiven me. I had so much I needed to tell her and warn her about.

“Olivia? Are okay? Are you all right? Are you ... Can you ...” I sighed. Words were once again failing me. “When are you coming home?”

She hung up. I felt both hope and the swift blow of crushing pain. At least she called, but I wished I could’ve heard her voice. What did she want from me? What more could I give? I stalked around my room. Every time I looked at my bed, I saw her lying on it curled into a ball, grieving her friend. In my kitchen, she stood laughing at me. Her presence snooped through my bookshelf and hogged the bathroom. She was everywhere and I loved it. I had ruined everything.

I couldn’t change who I was, and she had to understand that. If anyone could understand, it was Olivia. She could love me before. She could love me again. She had to. I didn’t know what I would do if she didn’t. The frustration was too much. I threw my phone across the room and it broke into pieces. I stormed into the living room and sat on the couch, trying to escape her memory before it drove me to madness. I looked at her photographs I purchased from the show. While she wasn’t in the pictures physically, I could see her unique point of view all through them. If she could see so much in strangers, could she see what was in me? Maybe that was why she wasn’t coming back. Perhaps it wasn’t about Christopher’s death at all. She’d finally seen past my surface and found me empty. So what was I doing this for? I could walk away now, save myself. I contemplated leaving.

Then I pictured Olivia being destroyed by the demon—her life and loved ones being torn apart. Would she give in? Would she still reach her destiny? I lay my head back on the couch and collected my thoughts, trying to dispel the brutal images in my mind.

I felt a familiar tug on my mind, one that I’d severely missed. Olivia was dreaming.

I only got to see her for a moment—and that moment wouldn’t have been enough had it been a lifetime. It was enough, however, to remind me what I was risking my eternity for. Regardless of how she felt, I was going to help her. They couldn’t have her. Even if it killed me, I’d see this through to the end. Olivia would be my last—my only—good deed.

Twenty Five

I paced nervously around my room. The letter sat in my purse, waiting for me. I worried about what it would mean to read it. Juliet’s last words, her last thoughts, her final pain. I couldn’t bear to have that knowledge forever imprinted in my brain—but it had to be done
.
There was the other issue too. Going home. I had a limited amount of time to catch Juliet’s killer and to say goodbye according to Quintus, and home was the only place I could do that. But I wasn't ready to see Holden. If I saw him, I couldn't leave again. The man was an ember in my mind that created a flame with the smallest provocation. Just thinking of him made my heart thump and my blood boil. I couldn’t have any more slips like last night.

I needed control—and Holden needed to let me go. I considered calling him. Letting him know my plans and my wishes, but I doubted that once I was speaking with him I would be able to stop. I also doubted his willingness to let me have my way. I’d just have to avoid him. My mind was happy that the decision was made, and I could stop worrying about it. It was the right choice. My heart, however, thudded stubbornly in my chest. Stupid heart.

I forced my focus back to the letter that was still patiently waiting for me. I made an inner promise to Jules that I’d stop being a coward about all this. This time I should be diving in head first, just like she always did in life. No more waiting and seeing. I plucked the letter from my purse, held it in my hand for a moment, then tore it open.

I was first struck by the sight of her handwriting. It made my heart clench and a too familiar pain sawed along the edge of my heart.

Dear Olivia,

I'm sorry. I know you won’t understand—I
don’t
understand this. I just can’t live with this guilt and anger hanging over me any longer.

I know Christopher's death was my fault. I should’ve let him talk to you. I shouldn't have interfered. And Joe’s leaving was my fault as well. I can’t appreciate what I have, therefore I’ll never have anything. I understand now that my father left because of me. I was too much trouble, always wanting this or that. I even drove my mother to madness just by being born.

Now that you have Holden, it’s only a matter of time before you leave me too, and I can’t bear that. I’d have nothing. You will be happy with a family and friends, and I’d be alone watching other people living lives I can only dream about.

I will not be pitied. I will not be anyone's charity ... I wanted to talk to you about all this, but you seemed to have worked out so much already that I didn't want to burden you. I’m tired of being a burden to everyone around me. I will be a burden no longer.

You have always been stronger than me, even if you didn't know it. Thank you for having been in my life and for being my friend. Thank you for sharing your family with me as if it were my own. I’m sorry I couldn’t do better by you, that I couldn’t be a better friend—that I’ve failed you again.

Please do not hate me for doing this, but it is the only way I can see to fix what I have broken.

Love,

Juliet

My tears dropped on the page and mixed with the water spots left by Juliet's tears.
It was all my fault. I was selfish. I didn’t try hard enough to talk to her. Everything had been about me. Had always been about me. I failed to see the pain my best friend was in. What kind of friend does that? I was too concerned about men, and I lost my sister. I knew she was hurting—and if I was being honest, I saw that she was upset about Christopher. I saw it, but I dismissed it because it was easier. Just like it was easier to pretend that I hadn’t abandoned him as well.

How had I let Holden and Quintus talk me out of my grief? Christopher died because of his involvement with me. Without me, Holden would never have noticed him and wouldn’t have killed him. I wanted to scream that it wasn't her fault, but she wouldn't hear me. No, she wasn't the one who ended up alone. It was me. I was alone. Everyone left me.

I crawled into bed, spiraling faster than I ever imagined possible. I was back to the day it happened, only now I was truly alone. I didn't have Holden to boost me up—which was probably a good thing. He was better off without me. I was poison to everything I touched.

My mental assault on myself continued as I floated in and out of consciousness. Finally the sun was setting, and I still hadn’t moved from the fetal position I’d taken earlier. I had been so, so close to moving on. What did it all matter? I was dying in less than two months anyway. And no one ever promised me a happy life, I’d just always assumed I’d get one. How arrogant!

The deeper I fell, the deeper I understood Juliet's letter. Again she was someone I’d had the opportunity to save but failed. I failed them all. I closed my eyes and tried to will away my thoughts. I longed for a few moments of peace from my own attack. I needed to collect my thoughts and try to make sense of things. I knew there was something I was missing, but the sadness was over powering. It had a life of its own.

I opened my eyes and couldn't figure out where I was or what I was doing. I was dressed in a black formal dress, standing in front of an audience in a church. I looked around at the familiar and unfamiliar faces, unsure of what to do, when I heard a familiar song being played on the organ. I looked to the doors and there was Juliet walking down the aisle in a white gown, completely breath-taking. I looked across from me where men stood in tuxedos. The only one I recognized was the reporter from my show, but I couldn't remember his name. He stood watching Jules’ approach with a ridiculous smile on his face. They both looked so happy it was infectious.

This is how it should have been, I thought to myself. When they turned towards the altar, I glanced back at the door of the church and saw Holden slip in. He took a seat in the very back, quietly so as not to be noticed. His eyes never faltered from mine, but he wasn’t smiling like everyone else. He looked concerned. I watched him, but was distracted by the happiness surrounding me, lifting my soul. Maybe everything else was a dream—a nightmare—and
this
was reality.

The service was short and suddenly I was in a ballroom, Juliet’s crowded reception in full swing. Jules was glowing and looking perfect in her sparkling white dress. My family was there and everything was just as it was supposed to be. They played the song for the first dance. Juliet stared at her husband with loving adoration. Everyone around me talked about what a beautiful couple they were and how happy their life together would be. I spotted Holden across the room, weaving his way towards me. I didn’t want to talk to him. I didn’t want this new, better reality to end. I moved in the opposite direction. Juliet would get her happiness. She deserved it.

I ducked in and out of groups, slid behind columns and snuck into the bathroom at one point, always keeping just far enough ahead of him. Until I heard my name announced over the loudspeakers, and I had to go back inside. Juliet stood in the middle of the dance floor, microphone in hand.

“The maid of honor normally gives a toast at these things, but my best friend is painfully shy and has begged me not to make her.” Everyone laughed and looked in my direction. “So I decided to make a toast to her instead. Thank you, Olivia, for always being my friend. For always listening and supporting me. I would never have made it this far without you. You know me better than anyone. Thank you for being my maid of honor and thank you for being my friend. I love you.”
            Everyone applauded and I hugged Juliet. She hugged back—then tightened her hold painfully and hissed in my ear, “How could you let me die?”