The Lost Girl (32 page)

“I knew you would like it,” she said, smiling softly by my side. “It is quite beautiful, if I may say so myself. The sunset is quite extraordinary as well, in its unique way. Maybe one day you’ll get to see it too.”

“Th-thank you, Sky,” I whispered, finally snapping out of my dazed torpor. “I’ll never forget it.”

She chuckled lightly and shook her head. “You probably will. The human mind is not fully evolved to behold this type of sight. It will slowly fade from your memory until there is nothing but a lingering, blurry image. You’ll get to dream about it, though,” she said, staring at the view, as if to memorize it herself.

“Oh … that’s a shame.” I mumbled sadly. I wished I could remember this for ever.

“Well, that was fun!” Sky clapped her hands and turned to look at me. “It’s always great having you around, Gray. Now you must go.”

“W-what?”

“Here, let me help you,” she said, and pushed me softly forward. I scrambled to grab both of her hands. I stumbled and realized the balcony railings had disappeared completely and we were now standing on just a glass platform. I lost my balance and almost fell from the platform, but my grip on Sky’s hands held me in place, balancing precariously on the edge, my body angled in a tilt so I had my back to the sand ocean.

“What are you doing?” I held on to Sky for dear life, quite literally.

“It’s been lovely, but now it is time for you to go, Joey,” she directed me firmly, but still smiling. “Let go.”

I shook my head fiercely. Did she really want me to let go of her hands and fall a dozen storeys down into a deadly sand ocean filled with weird – and probably deadly – creatures? What was she, insane?

“Joey, you have to trust me on this.
Let go
,” she said, more firmly now.

I glanced down and gripped her even harder.

“Let go,”
she said once again. Her tone was strange, ancient and full of power. Something in her voice triggered an immediate response, like a button connected directly to my brain, and my hands instantly opened up, releasing Sky’s.

And then I fell.

I could feel the air rushing past me. But I wasn’t scared. Even when sand and darkness enveloped me and engulfed me whole, I still did not fear my fate … because I could feel Tristan’s scent taking over my senses, and I knew he was close by; he was near me, somehow, somewhere.
He was with me
. And that’s all I needed to know. With him close to me I knew I would be always safe, and that somehow everything was going to be all right …

Long after I was engulfed by darkness I still registered Tristan’s aroma, lingering softly around me like an invisible blanket. Everything was still pitch dark, but I realized that it was more because I had my eyes closed than as a result of the shroud of sand that had enveloped me after my fall. I slowly regained consciousness and tried to move, but a sharp, agonizing pain shot through my abdomen, making me stop immediately.

I blinked groggily at the white ceiling. Everything was bathed in semi-darkness and I couldn’t see clearly. My thoughts were hazy, as if I had been drugged, and I had this strange sense of déjà vu which made my heart start pumping considerably faster.

The lurking images I thought I had put behind me were brought back to my mind. Memories I wished I could forget for ever – Jarvis’s truck, a dark warehouse, the cold knife close to my face – they all flashed in my imagination, making my stomach clench.

I knew I shouldn’t need to worry about Jarvis any more.
Or ever again. He was gone, for ever gone. I didn’t need to be scared now. Right?

I felt something tugging at my hand and my heart rate sped up. With some effort I managed to shift my head a little, to get a better view of my surroundings. I was in a hospital room; there was no mistaking it: the hospital bed, the sterilized smell and blank walls.

The sensation of something tugging at my hand again made panic rise in my chest for a second time, but I tried to fight the fear. I was no longer bound. I was fine; I was safe. Vigil had saved me. I had nothing to be afraid of.

I looked down to see what it was. Tristan was sitting in a chair right beside my bed, his head bent low, his face buried between his arms. One of his hands was holding mine, firmly, as if in desperate need for something to anchor him, as if he were holding on for his own life. His shoulders were shaking a little. He was crying. Hard.

That made me want to cry too.

I squeezed his hand lightly while I fought to hold back tears. I didn’t want to cry now; I needed to be strong for him, to be his anchor. I owed him that much after everything I’d made him go through these past few days of fighting and arguments. I had treated him so badly, so unfairly. I had let all those violent, jealous thoughts take control of my mind and I had unleashed them all on him. I had been a horrible, horrible person. And he didn’t deserve any of it.

His head snapped up as soon as he felt my hand squeezing his, and he stared at me in surprise, his eyes squinting a little in the dark room. His eyes were red and swollen from crying and his hair was disheveled, flopping over his tired face. He was a mess. And I was the reason for it.

“I’m sorry …” I croaked in a low voice. “Please, don’t cry.”

He blinked a couple of times, staring intently at me in complete shock. Then he wiped his tear-stricken face quickly with the sleeve of his coat.

“You’re awake … you’re okay …” he whispered, more to himself than to me.

I tried to smile but it was weak and I knew it looked insincere. When I tried to lift myself up on the bed, another wave of searing hot pain took over the entire left side of my body. I winced and bit my lip to avoid cursing out loud.

“Don’t!” Tristan cried, shooting up from his chair. “Don’t try to move, or you’ll open up your stitches. How do you feel?” he asked, breathless.

“I’m okay, I guess. It only hurts when I breathe,” I joked, trying to lighten the mood. Although my joke was indeed true.

He didn’t laugh, or even smile, though. He knew it was all forced: my smile, the joke, the chuckle. He frowned, worried.

“Do you want me to call the nurse? She can bring you some painkillers … They have given you some already, but we can ask …”

I shook my head slowly, deciding to give up on trying to be spritely. I didn’t want any more drugs. I wanted my head clear. I wanted to be able to think clearly for the first time in a long time. “What happened? How did I end up here?”

He cupped my face tenderly, his touch as gentle and soft as a feather, like he was afraid I might break if he touched me too hard. It was the same gentleness as Vigil when he held me in his arms while I bled out in that abandoned warehouse …

An image of a glass house drifted into my head, eerie, beautiful and so hazy. It was slipping away from me, like a fleeting, waking dream.

Tristan’s soft touch brought me back to reality, his thumb stroking my face carefully. “You’re going to be just fine,” he said, reassuringly, trying to calm me down. His stare was intense. It held a dark, dangerous glint inside, a hardness that didn’t match the softness of his touch. He studied my face, his eyes flickering to my jawline. “Vigil told me …” and he trailed off, unable to voice the rest of the sentence. “I’m glad he took care of him.
For good
.”

My jaw tingled and the flesh underneath stung. That’s when I understood why Tristan’s eyes looked so murderous. Jarvis had punched me real bad a few times … It must have left me bruised all over. That was probably why speaking or moving my head hurt so much. When Tristan glanced up, the hard look in his eyes softened almost instantly, changing quickly to sadness.

“Hey …” I said shakily, holding his tired face in my hand. “I know I must look bad right now, but
you’re
not one to talk about it. Have you seen yourself in a mirror lately, mister? You look way worse than I do!” I tried to joke again. Seeing him that sad was seriously killing me inside.

His eyes filled up fast and he moved his face away from my hand. He tried to cover up his tears by glancing down and wiping at the corners of his eyes. He nodded and chuckled lightly at me. “I know. I probably do.”

“Tristan …” I said seriously, holding his hand tightly to get his full attention. “Seeing you hurting and sad like this gives me more pain than anything that I … I just, please …
I can’t bear …” My voice broke and I was the one unable to finish the sentence this time.

I swallowed my tears. I knew if I started crying now, I wouldn’t be able to stop. I would probably cry for days straight, if the amount of heartache I was feeling in my chest was any indication.

Tristan exhaled deeply and forced a weak smile. “I’m sorry, I should be the one trying to make
you
feel better, not the other way round,” he said, sighing. “Do you … do you want me to leave? I don’t want to upset you. I can go. I’m not even supposed to be here. They wouldn’t let anyone in – just family members are allowed, and … well, I couldn’t but I-I just snuck in,” he said, glancing down to avoid my eyes.

He had used his fading powers to get into the room; that was the reason for all his guilt now.

And that brought the cat out of the bag, I suppose.

He risked looking up briefly before flickering his eyes away again, a distressed grimace carved on his worn-out face. He didn’t want to upset me any more and he knew from previous experience that this was a sore point between us.

“I-I’m sorry. I just wanted to be sure you were really okay. Your mom couldn’t find a flight for tonight, but she’s getting one first thing in the morning. I’ll let you rest now. I’ll just … leave,” he stammered, and started to walk away.

He thought I was still mad at him. The last time we spoke I had told him he wasn’t important to me any more. What a bloody mess I had made …

I held on to his hand, hard. “No. Please, don’t leave,” I pleaded, pulling him back. “I don’t care.”

“W-what?” he said, confused.

“I don’t care. About any of this. It doesn’t matter if you can fade again; it doesn’t matter about your reasons for not telling me. I know that I didn’t even let you explain anything, but Vigil’s powers were messing up my head. I didn’t mean anything I said to you; all those horrible things, they were not true,” I let out on a shaky breath.

“Who am I to yell at you for keeping things secret? I kept my empathy-sight from you for so long. I lied to you about my ability so many times. I don’t have the right to be mad at you about yours,” I said, pulling his hand to rest on my chest. “So, please, don’t leave. I don’t even need to know, Tris. I don’t care about any explanation. If someone needs to be forgiven, here in this room, it’s me.”

And there was so much I still needed to tell him, so much for which I needed to ask for forgiveness. I had kissed Harry. Because we’d needed to know, to know for sure, that we could never be together, that I truly belong with Tristan. But it was something that could still destroy everybody, not only me, but Tristan, Harry and the whole band as well. And then I had kissed Vigil. It was a kiss of gratitude, but I had done it nonetheless. And now I had to tell Tristan everything: he deserved to know. He needed to forgive me for so much …

“I’m so sorry … for everything,” I whispered.

Tristan leaned in, both hands cupping my cheeks softly as he rested his forehead against mine. “Vigil told me what happened and then he brought me here to see you. I’ve never been so scared in my life,” he said quietly, closing his eyes to steady himself. “The doctors told me you had lost too much blood. They had to stop the bleeding and give you a blood transfusion straight away. And then after what seemed like for ever, they told me you were going to be
fine, but I couldn’t see you because I wasn’t family …” He opened his eyes and pleaded fiercely. “Please, don’t ever scare me like that ever again.”

“I’m sorry.” It was all I could say to him.

He smiled weakly and closed the remaining inches between us, giving me a feathery kiss. “I’m sorry too, my love,” he let out with a sigh.

Then he stood up and glanced quickly at the door of the room, and for an instant I thought he was getting ready to leave and I began to panic inside again.

“Ah, screw it,” he muttered under his breath, and turned to me. “Scoot over,” he ordered and climbed into the bed next to me. I bit back the stinging pain to let him lie down beside me. Any pain was worth it to have him here with me. He turned and wrapped an arm behind my head, bringing me warmth and comfort as he held me, sheltering me from all grief. I could almost visualize our auras intertwining as we lay there together, the connection deepening and shining as brightly as ever.

We stayed like that, in a comforting silence, just listening to each other’s breathing in the semi-dark, sterilized room, until he risked speaking again.

“I know you said I don’t have to … but I’d like to explain,” he said very quietly into my ear.

I let out a deep breath. “Tris … I mean it, it’s not import—”

“Just hear me out … please?” His voice was soft, like a delicate caress.

I turned my face to look at him. His gray eyes had an eerie light glowing from within, giving him a ethereal radiance.

“You know how you always admire my gray eyes?” he began.

I nodded. I could never get tired of his sterling-silver eyes. Even if I lived a thousand years, those eyes would always be a wonder to behold.

“I never told you this, but … I hate it when you do. Because I hate my eyes being gray. I think it’s unnatural, and weird, and it makes me feel like a freak. I mean, what normal person has gray eyes like this? Every time I look in the mirror, it’s a constant reminder of how I’m not supposed to be here; I’m not supposed to be alive. That I belong with the dead, with the ghosts. And that I may be living, but I’m not human, not entirely. I’m this freak of nature with weird gray eyes …

“I even avoid dressing in white or black, because it makes it so evident … I thought about getting contact lenses for a while, but I knew it would cause lots of arguments with you, so I didn’t,” he confessed. “And that’s how I feel about the fading thing too, only ten times worse. If disappearing like that doesn’t make me a certified freak, I don’t know what does.” He sighed heavily. “I realized I could still fade the first day I was brought back again, but I hated it so much … I just thought I could, I don’t know, pretend it wasn’t there. That I couldn’t do it any more. I wanted to feel normal, like any other normal human being, you know? So I lied. And I never ever used it again. Until that damned hell cat jumped on me. I faded by instinct then. Survival reflex, I suppose.