My Soul Immortal (30 page)

Late one afternoon after Marlee has left for the day, Grady paces the room then takes the seat next to mine. He clears his throat to get my attention. His forehead is creased with worry, and black circles sit beneath his eyes, which are tapered into slits.

I frown.

“I’m concerned about you. You don’t sleep, you don’t eat, and you never leave her room. Look at yourself. What is Leah going to think when she wakes up?”

“She’s not waking up.” My voice is dead even, as cold as ice.

Grady flinches but continues. “The doctors and nurses are getting anxious about your behavior.”

“Tell them not to be. We both know starvation and insomnia can’t hurt me. Focus on your sister. Everyone needs to focus on her.”

“Hopelessness can. I’m watching despair eat away at you from the inside out. I know what you’re planning.”

“You don’t know shit.” I turn to Leah.

Grady grabs my arm, and I yank it away. He releases me, but I can feel his gaze burn into the side of my head.

“I don’t understand you. When Leah does die, I’ll never see her again, but you will.” His voice cracks and strains against the words.

“She’s wrong,” I hiss, my focus barreling down on him. “Don’t you see? She believes it, but she’s wrong. She and I will never find each other again. Her remembering who I am, recalling our past was a fluke, a strange twist of fate. If I believed as she does, of course, I’d be saddened by her sudden departure, but my main concern would be for you and your mum. But Leah didn’t know what she was talking about.”

“I’ve doubted my sister before, but she’s always right. Jack, have some faith.”

“No! Faith won’t do me any good here!”

Grady sounds too similar to his sister to do either of us any good. I leave the room, but I don’t go far. Observers ogle me from the waiting area. Whispers flow from behind the nurses’ station where I’m waiting. I fight the urge to growl at the onlookers.

When Grady finally leaves two hours later, I resume my vigil and collapse into the chair. Sometime around midnight, I doze off, coaxed into sleep by emotional fatigue and the electronic whir of the machines. The shriek of an alarm jolts me awake.

“Leah.” I choke. In the staggering moments that follow, my heart feels paralyzed, frozen mid-beat.
Is it possible I’m dying with her?
A faint smile nudges my lips.

Medical personnel charge into the room, squeezing me out of the way. In an explosion of action, they fight to save her life once again. Pressed against the wall, I struggle for oxygen. Now that the time is here, how can I ever let her go? Movement in my peripheral vision beckons my attention. Artagan stands at the observation window, his eyes affixed on Leah. The sight takes me back to the evening he approached me at the bar, the night he glared at the couple in the very same way. The realization hurls me from the room. I claw at Artagan’s shirt and shove him against the wall of the hallway.

Icy barbs stab down my spine. The freezing burn spreads, racing to the tips of my fingers and toes. I snarl between clenched teeth, “No! What are you doing?”

The unfeeling sapphire eyes snap to me. His words come out gruff and forceful. “My job.”

“You can’t have her!” I yell, driving my forearm hard against his throat.

A nurse scowls and steps from her station. “You two are going to have to keep the noise down.” She wags her long finger in Artagan’s face. “Or I’m going to be forced to have
both
of you removed.”

I glower at the nurse but step away. Still trembling with anger, I place one hand on the pane of the observation window separating Leah from me. The never-ending alarm blares. Regardless of doctors and nurses all wrestling with Death to save her, whether Leah lives or dies isn’t up to them. Artagan, the son of Death, holds all the cards.

I face him. “Please, first bring her back. Then we’ll talk.”

He looks away, rubbing his forefinger and thumb along his pointed, stubbly chin.

“I’m not above begging, if that’s what you want.”

A galloping rhythm of the machine takes off again, following the beating of her heart. I drag in a jagged breath. Artagan pulls his gaze from Leah to stare at me.

“Outside,” he commands.

I nod.

As we leave, Artagan dramatically bows to the scowling nurse and smirks at her disapproval. His cavalier attitude stokes the fire of my temper. Somehow, I contain my hostility. I follow him to the elevator, through zigzagging sterile halls, and out into the dark. Out from under watchful eyes, anger explodes through the veneer of my control. My fist slams into Artagan’s jaw, sending him sprawling to the ground.

“I’ll do whatever I have to do to make sure you never go near her again!” I growl and rock onto the balls of my feet, poised for whatever Artagan might throw at me.

Artagan glares up at me, wiping away the blood trickling from his split lip. He pushes himself to his feet with a groan. Surprisingly he doesn’t retaliate, and I relax. “Gathering Leah isn’t my choice, Jack.”

“Then whose choice is it? Wait. The decision lies with that damned council of yours, doesn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“Take me to them.”

He looks me up and down and shakes his head. “That meeting will be quite entertaining. However, I’m not taking a man who resembles street scum to the council. Look at yourself. You’ve let yourself fall into wrack and ruin. And you don’t smell much better. Go clean up first.”

“Seriously? I couldn’t care less.”

“What’s most important to you?”

I squint, unable to figure out what he’s getting at, but I answer anyway. “Easy one. Leah.”

“Just Leah?”

“Alive.” I clarify.

Artagan smiles. “Thought so. So the real question is what is Leah’s life worth to you?”

“Anything. Everything. Whatever the cost to give her a long, full life, I’ll pay it.”

He nods. “Your life, then?”

“Yes! Take it.”

His smile grows wider. “Well, that gives you something to bargain with, doesn’t it? You can’t cheat Death, but that doesn’t mean you can’t buy him off. First, you need to clean up. You show up looking like this, and they might take offense. They think of themselves as royalty, at least some of them do, and you’re going to need all the votes you can get.”

“Votes?”

“We’ll discuss the particulars later.”

“What about Leah?”

“She’s safe for now. I’m her gatherer, and no one else will touch her. It took some haggling, and I probably owe a million and one favors, but Thanatos, the head of the council, named me responsible for Leah’s departure. So, I’ll repeat myself. Go clean up.”

“I need to see Leah before we go.”

“All right. I’ll wait here.”

In Leah’s room, only the beeping of the monitor remains. She looks better. A bit of color has returned to her cheeks, and she’s breathing on her own. I sit next to her on the bed and take her hand. “I don’t know if you can hear me, but if you can, remember I love you, and I’ll think about you always.” I lean in and press my lips gently to hers then whisper, “Good-bye, love.” Summoning all the strength I can muster, I release her hand and walk out the door, knowing that one way or another, I’ll never see Leah again.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

The apartment is quiet. Grady and his mum are fast asleep, exactly what I was hoping for. Paper and pen in hand, I sit at the dining table. When she’s strong, Leah will need to know what I’ve done so that she can understand what she will consider a reckless act. I can’t leave her always wondering. My absence will be hard enough without the uncertainty of where I’ve disappeared to. I stare at the blank paper. Despite all I need to say, after twenty minutes, all I’ve written is
Dearest Leah
. I lay down the pen. With a bit of time, maybe the right words will find me.

I grab clean clothes out of my duffel and slip into the bathroom. I turn on the shower and flip the knob to hot. Hunched in the spray, my head in my hands, I worry about how I’ll convince a group of monarchical immortals to take me and spare Leah. No ideas come.

When the hot water expires, I halfway dress and open the bathroom door to release the steam, then I shave the weeks of growth from my face.

Artagan appears and leans against the doorframe.

I jump, causing the razor to nick my chin. “How did you get into the apartment?”

“Never you mind.” His voice comes out in barely a whisper. “What is that? The bump there.” In the reflection, I see him point at my back.

“A bullet.”

He snorts. “Nice.”

The creak of a bed followed by heavy footfalls interrupts us. Artagan steps away and blends into the shadows. Without a sound, he’s gone.

The door next to the bathroom opens. Grady steps into view, his eyes tired and wary. He cocks his head to the side, digesting the scene. His eyes then widen, and a flicker of hope darts across his face.

“Did she wake up?”

“No. Sorry I woke you. I was going to leave a note.”

“A note? Why?” Grady gives me a sleepy squint.

“I think I might have a way to save Leah. I have to try.”

“How? I’ll come with you.”

“No. This is something I have to do on my own,” I say, keeping my voice easy. “Besides, I need you to tell Leah some things for me… when she wakes up.”

He hesitates, and his brow creases. “You can tell her yourself when you get back.”

In the mirror, I give Grady a long solemn look.

At first, he seems confused, but I see the full weight of my meaning sinking in as his expression falls. “Jack, no. Not like this. Leah wouldn’t—”

“I refuse to live without her. Truth be told, I’ve always been a bit of a selfish bastard. If I wasn’t, I would have walked away the first time I saw Leah.”

Grady huffs. “Yeah, that would have helped, leaving her thinking she’s nuts.”

I continue, disregarding his comment, “We both know you’d give your life to save hers if you could.” His silence acknowledges I’m right.

I set the razor down on the side of the basin and stare at the water dripping from the faucet into the soapy water. “When Leah wakes, tell her I’m sorry for the things I’ve done wrong and for the heartache I’m causing, but most of all, tell her I’m sorry for the life we can’t share.” I pause.
Faith brings strength.
What will Leah’s life resemble with all hope stripped away? The notion of her future replicating my past makes me shudder. Spinning around, I face him. “No, forget what I said. Instead, tell her she’s right. Tell her I will see her again in the next life. Promise me.”

“First, you don’t believe the two of you will ever find one another again. Secondly, she knows.”

“Convince her.”

Grady presses his knuckles against his pursed lips.

“Please try. I know the grief that lies ahead. Hope and faith will help her. She’ll never know she’s wrong, that we lied. When her next life comes, she’ll have forgotten her past, won’t even remember me.” The ache in my chest flares with my words.

“How can you be so sure you’ll never be together again?”

“It’s happened before to an immortal named Kemisi. She’s alone, and he’s living his life happily with no memory of her. I can’t live on knowing she’s in this world, loving—I told you I was a selfish bastard.”

Grady sighs. His rigid pose vanishes as his shoulders droop. “I’ll find a way. I promise.”

“Thank you. Take care of her for me.”

He nods, and I offer him my hand. Instead of shaking it, he yanks me into an awkward one-armed hug, giving me three hard pats on the back.

He steps away without meeting my eyes. “Bye, Jack,” he whispers then slips out of sight. I hear the click of his bedroom door shutting.

I lean against the sink, resting my forehead on the cold mirror. Moisture pools in my eyes. I look straight into the mirror, past my likeness, past the reflected room, directly into a pair of emerald-green eyes. In my magnificent delusion, she’s whole and healthy, standing in front of me, behind a pane of glass. I cannot continue to exist while knowing that saving her is within my grasp.

“So sorry, love,” I whisper. “There’s no other way.”

I tug my shirt over my head and walk into the living room. In the weak glow of a streetlight, Artagan reclines on the couch, looking at home as he thumbs through a magazine. What a difference those four short weeks have made—the happiest, scariest, and most painful of my life.

“Let’s get out of here. I want to get this over with,” I say.

Artagan stands and tosses the magazine on the couch. I shadow his steps out the door.

Within an hour, we’re on a train. God only knows where we’re heading. Somewhere northeast of York is all I can figure. The gray curtain of rain streaks in diagonal patterns across the glass, blurring the scenery beyond. A suggestion of pink bleeds into the eastern sky and hints at morning. Looking past the reflection of my drawn face, I see Leah’s enraged expression staring back at me. Her emerald eyes spark wildly. I can even hear her words in my head.
Jack Hammond, don’t you even think about sacrificing yourself. Turn around now and come back to me.

I shake my head.
Too late to change my mind, love
. I exhale and glare out the window, trying to look beyond the furious likeness.

“Beer?” Artagan asks, interrupting my thoughts.

“Yes. Can you see if they carry Prize Old Ale?”

He nods, stands, and leaves. When he returns, he shoves a glass of amber liquid into my hand. “No Prize.”

“Course not,” I grumble.

“Thought you might need something harder anyway.”

He’s right, of course. I hold up the glass. “To what I’ve always wanted.”

Artagan brings the glass to his lips but stops before he sips. “Leah.”

“No. To Death.”

Liar
, says the voice in my head—her voice.

I gulp down the woody-tasting liquid in one swallow. The burn ripples down my throat, followed shortly by a numbness leaching through my body. I roll my shoulders and crack my neck, hoping to loosen the tension stored in my muscles, but the tautness seems cemented in place.

“I grasp more of your situation than you might realize,” Artagan says. “The legend you’ve heard about me isn’t entirely accurate. After being handed down through the generations, the story has been shortened and modified. Portions are true. Olluna was an immortal who fled her village and died, but that’s where the truth and the legend diverge.”