Of the Knowledge of Good and Evil (19 page)

Eli’s eyes widened. “Fine.” He rounded on Dahlia. “How many people have you killed?”

Jericho’s heart stopped beating as he watched Dahlia’s face. He didn’t want to hear this. Dahlia nervously shifted her weight.

“Answer the question,” Eli snapped. “How many lives have you personally ended?”

Dahlia’s eyes grew steely. “None, okay?” She took a deep breath. “I haven’t
personally
killed anyone, but that doesn’t mean I’m not guilty of killing. I let Taylor do … horrible things,” her voice broke, and she stopped talking and closed her eyes.

The Knowledge whispered
good
. Jericho turned slightly toward Eli. “Truth,” he said softly. He squeezed Dahlia’s hand, and she opened her eyes. Anguish filled her face, and tears swam at the brim of her lashes. “How many experiments did you conduct with Taylor?” Jericho asked her gently.

“Also none,” she said on a shuddering breath. “It was my job to get the women out of the facility whenever it was time for an experiment.”

Eli sucked in a loud breath and looked at Jericho desperately. “Also truth,” Jericho confirmed after listening for the Knowledge.

Eli’s fists clenched and unclenched by his sides. “Are you good or evil?” he asked, confusion clearly marking his face.

Dahlia shut her eyes. “I don’t … know,” she finally whispered after several seconds.

And Jericho could stand it no longer. He tugged her forward by her hand until she collided with his chest, and then he wrapped both arms around her. He shot Eli a dirty look over her head and leaned in to whisper in her ear. “You’re good, sweetheart. Never doubt that.” He loved her so much in that moment. He couldn’t ever imagine loving her more. “You listen to me,” Jericho said to Eli. “She’s done nothing to you personally. You have no reason to seek revenge from her anymore. Everything she did she did to protect her son. She’s just as much a victim as you are. That little boy in there needs her. You have to let her — let this — go.”

Eli closed his eyes, and Jericho watched him take a deep breath. He held it for several seconds, and then blew it out and opened his eyes. “I love you, brother,” he told Jericho. “If this means that much to you, we’ll figure something out. I don’t know what we can do, but I couldn’t stand for something to separate us.”

Jericho swallowed around the lump in his throat, silently thanking God that he didn’t have to say goodbye to his woman and his best friend in the same night. He reached out his right hand and offered it to Eli, who quickly grasped it and gave it a firm squeeze.

Suddenly, Eli frowned. He pulled his hand away and stared at the palm. He jerked his head up. “You’re bleeding,” he said, laying his palm flat and showing Jericho the smear of blood that marred its surface.

Dahlia jerked away from him at the words, and they both looked at Eli’s hand. Then Dahlia grabbed Jericho’s hand and raised it up to catch the dim light coming from the street lamps.

Light splashed across his skin, illuminating a deep cut on his index finger.

Jericho frowned. He didn’t remember getting it.

“Is that from … ,” Dahlia seemed to be choosing her words carefully, “the sword we found?”

Something began to tingle in the back of Jericho’s neck. “No, it can’t be. That would have healed by now.”

“You cut yourself on the sword?” Eli asked anxiously.

“It was just a nick, Eli,” Jericho replied, for some reason feeling like he was in trouble and had to explain himself.

Eli’s face grew grim.

“What’s going on?” Jericho asked.

“We’ve been working off of Taylor’s theory,” Eli said hesitantly. “So far, we think he’s right: the sword might be the only thing that can kill someone who’s eaten the fruit from the Tree of Eternal Life.”

Dahlia gasped. “Is Jericho going to be okay?” she demanded.

Eli lifted his hand up in surrender. “It’s still a theory. We’ve called in a language expert to translate whatever is written on the sword. We’ll know more after she takes a look at it.”

“And until then?” Jericho heard himself whisper. He couldn’t help thinking that this was something he deserved after his recent behavior.

“I really think you’ll be fine,” Eli whispered back. “We’ll keep an eye on it. It’s just a scratch, not a mortal wound.”

He didn’t look convinced. Jericho swallowed.

“When can we expect you back at the compound?” Eli asked Jericho after several seconds of tense silence.

Jericho looked at Dahlia out of the corner of his eye, wondering how she would respond to the question.

She blanched, and Jericho felt his heart fall to his feet and shatter. This was where it all ended.

“I’m not … I can’t … .” Dahlia shook her head in horror, misunderstanding the “you” to encompass both Jericho and herself.

Eli’s eyes widened briefly, and he cast Jericho a look. “I’ll just go sit in the car for a while.” And then he turned on his heel and beat a hasty retreat.

With leaden feet, Jericho turned toward Dahlia. “Won’t you come with me?” he couldn’t stop himself from asking.

She closed her eyes, for all the world appearing as though she were in mortal pain.

Words continued to pour from his mouth. “I can make a home for you and Gabriel. We’ll live off base. Please — ” his voice broke on the word, and Dahlia held up a hand.

“Stop,” she barely whispered. “Jericho, I can’t stand anymore. You have to stop.”

Jericho snapped his mouth shut, swallowing the remainder of his heart and soul and bracing himself for the worst.

• • •

Dahlia took a deep breath. She was stalling, praying for the strength she would need to tell him no when everything in her heart demanded that she say yes.

All that he’d offered sounded so wonderful. She could have Gabriel
and
Jericho. He would keep her safe. They could start a family together. Unconsciously, Dahlia’s hand came to rest on her lower stomach. She could be growing their child right now — probably was.

That snapped her to attention. “No,” she whispered. Not just no, but hell no. There was no way she was going to get pulled into a relationship with a man because she was carrying his baby. That did not make a happy relationship.

And everything Jericho had offered
did
seem wonderful. In fact, so wonderful that she would come to rely on him — as she had already started to do in the last few days. He would suck her in, and before she knew it, she would be right back where she was now: recovering from the devastating life choice of choosing to love the wrong man. For all of the wrong reasons.

A baby. A compulsory love. That was no reason to be with someone.

And so she had to be strong.

She closed her eyes. “I’m not going with you,” she whispered.

Even though he had to have been expecting it, she heard his breath catch, and thought she also heard a soft groan of pain.

She brought her eyes to his, but immediately closed them against the sight of tears brimming in the bottom of his eyes.

“Do you … love me?” he asked.

She did. She loved him with all her heart. Just as she’d loved Gabriel’s father before everything went to hell. What was to prevent Jericho from doing exactly what Luis had done? “It doesn’t matter,” Dahlia told him.

“It matters to me,” Jericho said through gritted teeth as one tear slipped from his lower eyelid and trailed down his cheek.

She realized he would never let her go if she told him she loved him, so she did what she had to. “No,” she nearly choked around the lie. “I don’t love you.”

He reached for her hand, but she jerked it out of the way.

“Believe what I’m telling you,” she whispered viciously. “Believe what I’m saying without proof. No one in my life has ever trusted me, not even when it comes to matters of my own heart.”

Jericho’s hand dropped back to his side. His sigh was one of utter defeat, and Dahlia knew with sickening certainty that she had won. She had succeeded in driving him away. She hoped he left soon, because she had perhaps two minutes before she broke down into sobs.

“I’ll always love you, Dahlia,” he whispered to the pavement at his feet. “And if the only way I can show you that is to give you your freedom, then so be it. But know that I will always be waiting for you.”

Without another look or word, he turned away from her and strode to Eli’s waiting vehicle. Dahlia watched through her wavering tears as he drove out of her life.

• • •

Jericho was reminded once more why Eli was his best friend when he didn’t demand any answers but simply drove them away from Dahlia’s house as quickly as possible.

In the quiet of the SUV cab, Jericho struggled for control. Every mile that separated him from his mate was excruciating. He wasn’t sure how he was keeping himself from utterly breaking down or bellowing out his pain and startling Eli into crashing the car. He had to make a noise or explode, so he forced himself to talk to his friend. “How are we … going … to explain … .” That was as far as Jericho could get. Complex thought was beyond him at this moment. He only knew that he’d royally screwed things up for Eli. Now Eli had a missing prisoner to explain because of his loyalty to Jericho.

“The sword,” Eli said simply, somehow knowing what Jericho was getting at. “When you retrieved the sword, she was there at the facility. You fought, and she took a mortal blow.”

Jericho shivered at the finality of Eli’s plan. If they spread the rumor that Dahlia was dead, what were the chances that he would ever be able to get her back? “I can’t … tell that to people,” he murmured. Pain kicked in his chest at the thought of Dahlia dead.

“I understand. I wouldn’t be able to either if it was Abilene,” Eli said. “We’ll write the statement together. You’ll sign it. The case will be closed. You won’t be questioned. I’ll let them know it would be too painful for you to discuss the death of your mate.”

Jericho couldn’t figure out why Eli was being so kind to him. This whole plan was going to blow up in their faces, and for what? So Jericho could live in misery away from his woman so she could be free? No one in this car was benefiting from that.

Still. “Thank you,” Jericho whispered hoarsely. It was the best option they had.

Three months later

Dahlia glared at the pair of movers standing on her front porch. “You want to repeat that again?” she asked them in a tone of voice that suggested their answer had better be no.

The two men glanced nervously at each other, and then one of them said, “We’re here to move your things to your new house.”

Dahlia blinked once. Twice. She pursed her lips. “I wasn’t aware that I was moving. Or that I had a new house.”

Both men frowned. “We’ve never heard that before,” one of them said hesitantly.

The other one lost his patience. “Look, lady. Here’s the order. It was placed last week. You’re paid in full, and we’re to take your items across town to this address.” He showed Dahlia the paperwork and pointed with a grubby finger at an address.

Dahlia took a stumbling step back. That address was in the wealthy part of town. Her heart sank.

This was Jericho’s doing. Again.

She looked over her shoulder to the interior of the house, taking in the high-end furniture that had been arriving weekly since Dahlia had sent Jericho away. Another new car — a sporty BMW for Esperanza — sat beside the truck Jericho had purchased in the driveway, and she could hear Gabriel shouting at the television as he played video games on his shiny new PlayStation.

Frustration boiled up inside of her. Even though she’d sent him away, he was still finding ways to be in her life — to make her rely on him. And he’d been devious in the timing of the gifts by waiting until Gabriel would be home from school so he would see them. And she wasn’t the type of mother who would snatch a better way of living from her child’s hands just because she resented the giver.

But a house? There was only one explanation for the progressively extravagant gifts. Jericho knew.

Dahlia felt a flare of panic. “No, this isn’t happening. Give me the keys to the house and go away.”

The one who had lost patience said, “We don’t have the damn keys, lady. It’s
your
house. You’re supposed to have the keys.”

The last of Dahlia’s temper ignited. “Go! Get back in your truck and go.” They seemed startled, but turned to do so. “Wait, give me that,” she hissed, reaching out and snatching the order that contained the house’s address. She didn’t even watch them leave as she pulled out her new cellphone — another gift from Jericho — and did a quick Google search on the property, locating the name of the real estate company that had made the sale. She dialed the number of the main office.

As soon as the secretary answered, Dahlia said, “Yes, I’m from the gas department. There’s a problem over at,” she looked down at the paper in her hand, “850 Cherry Street. Nothing huge that needs immediate attention, but I can’t seem to find the new purchaser’s contact information. Can you contact the buyer and tell them to meet me there this evening?” It was short notice, but she knew Jericho would drop everything to come to her if she asked. And that did not make her happy. At all.

She thanked the woman as she assured her she would get the message to the new homeowner and ended the call. Her stomach gave a leap of joy that she quickly squelched. She would not be excited about seeing Jericho again. She simply had to see him face-to-face to tell him to knock off all the gifts.

That was all.

• • •

Jericho slammed down the phone in the main room of the facility, causing everyone to swing around and stare at him.

The small huddle in the middle of the room contained a ready-to-pop Abilene, a hovering Eli, several scientists, and the new addition to the facility: language expert Grace Tucker, PhD. They had been leaning over the flaming sword doing God-knows-what — just as they’d been doing for the last three months — until Jericho’s uncharacteristic display of exuberance distracted them.

He couldn’t keep his idiot smile from his face, and Eli tilted his head as he observed him. A concerned expression crossed his face, and he leaned down to kiss Abilene’s head quickly, then gestured for Jericho to follow him into Eli’s office.