Melissa de la Cruz - Bloody Valentine

“Kill her first,” Jack sneered, pointing at Schuyler. She stared at Jack’s angry, contorted face. Schuyler held his gaze for a moment, and she shuddered to see so much hate in his eyes.

It was a trick; it had to be. He was lying. Wasn’t he? She was about to panic but she forced herself to think it through. It had to be a lie, but for some reason Jack wanted her to believe he did not love her. Then she realized. Jack knew . He knew about the ring and the power it had over him, a power that was fueled by the deepest emotion in her soul: her love for him. She had to find a way to stop loving him. It was the hardest thing she had ever done, but she willed herself, she tricked herself into believing the lie. She believed it with all of her heart. Jack did not love her. Jack had never loved her. Jack wanted her dead. Jack…

And just as he wished, her love for him faltered for a moment.

The curse was broken, and the ring that held him fell to the ground smoking. The transformation was instantaneous. Jack vanished, and there was only Abbadon, the Angel of Destruction, rearing his ugly head, his dark wings beating against the wind.

With a ferocious strength, Abbadon grappled with the guard holding the black sword, and the weapon twisted under his mighty grip, shattering in midair. Abbadon lifted the frail and confused Venator by the back of his neck and tossed him toward the dark whirlwind.

Schuyler acted just as quickly, turning to face the Vena-tor whose appearance had begun this terror-filled night. She slid between Oliver and the Venator’s blade, swinging low to parry his quick blow as they twisted weapons in midair. He tossed his dagger to the side and pulled a longer blade from its scabbard. But Oliver, tired of captivity, found new strength as a shot of adrenaline pulsed through his veins. He found the Venator’s vulnerable side and delivered a powerful punch. The Venator turned to him swinging his blade, but Oliver’s diversion left his right flank unprotected.

Schuyler swung at the open spot, her blade slashing deep into his armor. The Venator wrenched sideways, confused by the multiple blows, unnerved by the strength of her sword. He tried to balance himself, but a sudden, unexpected kick from Bliss sent him sprawling to the ground. He collapsed in defeat.

Schuyler doubled over, catching her breath, when Jack laid a tender hand on her shoulder. “It’s done,” he said. “We’re safe. Let’s go.”

“Jack—” She could not find the words. Even if the battle had been won, she felt as if she had failed him. Even if it had been a trick, even if it had been something she’d had to do to restore his power, she wanted him to know that she had never stopped loving him. Not even for that instant. She had been able to trick the spell to break the curse, but her heart would always remain steadfast.

“I know,” he said softly. “As I hope you know…”

“You don’t have to say it,” she whispered, tears springing to her eyes to see Jack’s green eyes shining with their usual warmth again. It had been too frightening to believe in his anger and indifference. It spoke to her deepest fear—that Jack’s feelings for her were false, that their love was all a dream. But now as he held her in his arms, she realized her fears were a dream, and it was their love that was true.

“I am sorry for putting you through that. Forgive me,” he said, his face buried in her hair. His hand cupped the back of her head gently, but with the same possessive weight that always gave her a secret thrill.

She shook her head. It had been an ordeal, but one that they had faced together. Their friends were safe and their love was more powerful than any curse. Nothing could hold them back now.

When she blinked her eyes again, all of them were back in the physical world, in the tunnels under the villa.

A toast,” Oliver proposed, standing with his wineglass raised. There were only four of them at the table: the happy couple and their two friends who had traveled so far to be with them today. They had weathered violence and evil, and now they were ready to celebrate.

Schuyler beamed and leaned back against Jack, waiting to see what Oliver would say. After they had escaped from the Villa Malavolta, leaving the Countess’s army of Vena-tors a crumpled and disbanded heap and no longer a threat to anyone’s safety, they had followed Jack back up to the city streets. They had seen their friends safely to their hotel, and after allowing a few hours to freshen up and recover from their latest adventure, they had agreed to meet at a local trattoria for dinner.

Oliver had taken her aside on the walk from the palazzo to the restaurant, linking arms with her. “He won’t mind, will he?” he smiled, motioning to Jack.

Schuyler shook her head. “Of course not, Ollie. It’s so good to see you,” she said, giving his arm a squeeze. She marveled at the ease of their affection. When they had parted ways at the airport just a few months ago, she had wondered if she would ever see him again, and it made her heart swell to see him looking so happy and healthy. “You look different. You look better. What did the Venators do to you?” she joked.

“Nothing this old boy can’t handle,” he assured her. “But you’re right. I am different.”

He told her about Freya, the witch who had cured his heart and his blood. “I am no longer marked,” he said.

“I felt it.” She nodded. She scanned his open, friendly face. “I am so glad.” They were back to their former allegiance, two friends, their emotions neatly organized back to the way it used to be. Oliver was right. It had to be magic.

“So is it serious?” she teased.

Oliver shook his head. “No. I’ll probably never see her again, but it’s okay. Don’t you worry about me,” he said, before planting a hearty kiss on her forehead.

“Hey!” Jack called. “Only the groom gets to kiss the bride!”

Schuyler and Oliver giggled, and they followed Jack and Bliss into the small café. When the manager found out it was a pre-wedding dinner, they were treated to a feast: steaming plates of tender beef carpaccio and grilled zucchini, white truffle carbonara, ravioli stuffed with pears and pecorino cheese, a buttery and tender Florentine steak. For dessert, there were plates of Sacher torte and tarte tatin and the best tiramisu Schuyler had ever tasted.

Now Oliver was standing in the middle of the restaurant, clearing his throat. “A toast,” he said. “A toast to an amazing couple. I wanted to say something simple and elegant for this momentous occasion, so I’ll leave it to the poets instead. This is a poem that was composed for a wedding.” He began to read from a poem by Frank O’Hara. It was a winding tale of love and friendship, and the group listened keenly. “‘This poem goes on too long because our friendship has been long, long for this life and these times.’” Oliver smiled. “‘And I would make it as long as I hope our friendship lasts if I could make poems that long.’”

“Hear, hear,” Jack cheered, and Schuyler clinked his glass.

Oliver took his seat to wild applause, as even the rest of the restaurant’s patrons had stopped to listen to the music of his words.

Bliss stood up next. “Ollie, you’re a hard act to follow,” she chided. She cleared her throat. “I just want to say how honored I am to be here today. We love you, Sky, and because we love Sky, we love you too, Jack. Take care of each other. Be kind to each other. You have all our good wishes and all of our hearts. Don’t forget us and don’t forget to ask for help when you need it.” She paused, and for a moment Schuyler thought Bliss would talk about the many dangers they would soon be facing. Her friends knew that after the bonding, she and Jack would be separated, that this was just a small bubble, an oasis of happiness before a long and dark story of separation and unknown menace.