Lilith Saintcrow: Heaven's Spite

I’d only asked him once why someone from his part of the world would pick a Viking afterlife. Because, was his answer. Now stop the asking stupid question, milaya, and do your kata.

I found my free fingers were touching the Talisman’s sharp-scratching edges. The gem thrummed, the carved ruby at my throat warming as well. The Eye purred like a kitten under my touch.

I put my hand down with an effort.

“I never got to ask you why you did it. Why you fell for that Sorrows bitch.” I swallowed the rest of the question— why you didn’t stay with me. Why I wasn’t enough. Yet another thing I would never know.

The scar puckered and twitched, tasting the misery in the air. I hadn’t bothered to cover it again. “I guess it doesn’t matter.” The words were ashes. “Not like any answer’s gonna bring you back. But still.”

A rustle of movement. I was up, the bottle hitting the ground and my right-hand gun free, before the shape resolved out of the darkness and I recognized him. I reholstered the gun and waited while he came up the hill. It was a courtesy to make noise while approaching.

When his deeper shadow finally detached itself from the rest of the night, I pitched the words to carry. “I thought you were going to wait for me at home.”

Saul tilted his head slightly. Glitter of eyes, the silver in his hair glinting. “It smelled bad. And I knew you’d come up here.” He avoided the headstone with respectful ease, striding around to the right, and stopped a couple feet away from me.

“Sorry.” I could have been apologizing for both things. “I, uh. Well. It got messy in there. I busted Perry up a bit.” I was suddenly aware of the rags of my T-shirt, rips in my leather pants, the reek of rotting corpse, the ick stiffening in my hair and the mess I’d left behind me just about everywhere tonight. Some days are like that. You just break everything as soon as you drag yourself up out of bed.

My trench coat fluttered. The wind was rising, and it was cold.

He bent and scooped up the bottle. It had landed on its bottom, fortunately. “What else did Perry say?”

“He hinted that a big-time ’breed was looking to come through.” Again, I added silently. Since I only narrowly slammed the door on him the last time. It wasn’t technically a lie, but the less Saul knew about that case the better. He worried enough as it was. “A ’breed with a big reason to hate any hunter of Jack Karma’s lineage.”

“Oh.” He touched the bottle’s open mouth to his lips, then handed it to me. A graceful gesture, like all Were movements. Polite, tactful, expressing everything. “Which is why you’re going to invent some reason to ask me to stay at Galina’s.”

My face froze into a mask. I didn’t think I was that obvious.

But who else knew me the way he did? “It crossed my mind,” I admitted. Then, because it was dark and we were at my teacher’s grave, because the Talisman throbbed like a sore tooth on my chest and I ached all over, especially with the heavy weight of the bezoar in my pocket, I told him the truth. “It would kill me to lose you, Saul.”

He turned his head. Clean, beautiful profile presented as he looked down at the city. “I’ve done all right so far.”

Damn touchy Weres. But at least he wasn’t assuming I didn’t need him around and clamming up. That was no good. “I’m not implying you can’t take care of yourself. I just… Jesus, Saul. Please.”

“Look.” He pointed, a swift gesture taking in the lights huddled in the valley, cuddled against the blackness of the river’s flow and the bulk of the looming mountains. The stars were hard, cold diamonds scattered over dirty velvet. “That’s Santa Luz.”

I know that. I lifted the bottle to my mouth, waited for him to make his point.

He waited a beat, as if he’d expected me to say something, then went on. “Every single innocent soul down in that valley is pulling on you from one direction. And I’m pulling from the other. How long is it going to be before we tear you in half?”

Is that what you think? That you’re on different sides? The vodka burned my mouth. I swallowed. Dried blood crackled on my skin. “You’re wrong. You both pull me in the same direction, Saul. The only thing pulling on the other side is… this. The things I’m trained to do. I commit murder every night. Several times, if everything’s hopping and the ’breed are uppity.” It was a night for uncomfortable truths. I would have expected us to be halfway to a screaming match by now. “Sometimes I wonder what makes me different from them.” It was my turn to wait before giving him the answer. “Then I realize it’s you.”

“Jill—”

I wanted to get it all out. “I’m scared, Saul. I can’t retire. This is the only thing I know how to do. The only thing I’m capable of. And if something happens to you, I am going to end up worse than the hellspawn. Because I won’t care.”

Silence, then, between us. I lifted the bottle, let a thin stream dip from it and plash on the headstone. None of us would get drunk—my helltainted metabolism ran too fast, and Weres burn through alcohol like it’s sugar.

And Mikhail? He wasn’t even here. It was just a stone I poured hooch on to make myself feel better.

Most of the time I was glad he was sleeping soundly. Because if he wasn’t I would have to make him. Then there were the other times, when I almost didn’t care.

I wanted him back .

Saul was very still, the charms in his hair glinting. “I wouldn’t take the Long Road without you, Jill.” Quietly, stubbornly. “Not even you could make me do that.”

Sometimes talking to him felt like a cardiac arrest, like my heart was literally stopping. Or just hurting. What do you do when you love someone so much your body does that? You can’t fight it, you can’t shoot it, you can’t do anything but let it happen. “I don’t want to push my luck.”

He stepped close. Paused. Stepped closer. His arm came over my shoulders, and the tension went out of me. I leaned into him, filth and dried blood making small crinkling sounds as my head dropped down. Silver chimed as charms hit each other, and I saw the red glow of the Talisman on my chest had muted to a glimmer. It faded as I leaned into him.

He let out a soft sigh. “It’s not luck. I chose this, and so did you. We made a decision. Even if you let go, kitten, I’m still holding on.”

A hot bubble rose up in my chest. It was a scream. I had to work to keep it locked down, swallowing several times. “Saul?” Again, the high, breathless voice. I sounded fifteen again. And scared.

“Shhh. Listen.”

I did. Heard nothing but the breeze in the trees, whispering over the well-watered grass. Traffic in the distance. My heartbeat, a song in my ears. Silver clinking a little as Saul moved, lifting his chin.

“I’ll go to Galina’s.” Quietly. His arm tightened around me.

Oh, thank God. “Thank—”

“Someone has to look after Gilberto. You’ve sent Hutch there too, I presume?”

I nodded. He could feel the movement against his shoulder. I reeked. He smelled of healthy cat Were, the dry-oily, slightly spicy tang of a brunet male. “Saul—”

“Don’t thank me, Jill. I’m doing this for your peace of mind. I’ll stay there for a day or so, but then I’m back on the job with you. It’s a compromise.”

Compromise, consensus, cooperation. It’s how Weres work. It’s also goddamn annoying. “You mean you’re just staying there long enough for it to get dangerous.”

“You see? A compromise.” He even, damn him, sounded amused. “So Perry’s hinting about a hellbreed coming through. What makes you believe him?”