Eve eyed Arric cautiously.

  “Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable?”

  She couldn’t help but laugh, the blade in her chest dug harder as she did, but it was worth it.

  “Fuck!” came Nisha’s voice from the floor below.

  "God damnit now tell me that’s not fucking performative," Eve muttered under her breath.

  Something burned in Arric’s eyes for a moment before giving way to a caring glance and a subtle smile.

  “Nothing for comfort…no…although, I should probably pack some clothes I guess.”

  Eve was suddenly aware of how tense she'd been. Her shoulders dropped from her ears as she slid down from the headboard. A dull ache rolled through the blade.

  “Shit, Rose I’m sorry I was –”

  Eve's face turned red.

  “Have I been sensory guarding since I woke up? Or did you hear and see all of that?”

  , Eve thought, .

  “Yes they're…fine.”

  , Eve thought.

  Eleven souls. Eleven shards ripped from the crystalline caverns in the Incorporeum. Eleven binding rituals of blood and brimstone.

  Eleven gaping holes in her head.

  “I see you over there,” Arric's lips curled into a sneer, “don't you dare mourn what was already dead. What you brought back, the rest you distu–”

  He faltered, as if fighting with himself.

  “Eve, I'm…Castigan is –”

  Eve breathed deeply, letting her stomach expand to avoid disturbing the wound in her chest. She was rewarded with a deep pain in the cauterized wound in her side.

  “Can't fucking win,” She muttered under her breath. She looked into Arric's eyes. Trying to discern who exactly she was speaking to now.

  Wide. Perceptive. Open.

  Arric, she decided.

  “Listen, Arric. Castigan is a jerk and you…well you're a perfect gentleman, which is exactly why I need you both to just…shut up for the next –” she looked at her alarm clock in the corner of the room “-- ten minutes or so.”

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  Arric's face tightened for a moment, before he bowed his head slightly. Wordlessly.

  Her head hit the headboard once again with a pleasing thunk. The air in the room was stale. Probably a product of the dirty laundry, sheets, and plates scattered about the room. She’d been meaning to clean it up.

  Maybe it wouldn’t matter now.

  “Do you ever wish you'd picked up some sort of self destructive habit? Smoking? Drinking?” She didn't really say it to Arric. Nor Castigan. Nor Rose. She just…said it. To the air. To herself.

  “‘Cause I could really go for a fucking Cigarette.”

  She moved to the edge of the bed. Slowly. Painfully.

  She locked eyes with Arric. “You know what's crazy? For the first time four years, when you're here, I can't just wave you away. And for the first time in four years, I can't just choose to let you hear my thoughts.”

  She brought her right arm to her face as a wet cough ripped its way from her chest. She decided not to check for blood.

  “Is it…your body, Arric? Or Castigan's?”

  “It's –”

  “Wait, no, I want to guess. Come over here.”

  Arric walked to the side of the bed, standing directly in front of Eve.

  “You're tall. Kneel,” she said. Not a request. A command.

  He did.

  “Definitely Arric driving, at least” she mused.

  She looked at his face, his jawline was tight, like he'd never relaxed in his life. His eyes were cold and discerning.

  She reached out and touched his face, prompting a reflexive smile from them both.

  “Sorry, a little weird, but…I just…four years, Arric.”

  “Yes. Four years.”

  “And…we hardly know each other.”

  She put a hand on his chest. It was firm, muscular. Sculpted. She couldn't help but wonder if it was actually a real form or something he'd crafted as he'd escaped from her head.

  “I'm sorry for that, I think. Letting you in without letting you in. Maybe I should have let the others in a little more as well. Maybe they'd have found a way to escape if I had.”

  “Eve –”

  “Would you ever want to come back? Like – if we couldn't find a way to separate you and Castigan? Would you ever want to…join me in here again?”

  “You're scared,” he responded.

  Eve wasn't sure which of him though.

  “You're afraid that you're going to die; that your light's been finally snuffed out. You want us to pass judgement. You want to know if you're a soul worth loving. A soul worth saving.”

  She looked into his eyes. It had to be Castigan, right? He leaned in closer, she searched harder.

  “Well I say, who the fuck cares?”

  His lips met hers. They were soft. Then ravenous. Then concerned. Then wanting.

  The aching beat of her heart quickened, she could feel blood leaking from the wound at a faster pace. Rose had said the blade wanted her alive for now. Let's hope she was right.

  He reached for her face, she leaned her head back, giving him her neck instead. He slid his hand back behind it, weaving his fingers through her silver-wrought hair as he did.

  She pressed her lips harder into his, stifling a cough as she did. She worried he’d break the kiss but he only attacked harder.

  “Pull,” she spoke into his lips.

  The tightness across the back of her scalp sent a wave down her spine as he exposed her neck even further.

  She bowed her head, breaking the kiss and pushing him away at once. He pulled his hand from her hair, gently.

  “What’s wrong, Rose?”

  She burned bright red.

  “It’s nothing, just…just trying to stand up.”

  “Yep – good idea.”

  She looked back up at Arric, who had a smug look on his face.

  “You assholes.” A smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “You’re gonna kill me.”

  “Hey! Boring girl! Get down here!”

  “Shit. Arric. Castigan. Whoever the fuck – carry me.”

  Arric moved to her other side before picking her up. She rested her head on his chest. The scent of amber tickled her nose. He carried her down the stairs, skillfully navigating the wall and the railing to avoid causing her, or Rose, additional pain.

  They stepped onto the first floor where Jace stood waiting in all his gothic glory.

  “Leather pants are…a choice.” Eve said.

  “Thanks, and you look…prepared,” Jace drawled as the mess of souls reached the bottom of the stairs.

  “And you look like you just fucked my sister. Let’s go.”

  Nisha’s lips twisted into a smile, “not so fast. We’ll never get past the gargoyles with you dressed like that.”

  “That’s exactly what I was going to say, she looks like she walked out of an 80’s horror movie.”

  Nisha shot Jace an open mouthed stare. “I was talking about the glow stick planted in her chest.”

  Jace stared at Eve, then smiled, thinly. “Oh, yes. That. Of course that’s what we’re talking about. Any ideas?”

  The room was silent for a moment.

  “A really big coat?” Eve croaked, attempting to make a joke.

  “Love it. Wear it. Let’s go.” Jace turned on his heel and left the room.

  Nisha sighed. “I’ll go get a coat, I guess.”