And because he loved Ginny, he would put himself between her and harm.
He’d been too green the first time to save her from falling off a cliff, but he wouldn’t fail her this time. She would be left safe, if it was his final act on this earth. There was no doubt her face would be the last image imprinted on his brain and he was glad of it. His heart would still be clamoring, begging to return to her side, but his mind would be at rest, knowing he’d removed the threat of harm from her life.
Currently, his mind was far from peaceful, however. It continued to replay a grainy horror film in which Ginny fell from the Verazzano Bridge while screaming his name and he was still back at the on-ramp, a quarter of a mile from the center of the bridge where she dropped. That fear of not being able to reach her in time would never go away, never fade, just like his love for her.
The image changed and now she toppled from a cliff, while he was none the wiser, wondering where she’d gone. Giving up his exhaustive search and mourning her while serving at the right hand of the man who had potentially killed her.
He wouldn’t be blind this time.
Not with Ginny.
Jonas forced his grip to lessen on the steering wheel, lest he rip it off.
I love you. Please forgive me for leaving.
There was a chance she wouldn’t forgive him and he’d factored that into his decision. It seemed like the only option. Do anything to keep her breathing. But now, as he approached the exit that would bring him to the High Order dwelling, a yawning pit opened in his stomach. All the progress they’d made on compromise, wiped out in one swipe of his hand across the board. Would every second of their relationship forever be soured in her memory by his highhandedness?
The exit he took was narrow and closed for repair, as it had been for decades, and he wove the vehicle through traffic cones and roadblocks, before turning left onto a road densely wooded on either side. He drove for ten minutes, muscle memory making him slow the car at the thirteenth bend and pull over. He crossed the road to pull a series of tree branches to the side, revealing an overgrown path, just large enough for a car to fit. After driving through the opening, he got back out and replaced the branches before continuing on his way. Several bumpy minutes later, he arrived at an abbreviated turnoff leading to nothing but a shoddy hut.
Jonas remained in the car staring at the decaying shack, memories rushing back of the first time he entered through its rusted door. A young man steeped in grief and confusion over the disappearance of his mate. Needing an anchor, anything to keep him from being peeled off the earth into the atmosphere.
Back then, he’d trusted his sire, the vampire within—and he wouldn’t make that mistake again.
His instinct urged him to rip down the surrounding trees, bring them down on the hut and smash it to pieces. To go below and wreak havoc on everyone who resided with the High Order. As far as he was concerned, they were all complicit in trying to hurt his love. His life.
Go back.
Go back and apologize and compromise.
If you survive this, you’ve lost her.
Jonas’s hand flew to his chest where his heart remained half-beating in protest at being apart from Ginny. He slammed a fist there to start it pumping correctly again, his body slumping in relief when it sputtered and functioned once more, if dully.
He closed his eyes and thought of her before climbing out of the car. Of the excitement on her beautiful face when someone bid on her white, silk dress. Her bravery climbing onto his lap and offering her neck while he rattled the silver chains like a beast. Her peacefulness when she slept, her voice reciting words from a movie along with Maureen O’Hara. The way her palms felt on his face, in his hair, on his shoulders.
With a miserable sound, he propelled himself from the car and approached the hut, staring up at the overhead, pinhole-sized camera until he heard the click. He opened the door and crossed to another, passing through and traveling down a set of stairs that led to steel elevator doors.
Floor after floor ticked by while he worked to keep his burning ire under control. Oddly, he felt no apprehension over seeing his sire again after so long, like he’d always imagined he would. He was no longer a misguided youth. He’d been out in the world cleaning up the havoc wreaked by malevolent leadership and every ounce of hero worship he’d once had for the king was now extinguished. All that remained was a demand for answers and the urgent motivation to keep Ginny safe.