Then there were the years they'd been together. The times they'd made love under the open sky. The promises they'd whispered, and all the impossible things they'd lived long enough to make possible. Mei had been everything good in Dahlia's life, and now she was gone. Forever. Not coming back.
Dead.
Mei! she screamed into the Abyss, but her mind couldn't force a sound.
They'd always been on the same wavelength, and now it felt like there was a hollow in Dahlia's mind. It would've been her heart, if she'd had a body. Instead, it was just an ache. A sharp, piercing one that refused to let up. It was pure agony, and without form, Dahlia simply relived Mei's last moment over and over again, blaming herself more each time.
If she'd been just a few seconds faster, had fought harder, or had talked Mei into running the night before, her lover would still be alive. If she'd just killed Thane instead of wasting time with him. If she hadn't gone for coffee... if, if, if!
They'd known inquisitors would want revenge, but they'd assumed they'd get at least a day before they could recover. She and Mei had decided to go back toward Dallas to make their break. Her mind froze with another wave of pain.
Mei was gone. Truly, completely, and totally gone!
Just a few more hours - not even a whole day - and they would have been safe. Mei would have been happy living in the mountains. It would have reminded her of home, and now she'd never see it. She'd never giggle again. She'd never fall asleep against Dahlia's shoulder. She was gone. Dead, nothing more than a memory. In a decade, Dahlia wouldn't be able to remember her face. Mei would fade, like all the others, until even her memory was gone.
Over and over, like torture, Dahlia analyzed every second, trying to find the mistake. There were so many. Minutes felt like hours, and hours felt like the blink of an eye. In between that, she replayed every second of their lives together. There was no time in the Abyss, just her thoughts, and she had too many, yet not enough. Her mind felt like it was being torn apart as it struggled to fulfill everything her body should have felt. But there was nothing. Absolutely nothing.
Heaven was little more than a dream. Hell sounded like a pleasant experience compared to the deprivation of anything she could comprehend as life. No matter how many times she returned, it never got easier. Even prisons considered extended solitary confinement to be inhumane, but this was her existence. Not only alone, but devoid of something as basic as light, because she had no eyes. She was an eidolon, nothing more than a distortion of energy that refused to merge with the world. She was undead, forever denied that simple peace because of a fluke of nature, and this was the price she paid.
At least Mei would never suffer like this again. She was gone. Death no longer meant the Abyss for her. Dahlia wondered if that last spark, the discharge of life's last energy, hurt as much as they all thought. Maybe the final death made up for all the sensations they didn't get in the Abyss. Maybe it was enough to finally satisfy the soul before it ceased to exist. Maybe she could even pretend that her lover had found a way to reach the afterlife she'd dreamed about when she'd truly lived.
In the distance - it had to be distance, because it wasn't close - something shifted. Dahlia tried to watch it, but couldn't see. It seemed like it grew brighter. It felt like petals against her mind. It reminded her of the pinkness of light through closed lids. There was a sensation, and it was gentle. More like a suggestion than a demand, and she wanted to follow the trail it left for her.
If she had a mouth, she would have smiled. She'd felt this too many times before, but had it been long enough already? Was she getting used to existence without substance? It didn't matter. She saw the light.
Straining for it with hands that were only a memory, she stretched, clawing her way out. The petals weren't enough to hold on to, and the pink wasn't a real color. Everything was dim, but she knew where this would take her. She could feel it. She could feel! Dahlia gasped, the shadow of air hitting something almost like lungs, and she tried harder. She was close. Just a bit more, and she could make it. All she needed was a hand.
Fingers ghosted through her hair as a tingle ran up the spine she didn't really have. It led her on, like a beacon. The hand moved, sliding down to her neck as moisture touched her throat. Lips. Then she felt it again, the surge through her existence that gave her form. She could almost hear it.
"Valka Sjorensdotter."
The words fell like breath on her skin, not even a voice to give it true form, yet hands pulled her against warmth. Then she found the mouth. Passionate, delirious, he kissed her. The scruff of a late-night beard was her only hint of the man holding her in his arms. He smelled so good, like salt and sharp soap. She had to taste it. The tip of her tongue flicked over his jaw, sizzling along the coarse hair, and she moaned.
His mouth found hers, claiming her, torturing her with the sensations she'd been denied in death, and Dahlia gave herself to it. Mei was gone. This was now, and she had to live before she could get their revenge.
Overwhelmed with sensations, she dared to soak it all in, her body working on autopilot. Her nails slid up his back, leaving marks along his spine as she tasted him, sucking his tongue deeper between her lips. One - they had to be one. She needed what only he had.
Like a starving woman, she devoured the rush of vitality. She pulled at his life, not caring if she killed him. Each kiss recharged her. Every caress brought her further from the Abyss. All the sensations proved that she was real.
Bare, naked, she twined her leg against his, her breasts crushed against the flat muscles of his chest, and she pulled his head closer. Their mouths collided over and over, tongues daring the other for more, and he gave it.
"Please," she begged. "I need you."
His laugh was deep, but soft. "Do you?"
"I have to get revenge."
At her words, he leaned closer and her back hit a wall. Standing. They were standing up. Cold pierced her skin, making her gasp and arch away. The man before her bent, claiming the tip of one breast, his hand finding the other. He teased, sending jolts of pleasure through her body, and she clung to him. One hand found his arm, her fingers digging into the skin, and sparks rushed back.
Dahlia's eyes flew open. Sparks. A ward!
"Thane," she breathed.
His mouth released her breast, moving ever higher. In the back of his throat he murmured assent, proving she was right. Dahlia tried to pull away, but she didn't have the strength yet. He held her until his mouth found her jaw. Only then did he lean back.
"I had to call you back."
The room was dark and empty. A single candle glowed behind him on the floor. If she had to guess, she was in some priest's barracks, which meant surrounded by more inquisitors. Her eyes flicked from side to side, taking it all in before finally turning on him. The bastard was just as lovely as she remembered - and he didn't look a day older.