Blaze of Memory

CHAPTER 53

Dev had never before heard a sound of such sheer agony. Holding Katya as she convulsed, as her screams turned into ragged, gasping breaths, he prayed for the first time since the day he’d watched his mother’s eyes go forever dull. “Please,” he whispered. “Please.” Asking for mercy, for deliverance.

Liquid spread over the front of his shirt, where she’d pressed her face, and he knew it was blood. But still her heart beat, still her fingers clawed. How much more would she suffer?

“Let me take it,” he pleaded to the heavens.

Agony speared through him on the heels of that wish. He held on to Katya even as his knees hit the floor hard enough to send pain rocketing up his body. Gritting his teeth, he swallowed the pain, opened himself up for more. Against him, Katya had gone quiet, and for that mercy, he’d pay any price.

It felt as if his skin was being sliced from the inside out, a thousand knives cutting him open.

Then, as abruptly as it had begun, it ended. He found himself kneeling on the floor, Katya’s unmoving body held to his own, his breath coming in jagged pants. There was blood everywhere. Some of it was his, he thought, realizing that whatever had happened had literally forced blood through his very pores, but that wasn’t important.

Because Katya was breathing.

“Katya.” He cupped her cheek. It was warm. But her eyes were closed. And when he reached for her with his mind, he found . . . almost nothing. Less than the barest echo of the vibrant woman she’d been.

Not brain-dead, but close to it.

Shoulders shaking with grief, he brought her limp body to his chest and collapsed against the wall.

Dev ignored the insistent beeping of his phone.

When it wouldn’t stop, he threw it at the wall in front of him, the throw angry enough to snap the casing in half.

Two seconds later, someone began knocking at his mind, the knocks so hard they stole his concentration, his time with Katya. Baring his teeth, he opened his psychic eye and “punched” Tag.

It should have made him retreat. Instead, the telepath shook off the hit and began to speak using their ShadowNet link. “There’s a new thread, Dev.” The mix of frustration and wonder in the other man’s tone finally got through Dev’s grief. “Are you listening? There’s a new—”

But Dev was already staring in anguish at the twisting silver thread that linked his mind to a fading star. It was so small, that star, the light within it the barest flicker. And the silver thread, it was so fragile, a single careless push might jar it loose. When his nani’s love surrounded him, he didn’t protest, didn’t do anything, too broken inside his soul.

But part of him, the Shine director part, was able to think, to process. “I thought the ShadowNet couldn’t take full-blooded Psy.”

“We can’t do it by choice—not like the PsyNet,” Nani said. “We tried that with a would-be defector back in my day.”

“But she’s here.”

“We made a critical mistake—we forgot to factor in the thing that sets this net apart from the PsyNet. Emotion, Devraj.” Her voice held wonder interwoven with sorrow. “The Forgotten’s bonds to the ShadowNet itself are of need, but the bonds between those inside our net are bonds of emotion.”

Dev heard, but that dull silver thread, that barely-there connection, couldn’t be his love for Katya. “I love her more than that.” She’d become his reason for being.

“She’s dying, beta, that’s why the thread is so faded. You know that.”

He knew, but he didn’t want to. “She wanted to die on her terms, but I can’t let her go. Not now.” Not when she’d fallen into his arms.

“I don’t think your Katya would begrudge you the time to say good-bye.”

Rising from his collapsed position on the physical plane, Dev carried Katya to the bathroom and drew her a bath. He took the utmost care with her, washing her hair until it shone, drying her body with the softest of towels. Then, dressing her in her favorite T-shirt and the boxers she’d stolen from him two days before, he laid her down in their bed. She looked so peaceful, as if she was sleeping.

Connor flew in from Manhattan later that day and hooked up a feeding tube. “Take this out when you’re ready,” the doctor said before he left. “She’ll slip away without pain.”

Leaving Connor to make his own way out, Dev crawled into bed beside her. She was so warm, her heartbeat so strong, it seemed possible she’d wake at any moment. But he knew that was a cruel lie. Still he couldn’t help hoping.

And though he wanted to keep her only to himself, when Ashaya rang two hours later, having heard what had happened through Tag, he knew he couldn’t. “Okay,” he said to her request for permission to come say good-bye.

He spent the night holding Katya, trying to find the courage to let her go.

His grandparents drove in before dawn. “My Devraj.” Walking to Katya’s side of the bed, his nani took off the ring she’d worn on her wedding finger since the day his grandfather proposed. Her withheld tears glittered diamond bright as she handed it to him. “Here.”

Accepting the gift, he slid it gently onto Katya’s ring finger. “She told me she wanted to be you when she grew up,” he found the voice to say, forcing himself to rise from the bed. “Are there messages for me?” It was a hollow question.

“Aubry and Maggie have everything in hand. Your nana and Marty will take care of what they can’t.” A tender hand passing over his hair. “This time is yours.”

Ashaya and Dorian arrived not long afterward, bringing both Keenan and his “girlfriend” Noor. “They’re inseparable,” Ashaya said to him, as if afraid he’d mind.

“It’s good to have them here,” he said, glad for the sound of laughter, of life around Katya.

Sascha Duncan had flown in, too, Lucas by her side. Dev knew the empath had come for him, to help him, but he didn’t want any help, didn’t want to hurt any less. “Cruz?” he asked Sascha.

“He’s starting to hold his shields,” the empath told him. “I think he’ll be fine.”

“Good.” Leaving Sascha, he returned to Katya, wanting to tell her about the boy who’d helped her escape.

Ashaya found him there forty minutes later. “There’s only one choice.” The M-Psy’s eyes were shimmering wet as she placed a tentative hand on his shoulder.

“I know.” And his heart broke impossibly more with every hour that passed. “I just need a little more time to say good-bye.”

Keenan and Noor ran into the room at that moment, skidding to a stop at the end of the bed. “She’s sick?” Keenan asked, his face solemn.

Ashaya put her hand on her son’s head. “Yes, sweetheart. She’s very sick.”

Little Noor went around Ashaya to pat Katya’s hair, smoothing it out on the pillow. “She’s Jon’s friend.”

“Yeah.” Dev tried to smile for the girl, but couldn’t quite make his lips move.

Ashaya picked Noor up and settled her in the curve of one arm, taking Keenan’s hand with her free one. “Come on, babies. Let’s leave Katya and Dev alone for a while.”

Barely aware of the door closing, Dev lay down on the bed alongside the woman who held his soul, his heart, his everything. Her heart still beat, her breath still came, but her mind, that beautiful, sharp, courageous mind, was damaged beyond repair. She’d never wake now, but he could keep her alive for years on machines.

A sob shook his body.

How could he do that to her? To his laughing, spirited Katya? The truth was, he couldn’t. He’d have to let her go, press a final kiss to her lips, and hope that heaven was real, that one day, he might look up, and there she’d be.