I was. The person who had been inhabiting my body, from the moment I had realized what my only choice had been, was gone. That Cassiel had once again been banished to the hidden recesses where she lurked.
“That was her, wasn’t it?” he asked. “The Cassiel you used to be. The Djinn. The badass you keep telling me about.” The one who would make the choice to destroy humanity, if it was necessary.
I nodded, burying my face against his shirt. I couldn’t stop shaking. Couldn’t stem the tears. His hand stroked my hair over and over, an animal comfort and connection, and I wanted . . . oblivion. Just for a while.
“You were right,” he told me. “She’s terrifying.”
To me, as well.
The next few minutes were long ones, silent ones, filled with the sound of Turner drinking down a glass of water, refilling it, then emptying it again, as if he hoped to wash himself clean from the inside out. I wondered if I should ask for something, but I didn’t need to do so; Luis, unasked, brought me a glass and very gently encouraged me to drink.
I hadn’t realized how thirsty I was until the water touched my lips, and then I sucked it down gulp after greedy gulp, barely pausing for air until the tumbler was dry. He refilled it, then sat beside me as I drank at a slower pace, stroking my hair with restless fingers.
“It’s the power,” he said. “It takes a lot out of you, physically. And you—” He glanced down at the metal hand, lying still in my lap. “Yeah. I’m not even sure how you did what you did.”
“Which part?” I asked.
“Hell, any of it. I’ve never seen anything like that before, outside of some big-budget sci-fi movie.” He kept watching the hand with guarded fascination. “Are you sure that’s not some evil hand or something?”
“Evil?” I raised it in surprise, flexing the metal fingers. “Why would this be evil?”
“You’re kidding. I mean, it’s a metal hand.”
“My flesh hand was much worse, I think.” I touched my fingers together. The control was very good, but there was an odd clink as the metal connected.
Luis continued to stare. “Can you feel anything with that?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
I raised my eyebrows involuntarily, because it was a question that hadn’t rightly occurred to me. I ran the metal fingertips over texture—the sofa, the smooth leather of my jacket, then lightly over Luis’s skin.
All different sensations. All exactly as experience had taught me they should feel.
“The metal,” I said, surprised. “It’s a part of the living Earth. Your powers control metal, so I can interpret the sensations.”
“Does it hurt?”
“No,” I said, and put my metal palm against his warm cheek. “Does it feel odd?”
He seemed startled, raising his hand to lay it over my bronze one. Before he could answer me, my cell phone began to ring, buzzing against my skin like a trapped insect. I slid it free, flipped it open, and held it to my ear. The screen displayed nothing at all except a random pattern of light.
I put it to my ear.
“Human technology.” It was Rashid. He sounded disgusted, and a little smug. “So wasteful, yet so interesting.”
“We can’t all be you,” I said. “Did you get the child?”
“Of course. And before you ask, the man driving the car doesn’t yet know that she’s gone. I retrieved her when he stopped for a traffic signal.”
“Did he see you?”
“Of course not. To all appearances she is still locked in his trunk.” Rashid’s voice took on a slight edge. “Before you ask, yes, I am following him.”
“What about the girl? You’re sure she’s all right?”
“Did I not say—”
“Yes.” I closed my eyes and tried to focus. At Luis’s urgent gesture, I put the phone on speaker so the others could hear. “What did you do with her?”
“I am not insensitive; I didn’t just abandon her at the side of the road. I found a policeman. I handed her over safely enough.”
That eased a weight within me that was staggering once lifted. “Where are you now?”
“In the trunk of his car,” Rashid said. “I thought it would be impolite to take one thing from him and leave nothing in return.”
“No,” Turner snapped. “You need to get out of there. Just get out. If you got the girl, the job’s over. Leave it.”
“Don’t,” I said, overriding him. “Stay with him, Rashid. But understand, if he is heading toward Pearl, you must know when to let go. You can’t allow yourself to get too close. You saw what she can do.” He’d knifed the blackened evidence of it on the kitchen table.
“I saw,” he agreed. “I will be in contact.”
He broke the connection without any sort of goodbye, which was not unexpected. Turner was already dialing his own phone, and turning away to hold a fast, urgent conversation. He was back in just under five minutes, looking immensely relieved beneath his pallor and exhaustion.
“They’ve got the girl all right,” he said. “She’s in custody, heading for the hospital with an armed escort. I got a Warden to meet them at the hospital. She’ll be watched.”
“And her parents?”
“I’m heading over there now,” he said. “This kind of good news, I’d rather deliver in person.” He picked up his suit jacket, which was as rumpled as his pants and shirt, and shrugged it on, avoiding our eyes. Then he said, “You two want to come along?”
“I’m not sure. She still doesn’t look too good,” Luis said doubtfully, but I was already moving to stand up. He braced me with one hand under my left elbow, but
I felt only a touch of disorientation. The shock was, indeed, passing.
The physical pieces of it, at any rate. I couldn’t yet tell what I felt emotionally, or would feel tomorrow. It was entirely new territory for me, to have been so deeply hurt. Especially by my own choice, and my own action.
“I want to go with you,” I said. “If you’ll allow it.”
We all glanced at the burned spot on the table, the soot-blackened knife, and the white exposed bones that were all that was left of my hand. Turner shuddered.
“Yeah,” he said. “I guess you’ve got the right to do whatever you want to right now. Fine.”
Luis didn’t approve, but he only shook his head and touched my shoulder to turn me toward him. “Hey,” he said. “You need more?” More power, he meant. I hadn’t dared to check, but now I realized that I was as empty of energy within as I had been parched and thirsty.
I nodded. He sighed and took my right hand in his, facing me. “Ready?” he asked.
I held his gaze and nodded.
His energy flowed into me, a trickle that built to a steady pulse within my veins. It left my skin burning hot, and I felt the interface of metal with my arm grow colder by contrast, like a phantom limb of ice. The power coursed through me, repairing damages, and then pooled deep within. I pulled away then, sending a wordless pulse of gratitude between us, and in an unguarded moment saw the drawn look on his face, and the fierce pain in his eyes.
I was hurting him. He was weary and anguished; he had seen me do a terrible thing, and had been helpless to stop it, or to save me from the consequences. On top of that, he’d already been through a great deal. Now, I was taking from his precious reserves of strength.
But he didn’t hold back. Not at all.
I kissed him. I don’t know why; it was wrong, it was the wrong moment, the wrong place. Everything about it was irrational and terribly mistaken, except for the rush of feeling that rose inside me at the soft, and surprised, touch of his lips. At the way his body tensed and leaned toward mine. At the way his hands slipped up my arms and caressed my body.
Luis broke the kiss with a gasp and stepped away, cheeks flaming dark red. His eyes cut toward Turner, who had paused, staring, in the act of turning the knob on the front door.
“What are you looking at?” he demanded. Turner shook his head. “Then get the hell out, man, you never saw people kissing before? Go.”
Turner shut his mouth with a snap and left the house. Luis reached down to take my right hand in his left. His forehead leaned to press against mine.