But I did.
I dug deep and peeled myself off the floor. I dried my tears and went out. At the top of my stairs, I locked the door, then turned. My gasp was lost in the rain.
There was a dead body in the empty lot.
I froze, my insides constricting, my pulse slowing to a heavy clang. Not dead, my mind registered. I could see legs, moving slightly. Under the patter of rain, I heard a low moan.
I took a step down, then another.
Casziel was slowly pulling himself to sitting. He was dressed in all black—jeans, boots, leather jacket. He glanced around with a slightly bewildered look on his face. His beautiful, handsome face that I loved more than any other. His gaze landed on me, and he smiled.
“Lucy.”
The deep tenor of his voice broke me from my stasis. I wanted to fly into his arms, the surge of joy so monumental and profound I could scarcely breathe. Or believe.
I shook my head, backing away. “No. No, this isn’t… I saw you die. I held you while you died…”
“I know,” he said gruffly. “I remember. But Lucy, I—”
“This isn’t real. It’s not real,” I cried, slipping on a stair and sitting down hard. Tears started to pour again as my body struggled with a thousand different emotions. Hope flooded me while possibilities mixed with impossibilities. A demon was toying with me. Taking my worst pain and driving a new knife into the wound.
I covered my eyes. “Leave me alone. Leave me alone!”
“Lucy…”
Casziel’s voice was agonized. I heard him climb the steps, felt him sit beside me. The scent of him—fresh rain and his own warmth—washed over me, clean and good.
“Lucy, it’s me. I’m back. Somehow. They let me come back and now I’m here.” I heard his ragged intake of breath, his voice rough with emotion. “Gods above, you are so beautiful. Look at me. Please look at me, Lucy. Look at me so I know it’s not a dream.”
I lowered my hands and opened my swollen eyes. His face was close to mine, his expression full of concern. And love. So much love.
“This is real?”
Cas nodded and started to speak, but I put my hand to his mouth, silencing him. He held still, his own eyes shining as I let my hands explore, holding his jaw, tracing his lips, his brows, the straight line of his nose. The aura of otherworldliness was gone, and he looked so very human—a freckle near his ear, a lock of damp hair falling over his forehead. Slowly, the solidity of him—the warmth of his skin under the cool rain—became undeniably real.
“Cas?” I whispered.
He nodded, tears standing out in his eyes. “Yes, beloved. It’s me.”
I finally let the truth sink in and reached for him, a ragged sob issuing from my throat. He gathered me into his arms, and we sat on the stairs in the rain, holding each other, his tears in my hair, my face pressed tight to his neck. We held each other softly, tentatively, then harder. He squeezed the sobs from me, and I clung to him, letting them pour out.
“What happened?” I asked eventually, pulling away to hold his face in my hands. “How are you here?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know. It’s kind of hazy. I was somewhere else, surrounded by white light. And I knew…” His voice choked. “I knew that light was forgiveness. And then I was here.”
He’s here.
“I can’t believe it,” I said, tears flooding my eyes all over again. “How much do you remember?”
“I remember us. And fighting Ashtaroth.” He shook his head, his gaze distant. “I remember what I was. Something…not human. And I remember everything that happened while I was here but not the in-between.” He nodded at the lot below. “Or what happened after I died down there.”
“You don’t remember the Other Side?”
His brows came together. “I used to know what that meant, didn’t I? Not anymore. I don’t think I’m supposed to remember. It’s like a dream. I came awake in your backyard, and I think that’s all I’m supposed to know for certain. That I’ve been given a second chance. And that it wasn’t love that condemned me. I loved you, but I hated myself for letting you die. That hate made me what I was.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” I whispered, cupping his cheek. “It was never your fault.”
“I finally understood that when I was dying in your arms. I heard you, Lucy. You said you were grateful, and I realized I was too.” His voice cracked, and he looked away. “And that I…”