Even if suffering was the only reason for her survival.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
In the subterranean healing place’s cafeteria, Rahvyn walked with her tray through a maze of empty tables and chairs as Nate got to his feet. He seemed taller than she remembered somehow, although maybe that was just because they were truly alone for the first time. Previously, there had always been others around, at Luchas House, at the club of Dandelion, here in this facility.
“I’m glad you came to eat,” he said as he pulled out the chair across from where he sat.
“I just woke up.”
“Me, too.”
As she lowered herself, he helped her move the chair in, even though such action would not have been a hard thing for her to do. And then he was across from her and she was peeling her orange and he was picking up a half-eaten sandwich.
They ate in silence for a while, and it was the kind of silence that seemed to permeate everything. Here at the far-back of the eating area, with those doors shut and nobody else getting or making food, they were insulated not only from immediate noise, but from the sounds of the larger enterprise.
“You have questions,” she said eventually.
“Well, yeah.”
“I am not surprised. It is a lot to comprehend—”
“I’m always waiting for you to leave,” he blurted. And then he clapped his mouth shut as if he’d surprised himself by speaking thus.
“I am sorry.” And in those words, was she not apologizing for so much more than his worry? “Truly.”
“You know, I come to Luchas House and I always expect you to be gone.” He wiped his mouth with a paper napkin. “And I mean, that’s your right. Totally. Except I feel like we’re… friends. So I don’t want you to go, and if you do, I want a chance to say goodbye to you.”
She went quiet for a bit. Then whispered, “I am not sure how to respond.”
He shrugged and finished his bread and meats. “At least you’re not lying to me and saying you’re staying. But where are you going? And when?”
“That I do not know.”
Nate stared into his empty plate, and she wondered what exactly he was seeing in the plain white china. “Do you have to go?”
“When one does not belong, one is always leaving even whilst staying put.”
“You could belong, though.” His eyes flashed up to hers. “There are people who care about you, who support you. Who want you to stay.”
Ah, but she had been exposed, hadn’t she. With what she had done to him, she had tipped her hand in ways that were going to complicate things. The Black Dagger Brotherhood and their fighting comrades were devoted unto the survival of the species, and though they were males of worth, her power was something they would want in their hands. And beyond them, there were always others who would seek to capture and control her and the magic she possessed.
“Nate, I am always going to be grateful for your friendship—”
He held up his forefinger to stop her. “You know, when I said I’d like to say goodbye, I was kind of hoping it wouldn’t be today.”
She thought back to the Old Country and being hunted by that aristocrat. “My presence is not always welcome.”
“How can you say that? You’re super nice. And you’re… well, really nice.”
His expression tightened as if he wished he had chosen other words. She wanted to tell him it was fine, it was all okay. If there was awkwardness, it was on her side of the table.
“Rahvyn, I don’t want to put anything on you, but I really hope you hang here a little longer because I don’t understand what I am now. And I kind of feel I might learn best from you what this all means.” He put up his hand. “Not that I’m not grateful. I just—so here’s a question… if I jump in front of a speeding train, I don’t die? Is that what this is? If I get shot in the head, do I walk around bleeding for the rest of eternity or do I heal? Do I age? What if I turn into a rotting old guy, you know? I mean, what… happens to me?”
Rahvyn could only shake her head. “You will be as you are now, no matter what is done to you, no matter the passage of time.”
He fidgeted in his chair, as if the enormity of it all was occurring to him and the stress was nearly too much to contain. Thus he shifted the conversation—and she could not blame him. “I talked to Shuli, by the way. He FaceTimed me.”
“He heard then you were hurt, yes.”
“Yeah. He was… I don’t know, maybe he was just drunk still, but he was really emotional.” Nate shrugged. “I was kind of amazed. He’s totally about himself most of the time, you know?”