“Only when the circumstances are right. Ours are, but we only have a limited time to decide.”
“Or you die.” She recalled what he’d said about surrendering his life to the Council. “Would you die, or would you commit suicide? I’m not following.”
“I would request execution.”
“Why?”
“Because, without you, my humanity will disappear and I’d become something else, something dangerous. I don’t want that to happen.”
“So you’d choose death?”
“Yes.”
And she thought samurais were dedicated. “What do you call yourselves? And don’t say Amish.”
“We are immortal.”
“Jesus Christ.”
“Language.”
She scowled. “Seriously?” She rolled her eyes. This was a perfectly appropriate time to fucking curse. “What else is different?”
His hands folded between his knees. If not for his intimidating beauty, he’d look like any other ordinary man.
“You know about Grace.”
Her heart stilled in her chest, all her fleeting secrets that openly dashed through her head suddenly open to the world, open to him. “Can you—”
“No. Grace’s gifts are special. Just like you, we all have unique strengths and weaknesses.”
“What’s your weakness?” He already outmatched her in so many ways, knowing his Achilles heel might come in handy.
“Isn’t it obvious?”
She cocked her head. “Nothing about this is obvious, Adam.”
He sat back in the chair, the side of his mouth pulling with the hint of a smile, but his eyes remained sad. “My weakness is you.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
It finally began to sink in. His survival really was dependent on her cooperation. And as the truth settled over her, the great weight of responsibility pressed into her shoulders.
She wouldn’t make any decisions until she had all the facts. “What else?”
“Speed.”
She saw that in the field. Her head shook, still unsure how such speed was humanly possible, but he wasn’t human.
“What else? Tell me all of it.”
“Our eyes. You have three photoreceptor cells in your eyes. We have more than twenty. This makes us extremely sensitive to light. We can see colors you can’t comprehend, everything from ultraviolet to infrared. We’re nocturnal and don’t require much sleep. Our immune systems are impeccable. And our diet...”
When his words cut off, she stopped massaging her temples and looked at him. “Your diet?”
His brow creased. “Are you in pain?”
“I have a headache. Not that you know what that feels like.”
“I had a headache once. When I was a boy, a workhorse kicked me in the head, split my skull open.”
She gaped at him. A blow like that would kill a child. She didn’t know how to respond. “Yeah, sort of like that.”
“Do you need water?”
“I’m guessing you don’t have aspirin.”
“No.”
She pinched the base of her neck. “It’s just a tension headache. It’ll go away. Keep going.” She slouched in the chair, massaging the base of her skull and shutting her eyes.
“Our diet...” He paused again. “Are you certain there’s nothing I can do to help?”
“I’m fine.”
“Your discomfort is distracting me. I can’t focus knowing you’re in pain.”
“Please, just—” She flinched at the touch of his fingers, her eyes popping open as he replaced her hand with his. She hadn’t heard him move. “What are you doing?”
He pulled her to him. “Let me help ease your tension. We can continue talking, but I can’t bear your discomfort.”
He pulled her to the edge of the bed, insisting she sit. She needed space, but as his fingers dug into the knots of tension tightening her shoulders and neck, she figured a short massage wouldn’t hurt.
“Wow. You’re really good at that.” No wonder he could carve such lifelike miniatures. His hands were magic. The pulsing ache in her head immediately lessened. “You were saying?”
“There’s a reason I can speak freely with you, Annalise. We don’t share these secrets easily and it is against our laws to expose differences to the outside world.”
“Will you be punished for telling me?”
“No. You and I share the one circumstance that permits us to speak openly and honestly.”
“Because I’m your cosmic cure.”
He chuckled. “Yes, my cosmic cure. Together, we share a destiny. Apart, we are lost.”
Her head lulled as his thumbs worked the notches of her spine, turning her muscles into putty. “So you’re not really sick, per se, you’re just in danger of dying.”
“My soul is sick. First it will attack my mind and then my physical needs will change.”
“How?”
“It’s complicated and I’d end it before it went that far.”
“But your people can’t really get sick, can they? I mean, if you have these incredible immune systems, you can’t catch the common cold or get cancer.”
“No.”
“What about gunshots? Fires?”
“Superficial injuries.”
“Then how do you die?”
His hands stilled. “There are ways. That knowledge is sacred.”
“But you’re allowed to tell me.”
“Why do you want to know?”
She glanced over her shoulder to look into his eyes. Her breath caught. “You don’t trust me.”
“I have no choice but to trust you.”
“But not with this. This you’re holding back.” As hypocritical as it might be, his lack of trust stung.