The Afterlife (Siren Suicides, Book 3)

Chapter 16. Nisqually River

My wail dies, kicked out of me by Canosa's impending presence. For a few moments I'm disoriented, not fully understanding where I am and how I got here, held fast in the flow of the melody that I managed to produce with my pain. I blink, tearing myself out of my choral daze, and glance down.

Hunter.

He's injured. He died, didn't he? An otherworldly melody, piercing in its beauty, touches my every nerve and sends me into bliss. I have revived him, after all. His soul is back to its splendor of homey sounds, the comfort of shuffling slippers on a parquet floor, the banging of pots in the kitchen, a late summer wind filled with bird whistles, and laughter. Hearty laughter. I want to give in to it, to bask in it as if it was the sun, and soak up its warmth. But I can't, not after what just happened. I won't. I must make him hate me, and then I need to disappear from his life; this time, for good.

Involuntarily, I let out a cry of dismay.

"Can we do without screaming, please?" Hunter croaks, as if he was awake for a while. "I thought paradise was supposed to be a quiet place, a place without headaches. Man, I'm thirsty."

My thoughts about Canosa vanish in an instant.

"You didn't die." I kneel over him, a surge of happiness making me tremble.

"Thanks for letting me know. I was just wondering about that." His lips part into a grimace of pain across his bloody face. The dusk of the pre-evening sky matches the lavender blue of his eyes.

I gasp, at once exhilarated and miserable, because all of this is so absurd, so unreal, and so ridiculous that, at times, I'm having a hard time believing it's actually happening. Then I promptly remember my goal of leaving him and suppress my normal questions, like how does he feel, where does it hurt, does it hurt really bad, can he move, and so on. I make myself think of the worst possible thing I could tell him right now.

I hate you. You were supposed to die. Now look at you, you're a cripple. You're a burden to me. You're...You're...

A myriad of pathetically immature and condescending phrases circle in my head, and I'm astounded at my own idiocy, at my primitive logic. Why do I always resort to this kind of thinking, lashing out like I'm a five-year-old little girl who is upset, so she stomps her foot like a spoiled brat?

"Hunter. I need to tell you something important. I'm sorry that I don't have a properly prepared speech for this. I didn't think we'd live. But if I don't say it now, I won't have the courage to try to say it again." I pause.

He closes his eyes and groans. I can't tell if he's listening or not, if he's ignoring me on purpose or simply because everything hurts in his body; but now that I started saying it out loud, I'm unable to stop.

I swallow hard, deciding to stop hiding behind double-meanings and childish mood swings. "I'm leaving. And...I don't want you to love me anymore," I say quietly. I hold myself in place and keep my mouth shut, afraid I'll come unglued.

He props himself up on his right elbow and winces, but doesn't cry out. "What? Sorry, I missed it. What did you say?"

I raise my eyes at him, unable to repeat the "I'm leaving" part, and burst into, "Are you hurt? How are you feeling?" Then I promptly bite my tongue. I can't display any kind of affection toward him right now.

I hug myself, to stop the urge to reach out. Everything inside me trembles, waiting for that characteristic click, that sound that will indicate that he has fallen in love with me all over again, the crackle of his soul catching on fire. I must be looking horrible, because I fail to hear it.

He just looks at me blankly.

"Did you seriously just ask me how I'm feeling?" He's shaking, visibly annoyed. "How would you feel if you were me? Huh? Do you really have no idea? That's just great." He shakes his head. "All right, I'll tell you. I'm feeling fine, thank you very much, considering I just fell more than five hundred fucking feet off this cliff, almost smashed to pieces, and am probably crippled now. Thanks to my siren girlfriend who decided to save me. Did I ask you to? Nope. So then, why in the fuck are you the one crying? I'm the one who has every right to come apart." He's glaring at me, his bloodied face angry with fire.