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“Did you, you know, use your mind magic on the hotel?” I ask, as he pours antiseptic out on a cotton pad. I wince in anticipation of the sting.

“Actually, no,” he says, “we have to pay for it. And the room now. Guess it doesn’t work over the phone.” He presses the pad down on my arm. Fuck it hurts. I suck in my breath. “Sorry,” he says softly. “You’re being brave.”

“Oh, now I’m brave?”

The corner of his mouth curls warmly. “Bravest woman I know.” He gently bites his lower lip, a graveness coming over his face. “Ada, I don’t think I can properly express how grateful I am for all that you’ve done for me.”

I blush, looking away. “Don’t get all mushy on me now.”

“I’m not…getting mushy,” he says, dabbing the antiseptic further up my arm. Ow, ow, ow. “I’m just letting you know. You pulled me out again. You didn’t give up on me.”

“That wasn’t me, Max,” I tell him, as he gazes up at me with soft eyes. “You did that. You came back on your own. Because you chose to. Because you wanted to. All I did was call your name.”

“That’s not all you did,” he says, voice a hush. “You told me you loved me.”

I swallow the lump in my throat, my emotions rearing their ugly head. “Because I do love you.”

From the expression on his face, I’m not sure he believes me. “You weren’t just saying that?”

I shake my head, placing my hands on his face, smoothing his hair away from his forehead until his eyes fall closed. “I love you. I really do. I think maybe you’re my destiny.”

A grin slowly spreads across his face and he looks at me, in me, like he sees every single part. And if he can, he’d see there’s no darkness here, only light. Light for him, light for my life, light for everything.

“Sweetheart, I am so in love with you,” he says, and then kisses me, lips tender and warm and soft and I can feel his love radiating outward. He pulls back. “But that destiny shit is pretty cheesy.”

I gasp, indignant. “Excuse me?! Remember when I pulled you out of the Veil. You told me I was your destiny. You’re the master of cheese.”

“Master of cheese?” he says, brows raised, and then he presses the pad down on my skin with extra vengeance. “Another nickname, huh?”

I cry out softly. “Don’t be a dick.”

He grins. “Can’t help it sometimes.”

Then he finishes up the job before wrapping my legs and arms with bandages.

“There,” he says. “Should help for now. You sure you’re in no pain?”

I shake my head. “Never felt better.”

It’s totally the drugs.

He sits down next to me and I’m immediately crawling over his lap, straddling him, grabbing his shoulders.

He places his hands at my waist, almost spanning the entire circumference, and lifts me up a little to relieve the pressure. “Your knees,” he reminds me.

“Like I said, I feel no pain.”

He lowers me again, and now I’m right on his dick, feeling the severity of his hard-on through his boxer briefs.

I grind a little on him, making his gaze sharp, his breath hitch.

“So, what do we do now?” I ask him.

“Right this second? Are you seriously asking?” His expression is slowly turning carnal.

“I mean after we fuck,” I tell him, grinning. “What do we do? Fly home?”

I grind on him a little more, making his lips part.

“I don’t know, you’re making it hard to think,” he says, his hands gently running up my back. “I still don’t have any ID, and despite what you saw in Vieux Carre, I don’t think I can mind mangle an airline crew.”

“So we’re renting a car?”

“I’ll buy one. I have one in mind.”

“Now I know when you say that, you’re being literal.” I pause. “But what about the demons?”

“What about them?”

“What if they follow us?”

“Well, Michelle, as you call her, is gone, thanks to you.”

“Yeah, but she came from Hell to get you. Don’t you think others will too?”

He presses his lips together, frowns. “They might. We’ll be ready.”

“Yeah, but…” I don’t know how to say this delicately. “What if you’re not ready?”

He gets what I mean. Offers me a faint smile.

“I’m okay, Ada.”

I put my fingers at his chin, searching his face. “You know what I saw inside you, don’t you? What you were trying to hide from me. That void. That darkness. That emptiness. That’s depression, Max.”

“I know,” he says quietly, averting his eyes.

“You just…gave up. And you knew you would. You knew it would end that way.”

He gives a small nod, looking ashamed. “I know. But I came back.”

“Because you were lucky enough to have a second chance on a second chance.” I take in a deep breath. “Listen, I can’t tell you how to live your life, and I know we’ve had different experiences. You’ve probably experienced everything under the sun, and then some, save for animal style french fries from In-N-Out. But, I think you should seriously think about talking to someone about this. Maybe go on medication. Having that emptiness in your soul isn’t good. And it puts a lot of pressure on me to fill it.”