Page 63

Oh, boy, Gideon was trashed. Usually, she’d be amused. Instead, she just felt…sad. “Yup.” She straightened and gazed down at the man who looked as though his entire world had ended. Perhaps it had. “This had to happen. We couldn’t go on like that.”

“I know.”

“My father. Why did you do it?”

“Murder him? You know why.”

“No. Turn him into that—that thing that the Vatican kept.”

The fingers of his hand on the armrest of the chair curled in, creaking against the leather, as he made a fist. “Every stone I own, you wish to overturn.” He shook his head and let out a wavering sigh. “I was…furious that he told you the truth. I wished to ensure that you could never raise him again to cause more problems.”

“Ah. So, because you’re a murderous piece of shit, you condemned him to existing, trapped in gold, in the darkness of the Vatican vault, for the rest of time?”

“That sums it up nicely.”

She wanted to smack him. But it wouldn’t do any good—he was broken enough already. He wouldn’t even look at her. Dr. Gideon Raithe. Murderous lich. Selfish and compassionate. Kind and cruel. And he did it all for love of her.

It was too much. It was all too much at once. “When I smashed him, I tapped into my magic to free him. That’s why it worked.”

“Yes.”

“And you didn’t tell me.”

“You weren’t—”

“I swear to fuck, if you tell me I wasn’t ready I’m going to break that bottle over your head.”

He swallowed his words, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and began again. “I wanted to keep the truth from you as long as I could. Because I knew once you knew, this would be the outcome.”

“Your options were this, or death.”

“Now that I experience this choice”—he took a gulp of scotch from his glass—“I am not sure which I prefer.”

She laughed. She couldn’t help it. He just sounded so dejected. “Melodramatic asshole.”

“Guilty as charged.” He finally looked up to her, his silver eyes ringed in red. “On all accounts.”

God damn it, why was that a kick to the gut? Why did she feel guilty for leaving him like this? She had no reason to, after all he had done. But she supposed, balanced on the scales with all the terrible things he had done…were all the memories she had of when they were together.

The laughter. The tender moments. Him.

I loved you not in spite of your darkness, but because of it.

But she had to deal with that on her own. She had to deal with everything on her own.

Reaching out, she put her hand on his shoulder. She knew she shouldn’t. She should be punching him. Hitting him. Cursing him to the pits. But for all the damage he had done, she remembered him holding her while she cried. She remembered all the times he protected her. Cared for her. Made her smile when it seemed she never would again.

She remembered all his love for her. And, stupid as it was, foolish as it was, all her love for him. “I need time to sort this out.”

He placed his hand over hers and squeezed it gently. “Go, Marguerite. Be who it was you were meant to be without my meddling. I will always be here.”

And he would be. He’d sit there in that chair for the rest of time if she told him she would love him for it.

He shut his eyes, tears rolling down his cheeks. “Goodbye, Marguerite…send the priests my regards.”

“Yeah. I guess I should deal with them.” She let out a breath. “Great. That’ll be fun.” Heading to the door, she paused and looked back at him. “Goodbye, Gideon.”

He didn’t respond.