“No one. Nothing. I don’t know if I’m the end of something or the beginning. Let’s pretend it’s the beginning. You can name me, like a baby.”
She looks at her hands and takes a breath.
“Take the cure. Your friends wouldn’t want you like this. I don’t want you like this.”
“Stark is dead. He’s gone. Maybe you should do the same. Go away and don’t come back.”
She loses it and starts bawling.
“I don’t want Stark to be gone. Doc is gone and I don’t want you to be gone, too.”
“He’s dead. You don’t get a vote on dead.”
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
I get up.
“You should go now.”
She stands, but doesn’t move.
“I know you’re not Stark anymore and none of this means anything to you, but can you please just hold me for a minute before I go?”
This is why angels find it so easy to kill you people.
“All right.”
Candy grabs me hard like she’s fallen overboard and is holding on to the side of a boat to keep from drowning.>The end slips between her ribs and into her heart. Another flick and the na’at retracts. Koralin falls to the floor grunting like an animal in shock and pain. Her milk-pale skin crawls with patches of red. Her lips fade from deep blue to bright crimson as she draws her first choked and agonized breath since birth.
“Did you know that the cure for a zombie bite is a Savant’s blood? I learned that when Johnny Thunders gave me some of his. I used some to help out Brigitte and I put the rest on the na’at. Johnny must have been right because it looks to me like you’re breathing again. How does it feel to be alive after all these years? Just another pathetic mortal lowlife. Weird, I bet. Don’t worry. You won’t feel it for long.”
I pick up the Druj from where she dropped it, pull Candy from the sofa, and hand her Kasabian.
The Drifters crowd around Koralin. They move in slowly, a little uncertain of who or what she is. She was one of them a moment ago, but she must be starting to smell human. I wonder what her body temperature has to be before they know she’s food.
“If you want to go, you can go,” I tell Jan.
He stands there.
“I can’t leave her to this.”
“I’m giving you a break because of Eleanor.”
“Please.”
“No.”
He grabs the athame from the table and throws it. He’s good, too. He’s handled a knife before.
I duck it, but Candy is looking at Koralin, so she doesn’t see it coming. The knife hits her arm and goes in to the hilt. She drops Kasabian and I flick out the na’at, hitting Jan in the chest. It knocks him back onto the sofa and in a few seconds he’s staring through watery eyes filled with the shock and deep-down horror of being alive. A moment later he starts to breathe. As his lungs begin filling with air he reaches for my gun, but his body is still in shock and he’s too clumsy to reach it. I pick it up and put it in his hand. I help him steady it under his chin so he’ll get it right when he pulls the trigger. The sound of a gun going off inside hurts my ears and the back of Jan’s head explodes out in a red spray. The Drifters not heading for Koralin make a beeline for the gore. I take the gun back and put it in my jacket.
I tuck Kasabian under my arm, put my arm around Candy, and help her to the door.
“What about the boy?” she asks.
“He wants to be part of the family. Let him.”
We’re out in the hall when the screaming starts. I close the door and smash the grandfather clock to pieces, sealing the room. I grab Candy and Kasabian and step through a shadow and back to the old apartment.