Our Divine has turned out to be somewhat of a disappointment, at least for now. She has been corrupted by her time spent in unclean flesh, her head turned toward corporeal pleasures. But I am steadfast in my belief that, given the right environment, she will again regain her superiority. After all, sometimes even Saviors need help. She does not like the body we have given her, despite how fitting it is for her, both terrible and beautiful at the same time. No, she favors the disgusting body of a cyborg, distracted by the temptations of the mundane. She will soon realize how mistaken she is.

—Celeste Steed, The Second Coming

I must still have been sedated, because everything was slightly fuzzy and slow, like I was trying to move through water. They’d put me in her room. In the bed that still smelled of her. I ran my fingers down the rose-gold walls and tried to remember.

The last time we’d been in this room together, I’d sat next to her, willing her to wake up, and not for the first time. Umbra’s virus had infected all of us, but it had hit Ailith the hardest, and she’d hovered between life and death, oblivious to the chaos around her. Or so we’d thought. When she’d woken, we fought because I’d let Kalbir live after killing her father. Our last words in this room had been of anger and resentment, and so many other things were left unsaid.

And now she was gone. I’d imagined life without her before, and it had hurt. But now that she was dead, there was no pain. There was nothing, just a vast, hollow space. The pain was still there, I was sure of it, lingering at the edges and waiting for its chance to pounce. When it finally did, I would be glad. I needed to feel something to honor her, even if it killed me.

The framed picture of her and her family still stood on the dresser next to the bed, and I cradled it against my chest, ignoring the sharp edges of the frame. In it, she stood with her family, all now dead. Her face was reddened from too much sun, and her smile wide and slightly crooked. She looked present, fully in her time and place. The girl in the picture was not the woman I knew, but the soft new seed before it had hardened under layers of chaff.

Most of her clothes were still here, so I pulled a few of the softer things out of the drawers and piled them on the bed. I lay on my side and wrapped my arms around her pillow, letting the sedative pull me down into it. I could pretend she was here. I shouldn’t, but just for a moment, I couldn’t deny myself.

The day she’d awoken, when I’d looked into her eyes for the first time. I’d already been in love with her for years by then.

The first time we’d kissed, the air coppery from the deer she’d killed.

The first time we’d made love, the taste of her mingled with poisoned water.

The last time, the desperation of it, as though we’d known it would be the last. That the end was coming.

The door opened.

“Enjoying yourself?” Kalbir stood in the doorway, a smirk curling her lips as she took in the jumble of sheets and t-shirts.

“Why did you put me here? Why not in my own room?” I already knew the answer. Kalbir was a formidable woman, but she did have a spiteful streak.

“I thought this would be more amusing,” she said, barely concealing her mirth.

“Go away, Kalbir.” I turned my back to her and hugged the picture frame again.

“That’s no way to talk to your best friend.” Her footsteps on the carpet were soft, like a cat’s. A feral, hungry cat with very sharp teeth.

“You’re not my friend.” Stop answering her. Just ignore her, and she’ll get bored and go away .

“I’m the closest thing you’ve got, Tor.”

I couldn’t help it. I turned back to face her. “Why are you here? Did Ethan finally get tired of you?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. He knows when he’s onto a good thing.” She grinned, running her tongue over her teeth.

“I’m sure he does.” I rolled my shoulders, cracking the bones in my neck with a savage pleasure. “Why am I still here? Why continue to drug me?” My voice grew louder as my irritation broke through. Stop. Don’t give her the satisfaction.

She was satisfied. She leaned back, triumphant. “You’re not going anywhere.”

“But I thought you wanted me to retrieve Fane? I can hardly do that here, doped up to my eyeballs,” I pointed out.

“Don’t worry, you’re serving your purpose as we speak. Now that we’ve let you be conscious enough, anyway. I’m sure he’s on his way here.”

What did that mean? By “retrieve,” I’d assumed she’d meant that I was to go after him. “Why would Fane come here? He knows Ethan is after him, and he knows what he’ll do to him. He’d never be that stupid. Or that sentimental. It’s not like we were the best of friends.” It was true. I respected Fane, admired him, even. But his interest in Ailith had made things complicated. Though looking back now, it seemed ridiculous. The jealousy that had spurred me into attacking him was gone. I just wished she’d lived to see it.

“No, you’re right, he wouldn’t be. Although, he is pretty damn sentimental for a machine.”

“Better not let Ethan hear you say that.”

“Don’t steal my thunder, Tor. What I was going to say is that he wouldn’t, but she would.”

The drugs had confused me more than I’d thought. Couldn’t make sense of what she was saying. “She? Cindra?”

Kalbir glanced at the doorway then dropped her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “I’m not supposed to tell you this… But seeing how you can’t do anything about it—and also to prove to you that I’m not the monster you think I am—you’re bait, Tor. Ailith is alive. Fane goes where Ailith goes. And we both know she’ll come for you.”