Part 23 (1/2)
”I'm not,” she said. ”I mean, I'm sorry you were hurt, but I'm not sorry that we're here now.”
”Does that mean I'm forgiven?”
”I don't know. We can't just flip a switch and have everything back the way it was, but . . . I moved my things back in here this morning. I want to be with you, for better or for worse.”
He started to say something but heard his phone ring, and Miranda twisted backward to pick it up off the nightstand. She saw who it was and paused for a minute before biting her lip and handing it to him.
”Go on,” she said. ”I'm sure he's been worried about you.”
David shut his eyes, not wanting to deal with this right now when everything felt so good, but he hit talk anyway. ”h.e.l.lo?”
The anxiety in Deven's voice made him sound young. ”Are you all right?”
”I'll live.”
”G.o.d, David, I . . . I'm so sorry. Jonathan knew something was going to happen, but he didn't know when or where. I should have called you anyway, just so you'd be on your guard.”
David sighed. ”It wasn't your fault.”
Deven took a deep breath. ”I can't stay on. I just wanted to hear your voice-Jonathan's been saying you would be fine, but I had to hear it for myself.”
”Really, Deven, I'm all right. I'm weak, and I feel like I could drink an entire volleyball team, but I'm all right.”
”Let me know when you figure out what that s.h.i.+t was.”
”Okay. Good-bye.”
David didn't wait for a farewell; talking took too much effort. He handed the phone back to Miranda. ”Put that thing on silent,” he said.
She arched an eyebrow at him. ”Did you really just say that? Maybe that stuff did eat your brain.”
”I just want an hour of peace.”
With a smile, she turned off the ringer and put the phone back on the nightstand, then returned her attention to him. ”Let me get you some blood,” she said. ”I had a fresh batch brought in-you haven't fed since the intern at the clinic. Don't worry,” she added, knowing how he'd feel about feeding on his employees, ”I asked for volunteers and offered a hefty bonus in return. The boy was happy to help, and it was much easier than going out and finding someone.”
”Wait,” he said as she started to get up. ”Stay here for a moment.”
She met his eyes, then nodded and lay back down, scooting closer and, after a second's hesitation, putting her arm around him.
Being free of poison had been nothing compared to the relief of that touch.
She burrowed her face into his shoulder, and he inhaled the scent of her hair; they settled in together as they had a hundred times before, and he felt her sigh against his skin.
”I deserved this,” he said. ”That's all I could think while I was lying there . . . for what I did to you, and what I did to that horrible old man . . .”
”Oh, David,” she sighed. ”You can't torture yourself . . . sorry . . . for what you have to do as Prime. I don't like it . . . and I know you don't either . . . but think of what will happen if this a.s.sa.s.sin succeeds and we die. There will be anarchy in the South and a lot of people will be killed. You told me yourself, a long time ago, that sometimes being Prime means doing what no one else should have to . . . that you can't always afford the moral high road.”
He looked at her face. ”You didn't always feel that way.”
She smiled sadly. ”You didn't always get this upset over these things.” She ran her hand back through his hair and added, ”I think we've changed each other, you and I.”
”I know you've changed me.”
Miranda was silent for a moment, but then said simply, ”I missed you.”
”I missed you, too.”
”I don't know if . . .” She trailed off, searching for words, but he intuited her meaning.
”I understand,” he replied. ”I've never asked you for anything you weren't ready to give.”
”I know.” She smiled again. ”That's one of the things I love about you . . . you philandering b.a.s.t.a.r.d.”
He couldn't help but laugh, and she laughed a little, too, hugging him, and then kissing his neck. It was the first time she'd kissed him in three weeks.
”I just wish you hadn't f.u.c.ked up so badly, so I could go on thinking you were the perfect man,” she added, sighing again.
He snorted softly. ”I could tell you a thousand stories that prove I'm anything but perfect.”
”Truthfully, I already knew you weren't. You listen to rap.”
”I listen to everything.” He grinned. ”Miss 'three songs by Britney Spears on my iPod that I don't think anyone knows about-' ”
”Hey, no snooping!”
”I didn't. That night I came home and you were singing in the shower with the stereo going, I looked at the playlist because I couldn't believe what I was hearing.”
”If you have such exalted taste, how did you know it was Britney?”
They were both laughing, and it felt so incredibly good, but it was tiring, and he quieted out of necessity. ”I love you,” he said.
She took a deep breath. ”I love you, too.”
He could feel that she meant it. He had never been in danger of losing her love, only her faith in him. He couldn't say how or when he would earn it back, but he would. He would find a way. They were a Pair. So much in the world was uncertain . . . but that much, he knew with every bone in his body now, was unbreakable. Somehow he would restore her trust and they would find a way to live with what he'd done . . . for her sake, so she could have the happiness she deserved.
”Go to sleep,” she whispered to him.
He closed his eyes. ”Sing to me.”
He could hear her smiling. ”All right.”
And, as she sang softly into his ear, and he began to drift off into sleep, he couldn't help but think that being poisoned might be the best thing that had ever happened to him.
You're in my blood like holy wine
You taste so bitter and so sweet...