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Booker looked up from the pages of his book, realization breaking through the words he was reading. Nile wasn’t in the room. Booker paused, knowing that was a meaningful observation. It was also important to note that he hadn’t seen her for the duration of morning and afternoon, including being absent for both meals.
While he wouldn’t necessarily call her extroverted, one thing they all knew about Nile was that she loved to be around the others. He’d realized it within their time at this safe house. When Nicky cooked, she sat on the counter and watched or helped with food prep or baked something to go along with it. When Joe drew or wrote, she would hunker down into his side and listen to her music or nap. Quynh had discovered netflix and was making her way through an exorbitant amount of shows and Nile frequented the binge watching. Andy was constantly training Nile, using the time they had in hiding to continue to hone her skills. The point being, she was always willing to be with others.
When she wasn’t, it usually suggested she was upset, distraught, or some other mood that inclined her to withdraw. It was easy to miss when she was struggling because she was one of the most stalwart people he’d ever met. Their first night in Flam, Norway in this safe house, he’d been reminded that they were the two youngest of the immortals and he had felt like it had united them somehow. While he’d promised Andy to watch out for Nile, it was that first night that he’d taken it upon himself to make sure the troubles of being newly immortal didn’t destroy her as it did him. He’d decided that she deserved someone to watch her back since she seemed to always be doing that for others. So, he watched for the moments her joy was dimmed by the grief she tried to hide, the times where she wasn’t in the room because she was so overwhelmed by it, she retreated.
He would never describe her as being unable to be alone at times or had some dependency upon people, merely that she loved those around her and shared in that with her company. An hour or two without Nile was a normal occurrence; nothing to be alarmed about. But when he hadn’t seen her for half the day, he knew it meant something.
He got up from the chair in the library and made his way through the house, searching. Joe was propped up in a chair in the kitchen, reading aloud as he kept Nicky company while he cooked. They both looked up in question when he stuck his head into the room, but he only nodded and continued on. In the small family room, Quynh was once again netflixing, a serial killer series that Booker questioned as healthy for her to be consuming. Andy’s head was in Quynh’s lap, napping. Nile was nowhere to be seen.
He tried the room she slept in and checked if the bathroom was occupied. Each place was Nile-less. It was safe to assume she wasn’t outside, since a heavy falling of snow was currently floating its way down to earth. It being November, the cold snows of winter were settling in thick and heavy. With few places left to check, he finally found her in the small sun room nestled in the far portion of the house. It had a deep window seat that boasted many cozy looking blankets and pillows. Among them, he saw Nile nestled as she stared out of the big bay window, watching the snow fall with melancholy.
He didn’t enter, turning instead to head back to the kitchen with purpose. He ignored Nicky and Joe’s questioning looks once again and pulled down a pot and ingredients from the cupboard. None of the men said anything, the tension of his betrayal and sudden reappearance in the family still holding sway between them. But he was on a mission so he didn’t focus on it.
He dumped milk, cocoa powder, cinnamon, chili powder and other ingredients into a pot and began warming it over the stove next to the hearty soup Nicky was working on. Once it was hot, he transferred the contents into two mugs, placing the used pot in the sink to soak. Grabbing the mugs, he carried them carefully back to the sun room.
He paused in the doorway to look her over. She looked comfortable in an oversized red sweater and black leggings, and he absently suspected the sweater might be Joe or Nicky’s. They were always trying to keep her warm since they’d found she ran cold. Large knitted tan socks covered her feet and the extra material bunched up at her ankles. Joe had been learning how to do her hair and the most recent endeavor had been braids to her waist that were occasionally dotted with gold beads, and she’d woven the braids into one large, thick braid that hung over her shoulder.
He wondered how she could seem to be so contradictory and so very Nile. She looked young, only twenty-seven when she’d first died, but the way she carried herself and the weight of her mood lent her a mature air. She looked feminine and sweet, curled between the blankets, which in no way negated the knowledge that she was a badass, strong former marine that could probably kick his ass all the way back to Paris.
Strains of music played on her phone near her, something mellow but current. He knocked lightly on the door with his foot and approached to offer her the cup. When she gave him a smile, he figured he was welcome and took a seat on the opposite side of the bench, back supported by the wall. Nile took a sip and then licked her lips in enjoyment.
“Wow, Booker. That tastes amazing.”
“You are surprised I actually have skills in the kitchen?” He grinned, blue eyes sparking as he tried to draw her out of herself a bit.
“I’m surprised you actually have good tastes after decades of alcohol,” she retorted and then winced, realizing what she said could have been hurtful. She was normally such a careful person in regards to others feelings. “Sorry.”
Booker shook his head, taking no offense. “Nothing to be sorry for, Petit. Besides, the joys of immortality mean I keep my taste buds.” His comment only earned him a weak lift of her mouth, obviously her attempt to reward him for his good-natured humor despite her low mood.
He sighed and took another drink. “What is wrong, cherie?”
“What makes you think something is wrong?” She asked wryly.
“You hide away when you are hurting. I haven’t seen you all day.”
Nile sighed and traced the rim of her cup with a finger absently. She stared out the window at the blanket of snow, her brown eyes far away.
“The holidays are coming. And I miss my mama. And my brother.” She said softly. Her chin trembled a little and her eyes shimmered. “We didn’t have much, but mama always tried to make the holidays good for us. She’d save change to buy a pumpkin or two and we’d almost lose fingers carving into them. We’d set them out on our doorstep and sprinkle the insides with cinnamon and put candles in them. We didn’t have much family to see for thanksgiving, my mama’s family having disowned her and my father being an orphan and in foster care until he aged out. We’d just buy the pre-made thanksgiving meals from the grocery stores. But she would always make a sweet potato pie from scratch.”
Booker smiled at the memories she shared. “What about Christmas?” he encouraged.
Nile smiled softly. “We’d have a contest every year to see who could create the most obnoxious and over the top Christmas card out of the three of us. It always look like a craft store took a shit in our dining room after we were done but it was so much fun. We didn’t have a tree, which I always begged for every year even though we couldn’t afford one. So my mother would give us expo markers to draw Christmas trees in the windows. My favorite part was staying up late watching Christmas movies while we gorged on popcorn and hot chocolate.” She cheered her mug at him and he drained his in response.
Booker grinned. “I would buy my sons oranges and candies to stuff in their socks. They went wild over them because my wife rarely let them have sweets.”
“You probably drove her crazy doing that.”
“Our three boys would be crawling the walls and my wife would threaten to leave the house for hours just so I had to deal with them. But then I’d catch her smiling behind her hand. I would make their toys you know? I would carve and sand and paint for weeks leading up to the day. My sons would make a game of trying to find out where I hid the projects.”
They both fell silent, lost in the memories of their families, and Booker noticed something. He felt the pain of speaking about it, of recalling it, but it was lighter this time. Maybe that was the way it was supposed to be with grief. You can do it alone at times, but maybe it was a little easier when you shared it.
“If anyone might understand how you are feeling, I may,” he finally said quietly.
Nile nodded, looking at her drink. “I love everyone here. But they each have someone, you know? I don’t begrudge them that, but it can be hard. Andy has Quynh. Joe and Nicky have each other.”
“You have me,” Booker added. “We’re friends, Nile. So when you feel like that, come find me.”
“Thank you,” she answered meaningfully. “Having this family has gotten me through everyday thus far. But having someone to understand me on the bad days means so much. It’s horrible that you lost your family and I’d never wish that on you.” Her voice fell to a small, hesitant hush. “Is it wrong of me to be glad someone understands?”
“It’s not, ma cherie. If anything, it’s a comfort to know that my loss will have something good come of it.” His heart ached at how small Nile looked, curled up and miserable, so he opened his arms in invitation and patted the area between him and the window. Her face lit up and she dragged her pile of blankets over to him while managing not to spill her drink. She plopped down next to him and snuggled under his arm, spreading the blankets over them both. More contradiction. A badass Marine who loved to cuddle with any of the family that would let her. He rested his head against where hers was propped on his shoulder.
“I admire your strength and courage, Nile. You are stronger than me. If someone can get through this, it’s you.” Guilt colored his tone, recalling how he’d handled his own grief.
Nile pulled far enough away to look at him in the eyes, and he saw steel under the velvet. “If I’m the one that’s gonna get through this, Sebastian Le Livre, then I’m gonna drag you with me. You’ve got no choice.”
He gave her a sad smile. “It might be too late for me, Petit. I’m too…I’m too bitter. Too jaded. I’m angry. I’m lost… I’m-” He tried all the words, trying to see which fit the best and he caught sight of his mug. “I’m empty. Too empty.” That was the word. Hollowed out. Used up.
Nile lifted her mug and dumped some of her drink into his cup. He jerked in surprise.
“Not empty. Not with us around. Not with me around. And it’s never too late.”
Booker huffed in amusement. He’d come in to make her feel better and she still managed to help him do the same. Wrapping her back up into his side, they sat and watched the snowfall in companionable silence.
- - -
It was only a day later that the house was attacked. They were all crowded around the dining room table, elbows brushing as they ate Nicky’s leftover soup with bread and butter.
Later, they would lament the complacency they’d fallen into over the last weeks. Later, they’d regret not having guns in their waistbands or on the table near them the entire time. Later, they’d regret ceasing watch rotations after the second week. Later, they’d realize how much they’d just wanted to be together and safe and happy without threats looming over them.
The house’s front door slammed open, startling them all. A stun grenade went off, sending them reeling with the decibels loud boom and a blinding flash. Ears ringing, eyes blinded, equilibrium impaired, they scrambled to right themselves enough to meet the threat. And then they were on them. Multiple men in tac gear tackled them to the kitchen floor, looking like an American football dog pile.
Nile head butted the assailant grappling her from behind, hearing his nose crunch in satisfaction before a KA-bar slit her throat and she dropped. Booker vengefully kicked the man with the knife in return and earned a bullet to the chest for his troubles. When both of them woke, it was to Quynh crouched over Andy’s still unconscious form, the bread knife flashing as she threatened anyone who came near them. She had taken a shot to the low ribs, but seemed to still be conscious. They managed to pin her enough to wrench the knife away and dig a hard knee into her back. Joe and Nicky were looking worse for wear, cuts and bullet holes testifying how they’d resisted as well, only to be put down. Andy groaned as she was roughly shaken back to consciousness.
Their wrists were zip tied behind them, along with their ankles, and placed in a line, kneeling like prisoners awaiting execution. None of the men looked surprised to see them still alive after taking bullets to very crucial places, so it was safe to assume they knew of their immortality.
One of the men spoke into a neck piece and a commotion drew their attention to the front door. And in walked Dr. Meta Kozak. And that’s when their adrenaline and fight turned to dread. Now they knew what was wanted of them. Booker visibly paled and Joe let out a growl from between clenched teeth. Nicky sidled closer to his husband. Four of them had endured the horrors of that lab, things Nile knew they still had nightmares about.
The blonde doctor was dressed in winter garb similar to the mercenaries, but without the kevlar pieces and weaponry. She gave them all a triumphant grin as she surveyed them. “I see you remember me. Of course, we did have some memorable times together. Very hard to forget.”
“Copley said you were dead,” Andy gritted out, green eyes sparking emerald in anger.
Kozak shrugged. “I admit even I’m surprised that I managed to pull one over that man. He was very hard to avoid. A kind administrative assistant offered her corpse to take my place before I set fire to that floor. Well, I guess I shouldn’t say offered,” Kozack mused. She held out a hand to the man who summoned her and he placed a gun in her palm. “Left enough of my personal effects behind that she was mistaken for me. Very helpful.”
She paced back and forth in front of them while the man under her command began muttering into his neck piece. The sound of helicopter blades whirred in the distance, hinting at what he was organizing.
“It was even more fortuitous that Keane had a brother. This is Damien.” She gestured to the man giving orders. “And he was quite happy to help me with this little endeavor, as long as I paid. And with Merrick’s funds left to me after his death, I knew exactly what I wanted to do with myself.”
“How did you find us?” Nicky asked lowly, eyes burning with anger.
Kozack nodded approvingly. “I’m so glad you asked. It was such a simple but novel idea. I simply monitored events where I figured you might pop up: crime ring take downs, HVT’s meeting their deaths at the hands of unknown assassins, and the occasional natural disaster.”
The hurricane on Senegal’s coast all those weeks ago.
“Once we managed to get a bead on you, it was just a matter of getting you where we wanted you. It would be much hard to get a hold of you in populated cities so I figured we needed to drive you to more remote locations. A few well controlled ambushes by Damien and ta-dah. You all ran for cover like the scared little rabbits we needed you to be. And such an abandoned, remote location! Again, very helpful. And imagine my surprise to find there’s even more of you.” Her eyes narrowed on Quynh.
“So, we’re back to this,” Joe drew her attention. “You are going to torture us in the name of science, sacrificing your own humanity on the pyre of good intentions for the human race.” His voice was mocking.
“Good intentions for the human race,” she agreed, “and a Nobel Prize of course.”
“You have no right to do this,” Joe fired back.
“I have more than the right,” she looked down her nose at them. “You don't have the right to keep knowledge to yourselves that could save the human race from many illnesses and diseases. If I have to dirty my hands so future lives can be spared then so be it. If infamy is the cost of progress, I shall bear that cross.”
“Keep hiding behind your fabricated concern for humanity,” Quynh spoke up finally. “Infamy can be just as desirable to the ambitious, as long as they are known and lauded.”
Kozak raised a brow. “Just because it coincides with some personal benefit doesn’t mean it’s selfish.”
“Congratulations, you’ve just earned your place in hell next to the Nazi doctors who experimented on and tortured people,” Nile spat and Damian brought the butt of his assault rifle across her cheek in answer. Kozak’s face colored red at the insult. The helicopters sounded just outside the house now.
“Get them into the copters. Separate those two,” she added viciously, pointing at Joe and Nicky. “They’re troublesome together.” At that, chaos broke out as Nicky and Joe bucked and kicked, refusing to be separated. Andy was yelling at them to calm down, only to have Booker drive a shoulder into one of the other men next to him and Quynh and Nile followed suit, embroiling them in resisting their captors.
“ENOUGH!” Kozak shouted and pointed her gun at Andy’s forehead. Immediately, everyone stilled. Silence reigned. Andy looked at the gun and then back to the doctor. With steel in her spine and grit in her face, she pushed her head against the barrel, daring her.
“She’s mortal. One bullet to her cranium and she’s gone. Now, you can either cooperate or I lose my good will in transporting a mortal that has little contribution to my research.”
They all nodded, resisting bodies deflating at the threat.
“Good. Come, come my little lab mice. Time to change history.” There was more shuffling and stumbling as they were hauled to their feet.
“Wait.” Booker called out. Kozak paused.
“You don’t really want to do this,” Booker said, still slightly out of breath from their struggle.
Kozak scoffed. “I highly doubt there is anything you can say that will convince me of that.”
“Just listen. You said it yourself. You had no idea there were more of us. And you still don’t,” he said lowly. The others stared at him, bewildered. Joe caught on first.
“Shut the fuck up, Booker!” He hissed, adding enough of an edge of desperation to raise Kozak’s interest.
“It will be just like last time, Kozack. You will take us to some lab and have us all trussed up, unable to escape, only to be brought down by another one of us you had no idea existed. You’ve already seen it twice,” he nodded his head towards Nile and Quynh.
Nicky followed Joe’s lead. “Enough Booker! You are endangering so many others!”
“You think I give a fuck?!”
“You selfish bastard! Once again, you are willing to trade others for your own skin.” Joe shouted. “I don’t ever know why I thought you’d change.”
It must have been a familiar scene to Kozak, Joe ripping into Booker who would snap back in anger, Nicky listening and trying to reason with them. Andy saying nothing. It was enough to support the deception.
“You’re saying there’s more of you.”
Booker stared her stared her straight in the eyes. “Yes. And we’re all a real handful when we’re together. Once they find you and free us, you’re going to be back to square one. Or dead. So you have a choice.” This threw everyone for a loop. Now, even Joe and Nicky looked at him in confusion and it even drew Andy’s attention from the gun. Nile looked at him intently, but Booker didn’t waver.
Kozak hesitated. “You’re bluffing…”
Booker shrugged. “I might be. But you can either take all of us and risk losing us and your life when they all come for you. Or, you just take me.”
“What?!”
“Absolutely not!”
“NO!”
“Booker!”
A chorus of objections echoed from the rest of the Guard, but he continued to stare Kozak down. “You have me, one guaranteed immortal to do whatever you wish with. They won’t come after you and hunt you down. You are home free to perform your research for however many decades you have left in your pitiful life or I finally run out of lives. Take it or leave it.”
Kozak stared back, weighing. Deliberating. “No, Booker,” Andy hissed. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“This isn’t an option,” Joe growled. “Are you listening, asshole?!”
“Booker,” Nicky pleaded softly.
“Well?!” Booker demanded harshly, still ignoring them.
The doctor lowered her gun from Andy’s head. “Your counterparts don’t seem amenable to this.”
Booker looked to them before nodding to Kozak. “Let me talk with them.” When Kozak didn’t budge, he gave her an imploring look. “Please. It would be best for all parties involved.”
The doctor nodded and looked to Damien. A few curt hand motions and they were all shoved together in a circle, knee to knee, with the mercenaries hovering closely behind, but not enough to smother them.
“Booker!” Nile’s voice cracked out. Her anger danced around her like a whip. It distressed him to know another of his decisions was causing someone he loved more pain. “You can’t.”
He gave a grim smile to her, to them all. “This is the best way, the only way, to free you all and guarantee all of our safety.”
“Or we could just kill them all,” Andy muttered, making the mercenaries shift nervously.
“They’ve got us hamstrung right now and we all know it,” Booker countered. “And I’m not willing to risk your death or decades of all of us under Kozaks knife before we find a way out.” The others all frowned, knowing he was speaking truth but unwilling to settle with the circumstances as they were. Nicky looked devastated, blue eyes bleak at the thought. Quynh looked torn, her eyes bouncing between Booker and Andy. Joe’s dark brown eyes flashed with defiance and his jaw was clenched as he stared a hole into Booker. Andy shook her head, refusal in every line of her body. She lapsed into Ancient Greek, saying something about coming for him later.
Booker shook his head sadly. “We risk your capture or deaths again. Let this be the end of it. Once and for all. There is justice in it,” He answered in the same language before switching back to English for Nile’s benefit. “Stay well. Do good together and keep each other safe.”
“We didn’t agree to this Booker!” Nile shouted, her angry tears now spilling down her face.
“You once told me that it isn’t your choice who and how someone loves. This is what I am choosing.” He reminded her gently in French. His words echoed in the room, but the intimacy of the familiar language as he spoke kept it private from their captors.
He looked at Joe, a man who he fought with so much, but loved like a brother just as much. “This is me choosing my family over my ghosts.” Joe pressed his lips together in a line and nodded tightly.
Nodding to Nicky, another brother, one who knew how much a mistake could define you. And how redemption could remake you. “This is me doing better and owning my mistake that started this.”
He looked at Quynh. “It’s me repaying debts I owe.”
Then Andy. “This is me thanking you for the family you gave me and for all that you did to care for me. Know that it was enough.”
He turned to Kozak. “You have a deal. They won’t come after me.”
“Deal. But if I ever see one hint of the others, I shoot her and the rest of your friends will end up next to you on the table. I’d rather have one of you without the constant threat of more of you coming after me.” She gestured to one of the weights bearing pillars in the cabin. “Restrain them.”
The rest of them were dragged over, their zip ties were affixed in a hastily constructed chain to the pillar. Booker was jerked towards the door. Kozak gave them a signal to leave. Booker set his feet, forcing them to drag him out as he tried to make this last moment with them last.
“Thank you for allowing me this.” And then he was gone.
- - -
They boarded the helicopters quickly, taking off without lingering or fanfare. Someone secured his zip ties to something, but Booker paid them little heed. He stared at the house as it grew smaller. He wondered miserably what would the next decades hold away from his family? There was definitely a poetic justice to it, though. As much as he hated to leave them, it made sense that the time up until now as just a stay of execution. The chips were falling as they should.
“So selfless,” Kozack purred into his ear and he jerked away. “And as earnest as you are, I am no fool. You don’t really think that I believe they will stay away? No matter. I’m going to give them something to keep them occupied.” Booker looked up in horror as Damien turned the helicopter and flicked a switch to arm the missile launcher mounted to the bird, aiming at the front room where his family was.
“No! You said you’d leave them alone!” Booker shouted, lunging towards Damien only to be stopped by his bindings.
“It doesn’t matter how many more of you there are. Once we get to the lab, they will never be able to find us. I am only ensuring we will make it without them tailing us. Its quite the Fair trade. They don’t keep their promise and I don’t keep mine.” She shrugged.
“Kozak, goddammit, don’t do this! I will tell you about the others! I will reveal our safe houses. Our resources. Anything we know about our immortality. Just don’t do this! Andromache is mortal! She won’t survive this!” His chest heaved and his lungs seized, desperation and panic choking him.
“Do it.” She ordered Damien.
Booker screamed, the only thing he could do to oppose what he was witnessing as he strained against the cuffs. They dug into his skin but he didn’t even feel the blood or pain, didn’t feel his wrists dislocating.
The seconds before the missile hit were eternities. He’d thought nothing could compare to the grief and pain he’d suffered decades ago when he lost his first family. He was wrong. The house erupted into flames and smoke, the explosion rattling in his chest as he wailed. The others would survive it, but the loss of Andromache would level them all. Nile wasn’t ready to lead. Quynh’s mind would break under this final trauma. Joe and Nicky would fall apart trying to keep themselves and the others together.
Andromache the Scythian was the oldest among them, the longstanding witness of the ages, an indomitable fighter who had kept evil from tipping the balance for millennia. A guardian of the good in the human race. And she was gone. The world was poorer for it, but Booker didn’t care about the world at that moment. He mourned her as his sister in the centuries of his life thus far. He mourned that if he ever escaped, the rest of the family would never forgive him.
He turned to Damien and Kozak, blue eyes vengeful and teeth set in a snarl as he stood and charged. The skin of his hands were de-gloved, ripped off as he fell on the ones who hurt his family.
- - -
From the smoking rubble of the house, Nile pushed and struggled free, coughing at the dust and smoke that made her eyes water and her bronchioles spasm. Pushing at the debris on top of her, she emerged into the cold night air, the moon lighting her way enough to see the destruction around her. Using a move she’d learned in her Marine days, she tightened the zip ties with her teeth and then enclosed her fists together. Bringing the heels of her hands down hard and fast against her hip bone, the zip tie snapped. She searched for something sharp enough and found a piece of metal to cut through her ankle tie as well.
“Joe?! Joe can you hear me?!” She carefully picked her way across some beams, listening for the others as they healed enough to gain consciousness.
“Nicky! Yell if you hear my voice! I can’t see you!”
She picked around and lifted a piece of plaster only to uncover the Italian she had been calling for. “Nicky!” She reached down and felt for a pulse, finding none. She wasn’t surprised by the rather large area of his skull that was caved in, but she still sighed in relief when she heard his cranium snapping back into place. While she cut his bonds and waited for him to recover, she continued to remove detris around him. Where Nicky was, Joe often wasn’t far behind. She’d just managed to find him under a large piece of concrete when Nicky gasped back into consciousness.
“Thank God.” She gasped as she strained to lift the concrete off of Joe. “I’m gonna need your help with this.”
Nicky struggled to his feet, still dazed and in pain from his head crushing wound, but he nodded and staggered to her. Together, they managed to shift it off of Joe. Nile winced when she saw his back was very obviously broken. She remembers that from when she took the nose dive out of Merrick’s building. Broken backs sucked. Sickening snaps echoed as vertebra slipped back into place and Joe let out a pained groan, grabbing for Nicky even without seeing him.
“‘Ana huna, habibi,” Nicky murmured, holding his hands as Joe healed, using Nile’s metal piece to free him as well.
Nile turned, intent on looking for Quynh and Andy. Andy.
Horrified, she turned to the two men. “Andy!”
The two men immediately rolled into action, panic fueling the three of them with the realization that mortals would rarely survive a missile attack and a house falling on top of them. Frantically, they called for the other two women, hands cutting and healing as they dug through plaster and wood and metal.
A weak crying drifted a few feet from Nile and all three honed in on the sound, revealing the body of Quynh. She was prone, weeping and shuddering even as they spotted a piece of rebar she was impaled on.
“We need to remove her so she can heal,” Nicky stated needlessly. Together, they grabbed her limbs and began to lift her out, only to be surprised when she struggled and resisted.
“No!” she shouted as she bucked and writhed. “Don’t leave me!”
“We are not leaving you, ukhti,” Joe tried to assure her and then halted in shock when they had removed her from the pocket of rubble. Quyhn hadn’t been talking to them. Nicky choked on a horrified inhale. Nile stared.
Andy had been under Quynh, the latter woman no doubt trying to shelter her when everything came down. The rebar had impaled both of them and Andy’s lifeless green eyes stared up at them. Her skin was pale, gray and lifeless in the moonlight. Blood pooled under her, no doubt a result of many arteries and veins being torn open.
Knees trembling and weak, Nile slipped down into the shallow mockery of a deathbed. “Joe,” she choked out. “Help me.”
Joe passed Quynh to Nicky, the woman unaware of the transfer or of anything else happening. She lay in Nicky’s arms and screamed her grief to the sky, uttering words in her native tongue that Nile didn’t know.
Together, they carried Andy out and laid her gently in a clear patch of ground in the snow. They cut hers and Quynhs zip ties. Nile reached out and gently closed Andy’s eyes, her own tears spilling over as she listened to Joe weeping next to her and Quynh’s despairing wails.
Nicky’s quiet voice murmured underneath the louder sounds of mourning, a descant to the sorrow of their hearts. Latin. Quiet and heartfelt. And utterly devastated.
“Requiem aeternam dona eis, Domine. Et lux Perpetua luceat eis. Fidelium animae, per misericordiam Dei, requiescant in pace. Amen.”
Nile had lost friends in war before, but for some reason this felt different. They had known the minute that Andy became mortal that this would be the end result, but maybe she hadn’t really acknowledged what that meant. She bit her lip and picked up Andy’s hand, wishing they knew where her labrys lay amidst the rubble. It wasn’t fair. She should have died in battle, glorious in her fury and honorable in her stand for those who needed a champion.
Joe knelt on Andy’s other side, reaching out his hand to Nicky, needing the support of his soulmate. Nicky picked up Quynh and sat down next to Joe, leaning against him. Joe was lamenting in his own tongue now, speaking to Nicky and Quynh. He finished and buried his face into the other side of Nicky’s neck. Nile couldn’t imagine the depth of the grief that these ancients shared in that moment, and she suddenly feared what this would mean for them all. A future without Andromache seemed too great a giant to face without being utterly and absolutely defeated by it.
Nicky tilted his chin down to Quynh and spoke in Vietnamese. “Đi chị. Nói lời tạm biệt.”
Quynh shook her head in negation. “Không.tôi sẽ không để cô ấy rời đi.”
“She’d want you to say goodbye,” Nicky replied in English, gently guiding her towards Andy’s body. Both men braced her from behind, watching her say goodbye to her other half. Quynh’s hands trembled and tears dripped down her face, bathing Andy’s cold cheeks.
“I love you, my heart. May we meet each other again, in another life or in the hereafter.” She whispered over her, tracing her lips over Andy’s forehead, her cheekbones, her eyes. Then she laid her forehead against her love’s and mourned.
They sat there for hours, until the sun began to lighten the sky, blasphemous in its joy on a such a day of grief. Nile pressed her palms, rubbed her eyes and turned her face to the horizon as the sun broke the plane, warmth on her cold face.
“We need to find Booker.” She said.
Nicky nodded solemnly. “She would want us to do so.”
Joe reached a hand out to Nile and beckoned her to the other side of him. When she rose unsteadily and came to his side, he pulled her close.
“He is family,” he confirmed quietly.
Quynh sat up from where she had lain over Andromache’s body all night. “We will find Booker and take the life of that woman in return. She will threaten and hurt our family no more.”
They all nodded, course set and determined. And that’s when Andy’s corpse suddenly gasped and sat up.