A Renaissance in Blood

Chapter 2

Chapter 2The first time Jesse reached for Gideon and found empty space instead, he didn’t panic. Gideon was always careful with him after an injury, pointedly giving Jesse the space he needed to heal. But a strong sense of foreboding filled him when he gazed into the corners of the room and saw nothing. He ran his hands down his chest and stomach, over his neck, across his thighs, seeking new injuries automatically. But there was nothing new. Just the old marks he had long grown accustomed to.

He waited. Not for Gideon, but for Emma. She soothed him. She always played nursemaid for him, and she was indulgent with him. She would crawl into bed with him, curl into his body, and let her steady breathing put him to sleep. She wouldn’t need to speak. She would only need to touch him, and they would hold each other. Safe.

But Emma didn’t come. He waited patiently, because he never doubted his Emma. But the door never opened. The door that Jesse only gradually realized wasn’t his. And the bed wasn’t the bed he shared with his lovers. He wasn’t in his home.

The implication was too large to comprehend at once, and so his fear grew, a small block at a time. It took nearly six hours of his prolonged solitude and bleak silence before the final block fell into place and Jesse could name his fear.

He was alone. He had been taken, again. Somehow.

Later, Jesse learned he wasn’t alone at all. Michelle hovered nearby, strangely anxious and just out of reach. Dominique watched him from the doorway, ignoring Michelle when she told the girl to leave Jesse alone. And of course, there was his father, distant and curious, a single name always hanging between them. Michelle spoke to him first.

We need to talk, Jess.

Jesse missed the way Gideon said his name. It rumbled in Gideon’s chest, a single syllable that vibrated between them. He always felt it just a moment before he heard it. He missed the way Emma said his name. Softly. She breathed it between full lips. There was never an edge in her voice, even when she had him on chain and collar.

There was a fight.

Jesse missed watching Gideon dress. He was so careful, selecting the right color and the right cut and the right material. But right for what? Jesse never knew. Gideon always did. Despite her more elaborate, feminine rituals, Emma never took as long as Gideon to prepare for the day. It wasn’t that she cared less. Jesse watched her, too, fascinated by the way she chose to shield herself against the world. Why did she choose to wear her hair in a ponytail one morning, and hanging around her shoulders the next? How did she know when it was a day for deep red lipstick, as opposed to the color she called “coral pink?”

It was more of an attack. A trap.

Jesse was always very proud of belonging to Gideon. It was never anything he tried to articulate. It just was. Knowing that Gideon was the fastest, the strongest, the best, and how that reflected back on Jesse. But it wasn’t that. Because Gideon wasn’t perfect, and he wasn’t the best. His flaws ran so deeply into his being, it scarred him permanently. But he was Jesse’s. He didn’t think Emma was perfect either, but she was the most perfect person he knew.

You were outnumbered. Gideon tried to defend you both. It looked like Emma was the first one they…they killed her.

The world did not make sense. Michelle’s words certainly didn’t make sense, because Gideon wouldn’t try to protect them both. He simply would. And what had Jesse been doing during this attack? He knew how to hold his own, and he rarely left the house without some sort of weapon. What could have been so overwhelming, so unexpected, that neither of them could defend against it?

Derek found you in the hospital. There was no sign of Gideon anywhere.

Gideon wouldn’t leave him. That was the fact of Jesse’s life.

Jesse had a feeling this conversation would go differently than the first one he had with Michelle after waking. For one thing, Jesse didn’t feel like his head was full of cotton. In fact, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d thought so clearly.

“You know you shouldn’t go wandering around after dark,” Michelle started.

“Why? I feel fine.”

“It could be dangerous. You don’t know what’s out there.”

“It’s London. I know exactly what’s out there. I should, I lived here most of my life.”

“And it’s dangerous for Dominique. She’s just a child. She doesn’t need to be caught up in whatever you’re doing.”

“I can take care of Dominique.”

Michelle crossed the room to inspect him, invading his space. Jesse’s first instinct was to push her away, but he stood still, allowing her hard gaze to travel over his body.

“Gun? Grenade clips? Where were you?”

“A demon nest on the East End.”

“How long were you planning that?”

“Long enough to get some artillery.”

“I don’t understand. Why wouldn’t you mention you found a demon’s nest? Why would you go out on your own? Why would you take that sort of risk?” Michelle sounded genuinely perplexed, like she couldn’t wrap her mind around Jesse’s obviously illogical behavior.

“Maybe I didn’t want you to know.”

“Why not?”

“Because I didn’t want to be cornered and asked a hundred questions.” He sidestepped to move away from her, and walked to the other side of the kitchen. “Unlike Dominique, I’m not fifteen. I don’t have to tell you every detail of my life.”

“You should tell me about the suicide missions.”

Jesse fiddled with the grenade clips still on his belt. “I don’t think I’ll be going on another suicide mission any time soon. This one didn’t work, after all.”

Michelle’s mouth fell open. “What did you do?”

“I think that’s my line. What did you do to me, Michelle? I stood in the middle of a demon nest, and I barely got a scratch. They should have been able to tear me apart. And then, I tried to blow myself up. But here I am.”

“You let Dominique go with you? Were you going to kill her, too?”

Jesse’s eyes narrowed. “She followed me all on her own, if you must know. Now, are you going to answer me?”

“Is it so bad, Jesse? Is it so bad to be here? So bad you’d kill yourself without even saying goodbye? Or leaving a note? You weren’t even going to leave a body. I thought you were stronger than that?”

“Stronger?” Jesse wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He didn’t think either choice was particularly noble. “I’m more worried about the fact that I survived the attempt. Do you have anything to say about that?”

“I wanted to tell you before you had the chance to find out on your own. That’s why I didn’t want you to leave the house. I didn’t want you to be surprised.”

“I was pretty surprised to survive two grenade blasts.”

She continued without acknowledging him. “I’ve made you a Guardian, Jesse.”

Jesse sucked his breath in sharply. “What?”

“You were going to die. Your injuries were critical. By the time I reached the ER, the doctors told me to say my goodbyes. Was I just supposed to let you die there?”

“Yes.”

Michelle’s eyes flashed. “How can you say that? How can you even think that? That doesn’t sound like the man I know. The Jesse Madding I know withstood days of torture and survived when others would have given up. He embraced life every single day. He fought for the world.”

Jesse slumped into the nearest chair. “Maybe the person you knew is gone. Forever.”

“How can you say that?” She slapped the table, and he looked up, startled to see her so close. “Because of Gideon?”

“You don’t get it, do you? Have you ever loved anybody in your entire existence, Michelle? Do you even know what it’s like to be in love with somebody? I don’t think you do. Gideon has been the center of my world for most of my life. And Emma…she was a gift. And now look what you’ve done.”

“What I’ve done? I’m not the one responsible for taking them from you.”

“No. All you’ve done is condemn me to an eternity without them.”

“Don’t talk like that.”

“I’m not going to wake up one day and think I don’t miss Emma, or that I don’t need Gideon.”

“You will. Trust me, Jesse, time is stronger than anything you’ve ever experienced. It doesn’t just heal wounds, it destroys the memory of them. One day you’ll wake up, and you won’t even remember them.”

Jesse made a shocked, choking sound. “Is that supposed to be a comfort to me? That one day I’ll wake up and I’ll forget about the people I cherished?”

“It’ll be a comfort to you one day.”

“Undo it.”

“What?”

“Take it back. Undo it. I don’t want to be a Guardian. I don’t want to be immortal. Just take it back.”

For the first time, Jesse thought he saw some sort of sympathy or pity on her face. “I can’t, Jess. Once the process has begun, you can’t stop it. You can’t take it back.”

“Process? This is a process?”

“You don’t have all your strength, or knowledge, or magic ability. Not yet. It’ll take some more time. And some more training.”

“How could you do this without even talking to me?”

“You were going to die. There wasn’t time to talk. I barely had time to get you here.”

“Here? You needed to bring me home to do this?”

Michelle didn’t answer.

“Does my father know what you’ve done? He does, doesn’t he?” Jesse knew it shouldn’t matter, but he felt betrayed. Fundamentally betrayed by the one person who should never hurt him like this.

“Where are you going?” Michelle asked as he headed to the door. “We still have more to talk about.”

“I’m going to talk to my father.”

“He’s asleep.”

“He can wake up.”

Michelle grabbed his arm. “You’re angry now. I think you should just go upstairs and get some sleep. I promise, things will look better in the morning.”

Jesse shrugged away from her. “I don’t sleep, Michelle. And I never feel better in the morning. In fact, I’ll be leaving in the morning.”

“You can’t.”

“Why? Because it’s dangerous? I think that word has lost its meaning, don’t you?”

Jesse didn’t wait for her answer. He ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time. His heart pounded in his ears, and his fury only increased with each second. How could they do this to him? How could they so thoughtlessly do this to him? A lifetime seemed impossible enough, but centuries of this torment? He couldn’t believe he had done anything to deserve this. Even at his worst, he had done nothing to deserve an eternity of hell.

He didn’t bother knocking on his father’s door. It flew open beneath his hand and Jesse could tell by the older man’s startled breath that he wasn’t asleep.

“Jesse?” Fingers scratched against metal, and the light on the nightstand flooded on. Oliver Madding sat propped up on his elbow, blue eyes blinking against the illumination to try and focus on his son. “What’s wrong?”

“How could you do this to me? Just tell me how you could do this.”

The change happened immediately. Oliver hardened, shaking off sleep to sit up. A tuft of silver hair stuck up at the side of his head, but it didn’t diminish his stern demeanor. “I don’t know what you think I’ve done, young man, but I won’t tolerate this kind of disrespect in my home.”

“Think?” Jesse almost laughed at the tone of his father’s voice. Like he was twelve, and would automatically cower under the weight of Oliver’s disapproval. “I know exactly what you’ve done. You betrayed me. How could you let Michelle do this to me?”

“Michelle saved you. You should be thanking her, not acting like a spoiled child.”

Fuck you. Jesse swallowed hard, afraid if he didn’t keep a careful hold of his anger, what happened in the warehouse would seem like child’s play. “Can you even conceive of what she’s done to me? When everybody I’ve ever known is dead, when I can’t escape the tedium of this world, when I’m completely alone with nothing but an eternity of loneliness stretched ahead of me, am I supposed to be thankful then?”

Oliver sighed and shook his head. “I’d hoped you would have outgrown this melodramatic streak of yours. I see that was overly optimistic.”

“And I can see you’re still the same arrogant piece of s**t you always were. Well, I guess we can both take consolation out of the fact that you, at least, will be dead soon.”

“Does that make you feel better?”

“That you’ll be dead soon? Yes. In fact, it does.” The only thing that made him feel better was the thought of getting the f**k out of the house. At least he didn’t have to be afraid of being too weak to take care of himself. “I’m leaving.”

“And go where?” Oliver shoved the blankets back and rose from the bed. He was the only man Jesse had ever known to sleep in full pajamas. “I’m genuinely curious. Do you really think you can go back to Chicago? You can’t even look at yourself in the mirror, Jesse. How can you look at all the places you shared with him?”

Jesse’s hands curled into fists, and he spoke through gritted teeth. “Say his name. If you’re going to play that card, then you can say his name.”

A muscle twitched in Oliver’s jaw. “Let’s not forget about Emma,” he said, ignoring Jesse’s directive. “You don’t need the reminder of how you failed to save her, either, I expect.”

His guilt for Emma was an ill-defined ghost, always lurking over his shoulder. In that sense, his lack of memory was a blessing. He could only assume the ways he might have failed, and somehow, that was better than knowing the details.

“I don’t need to be in Chicago to be surrounded by reminders of them. I never stop thinking about them. I bear their reminders on my body. That doesn’t mean I need to stay here with you.”

“Jesse…” Oliver ventured a step forward, but when Jesse stiffened and retreated the same distance, he halted. “Michelle and I only want what’s best for you,” he tried, lowering his tone. “If you were thinking clearly, you’d see that. I never had the opportunity to meet Emma, but from what Michelle has told me, she was a good soul. She wouldn’t want to see you throwing your life away.”

Emma wouldn’t want him to be miserable. Emma wouldn’t pretend that Gideon never existed. Emma wouldn’t take his free will from him just because she could. And Gideon never would have allowed it. All the pain inside him crystallized and settled in the bottom of his stomach.

“Don’t talk about her. You know nothing about her, or what she would have wanted. You have no idea what’s best for me, and you never have. What makes you think this is best for me?”

“You’re asking me if it would be better to let my son die?” Oliver shook his head and sat heavily on the edge of the bed. “I’m not a monster. No matter what you might think.”

“I don’t know if you’re a monster, but you are selfish. I don’t think I could ever forgive that.” Jesse turned toward the door. “Not that you care, I know.”

“I do care. I’ve always cared.”

Oliver probably thought he was being completely sincere. But that didn’t matter. Jesse felt like he had lost his father and one of his closest friends in a single, stunning blow. The fact that Oliver claimed to care did not mitigate these losses. Jesse stepped out of the room, silently shutting the door behind him.