She is Fatal to Death (Standalone Story)

Chapter 42 (The Punchline)

Renata

Renata stared up at the rocky ceiling of the cavern as she laid on top of Tahoma. Blue light leaked through the thin crevices in the wood and the stone. The materials intermingled in an erratic, twisting pattern. The water from the spring reflected the soft luminescence, its reflection moving softly in a constant, lulling flow. Had she been ignorant to where she really was, she would have almost considered this place heavenly.

"I can't wrap my head around it," he said for the thousandth time with his deep, soothing voice, though his shocked state matched her own. "Could Keone be mistaken?"

She sighed and looked over at Keone who remained sound asleep. Thankfully, it appeared he was healing quicker than either of them had anticipated. No, she absolutely did not feel relief when they came to the realization. "I don't know. He seemed really convinced."

"Why the hell would Angel create the undying in the first place? He's practically been the undying's adversary since the beginning. All these centuries, he's regarded us as lower beings. Mistakes. In a way, we thought because we couldn't die, it was somehow an insult to him, the grim reaper."

She looked deep within her heart, asked her growing wisdom those very same questions, yet despite her growing abilities and powers, she came up blank. "I don't know if we'll ever understand, but I do believe Angel is at the center of it all."

"Ma," he began, though this one word clearly reminded him that Nirvi was gone, and her heart broke for him. She turned inward and held him tight as the grief overtook him.

"I'm so sorry, Tahoma," she responded. Her own voice thickened with empathy. She remembered the day she lost her mother. She never actually saw her body or the scene, only recalling how Rocio bounded from the kitchen, her face ghastly pale and horror etched into the crinkled lines of her face. From that day on, Renata's heart was never the same, and the loss from that day haunted her then, now, and would until she had her true, final breath—if she ever did. "Nirvi deserved better."

He took in a deep breath, and the sound was of frustration and sadness. "She was the oldest of us. She'd seen things you couldn't imagine–including me with more than enough centuries under my belt...she lived a good, long life, but yes, she did not deserve that." His grief-filled range bled into his voice. "He does not deserve another breath, I could just–" He cut himself off with an angered grunt. He sat up and pulled away from her as gently as he could, considering the state he was in.

She sat up and watched his back as he pushed his hands through his raven hair. She scooted closer, though hesitated to occupy his personal space while he was so vulnerable.

"He needs to be purged of this Earth," he pushed through gritted teeth. "And if I had to fight to the very last drop of my blood, I will help you end him."

Unable to stop herself anymore, she went to him and hugged him from behind. He placed his long arms and hands over hers as they encircled him. He accepted her touch. "We will," she assured, "and when it comes down to him and I...I will bring him to justice."

"I believe in you," he declared quietly. He turned so they were face to face. He admired the openness he offered. "You don't deserve the weight of the world on your shoulders. You don't deserve this burden," he cradled her face and in that moment, she felt like crying, "but through it all, I will be by your side."