sounds of fighting even as she struggled to free herself. She hadn’t understood what it was she heard, but he’d recognized the voices in her memories, the familiar sound of demon death and battle.
He’d also seen the faces of his Grimm.
Now he had the memory of her emotions inside him as well.
You… She’d looked at Finn and it was like she’d waited her whole life for that moment.
She’d been bleeding, dying from a knife that had been shoved through her gut, twisted with excruciating thoroughness, and she’d lain in her own blood and the blood of her friends for what felt like a lifetime before Finn and Ira made it to her side.
Anger rode Will once more as he heard Ira’s voice through her ears.
She’s dying anyway, mate. Doesn’t matter if she dies alone or not. We’ve got demons to run down. Let’s go.
And Finn…she’d looked at him and all the pain faded.
You .
“You know him every time, don’t you?” he murmured.
Head bowed, he stared at the floor. Until he’d looked into her dark brown eyes, his path had seemed so clear. No, he hadn’t felt the answer—there were times when he simply knew what he was to do and he both loathed and accepted those moments. When he knew , then he didn’t have to feel like this, torn with doubt. But when he knew , he had no control over the outcome and even when lives were lost, he didn’t have to wonder if he could have done anything different. He only had to carry the guilt of those deaths on top of so many others.
He’d thought he’d known .
It had seemed so terribly clear. But then he’d met her and he realized that he’d been following the wrong cues. What he needed to do was find her. But now what?
There was no clear answer here, no clear direction.
The only thing that was clear was this…if he ended her life as he’d planned, it wasn’t going to stop this cycle. And when she returned, it was all too likely Finn would learn what had happened. Perhaps not this time, or the next, but it would happen.
That could well be the thing to push Finn over the edge for good.
He shoved away from the wall and turned to look at her, but the need to find an immediate answer was cut short as the medallion he wore heated and a familiar tug in his gut grew—then it wasn’t a tug.
It was an outright wrench on everything inside him.
Wary, he lowered the shields he kept around himself and swore as Finn’s presence slammed into him, even from halfway around the world. Although Finn lacked the telepathic abilities most of his Grimm possessed, Will didn’t need it to connect with him. It was more a burden to him than anything that his abilities had yet to reach a limit—a burden, because no matter what he did, he couldn’t stop the violence, couldn’t stop death…couldn’t prevent others from making mistakes like he’d made, and nothing, absolutely nothing, he did would undo all the wrongs in his past.
The heaviest burden of all.
Pushing it aside he reached out, focused on Finn’s mind, merged.
Scotland
Ruminating over the computer he’d grown rather fond of, Finn nursed a pint of ale and read through yet another report.
Following your gut was fine and dandy, but his gut told him there was a lot more going on than what he was seeing on the surface. He needed to dig deeper.
So, deeper, he was digging.
He’d caught a bit of the news earlier—a team was searching the island he’d just left. The inn was a popular vacation spot and the innkeeper well known by locals. Missing now, and although the reporter hadn’t confirmed it, Finn had caught the unspoken words.
It didn’t look good.
Another missing person.
Add that to the evidence of others he’d found.
The families Will had sent him to search for…
Brooding, he continued his search.
He’d thought he’d find bodies. Vankyr, the most animalistic of the demons who could walk on this plain, had been known to feed on flesh. The newer ones couldn’t take in more than a few bites, but
He’d also seen the faces of his Grimm.
Now he had the memory of her emotions inside him as well.
You… She’d looked at Finn and it was like she’d waited her whole life for that moment.
She’d been bleeding, dying from a knife that had been shoved through her gut, twisted with excruciating thoroughness, and she’d lain in her own blood and the blood of her friends for what felt like a lifetime before Finn and Ira made it to her side.
Anger rode Will once more as he heard Ira’s voice through her ears.
She’s dying anyway, mate. Doesn’t matter if she dies alone or not. We’ve got demons to run down. Let’s go.
And Finn…she’d looked at him and all the pain faded.
You .
“You know him every time, don’t you?” he murmured.
Head bowed, he stared at the floor. Until he’d looked into her dark brown eyes, his path had seemed so clear. No, he hadn’t felt the answer—there were times when he simply knew what he was to do and he both loathed and accepted those moments. When he knew , then he didn’t have to feel like this, torn with doubt. But when he knew , he had no control over the outcome and even when lives were lost, he didn’t have to wonder if he could have done anything different. He only had to carry the guilt of those deaths on top of so many others.
He’d thought he’d known .
It had seemed so terribly clear. But then he’d met her and he realized that he’d been following the wrong cues. What he needed to do was find her. But now what?
There was no clear answer here, no clear direction.
The only thing that was clear was this…if he ended her life as he’d planned, it wasn’t going to stop this cycle. And when she returned, it was all too likely Finn would learn what had happened. Perhaps not this time, or the next, but it would happen.
That could well be the thing to push Finn over the edge for good.
He shoved away from the wall and turned to look at her, but the need to find an immediate answer was cut short as the medallion he wore heated and a familiar tug in his gut grew—then it wasn’t a tug.
It was an outright wrench on everything inside him.
Wary, he lowered the shields he kept around himself and swore as Finn’s presence slammed into him, even from halfway around the world. Although Finn lacked the telepathic abilities most of his Grimm possessed, Will didn’t need it to connect with him. It was more a burden to him than anything that his abilities had yet to reach a limit—a burden, because no matter what he did, he couldn’t stop the violence, couldn’t stop death…couldn’t prevent others from making mistakes like he’d made, and nothing, absolutely nothing, he did would undo all the wrongs in his past.
The heaviest burden of all.
Pushing it aside he reached out, focused on Finn’s mind, merged.
Scotland
Ruminating over the computer he’d grown rather fond of, Finn nursed a pint of ale and read through yet another report.
Following your gut was fine and dandy, but his gut told him there was a lot more going on than what he was seeing on the surface. He needed to dig deeper.
So, deeper, he was digging.
He’d caught a bit of the news earlier—a team was searching the island he’d just left. The inn was a popular vacation spot and the innkeeper well known by locals. Missing now, and although the reporter hadn’t confirmed it, Finn had caught the unspoken words.
It didn’t look good.
Another missing person.
Add that to the evidence of others he’d found.
The families Will had sent him to search for…
Brooding, he continued his search.
He’d thought he’d find bodies. Vankyr, the most animalistic of the demons who could walk on this plain, had been known to feed on flesh. The newer ones couldn’t take in more than a few bites, but
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