I’m by myself,” she said finally. “No family to speak of.”

“I see.” Leaning forward again, he rested his arms against the table. “That must be rather difficult.”

“Sometimes.”

“And lonely, I imagine. Perhaps that is why you came here tonight?”

Her jaw popped under the strain of maintaining decorum. “First: I said I was alone, not lonely. There's a big difference. And second: is that really why you think I'm here?”

“I do not know what to think. I know you must have reasons for being here other than what you have already hinted at. Reasons important enough to make an otherwise intelligent woman not only bring food to a stranger so late at night, but also accept his invitation to sit inside an empty motel room without a second thought.”

“Why don't you just call me a hooker while you're at it?

It had only been two days – two days – since he’d seen her last, and yet he’d missed her every step of the way. How was that possible? To miss someone you’d scarcely had in your life at all? For all his knowledge, he had no answer, only knew that every moment spent by her side made it that much more difficult to leave again. To accept the incoming battering of noise, the necessary barrenness of his life. The loneliness.

He could hear the music of her voice so clearly as she spoke now, every inflection, every intonation. And the world around them, too – birds on the wing and children laughing. Her presence was a continual surprise, one that made him by turns calm and edgy and covetous. And mindful, his responsibilities, self-appointed though they were, crowding back into his mind on a silent sigh. The Descent was still closing in on him, and Dmitri still lived, which meant there was too much left to do and no time for distraction. But still...

That last night,” she said quietly. “Why did you say you hoped you'd never see me again?”

He hadn’t said it; it had been his last thought when he’d turned to leave. But he didn’t seem to notice the discrepancy as he looked at her now.

“Because,” he began before faltering, his voice leaving on a sigh. His left hand reached to rake a path through his hair, scattering the inky thickness in all directions. “The more I learn of you, the more difficult it is to stay away.

Nicholas wanted to scream until his throat bled. Or tear apart a wall of concrete with his bare hands. Anything – anything – to get the woman off his mind. The temptation she offered. The peace, the hope. They were killing him, taking away the need for revenge and replacing it with the need for her. As though she alone could collect the torn pieces of his life, stitch them back together, and help make him whole again.

He couldn’t take it, feeling again. Needing again after so many years spent in disconnect. It was too much, and if he hadn’t run from her like a total coward, he would have succumbed – lost himself inside the woman and given up to oblivion without a single ounce of remorse.

When he’d woken that morning to find her gone, he’d used the time alone to clean himself up in every sense of the word. Decisions about his future had been part of it, but there'd been more, too. Because in all the time they’d known one another he’d been completely unconcerned with his appearance. Now, however, he wanted to show her the man he truly was. More than that, the man she’d helped him become: healed, strong, capable. No longer in the shadows, but bathed in light. No longer in need of saving or protecting or anything. Except her.

How do you think I got to this point? Each day another step on an unending staircase? Months of searching, dredging through the filthiest places you could ever imagine, all in an attempt to find knowledge in the words of degenerates? To weed truths from the mouths of liars? You have no cause to judge my actions, and more than that you have no right. You do not know the things I have been through or the evil of the man I am searching for. He stole everything I had. Tortured me to the point of madness and left me with nothing. I am destroyed. All I could have had is gone, and there will never be an opportunity to regain it. Do you truly think a man like that deserves to be left alive? After all he has done? Or that, given the chance, he would not do the same thing to others?