Walter de Ville's Advocate

Chapter Twenty-Six

Evie brushed some loose hair away from my face, and the peaceful comfort her touch brought my troubled soul caused me to breathe her name in relief. I was here . . . I might very well actually be here with her.

"What happened to you?" she whispered so timidly, like she was afraid to scare me off. Did she see me as a wild animal on the loose? "Are you . . .," she trailed off suddenly, the question dying almost instantly. Her eyes were focused on mine, while only briefly dropping to my mouth. I knew what she sought there, despite my wishes for something more.

My memories were starting to rush back to me, with how long I'd been . . . back? I still wasn't sure if that was the best way to put it, but I was beginning to remember some of the answers to the questions that both Evie and I shared.

I moved my hand towards her, leisurely trailing the tips of my fingers up her forearm until the palm of my hand rested on the back of her own. Her low sigh was a welcomed sound, and I felt a small smile tug my set expression. Sliding my fingers between hers, I drew her hand to my chest, and rested it there. Evie was patient as she waited for me to tell her the answer, until she realized what I was showing her.

Her eyes had been casted downward, but they flicked up to me now.

"Walt, y-your heart - um," she winced, "I don't recall from before . . . didn't even think I had to check for such a thing, but did your heart not beat before, when you were a vampire?"

I slowly shook my head as I closed my eyes.

"You have brought new life to these four walls," I recited without thinking. "Maybe even enough to make this old heart beat again."

Pain seemed to visibly strike her, and oh! how I wished to erase it all, but there was no use in hoping to change the past. I of all people should know that. In lieu of the truly impossible, I squeezed her hand gently.

"You truly did," I paused before I finally said, "Evie," choking back the affectionate term that I'd given her. Evelyn Jackson might have been fond of me, but her declaration from when she thought I'd met my end - well - I couldn't hold her to it. I believed in my love for Evie - both then and now, but as much as it would hurt not to have her by my side, I felt absolutely sick at the idea of her being trapped with me . . . which was too ironic for me to dwell on, especially in this mental state.

"Walt," she exhaled, gathering her thoughts. "You know, I found it odd that at a masquerade dinner, you were the only one not wearing a mask, so I didn't wear mine either. Thing is, you'd actually been wearing one the whole time."

Now it was my turn to grimace; my own actions - even of my most recent past - causing me so much torment already. To my surprise, her expression gave an air of kindness; something I came to generally expect and cherish about her personality and demeanor, but nothing that I would expect with all that had happened.

"I have this vague memory . . . it might even be a dream . . . but perhaps," she breathed in and out softly. "I'm tired of the façade . . . constantly keeping up appearances . . . it's all so isolating. I want someone to see me for who I truly am . . . doesn't try and change me into an idea, or a concept . . . an itch that they need to scratch. Someone that accepts me.

"Is that what you meant when you said you thought we were done with this charade?" she asked, a little confused. I, personally, was surprised that she recalled any of that conversation from the night Viktoria had scared her. I'd thought the tea had lulled her to sleep, but she did say she thought it all a dream.

I huffed, almost laughing at the absurdity of trying to explain away everything that Master de Ville said and did, when those memories were lined up simultaneously with what I experienced in the witches' realm of trapped souls. I was no longer a vampire, and thus no longer de Ville, and yet . . .