“I’ve heard it all,” he said, his voice rough as he kept his stiff position. “Please don’t. It comes down to one thing. I’m dying. I’ve been doing it for a long time, and it hurts. I stopped living three years ago when the medicine and charms quit working and the pain took everything away. There’s nothing left of me but hurting. I fought for two years with the thought that I was a coward for wanting to end the pain, but there is nothing left.”

I snuck a glance at him, shocking myself when I saw Nick sitting there, his jaw clenched and his brown eyes hard. It sounded like it was a story he had told too many times. As I watched, his shoulders slumped and he let go of the door. “This lingering isn’t fair to Audrey,” he said. “She deserves someone strong, able to stand beside her and meet her bite for bite in the passion she’s aching to show me.”

I couldn’t let that go without saying something. “And becoming an undead is fair to her?” I said, making his jaw clench again. “Peter, I’ve seen the undead. That won’t be you!”

“I know!” he exclaimed, then softer, “I know, but it’s all I’ve got left to give her.”

The whirl of air under the tires rose above the sound of the engine as we went over the first of the grates designed to lighten the bridge’s load.

“She knows it won’t be me,” Peter said, his voice calm. He seemed to want to talk, and I would listen. I owed him that.

He met my gaze and smiled a scared little-boy smile. “She promised me she’ll be happy. I used to be able to dance with such passion that it could drive her wild. I want to dance again with her. I will remember her. I will remember the love.”

“But you won’t feel it,” I whispered.

“She’ll feel love for the both of us,” Peter said firmly, his eyes on the passing bridgework. “And in time, I’ll be able to fake it for her.”

This was not happening. “Peter—” I reached forward to turn on the lights, and he stopped me with a shaking hand on my wrist.

“Don’t,” he said. “I’m already dead. You’re only helping me move forward.”

I could not believe this. I didn’t want to believe it. “Peter, there’s so much you haven’t done. That you might do. There are new medicines every day. I know someone who can help you.” Trent could help him, I thought, then cursed myself. What in hell was I thinking?

“I’ve had all the medicines,” Peter said softly. “Legal and otherwise. I’ve heard the lies, I’ve believed the promises, but there’s nothing left to believe in but death. I’m moved around like a table lamp, Rachel.” His voice faltered. “You don’t understand because you aren’t done living yet. But I’m done, and when you’re done…you just know.”

The car ahead of me flashed its brake lights and I took my foot off the accelerator. “But a lamp can light a room,” I protested, my will weakening.