CHAPTER 20
Renaissance
TO BE REBORN. I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN THAT IT was my destiny. Even the meaning of my name pointed toward it. Renée. Renaissance. The rebirth. With a start, I opened my eyes.
I was being carried down a hallway and out into a blue sunny day, so bright I had to close my eyes. Was I dead? Was Dante dead?
Slowly, I peeked open an eye. I was wearing a hospital gown. Someone was carrying me down the path toward the chapel. Turning my head, I looked up. It was Dante.
“Hi,” I said, my voice wavering.
Dante looked down and smiled. “Hi.”
I swallowed. “Am I dead?”
Dante took a turn to the left. The path was empty. It must be early, I thought. “No.”
“Am I alive?”
Dante sighed. “No.”
My eyes widened as I took in my new world. Flowers grew wildly out of the soil, and leaves budded on the trees —the first signs of life after a long, dark winter. “How long—”
I didn’t even have to finish my sentence. “Ten days.”
“And you? You’re—?”
Dante looked away.
I let out a sigh. So the kiss worked. “Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.”
He looked older now, more masculine. He aged well, I told him, like an expensive cheese.
He laughed. “Did I ever tell you how romantic you are?”
I smiled.
Dante took me to the cemetery behind the chapel, now overgrown with poppies.
“Hold out your hands,” he said, lifting my arms until they extended out like wings. He carried me through the field of red, my hands dangling limp on either side. And as the cold of my fingers grazed the tops of the flowers, the petals closed, leaving a trail of green behind us.
I blinked, unable to believe that this was my life. That this was real. That life could be this beautiful.
Setting me down in the middle of the field, we lay side by side, our hands barely touching as we watched the reflection of the clouds in each other’s eyes.
“I wish I could wake up to this every day,” I said.
“You can’t wake up without sleeping.”
I looked down, realizing what he meant. It hadn’t fully dawned on me yet that I was Undead. Lifting the left side of my gown, I looked at my stomach, where the shards of the shovel had cut into me. To my surprise it had already healed, leaving behind a jagged pink scar. Dante traced it with his finger.
“Your grandfather is coming to pick you up today,” he said.
“Does he know?”
Dante shook his head. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Why not?”
“Renée, this isn’t what I want.”
“Us?”
Dante gave me a sad smile. “No, this. I brought you here so we could be alone. So we could say good-bye.”
“What do you mean, good-bye?”
“Just for the summer. But you have to promise that when you leave this field, you leave me here.”
“You don’t mean you’re going to kiss me?”
Dante nodded.
“You can’t! I won’t let you!”
“I know,” he said, lacing his fingers through mine as he lowered his lips to mine until they were barely touching. “But you also can’t stop me.”
I closed my eyes as I felt an explosion of sensation run through my body. My fingers tightened around his.
“Why are you doing this? I want you to be alive.”
“Because,” he said, tracing a finger along my cheek.
“Real love is selfless.”
“I miss you already,” I whispered, my insides in panic.
Dante plucked a flower and tucked it behind my ear. “I’m with you, always.”
And then he leaned over and kissed me.