The Golden Lily (Bloodlines, #2)

by Richelle Mead

He almost smiled. “There you go again. Why? Why do you keep helping me?” There were a million answers on my lips, everything from It’s the right thing to do to I don’t know. Instead, I said, “Because I want to.” This time, I got a true smile from him, but there was something dark and introspective about it. He shifted closer to me again. “Because you feel bad for this crazy guy?” “You aren’t going to go crazy,” I said firmly. “You’re stronger than you think. The next time you feel that way, find something to focus on, to remind you of who you are.” “Like what? Got some magic object in mind?” “Doesn’t have to be magic,” I said. I racked my brain. “Here.” I unfastened the golden cross necklace. “This has always been good for me. Maybe it’ll help you.” I set it in his hand, but he caught hold of mine before I could pull back. “What is it?” he asked. He looked more closely. “Wait… I’ve seen this. You wear this all the time.” “I bought it a long time ago, in Germany.” He was still holding my hand as he studied the cross. “No frills. No flourishes. No secret etched symbols.” “That’s why I like it,” I told him. “It doesn’t need embellishment. A lot of the old Alchemist beliefs focused on purity and simplicity. That’s what this is. Maybe it’ll help you have clarity of mind.” He had been staring at the cross, but now he lifted his gaze to meet mine.

that was close — wrong timing for the light , way to ruin the mood