Secret Worlds (30 page)

And the thing was, I didn’t care. I was already dead. Everyone I had ever loved was dead, save for Lulu, and if my track record were any indication, it would only be a matter of time before she was killed, too. Because death followed me, wherever I went, and there was no denying that now.

The yard was empty. Only one piece of evidence remained to indicate what had happened here. I bit down on my lip to brace myself as I turned to face it. To face … him.

I swallowed hard as my gaze drank him in. He was still a beast. Was he not going to transform back? Would this be how he would spend his eternity—in the body of an animal, afforded no more dignity than a dog who had been hit by a passing car and pulled off the side of the road to die? Body battered. Limbs bent at impossible angles. Blood everywhere. All the signs that life had been present but was not anymore.

I stared hard, willing him to breathe, praying to see that rise and fall of his chest, clinging hopelessly to that thread of hope, knowing if anyone could survive this, Abram could. And yet knowing no one could survive this.

Everything was still. The
yard. The leaves in the trees. And worst of all, Abram. So peacefully, painfully still. The realization of how true his death was rocketed into me like a missile.

I turned my back against the window and slid to the floor, by body plastered against the damn wall.

This can’t be happening
.

I repeated the thought like a mantra, over and over, again and again. And nothing changed. I was so crippled with emotion that even my tears escaped me. There was nothing left. My entire being was evaporating around me, my mind and emotions at war, pulling me in every direction.

All the fire that blazed within me while Abram was fighting for his life was now extinguished. He was dead, and he was taking my will to live with him.

Let Dalton come. Let all the beasts this world had to offer come for all I cared. What more harm could they do to me now? In less than five minutes, everything had changed. All hope had been erased. All of my worst fears had been realized.

Just five minutes ago, Abram had been standing before me, his chest heaving with determined breaths. How could those breaths be his last?

My senses started to return. First with the sound of my pulse in my ear, a rushing, shushing sound. An agonizing reminder of life. I dug my nails into the wood floor beneath me and pressed the back of my head hard against the wall.

Abram
,
no
.

I squeezed my eyes shut, and the burning tears that had been floating in my subconscious came streaming out, reminding me I was still alive to cry. To feel. Alone.

The more I wanted the pain to end, the harder I cried. I was hyperventilating, and this was even worse than when cancer stole my mother from me. I choked on life’s air as I gasped for breath.

I had the fleeting thought of getting up. Of pulling myself together. Of just stopping crying long enough to breathe. But those thoughts only made me hurt more, made my cries flood faster, made the ache spread farther in my chest.

Like an insult, the door clicked and creaked open, releasing me from my prison. I didn’t bother to open my eyes. I wasn’t ready to see life beyond that door. I just shook my head and curled into myself.

“I know you must be disheartened.”

The voice tore through my mind. Whipping my eyes open, I looked toward the source of the noise.

Satina stood at the doorway, still wearing the dead girl’s body and looking every bit as refreshed as a girl coming off a week long Daytona vacay.

I licked my dry lips, trying to find the will to speak. “How long have you been standing there?”

She titled her chin up. “Charisse, you have to understand—”

I lifted my hand to stop her. “Don’t,” I ground out, anger bubbling up inside me. “Don’t fucking say another word, I swear to God, Satina.”

She had been right outside this door the entire time, I just knew it. She could have helped. Could have used her Conduit magic and saved his life. Could have freed me and allowed me to at least try to protect him. Could have done
something
. But she’d just stood there. Stood there and let him die. Left me in here to watch hopelessly as his life was stolen from him. From
me
.

“I did what I had to do,” she said firmly, not wavering an inch from where she stood.

Indignation swelled in my heart. “You
bitch
!”

I darted to the far wall to grab an ancient-looking sword in a scabbard that hung there as one of the few adornments in the room, but as soon as I touched it, I realized it was fake. I could still give that bitch a hell of a swat nonetheless.

“This was all some plan of yours, wasn’t it? You pretended to help us so we’d let you free. And then you just did nothing while they killed him!”

Satina rolled her eyes. “If you recall, it was your other boyfriend who freed me. The cutie in the police uniform.”

“In case you didn’t know—and I’m
sure
you did—he’s the beast that’s after me. But you probably planned knew that all along.”

I marched toward her, costume arsenal in hand. To her credit, Satina didn’t look worried. Given the fact that she was a one hundred and fifty year old witch, had already died once, and was being threatened by a woman who had never swung a golf club much less a sword, that shouldn’t have surprised me.

She just remained where she stood, leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed. “Calm yourself, Supplicant.”

“I’m as fucking calm as it gets,” I said through clenched teeth, tightening up on the sword’s hilt.

“You’re blaming the wrong people,” Satina said, cocking her head curiously to the side. “It isn’t I who is responsible for the death of your love, nor the mob who assailed him.”

“You could have helped him!” I yelled, lunging toward her.

“I
did
,” she said, a ting of annoyance in his voice. “I helped him achieve what
he
wanted. To keep
you
safe!”

“That wasn’t his call.” I had settled in front of her, sword still in hard, but it hung limply at my side now. Fresh tears swelled on the cusps of my eyelids. “That wasn’t your call.” I wiped my eyes with the back of wrist. “Damn it, fuck you both! It’s
my
life!”

“And his life was his,” she said, her eyes flickering past me. “And I’d dictated more than enough of it. He at least deserved to die with the honor he sought.” She shook her head. “Alas, I am afraid rest doesn’t always come so easily.”

I deflated at her words. Beating Satina to a pulp wouldn’t bring Abram back, and it wouldn’t stop Dalton’s crusade. It was over. I dropped the sword, letting it clang to the ground.

“You’re not worth my time.” I shoved her out of the way and moved past her through the threshold.

My empty shell of a body glided downstairs and out the front door. The night air punished me as I stepped outside, lighting up my skin and reminding me that it would never again feel the touch it yearned for.

My entire body shook as I neared the dark mass that was Abram’s body. It was a death march, the quickly vanishing line that led to my last moments of happiness—perhaps my last moments ever. Death was coming for me next, and I couldn’t think of a better place to die than by Abram’s side, where I should have been all along.

Dalton would be here soon, but damned if I wouldn’t say goodbye first.

I couldn’t stop the tears from falling as I settled over him. His body was large and rippling. His blood-soaked fur matted against his skin, and his mouth hung open, his fangs bared.

He certainly should have been a frightening sight, but he wasn’t scary at all. He was majestic and beautiful, even in this mangled, beastly state. Because I could see past it all. I could see who he really was, and I had never wanted to be near anything so much in my life.

I knelt down slowly, savoring the closeness. After today, I would never have this again. I lied on the ground, face to face with Abram. His eyes were closed, but I reached out, stroking his cheek. Sparks lit up my hand every time I touched him, and now was no different.

The tears scraped down my face like needles dragging against skin, leaving my cheeks raw and sore. But I settled my breaths. If these were to be the last moments I would ever spend with Abram, I would not to cry through them.

“This isn’t over, Supplicant.”

Satina was behind me, standing over me and robbing me of this, too. Intruding on these last moments, stealing my chance to say goodbye. In her hand, she held the display sword I’d threatened her with earlier.

“Leave me alone,” I muttered, defeated.

“And if I did, what good would it do? Fate has plans for you yet, plans that will take you to places near and far.” She inspected the not-so-sharp blade of the sword and frowned. “You have not yet seen what you need to see, not yet done what you need to do, and not yet loved in the way that will save us all.”

“Just shut up!” I screamed. I’d had quite enough of this. “Shut up and go away!”

“Why do you think Abram did this, Supplicant? Why would Abram go through this nightmare? Why would he give up so much for this crusade, for you? Answer that, and I’ll leave you … if you still wish me to.”

“I don’t know,” I answered, still sobbing painfully. I put my head on Abram’s chest, resting against his soft fur.

Satina stabbed the sword into the ground and rested her hand on it. “Yes, you
do
know.”

“I don’t!”

Her hand gripped the sword handle, and her gaze cut into me like a razor. “Answer my question, and I’ll leave.”

“I thought—I thought he loved me,” I said, squeezing my eyes shut. Maybe that would make her go away, or maybe she just wanted to rub salt in the wound. None of it changed how
I
felt about
him
. “But I was wrong.”

“And yet, here you are, still alive. Because he knew there was more ahead for you. If you loved him, should you not honor his sacrifice?”

I stared up at her defiantly. “Why should I?” I asked. “Why are you letting him die? Why can’t you just bring him back?” I sat up now, wild with need. “Use my blood or something. Satina, you can’t let him die. You can’t. You could help him, I know you can.”

“Oh, child,” she said with a sigh and a slight frown. “You still don’t get it. Today is nothing”—she waved her free hand dismissively—“compared to the many trials you will face yet. You need this moment in your life to prepare you. There are worse days ahead than this one. Great lovers and more painful heartaches. Believe me.”

She didn’t know shit. I glared at her. “Nothing could be worse than this. Now do something,” I growled through my teeth. “Save him!”

Satina pulled the sword from the ground and dragged it behind her as she practically floated over to me. Setting the display arsenal on the ground beside Abram, she crouched at my side and placed her hand on my arm. I would have expected my skin to crawl at her touch, but the action seemed surprisingly … gentle. Caring, even.

“He’s not gone, Charisse,” she said, her voice soft.

“You’re gonna save him?” My voice was barely above a whisper, too afraid to convey hope.

“I don’t have to,” she said, smiling. “You already have.”

“What do you—”

She swiped her fingers under my eyes, smoothing away my tears. When she lifted her hand, her fingertips were red. My tears must have been streaming through the cuts on my face from when we broke through the glass back at The Castle.

Looking down, I saw a pool of my blood, of magical blood, soaking up into Abram’s skin. It glowed with the same golden signature it had the first time he touched it.

Oh
.

Realization shot through me like a current of electricity. My tears had carried blood from the wounds on my face to Abram’s beastly body. Could it really have … healed him? Of course I never would have thought of that … this whole having magic blood was new to me, and I still didn’t know all that I was capable of. But was I capable of saving him? Even without the ability to perform magic myself?

My gaze trailed up to his face, and just as I looked at him, I felt it.

I felt him
breathe
.

My heart sped in my chest, and a rush came through my lungs. I stood stock-still, frozen, holding my breath, waiting for another, hoping it wasn’t imagined, praying it wasn’t an illusion.

“Is he … Is he …” I was afraid to finish the question.

“Yes, Supplicant. He’s alive.”

“My God,” I whispered, my tears turning from ones of anguish to joy. “He’s alive!”

“Barely,” Satina said. “But, if he is left to heal and recuperate, he’ll rejoin us soon enough.”

“Well, then,” said another voice in the distance

My head snapped up.
Dalton
.

He moved toward me, already changing into a monster himself, one dead set on tearing me from limb to limb. “Looks like I’m going to have to put a stop to that.”

The sight of Dalton standing there, half beast and half something much worse, sent spikes of panic coursing through my veins.

Abram was still out. He wasn’t dead, which was a step above his condition a few moments ago, but he also wasn’t in anything close to fighting shape. My body tensed as I mentally recounted the last confrontation I had with Dalton. That hadn’t gone so well for me. In fact, I still bore several injuries from that attack, although, if I knew how my blood worked, that could be what saved my big beautiful ass. Unfortunately, I
didn’t
know that. Not even a little.

Dalton’s gaze violated every inch of me. It seemed impossible now that I had ever thought of him as desirable, as anything other than some horrific monster. It was all over him, in the wicked crook of his lips, in the sly way with which he slinked closer.

And then something unexpected settled over me. Guilt. He hadn’t always been this thing. Dalton was once the boy I grew up with. He was Lulu’s brother, who chased us around ponds, holding up frogs like they were knives, the boy who hid behind trees and assaulted us with snowballs every winter. He was just a boy, just a person. And now, in part because of the sickness that threatened to destroy him, he was something else.