Page 7 of Soulbound Shadows: Part 2

I ran, and ran, and ran. I passed Theo, their head bloody and half caved in. Isabella, her expression rigid with fury and distrust. Gabriel, his eyes worried and hands smeared with ash. The curse scar on my chest ached like a ripened bruise I’d dug my thumb into. His eyes caught mine and he called my name. It sounded distant and strange, like a whisper in a dream.

“Not real,” I said again. It came out sounding like I was begging, and I clenched my teeth. I wished Gabriel was here. I was glad he wasn’t. I didn’t want anyone that I cared about to be in a place like this.

I was running on fumes, but I kept pushing forward. Finally, I crashed through a set of metal double doors and into watery sunlight. I looked around frantically. Another illusion? No, it was too complex, too all-encompassing. I could feel the sunlight on my skin. The wind was cold, and it rushed through the trees above, trying to knock down the last of the autumn leaves. In the distance, I heard the yells of kids playing. One of them complained shrilly about not getting a turn on the big slide. I was in a park. A familiar section of the park, actually, near a pizza place I liked. I glanced over my shoulder. The doors I’d burst through were disguised as an out-of-order public bathroom.

Luckily, I was in the boring section of the park, the part half-hidden behind bushes, away from the flower beds and the playground. Nobody bothered to hang out here. It was completely empty, and thank fuck for that. I didn’t know how it would’ve gone if a barefoot, filthy woman covered in dried blood burst out of a public toilet in front of a group of playing kids, but I could take a wild guess.

Keep moving. Just keep moving. No collapsing until you’re somewhere safe, or at least safer.

I staggered forward, moving on autopilot. The streets were uncannily quiet around me as I forced myself to keep walking. That was a problem for another time.

My knees nearly gave out when I turned the last corner of the walk and saw my building. Maybe if I collapsed here, somebody would carry me back to my place, I thought with a tinge of hysteria. Maybe if I collapsed here, somebody would find me and take me right back to Morgana.

Somehow, I made it to the front door. The stairs shifted under me, carrying me upward like an escalator, and I touched a grateful hand to Chanel’s wall. One of the floorboards slid me to the door of my apartment, which opened for me. I sank down to the floor as the door shut behind me. Every reserve of energy I’d called on to escape had been well and truly drained. Maybe I could sleep right here on the tiles?

There was a scuffle, then a gasp.

“Evangeline?” someone said.

The voice was painfully familiar. It was deep and concerned, precise in the way that indicated private tutors and public speaking lessons. The illusion had gotten better at making the voices sound right.

“I’m so fucking sick of hallucinations,” I snapped at the curse’s version of Gabriel. “So, fuck off.”

“Evangeline,” the voice said again, sounding choked and miserable. I felt the floorboards shift a little, like someone was kneeling in front of me. A cool hand touched my cheek, and I jumped. None of the illusions had been tangible.

I opened my eyes and saw Gabriel’s fine-boned face above me.

“You’re real,” I said dumbly.

“You’re here,” he said, just as dumbly.

I should have explained. I should have told him where I’d been, what had happened. I should have told him how sorry I was, begged him to forgive me. Instead, mortifyingly, I let out an exhausted giggle, then collapsed into heaving, ugly, snotty sobs.

Gabriel pulled me into his arms, holding me tightly and burying his face in my hair. It must have smelled rank, but he didn’t seem to mind. I was finally safe enough to let myself fall apart, and now there was no stopping it. I was shaking like a leaf, and Gabriel was the only solid point in the whole world. He was stroking my back, murmuring softly to me, but I couldn’t make out whatever he was saying over my own shuddering crying.

The floor dipped away from me as Gabriel stood, lifting me with ease. Consciousness was a struggle, and I slipped in and out of awareness. Next thing I knew, I was in the bathroom, sitting on the lip of the tub while Gabriel wiped the grime and flaking dried blood off me with a washcloth. Darkness enveloped me for a moment, and then I was vaguely aware of Gabriel trying to press a glass of water into my hands. As soon as he let it go, it slipped from my fingers, and his shape blurred as he darted down with superhuman speed to catch the glass before it hit the floor. Or maybe my vision was a little blurry, vampire speed or no. Then the sensation of cool glass against my lips as Gabriel held more water for me, giving me small sips. Darkness again. The smell of antiseptic, and the sting of it in the shallow cuts that littered my skin. Darkness. The vertigo feeling of being laid down, then cool sheets being pulled over me. The sounds of a happy cat. Darkness.

When I woke, it was dark out, and my entire body ached. I was in my own bed, and Pothos was curled up with his stupid little head pressed into my palm. There was no sign of Gabriel.

I knew, in an academic sense, that I was terrified. Had he left? Maybe he’d just stuck around to patch me up, but didn’t want anything else to do with me. I wouldn’t have blamed him. I barely wanted anything to do with myself, not after what I’d done and how I’d stormed off. I was tired enough that the terror was distant, though, like thinking about a TV show I wasn’t really invested in. There would be time for panic when I could lift my arms without it hurting.

I managed to scoot up a little in bed. Pothos gave a disgruntled ‘mmrp’, but he settled down when I stroked him. There was a glass of water on the bedside table, and I forced myself to drink it in slow, steady sips, even though I desperately wanted to slam the whole thing in one go.

As I drank, I took stock of myself. Gabriel had changed me into clean clothes. He’d done his best to wipe the worst of the blood and dirt off me, but I was in desperate need of a shower. There were bandages on my right arm—the novelty dinosaur ones I’d bought on a whim. I was so hungry I felt hollowed-out.

Just as I tried to get up, I heard the front door open. Gabriel appeared in the doorway holding a brown paper bag.

“Evangeline,” he said.

The naked emotion he put in my name made me feel raw and exposed. After everything I’d done, how could he bring himself to say my name like a prayer?

“I’m sorry,” he added quickly, moving to my bedside in a burst of vampiric speed. He set the bag down and knelt on the floor next to me. For a moment, I thought he was going to take my hand, but he curled his fingers into the bedspread an inch away from mine instead, like he was scared to touch me. “I didn’t want you to wake up alone, but… food.”

“You’re really not a hallucination, huh?” I managed. My throat felt like sandpaper. My eyes stung. I stretched out my pointer finger to press it against his. He was still tangible. Still here.

“I’m really not.”

He opened the bag and pulled out a plastic takeout tub of clear amber liquid, and another of something white.

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