Page 96 of Devil May Lie

“They never believed me,” he found himself whispering. “They never will.”

No matter how many times Berga had recounted the events of that night, it was obvious his parents thought he was at fault for what happened to her. He’d always partially thought they were right to, considering he’d had the chance to catch her and hadn’t done so.

Madden wasn’t the first person to point out the impossibility of that. How, at six years old, Berga wouldn’t have been anywhere near strong enough to stop his older sister's fall. The problem that still remained was not knowing if it would have made a difference even if they’d both tumbled down those stairs.

He could have altered her trajectory, prevented her from landing directly on her head the way she had, the way that had snapped her neck.

“Breathe, Berga.” Baikal slowly rose from the chair. “Keep yourself together.”

There was a flash of pink out of his periphery, and Berga twisted on his heels, frowning when there was nothing. If he was starting to hallucinate parts of her dress, it was only a matter of time before the apparition came to him fully formed.

And then the blood…

“Shit. I thought you said things were getting better? I haven’t seen you slip since we were eleven.” Baikal swore and grabbed Berga’s wrist, tapping away at his multi-slate. “We shouldn’t have talked about this. How did we even get on this subject?”

“Butcher—” whoever the Dominus had just called picked up after only a couple of rings.

“Shut up,” Baikal snapped as soon as Madden’s voice trickled through the speaker on Berga’s device. “Where are you?”

“Void?” Madden’s tone sharpened. “Where is Berga?”

“Here. He’s about to slip into psychosis. I need you to talk him out of it. Fast. The last time he did this at the manor, he broke several heirlooms and killed one of my guards. Not to mention the incident with the acid.”

“I’m fine,” Berga interrupted, but the speck of crimson on the back of his hand had caught his attention, so he barely focused on the multi-slate at all. There was a giggle in the distance and his head whipped in that direction.

“He’s not fine,” Baikal corrected. “He claimed you’re able to pull him out,” he said to Madden. “Hurry up and prove him right before I’m forced to restrain him for both our safety.”

“Are you doing that?” Berga asked, taking in the darkness that had started to seep closer from all corners of the room.

“Doing what?”

“The shadows.”

“No.”

“Then—”

“Hey,” Madden’s voice eased cajolingly over the line as he made the clear switch from speaking to Baikal to Berga, “Baby, what’s up? What are you doing right now?”

“I’m…” Another giggle and he shook his head, trying to focus. “I’m telling Baikal we’re seeing each other.”

“Oh? And how is that going?”

“What if we have to break up?”

“That’s not going to happen.” His voice hardened briefly when he added, “Listen closely, Void. It’s not.”

“I need the Brumal,” Berga said, shifting closer to Baikal when the abyss crept in closer, as though hoping the hand still holding his wrist with the multi-slate would help ground him. It never had before.

Only the Mad King had ever been able to reach him and pull him from a hallucination.

“And the Brumal needs you,” Madden reassured. “That isn’t going to change just because I’m your boyfriend. Pay attention to me, baby. Who else is in the room with you?”

He frowned. “It’s just Baikal, me, and—” He caught himself. “It’s just Baikal and me.”

“That’s good,” he praised. “Should I come pick you up?”

“Why?”

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