Page 64 of Forging Darkness

The dark smirk curving his mouth is the last thing I see before he blinks out of existence.

Chapter Twenty

Iwake up with the taste of Steel still on my tongue.

Yum.

I know I should pop out of bed and assess my surroundings, but I steal a moment to wiggle into the bedding and smoosh my smiling face into the pillow, savoring the tendrils of warmth still lingering in my belly. It’s a delicious feeling too rare not to enjoy.

That boy knows how to kiss.

There are only two explanations for what happened last night: Either I truly dragged Steel and my friends into a dream, or I have the most creative subconscious on the planet. I’ve never considered myself to be particularly imaginative.

As consciousness creeps further in, ruining my dream-buzz, I stretch and flip over. Fully clothed from the night before and lying atop the bedding, it’s easy to slide my feet to the floor.

In the full-length mirror across the room I see that I’m rocking some serious bed head. Odd, since I usually don’t move in my sleep. Ash likes to say I sleep as still as the dead. So motionless, in fact, that I once awoke to her face hovering inches from my own. She was trying to determine if I was breathing or not. That had been a rough morning for both of us. I had a mini heart-attack and Ash got a bloody nose when my forehead connected with her face. Lesson learned.

My fingers race as I plait my hair into a braid. I hadn’t intended to fall asleep last night, but I’m not sorry. Besides potentially having reached my friends and discovered a new, completely kick-butt power, my body feels rested and aware. Only a slight twinge of pain remains in my thigh, and I have full use of the muscles again. All that’s left of yesterday’s wound is probably only a thin scar that will disappear before the day’s end.

Going to the barred window, I watch the gilded rays of first light chase away the bruised night. Dark blues and purples in the spectrum sky lighten to a greenish hue. Eventually the sky will be awash in pink pastels. It’s a beautiful sight, but I miss the blue skies of the mortal world.

From my perch, I spot movement on the ground. One of the figures below is Thorne—his light hair is a dead giveaway. The other could be Silver, but I’m not positive.

I squint, but I’m simply too high to be able to tell for sure since so many Forsaken share similar features. The air around them is also somewhat blurred, indicating raised voices.

Thorne slashes his arms through the air, getting loud enough for me to hear his parting words to the female Forsaken: “That’s final!” He turns away from my tower and heads in the opposite direction.

His companion watches Thorne leave before turning and disappearing into the tower at least a hundred feet below.

Reaching down, I check to make sure the shiv I made last night is securely in place. It’s tucked in a spare sock to keep from slicing me while wedged in my boot. It makes for a tight fit against my right leg, but I’ll put up with the physical discomfort for the mental peace its presence gives me.

Swiveling to the door, I lean back against the window and wait. Only a few minutes pass before the bedroom door is shoved open. Silver narrows her bloodshot eyes at me.

“You’re up to something.”

I shrug noncommittally.

“Whatever it is, you shouldn’t bother. The only thing you’ll manage to do is piss off Thorne. And trust me, you don’t want to see him in a bad mood.” She licks her blood-leeched lips, and her eyes shift to the side before returning to me.

Interesting. She’s scared of him.

“Noted.”

“Come on,” she says and then heads down the hallway, leaving the door open behind her for me to exit on my own. I pause only a moment before following.

“What, you aren’t going to tase me this time?”

She mirrors my earlier shrug, only glancing over her shoulder to make sure I’m following. “Ran out of batteries.”

At the end of the hall is an old-fashioned elevator, the type with a gate that needs to be pulled back manually in order to enter the car. Even though it looks ancient, it still seems out of place in this gothic structure. I thought there’d be another winding staircase rather than an electric lift.

Silver pulls a lever to call the car. I can hear it clank from several floors below as metal grinds against metal.

When it stops at our floor, Silver hauls the grate out of the way and saunters into the car.

“Maybe we should take the stairs,” I suggest, eyeing the decrepit interior of the box. Made completely of iron, spots on the walls and floor have rusted away. Step wrong, and half my leg will reach the ground floor before the rest of me does.

“Get in or I’ll bring something stronger than my Taser next time to motivate you.” She’s checking her dark, claw-like nails as she threatens me. The words are right, but the usual venom is missing from her tone. She sounds bored.

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