Page 57 of Grave Revelations

Chapter 38

Rebecca

“Slow down. What are you talking about?” Guilt twisted in Rebecca’s gut, remembering Simon’s frail, battered body on the hospital bed. “You mean in Bermuda?”

“Rebecca, what happened to you two nights ago?” he asked.

Rebecca’s breathing hitched. Images of a soot-stained ceiling carved from rock flashed in her mind.

Bindings dug into her wrists as Elizabeth loomed above her, eyes wild. “Submit!” she screamed, digging bloody nails into her burned, bruised flesh.

Rebecca flinched, remembering the agony that tore through her as the creature’s sharp nails grazed bone.

“I will tear the heart from your flesh if you do not submit.”

The memories flickered, her brain struggling to make sense of the horrors her body had endured.

Elizabeth leaned against a wall, panting as faces crowded in, teeth digging into her skin, pulling something vital from her. Sophia's face emerged in the sea of yellow eyes, a friend among an ocean of monsters. Her mind played tricks on her as it worked to block the worst of the pain from her consciousness.

She blinked, Simon's words on the other end of the phone shakingher from the memory.

“Were you in danger? Talk to me, Rebecca, please.”

She swallowed, her mouth going dry and sticky.

The phone was lifted from her fingers, and Azazel’s gruff voice replied, “She’s not well. She’ll call you later.” A high, tinselly voice spoke, sounding panicked. Azazel grunted, and the voice continued. “I see.” More words, sounding very far away. “There is no need. She’s in my care.”

Rebecca ran her tongue along the roof of her mouth, images flashing through her mind on repeat: nails breaking skin, faces crowding above, her life slipping away.

A large hand wrapped around hers, squeezing gently.

Light. My light. I should have been there.

Her vision blurred, and she looked up into glittering, electric blue eyes.

A sob broke free from her chest as Azazel leaned into her, enveloping her in his embrace.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. Everywhere they touched, her skin cooled, soothed in places where it had been torn or punctured.The memory of a yellow-eyed witch standing over her, pressing hands so cold they burned to her bare skin, sent a shudder through her.

She hugged him tighter. The ember at the center of her chest pulsed, expanding until it felt as if it were too large to be contained.

I’m here.Azazel leaned back, meeting her stare.Do you feel weak? Take some of my blood.He released her, his nail lengthening, and he sliced his wrist, drawing a thin line of gold blood.

Rebecca started, backing away. “What do you mean?”

“You need energy to heal. Take it. Take all of it.”

She scrambled away. “No. I could kill you. I nearly killed Simon.”

Azazel snorted. “Simon was a human. I am immortal. Only one thing could end me.” His burning gaze left her in no doubt of the meaning of his words.

“That’s not true.”

“I may be erased from history, destroyed in the battle to come, drained of essence, but only you could end me.”

Rebecca shoved his already-healing wrist away. “How can you say something like that to me less than ten minutes after telling me we can’t be… together?” They’d never even talked about being together. But he’d declared it could never be, nonetheless.

His eyes tracked over her bare skin, goosebumps forming in the path of his gaze, and Rebecca was suddenly aware she was in nothing but a semi-sheer sleep shirt and thin, lacy matching shorts.

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