Page 10 of Buried Secret 295

He sits down on the couch beside me and nods. “Your mother and I met years ago. We became friends, of sorts. She wasn’t my mate or anything like that, yet I felt pulled to her first by her dreams. I visited her and got to know her in her dreams. Keira was charming. I wanted to help her, but she pushed meaway. She was dating Marcus and ended up marrying him. The pull and the friendship I felt for her never stopped, even though she was married. Perhaps it was the companionship I missed so much. I had little to no connections in this world. She helped me feel something I didn’t know I could be capable of. Her nightmares called to me; she wanted to leave him, and I helped her. Friendship lines were crossed as we spent almost two weeks together. Then, she went back to him to get your sister. She was supposed to come right back. However, when she didn’t, I became worried. When I finally got to her, she told me never to contact her again. That I was a foolish mistake, and she wanted to stay with Marcus.” He takes a breath and shakes his head. “I’m not the type of man who deals with rejection well. Hell, she had a kid already with him. She chose him. It was my first experience with heartbreak.”

“She tried to talk him into letting her take me to you that day. It didn’t work out.” It seems impossible not to think back to that last day.

“If I could, I would kill him for what he did. With him being in the ministry…” he trails off. He doesn’t need to elaborate because security will be tight.

I nod my head, “Exactly. He will not make it easy.” My breath catches in my throat, creating a weird gasping, choking sound to fill the air. I fall to my knees as my eyes bulge within their confinements. I can barely see or make out the two men before me. It feels as if something is choking me. I can’t breathe as I cough, trying to dislodge whatever seems stuck inside that’s blocking my breathing. Something seems to move inside of me, taking over as it attempts to claw its way to the surface. My hands dig into the carpeted floor, and pain seems to overtake my body. My back arches back, and the bones in my hands snap and twist as my beast tries to take form.

“What the fuck is happening?” I hear someone yell, but it’s all background noise. The creature inside is taking over my body. It doesn’t care if I am here when it does. I feel helpless as I know if this continues, I am going to die.

I do the only thing I can as I reach inside, trying to connect to my shadows for help. My shadows seem to be pressed up against the corner of my mind. My pleading has given them more power as they scream out.‘You will kill her, beast! Wait your turn, or you end us all.’As suddenly as it began, the creature inside me that felt like it was tearing me apart stopped its movements. The beast pauses as if to consider my shadow’s words. My body feels like it has snapped in half to make room for the creature. I can feel it growl, almost as if it has realized its host body is dying.

Once more, the thing huffs, and I can feel it move throughout my body. The feeling starts at my fingertips, and I feel it move as it drags itself back within me. It takes all the pain and pressure away as it retreats. Sweat covers my body as I feel my body touching the ground once more. It feels like my body is slowly uncurling itself from within. My system tries to calm itself as I stare at the popcorn ceiling. “Salem?” I’m sure it’s Simon, but I can’t be sure. Exhaustion is overtaking me.

“I need a minute.” My lips feel dry as the words come out. If I thought I was thirsty before, now I feel parched, as if my body hasn’t had a drink in years. Everything aches, and tears stream down my face as I cry silently. I keep my eyes closed until I can control my emotions once again. When they reopen, my eyes narrow on the ceiling. Is that blood? My fingers reach up and touch my face. When I inspect them, blood lingers on them. I am a terrible house guest. I’ve been here for less than five minutes, and I’ve already bloodied the upholstery. Mentally, I prepare myself for the yelling that is about to occur. The white couchwill never be the same as it looks like I exploded before piecing myself back together.

“What the fuck was that?” Constantine’s voice seems to tremble slightly. However, my ears are popping, and all the sounds seem muffled. I don’t have a suitable answer to his question, so I continue to lie there. The pain seems to lessen with each second that I remain still.

The smell of blood hits the air, blood that isn’t mine. My nose twitches, and I feel the blood drying on my flesh, making my skin feel tight as I sit up and look around for the source. Constantine kneels and hands me a cup. “Hold that.” He helps to adjust my body before maneuvering me, so I am now leaning against the couch. “Now, drink that.” I bring the cup to my lips and practically moan into the cup. “I’m sure it’s better from the source, but the only bites I allow are in the bedroom.”

Constantine’s hand begins to knit itself back together as he leans against the wall, watching me. Simon shakes his‌ head, throwing his hand up to gesture towards me. “Seriously, she is your daughter.”

“Your point?” He narrows his eyes at Simon, who throws his hands up. “But seriously, what the fuck was all that about?”

I continue to drink, taking my time and relishing the feeling.‘The blood is helping the beast stay at bay.’It has my anxiety relaxing its grip, and I feel like I at least have some slack in the metaphorical noose around my neck. “Power shift in my system. The beast wants to be the dominant power.”

“The beast?” Simon asks before continuing. “The doctor’s notes from the facility mentioned a shift occurred finally. Is that what you’re speaking about?”

“I believe so? It’s not like I have a map for all of this. The blood has helped, and my shadows reasoned with it. I’m unsure if there is space for all these entities.” My hand grips the cup tighter while my thoughts wander about if, after everything, Iwill end up dying from one of these shifts. Despite the godlike intervention, I still may yet die. Of course, when I want to live, my body is fighting against that goal.

“We will stay here for the night. Tomorrow, we will regroup and figure out the next moves. You need to rest after that, and there should be no unnecessary stress, if possible. Shower or bed first?” Constantine asks with one dark eyebrow raised before he shoots Simon a look, daring him to say no.

“I should say shower, but I don’t think I can stay awake long enough.” I try to stand, but Constantine lifts me.

“I’m carrying you. That shit freaked the hell out of me.” I open my mouth to argue, but stop when his gaze practically begs me. As bad as that felt, I bet it probably looked worse. “Let me do this, please?” I am too exhausted to care. My eyes droop. I don’t even remember hitting the sheets.

Chapter eight

Birds. I almost forgotabout their existence. The tiny feathered assholes greet the day so happily with their songs. Their happiness is something I find annoying as I wake from one of the best nights of sleep that I’ve ever had. The noises will take some getting used to, but they at least make me smile as I snuggle deeper into the covers. I try to doze back off since I’m not ready for it to end. Reality is about to set in when it ends, and I will have to face the day. I will have to answer questions about my past and yesterday’s power shift within myself. That sounds rather exhausting.

I close my eyes and realize I can’t put this off despite wanting to. I have to face this thing head-on and can’t ignore them even though I want to. Because let’s face it, I’m the problem. Now two others have fallen into the bullshit that is me and my life. One is because he is technically my father, and the other is helpingbecause of my magic waking something up with the Academy. I should have paid attention to Simon when he was talking about it. It didn’t seem like it was that important at the time. Part of me still doesn’t care, even though I probably should.

With a deep breath, I open my eyes and see the early morning light streaming through the light gray curtains. I throw off the thick comforter and sheet, frowning when I see the blood that now stains the light gray. Guilt gnaws at my gut for ruining something that belongs to Simon. I didn’t even have the energy to climb the stairs, let alone be able to shower. There is no use in worrying about the what-ifs. Today, I will try to be a better house guest. Considering all he’s done for me, it’s the least I can do. I pull the sheet and blanket back onto the bed to hide the blood that stains them slightly. It’s childish, but I don’t want to look at it yet. Flashbacks of the pain from last night enter my mind, and I want to bury it for now.

Someone left a pair of stretchy sweatpants and a gray T-shirt at the end of the bed. A shower will do me good. I look around the room I am in for the first time and notice how bland it is. Everything is shades of gray, from the wood floors to the walls. No pictures or personal touches are lining the walls. Maybe it’s because it is a guest room, but if I had to guess, the rest of the house would be much the same. Everything is generic and bland, appearing ready for anyone to move in.

A door is open, which leads into a tiled bathroom. I flip the light on and gasp when I see myself in the mirror. My hand reaches up to touch my face. I need to be sure that the reflection is me. I continue to step forward towards the vanity and mirror. As I move closer, I see a clearer picture of myself, and my eyes search, trying to find my 13-year-old self in my current self. The blood that is dried and caked around my nose and eyes makes it hard to form a clear assessment of what I see. My eyes used to be brighter. Now, the teal color has additional gold and blackspecks that flair outward around the pupil. My dark eyelashes only enhance the odd color. These eyes are harder, almost cold. They are no longer one of an innocent child who hated the color pink. My cheekbones are more defined, no longer hidden by the baby fat I couldn’t lose despite my mother’s best efforts. My hair is still the same dark, almost black, with a slight red sheen that seems new. The spell they added to keep my hair under control remains. Each curl seems nearly perfect despite the blood that cakes certain pieces. A lump forms in my throat as I continue to stare at myself.

I snoop through all the drawers until I find a pair of scissors and cut my hair piece by piece until it touches my shoulders, not wanting to see the long hair that I used to be forced to keep. A small smile lights my face when I finish. Next, I remove my hospital scrubs, wanting to see the rest of my body and memorize every scarred imperfection that lines it. I’ve never seen my adult form reflecting at me before, and it’s almost as if I can’t stop until I fully see myself.

My fingers run over every scar and imperfection on my body. I smile and feel proud of how much I have survived. My left shoulder is the worst of them all, which was created because I made a mistake that almost cost me my life. I learned so much from each mistake I made, more so than any victory. My finger traces the surrounding skin that knitted itself back together, making it resemble a spiderweb. The monster’s teeth shredded my shoulder. It was the first monster I had ever faced, and I was awkward and unskilled, but I still ended up victorious. Afterward, they carted me off to Dr. Vic’s lab for more injections before he placed me into the healing cells attached to his lab. A side effect of his injections had caused the skin between the scars on my shoulder to turn a bluish-purple hue.

My fingers move down to the claw marks over my ribs, and plenty of weapons have left their marks from training. Ilook forward to comparing scars and battle wounds with 203. Deciding I’ve wasted enough time, I walk into the shower and wash away the blood and grime. Showers didn’t happen often in the facility. Only when Dr. Vic couldn’t stand the smell of us anymore. My fingertips scrub my skin vigorously, and I know I’m leaving bruises. My body has never felt more clean as I wrap the fluffy gray towel around my body.

The clothes fit reasonably well, considering they were probably something he had lying around. I cannot picture Simon wearing sweats often. The pants are so long that I must roll them past my ankles to keep them from tripping me as I walk. I am sensing a pattern from Simon, who doesn’t believe in color. My eyes roll, yet a small smile stays on my lips. I am thankful because, from what they said last night, Marcus was on his way to finish the job. Well, not Marcus. He probably sent his lackeys to do his dirty work for him. Marcus doesn’t want to bloody his own hands, exactly like before. He hoped that the facility would have killed me long ago.

I open the bedroom door, walk down the stairs, and turn into the living room. Everything is cleaned up from last night. Everything from the white couch to the carpeted floor, there isn’t a drop of blood or a spec of dirt to be found. My eyes are drawn to the spot where I convulsed last night. “That’s not how it works!” Simon’s voice pulls me from my thoughts.

I shake off the heavy thoughts and turn to see the kitchen that attaches to the living room. Simon and Constantine are sitting opposite each other on a center counter-height island. Simon looks like he is about to scream at Constantine. They both hold coffee cups in their hands. Constantine leans his dark head towards Simon, his back facing away from me. “Oh, come on, Garnet! Hit me again with an awake spell.”

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