My mind blurred at the corners. Canto had begged Kane to return to hell, insisted that the time was ripe for another rebellion. He would have no reason to betray the demon prince to Lucifer, unless he’d played us.
No.
There was no chance. He swore secrecy. Canto was Team Kane all the way. Loyal and true, like Josie and Dantalion. Lucifer had to have located Kane another way.
Nightmare Kane released a cry of pain that cut through the quiet like a shard of glass. The intensity rattled my bones. I knew this wasn’t real, yet I couldn’t help but feel the raw anguish as though it was really happening, not just to him, but to me.
“I didn’t do this to you,” I insisted. “This is Lucifer’s revenge.”
The tendons in Kane’s neck popped as he strained against the pain. “I knew we were wrong for each other. I should have listened to Josephine and left you alone.”
Alone.
I didn’t want to be left alone, not by Kane or anybody else. Not anymore. Now that I knew what life could be like, that I was capable of lowering my drawbridge and letting others in…
I blinked away tears. I couldn’t go back to the way things were before. That wasn’t a life; it was an existence.
“Emotions can’t hurt you,” I reminded myself, channelingmy inner West. “Feelings are feedback.” And right now, my feelings were telling me that I’d grown to love Kane more deeply than I ever imagined.
Warmth washed through me. It flooded the negativity, drowning it until the critical voices were completely deprived of oxygen and fell silent.
The image of Kane dissipated like the illusion that it was. A Kane of the past, not the present and certainly not the future. I would see to that.
The darkness returned to smother me, signaling that the trial wasn’t over yet, not that I thought it would be so simple. Kane was only the appetizer. The tremor in my knees told me I was about to be served the main course.
“Let the next nightmare commence,” I announced. I would show no fear. I refused to give Lucifer the satisfaction.
Nothing happened. I stood in night’s bubble, aware of one singular, deafening sound—the pounding of my heart.
I tapped an imaginary watch, “Show’s running late, boys! Time to pull back the curtain.”
I stepped forward and heard the crunch of glass beneath my foot. I crouched down and touched the hard surface. Not glass. Ice.
As my eyes adjusted to the new surroundings, I realized I was standing on the precipice of a familiar body of frozen water.
Bone Lake.
My breathing hitched as my gaze snagged on a figure in a red coat across the lake. A splotch of blood on a pristine surface.
“Aite,” I yelled at the top of my lungs.
She waved her arms. “Help!”
The terror in her voice propelled me forward. A cracking sound alerted me to the fissure I’d formed beneath my feet. I halted, one boot hovering in the air.
“Help,” Aite cried again. “Please!”
Please.
Birdie’s voice rang out in my head, intermingled with Aite’s.
“I need you!” Aite shouted.
Her words galvanized me into action. I tiptoed across the lake to avoid putting my full weight on the ice. I wasn’t sure what kind of help Aite needed. She was able to use her arms and legs, as well as her voice, but she made no move to meet me halfway.
It didn’t matter. Illusion or not, I’d failed her once; I refused to do it again.
“I’m coming,” I assured her. “Wait there.”