Page 9 of Visions of Darkness

The traditions Ellis taught each night were found in the great book. Aria knew that Valeen and Kreed had once been bound as mates before the world had fallen. But it was Kreed who’d led the world into wickedness when he’d turned on Valeen and sought her power for himself.

Tradition said she’d been devastated when he’d betrayed her. That his heart had been turned corrupt, and because of his greed, he’d brought every cruelty into the world.

She’d warred against him ever since, the Laven her chosen ones to fight.

“Be careful, my children,” Ellis continued. “Remember your calling. Your purpose. You may seek pleasure awake, a family and love and a normal life. But here? Here, you were born to fight.”

At that, their family all stood, and they paired off, taking each other by the hand.

Ellis stretched out a hand toward Josephine, his Nol who had fought by his side for their entire lives. Her movements were slowed by her age as she shuffled to him.

Dani’s Nol, Timothy, approached and took her hand, and she smiled softly up at him as he gave her a tight nod. A silent promise that they were in this together.

Aria’s spirit sang when Pax wound his fingers with hers, and she shivered as their souls entwined.

“Are you ready?” Pax rumbled in his gravel-cut voice.

Aria looked ahead of them as the pairs stepped into the heavy woods. Their essences lit, flashing in a brilliant light before they disappeared into the bowels of Faydor.

“I’m ready.”

With one last squeeze of her hand, Pax stepped forward and led them into the darkness.

Chapter Four

Aria

I awoke to the sound of my alarm blaring in my room. It was always disorienting, being yanked from one reality to another, but mornings like these were so much easier. When we’d fought through the night and the Kruen we’d encountered had not prevailed.

It was strange that I found rest during those hours. That when I awoke, I was renewed.

Pushing up on the side of my bed, I lifted my arms high and stretched, wincing at the zinging ache that still lancinated across my back. I was just thankful it was so much better than it had been yesterday.

Flicking on my bedside lamp, I pushed to standing and moved to the dressing-table mirror. I pulled the sweatshirt I’d worn to sleep in over my head, dropped it to the floor, and angled around so I could look at the bandage I’d made.

Blood saturated the material, and I knew it would probably be leaking for at least three more days.

I had no other choice but to change it.

I started to work it free, trying not to cry out at the awful sting peeling back the duct tape elicited. Using it was probably dumb, but I didn’t have a lot of options. I winced as I dragged it down, keeping mybreaths even and counting silently to distract myself from the heavy-duty adhesive pulling at my flesh.

Once I had it off, I angled back around to inspect the wound in the mirror.

It was a gaping cut caused by the fiery tendril of a Kruen, the ragged edges blackened and singed and oozing in the middle.

Revulsion curled in my stomach. Could I really blame my parents for their reaction when they’d seen my first wound? Because the injuries we sustained were truly horrifying.

I wondered how long it would be until I was completely covered in them. Our wounds and scars weren’t visible in Tearsith—I supposed offered as a form of reprieve—but I could only imagine what Ellis and Josephine would look like if I saw them walking in the day.

Blowing out a sigh, I climbed onto my knees so I could dig under my bed to find the small box of medical supplies I kept there, the same as I’d done yesterday morning. They were hidden behind plastic organizers filled with the remnants of the hobbies I’d had through the years. Each was something my mother had tried to get me interested in with the hope to distract me from myimaginaryfriends.

I found the shoebox tucked behind a trumpet and a box full of yarn and needles from my stint in crocheting. Sitting on the floor, I pulled off the lid and found the nearly empty bottle of hydrogen peroxide, a small pair of medical scissors, the half roll of duct tape I’d snagged from my father’s supply in the garage, the scraps of a torn-up tee, and an empty container of medical tape.

God, what I would do for that right now.

Since I didn’t have any gauze left, either, I opened the bottle of peroxide and poured it directly down my back.

My flesh sizzled, the pain so sharp it punched the air from my lungs.

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