Page 140 of Through the Water

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Ariana

“There is love in me the likes of which you’ve never seen. There is rage in me the likes of which should never escape. If I am not satisfied in the one, I will indulge the other.”

-Mary Shelley, Frankenstein

There was a soft rap at the door. “Fifteen minutes.”

A sheen of cold sweat coated my face. I dropped to my knees again, retching violently in the small bathroom attached to the church nursery. I'd prayed for aneleventh-hourrescue, but this wasn't a movie or one ofmy beloved books.

After promising he’d get Killian to a safe place, Dean had led me back to my room, where I’d spent most of the night hugging the toilet. During the rare moments my eyes had drifted shut in exhaustion, I’d been plagued by disjointed nightmares.

In them, I was back inside the car again. Only, this time, it was sinking. The community pool had decayed into ruins, no longer recognizable as the place where Ashlynn had taught me to swim. Weeds sprouted through the cracked blue tiles, and thick, choking vines had taken over the diving board.

Murky black water swallowed the front of the convertible. I kicked and kicked but couldn’t free my legs from the windshield. Something brushed against my arm, and I opened my mouth to scream, inhaling a mouthful of inky sludge before everything went dark.

In another, I saw it. The creature was darkness itself, suspended motionless above me, watching through wide pupils. Its long tentacles unfurled, dancing toward me with an almost mesmerizing grace the likes of which I’d never seen before.

Surprisingly, I hadn’t been afraid.

Not at first. It wasn’t until I tried bringing my hand up as one brushed across my forehead, only to find I couldn’t move. A pale tentacle caressed my cheek before disappearing into one of my nostrils. Two more forced their way past my lips and down my throat, silencing my cries for help, as the car sank deeper.

I wasn’t alone.

Mama. Morgan. Ashlynn. Women I’d never even met before. Their bodies were buried in the muck, mouths transfixed in horror. And, at the very bottom—Killian. His eyes, now wholly gray, were fixed on mine. But he was dead. Just like the rest of them.

Needless to say, it hadn’t instilled a lot of confidence in what I was about to do.

I got sick again with a low groan before stumbling over to the sink to rinse my mouth and wash my hands. Someone had come and done my makeup and hair, but no beauty product could erase the look of terror from my eyes.

Dean was waiting on the other side of the door with a mint and a lifted brow. “You really don’t handle stress very well, do you?”

I took the mint from his hand with a weak smile and rasped, “Apparently not.”

He pinned a microphone to the thick cashmere scarf knotted around my neck. It was the only accessory effective in covering the bruises around my throat. Tristan had it delivered to my room just after dawn, along with a Ponte knit dress that fell just past my knees. My wounds were draped in black, completely hidden from view.

With my understated makeup and messy twisted chignon updo, I was the picture of elegant mourning.

“He’s ready to see you in his office,” Dean murmured, making a final adjustment to the device.

Fear coated my tongue, along with bitter aftertaste of vomit, but I managed a small nod. “And everyone is still safe?”

“Completely,” he reassured me. “Just remember what you came here to do.”

As if I had the luxury to consider anything else.

I slowly made my way down the hall, my heels clicking loudly against the stained concrete floor with each measured step. When I reached the familiar mahogany door, I stopped and waited for the surge of bravery to flood my veins.

There was nothing but a steady drip of terror.

I swallowed past the lump in my throat and rapped my knuckles against the wood.

“Come in,” Tristan said, using his preacher’s voice. When he saw it was me, there was a brief flash of venom in his eyes. “Ariana, sit.”

Blink. Blink.

I perched on the edge of a chair almost identical to the one in his office at the house. My hands were folded in my lap to mask the shaking.

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