Page 10 of Bound By Darkness

Without consciously deciding to, I feel myself lean closer to him. It’s my body’s reaction to him—subconscious action not meditated thought. Immediately, I shake off the reaction, scared Cambion will reject me just like he always does. I adjust my posture and take a step back, feeling his eyes on me all the while.

“Where’s Dragan and Flumph?” I ask in a hesitant voice.

He shrugs. “I don’t know.” Then, nodding to Baron, he says, “This is a problem.”

I approach the vampire and study him. He definitely appears as if the stone is taking its toll. His skin is lackluster and gray.

“He’s still in the visionary state,” Cambion explains on an exhale. I’m surprised he’s even bothering talking to me, but then I figure maybe it’s owing to the fact that I’m the only one here.

“Is that bad?” I ask.

He nods. “I was nervous something like this could happen. For all their power, these stones are also dangerous. It’s not uncommon for some to fall victim to the power of the visions, getting lost in the past.”

“You’re saying Baron could get stuck like this forever?” I shake my head at the thought. “Why didn’t you mention this before?”

Cambion shrugs again. “Do you think it would have stopped him?”

I know it wouldn’t have. Baron’s need for answers regarding his past is rivaled only by mine.

Cambion continues, “Knowledge is addicting. Baron may very well choose never to return to consciousness again.”

The weight of the new information settles like an anvil in my stomach and worry blossoms deep within me. I care about Baron, and I don’t want to see anything bad happen to him.

“We can’t let that happen!”

“We might not have much of a say,” Cambion says as he runs his hands through his hair and sighs audibly.

His ambivalence only heighten my response. “We have to wake him up!” I nearly cry out.

I hear a soft crunch and turn to see Dragan emerge from the woods holding an enormous pile of kindling and logs. Flumph enters the scene behind him, dragging a single twig against the ground like it weighs more than he’s capable of carrying.

Dragan’s eyes find Baron and I notice them squint but I’m not sure if his expression is one of worry. He looks at me for a moment, but quickly averts his gaze before dumping the pile of wood and returning to the cover of trees once more. Flumph adds his own twig to the pile and then lies down beside it, panting and wiping the sweat from his brow.

“Whew!” he hollers, his tinny voice slicing through the thin air of the forest.

Cambion’s eyes lazily drift from Flumph to settle on mine once more. “We can’t wake Baron,” he warns, “it’s too dangerous. He has to come out of the visionary plane on his own. He is the one who must make that choice.”

“And if he doesn’t?” I press.

Cambion walks away from me, his long strides stirring up leaves on the ground. He picks up the rock he’d thrown earlier and turns it over in his hand. After gazing at it thoughtfully for a moment, he allows it to fall to the ground once more.

“Fuck,” he says under his breath before he continues his walk further into the forest.

I stare at Baron.

The stone is having an effect on him and not a good one. He’s still handsome, of course, but his clean-shaven face is paler than usual. And his hair, cut short to his scalp, doesn’t seem as dark as it usually does. The gray streaks along his temples seem more pronounced somehow. A narrow white scar bisects histhick eyebrows, ending just above his left eye. His eyes are the most unique shade of blue I’ve ever seen—almost violet—and I suddenly yearn to see them again.

His eyes are working furiously beneath the cover of his eyelids, but the rest of his face is soft and relaxed. He holds the stone out in front of him, almost in offering. I’m tempted to touch him again, despite Cambion’s warnings.

But, I want to see what Baron’s seeing, to understand what it is that’s keeping him prisoner in this vision. I can’t tear my eyes from him and it’s with mounting frustration that I observe him. I’m worried—I don’t like the way his eyes shift underneath his eyelids. His mouth twitches every once in a while, and I find myself, again, having to fight the need to touch him, to try to pull him away from whatever vision is keeping him immobile.

I’m distracted by the fact that I’m no longer alone.

Figuring Dragan must have returned, I whip around to ask him how I can assist, but stop in my tracks. It’s not Dragan who stands before me, but a man. Though I haven’t seen him before, I somehow recognize him all the same.

I realize I should be afraid, but instead I feel calm—much calmer than I did mere moments before. I regard the man with interest, but not necessarily fear.

His body is partially obscured by the thick trunk of a tree and fog coalesces around him. He seems to exist as one with his surroundings, exemplified by the fact that it appears his body is merging with the tree behind him. Only to then separate again. I blink in rapid succession, because it feels like my eyes are deceiving me.

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