Page 83 of What Is Dark Within Me

“She stopped breathing this morning,” Violet said. Her limbs were curled together, like she hadn’t noticed she was free. “He doesn’t know yet. He’s going to be so angry if there’s only one of us. They’ve been starving him for so long… waiting for the right moment to feed him.”

“Come on. I can carry you. We have to get into the woods.”

“It’ll find me,” she whispered. “No matter where I go, it’ll find me.”

“We’re going to get out of here, I promise, but I need your help. Do you trust me?”

Violet’s attention was elsewhere again, as if she truly was sleeping or lost in a dream. From overhead came the creak of metal scraping against wood. Aleja shoved the axe into Violet’s hand, though she knew in her heart her friend didn’t have enough strength to swing it. “Take this.”

Violet didn’t argue, nor did she seem to notice when Aleja scooted away to take cover behind an overturned piece of furniture. Please be Nicolas, she thought, but she knew it couldn’t be. Her palms were damp. It felt like something was putting tremendous pressure on her ribcage from the inside. If they didn’t return to one another soon, her body was going to tear itself apart.

A foul aura trickled down the stairs ahead of the thumping boots. Aleja was hit with another stomach cramp, but she sank lower, peering through a small crack in the table to watch a man enter the cellar.

You only have a moment. Make the right choice, said the voice.

She wished she’d thought to hide the broken zip ties, but a rudimentary plan came to her. A blast of fire to knock the man out of the way, hoping it wouldn’t bring the entire cabin crumbling down on the three of them. Then she would grab Violet and run.

“I’m sorry I’m late. There’s been a commotion,” the man said.

“Don’t be sorry. It’s a strange dream. Neither of us can control what happens,” Violet said. She drew her knees closer to her torso, but the man didn’t seem to notice she was no longer bound.

His gaze made its way around the room, as if he wanted to look anywhere but at the gaunt woman curled up before him. “If it could be any other way, we wouldn’t do this, you know that. You drank the well water, Violet. You drank it, and he chose you.”

“Yes, he chose me. And he wants me for… Wait. That’s not right. You’re a fucking liar. Your doctor sent me up here to die.” Violet’s voice petered out toward the end of her sentence, but she delivered the words with a strength that made Aleja believe—if only for a moment—that they might get out of here alive.

If her body didn’t kill her before then. The pain had moved into her chest, and it felt like someone was twisting her heart with a wrench. She readied herself. The scorching sensation was welcome now. Before she could rise to her feet and aim a torrent of fire at the man, Violet spoke again.

“Please, I need more of the water. So does Sadie. We were sick before we got here, remember?”

He considered her, moving closer. Dammit. Aleja wouldn’t be able to strike now without hitting Violet. The man reached into a satchel at his hip and drew a tin flask. “I’ve brought you some. We’re not monsters, Violet, no matter what you may believe. It won’t be much longer. He has begun to ask. Once he begs, you will join his dream completely.”

Violet reacted so quickly that Aleja jumped, knocking the tools on the wall by her side. Violet was too weak to swing the axe with any force, but at close range, she didn’t have to. The cleaver sunk into the man’s thigh and Aleja saw her opening. She pushed off the wall, aiming a torrent of flame in his direction. There was barely enough time to see the crease of surprise on his brow before he tumbled backward, enveloped in a sphere of fiery red.

“Go! Run,” Aleja shouted as she leaped over the table toward her friend. Violet’s limbs were skeletal. Even through loose pants, it was obvious how her leg muscles had atrophied.

“I can’t,” she moaned, but Aleja pulled Violet’s weight against her and together, they hobbled up the stairs.

“Sadie. She was my friend. She—” Violet tried to look back at the still body of the other woman, but Aleja knew what they would see. The room was dry. Even if there were wards on the cabin to prevent fire, they’d do little against Otherlander magic. A piece of wood snapped, then another. If the man was still alive, he didn’t have long. She’d seen the way his skin peeled back as her flames hit him.

Four deaths now, all on her bloody hands.

“She’s gone, Vi, I’m so sorry. If we don’t move now, we’ll be too.”

The cabin’s dust swirled around them like a fog as Aleja half-carried Violet to the door. It was a heavy, old-fashioned lock, forcing her to pull the latch several times before it finally popped open.

“My car is to the east. If we get separated, keep moving,” Aleja grunted, pulling Violet through the door with her.

“You are real,” Violet breathed. “You can’t… you shouldn’t be here. I have moments when I remember who I am, but… Don’t believe anything I say. I’m asleep, even when my eyes are open. I’m asleep right now.”

Violet trailed off. She was the first to notice the shadow spreading across the grassy path to the cabin.

Aleja sighed with relief, wondering how the hell she was going to explain that she’d brought the Knowing One with her on this ill-advised rescue mission. But as she looked up, she wasn’t met with a pair of silver eyes.

No—these eyes were hazel, almost gold. Dark blonde hair had come loose from its tie, framing his face like a halo. The mask he had worn hung from a loop around his neck, like a collar of small wings. If he hadn’t been a Dark Saint, he might have been an angel, surrounded by soft light like a Renaissance painting.

“Aleja. It’s good to see you again,” he said.

“It’s you,” she whispered.

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