Page 1 of Revenant

Chapter One

RUE

They’re coming.

Wake up.

Wake. Up.

WAKE UP!

I bolt upright with a gasp, my heart thudding erratically against my ribs, the whispers of too many ghostly voices talking over each other still ringing in my ears. My first thought is of the guys—they finally came for me after months of silence. Though I should be pissed, I’m thrilled at the prospect of seeing them again, nearly giddy with the excitement.

Yet, after searching my sterile room, only darkness awaits me, the guys nothing more than a figment of my imagination. It’s enough for me to flop back onto the bed and drag the covers over my head.

The squeak of sneakers echoing down the hallway is the only thing that stops me from drowning in despair, and I blink away the sting in my eyes when it feels like I’ve lost the guys all over again. Now is not the time for a pity party.

If an orderly is coming to collect me, I might finally be allowed to leave my stint in solitude. One mistake could mean another week of isolation if I don’t start acting like the perfect lobotomized patient.

Unfortunately, the guys aren’t so easily dismissed from my mind, and the lump in my throat refuses to be banished.

Even after three months of disappointment, the truth is still crushing.

Apparently, they made their decision.

They aren’t coming.

I shy away from even thinking about my nan. The crazy old woman is the only bright spot in my past. She’s probably frantic with worry at my disappearance. I just hope she doesn’t do anything foolish, like trying to confront my father. If he hurts her…I’ll kill him.

Refusing to wallow in my misery, I throw back my covers and drag my legs over the side of the bed. With a groan, I clutch my aching ribs, then gingerly probe the area.

Nothing makes you forget your grief better than physical pain.

The area is bruised, but nothing is broken, no thanks to the three masked men who barged into my room for a late-night visit. They yanked me from my bed, and I barely had the chance to curl up into a ball before they proceeded to beat the crap out of me.

The beating only lasted fifteen minutes, but a lot of damage can be done in that time if a person knows what they’re doing. I suspect the men were disturbed when I didn’t cry out or fight them. I might have even smiled, excited to try out the new tricks I’ve learned with my abilities.

I mean, what else is a girl to do when she spends nearly twenty-four hours a day by herself and an unending supply of ghosts?

My glee might have frightened the big babies, and they left sooner than expected. I didn’t get to torture them even a little. It’s hard not to pout. At least they were careful not to touch my face, keeping most of the damage to a surface level only, meaning I am sore as fuck but able to breathe and walk without assistance.

It was all very deliberate, each blow inflicted for maximum pain, the midnight visit timed to induce the most fear. If I hadn’t grown up with regular beatings and intimidation tactics, it might have even worked.

Instead, it came off as a rather pathetic attempt.

The attackers don’t work at the sanitarium—I would have recognized their size and shape—which means Father dearest hired them specifically for me. Some kids receive hugs and gifts, while my father sends thugs. He’s sweet like that.

It wouldn’t do for me to become too comfortable or acquire any new-fangled ideas, like the notion that I could ever escape his tender mercies.

Even though he hates me with every fiber of his being, he wouldn’t risk killing me.

Not yet anyway.

I haven’t suffered enough.

I didn’t even bother to cry out for help during the beating.

None would come.

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