Page 19 of Revenant

Humans are predictable. I know what to expect from them. Each of the twenty or so people trapped here could lash out and seriously hurt me in ways that I won’t see coming. How do you protect yourself against something you can’t see or touch? Fists are easy to dodge…invisible assailants would be impossible.

I scan the patients, trying to decipher what abilities they might wield…and come up with fucking nothing.

I like to think I would be able to tell if anyone has the same ability to communicate with the dead, but I can’t pick up anything. I’m not sure if I should be relieved or disappointed. The ages of the patients range from kids as young as fifteen or sixteen to some who are older than my nan.

One or two have a slight golden glow around them, but the shimmer is tarnished. More than a few are surrounded by a murky cloud, much like muck you would find underwater after the silt is stirred up. Tiny dark specs float around them, looking like parasites when a few of them wiggle and squirm, and I turn away when my stomach churns in warning.

That’s when my eyes lock on Jaceson.

I’m not even aware I’ve been unconsciously—or maybe not so unconsciously—looking for him. Not wanting to give away that we know each other, I purposefully didn’t seek him out right away.

Everything around me ceases to exist when I see him sitting at the far table, his broad shoulders achingly familiar. My fingers ache to sink into the messy blond strands of his hair, the darker roots making the tips even brighter. I swear I can smell sunshine and outdoors by looking at him, and my throat tightens painfully.

Just as I take a step toward him, drawn to him like a moth to a flame, a girlish laugh echoes across the near silent room, drawing my attention to a pretty, dark-haired girl around my age. She’s sitting on the tabletop, facing the room, her elbows on her knees, her playful expression so focused on Jaceson that she might as well stamp her claim on his forehead. What’s worse—she’s touching Jaceson, her fingers curling around his arm possessively.

A man who doesn’t even notice women is looking up at the girl…and he doesn’t brush away her hand.

No, he fucking smirks at her.

Something in my chest pinches and writhes uncomfortably, a monster seeking escape with only one thought—to destroy the threat. The oxygen in my lungs turns bitterly cold, my breath fogging the air, and I force myself to turn away before I accidentally lash out.

Jaceson isn’t mine, and I have no right to feel jealous.

I repeat that mantra over and over in my head, but the very thought tastes bitter.

Despite doing my best to put them out of my mind, the image of them is seared into my soul, and I walk blindly to the nearest table. The three people at the table stiffen when I sit, two guys and a girl, each looking at me with narrowed eyes.

I’m glad for the distraction.

It takes extra effort to shove Jaceson out of my thoughts and focus on the here and now.

Focus on the danger.

One of the guys is so skinny, it looks painful, his whole body appearing stretched, resembling a skeleton covered with an ashy layer of dark skin. His muted green eyes, combined with his dark complexion, give him a zombie-like appearance. Though he is a few years younger than me, one of the youngest in the room, his eyes contain an equal mixture of madness and despair that makes him feel ancient.

He looks so familiar that it takes my brain a few seconds to recognize him.

It’s Dallas…if he’d died at the age of sixteen, before he had a chance to fill out, and no one had bothered to bury him and just let him wander the earth.

No wonder Dallas has never felt like he fit in with the rest of the employees at the asylum. If what I suspect is true, the people who are admitted to the dungeon are reported as missing or dead. Dallas either gave his brother over to the asylum, thinking it would help him, which I find unlikely, or he’s working undercover to discover information about his brother.

I’m not sure which is more troublesome.

Either way, the warning he passed me about the doctor not being a good man before he disappeared is even more ominous.

The other man at the table is a good ten years older, his face haggard, his eyes a pit of pure darkness. It clashes alarmingly with his silver hair—not gray but a silky curtain of silver. Despite looking human, the air around him hums with tension, telling me he is something other.

What? I have no fucking clue, but he’s no longer completely human.

A tiny girl is tucked between them. Not that she needs the protection. Though she may look small and delicate, her bright green eyes contain a ruthless glimmer that warns a person to stay the fuck away. Her gold hair—not blonde, but pure gold—is tipped with what resembles black ink, like the strands were dipped in the darkest midnight. The wild curls give her a pixy look that invites a person to touch, but I suspect she wouldn’t hesitate to gnaw off anyone’s hand if they dared it.

It’s only when she smiles, her teeth looking very pointy and sharp, that I know I’m right. Menace oozes from her pores, something cold and dark that haunts the shadows. Though she might look all innocent and nice, she would bathe in the blood of her enemies and enjoy it.

To show my respect, I nod, a silent promise that I have no interest in fucking with them. The girl’s eyes widen slightly in surprise, then she purses her lips. “So, new girl, what did you do to earn your spot in the dungeon?”

As much as I want to watch Jaceson, I can’t afford to split my focus. Any hint of weakness, and I’ll find myself a target. The weak don’t survive in a place like this for long. I sigh and tap my lip as I contemplate my answer. “It could be that after getting kicked out of three different asylums, they decided to put me somewhere where I can’t terrorize the staff anymore. Or it could be that I refuse to bow to their rules, even when they drug and beat me. Or maybe it’s because I freak them out whenthey discover I know their deepest, darkest secrets, things that they’ve never told anyone else.”

The older man doesn’t look away from me, but the younger two exchange glances. I didn’t exactly tell them the truth, but I didn’t lie either. The last thing I want is for people to discover the full extent of my abilities. More than a few people in the room are listening—people who would sell me out in a heartbeat.

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