Page 6 of Barely Breathing

Chapter

Two

Costin’s underground home is disorientating. I see hallways and doors stretching into shadows but have never explored them. I’m too afraid to look. It is based underneath Manhattan to keep him safe from daylight, but it doesn’t feel like it.

The last time I was here, I found electric lights behind the curtains, mimicking peeks of daylight. I can’t imagine what it would be like never to see the sun. The mirage must feed his nostalgia, even if it’s not real.

Perhaps there is a part of him that longs for the humanity he lost long ago. Or maybe it’s just another form of control—creating artificial day and night at his whim.

Maybe I keep trying to ascribe human emotions and motivations to amaster vampire.

After feeling his cold touch and seeing how he looks at me... I’m not sure what’s more dangerous, believing he feels nothing or believing he feels too much.

The elevator has one direction: up. It opens to a marble foyer that reminds me of the inside of a large mausoleum with cold stone and soft light. I pause long enough to change out of the nightgown into my clothes. I open the elevator and toss the nightgown into the corner.

The silence is so deafening that my shoes sound too loud as I cross toward an oak door. As I pull the heavy door open, I’m surprised to see bright daylight. I would have guessed it was the middle of the night since the vampires downstairs are awake.

My mind is cloudy from being mesmerized for so long. I’m not sure what to feel. Costin should not have done that, but I’m used to supernaturals living by different rules and doing what they want. They don’t see things the same way humans do. My entire life, I’ve been forced to flow in the direction of others’ whims. My parents claim it’s for my protection because my family has a lot of supernatural enemies.

My family’s legacy is a web of magic and expectation, one I’ve never been able to untangle myself from. My father’s power is legendary, but my humanbirth mother was one of his many affairs. I take after Lorelai.

They say all families have issues.

My brother Anthony inherited their magic, and even my adopted human brother Conrad—as flawed as he was—had found ways to harness it before his death. And me? I’m the mortal afterthought.

Until recently.

Ever since I subdued Draakmar and faced the labyrinth challenge, I think they’ll look at me differently.

My adoptive brother Conrad betrayed me in the worst way by trying to set me up for multiple murders. Though Conrad is dead, his angry spirit still lingers—literally. He has been haunting me, appearing to give me threats as a constant reminder of his treachery.

No, that’s not right.Lingered. Past tense. A necromancer’s magic now imprisons Conrad’s angry spirit.

The heavy oak door of Costin’s home closes behind me with a decisive thud that seems to echo into eternity. I pinch the bridge of my nose and remind myself to breathe. My brain is still skipping around. Being mesmerized for a week has taken a toll.

I feel as if I’ve surfaced from a dream. Aroundme, the city is alive, and people pass without a clue as to what is happening beneath them. I think of Costin’s home, of the paranormal creatures hiding in the supernatural city below, infesting caverns and old subway tunnels.

I go toward the sound of traffic under the shadows of skyscrapers that make the morning feel earlier than it is. Even the familiar commotion of Manhattan feels different today. A street vendor’s coffee cart provides momentary cover as I pause to get my bearings. Anxiety gnaws at my stomach. I feel like someone is watching me, but I don’t see them.

Each step pulls me further from Costin’s intoxicating presence and deeper into a pit of doubt. I want to tell myself I’m crazy, that I’m okay, but I know better.

I shouldn’t feel safer alone on the streets, but I do. Or at least, I want to. I touch the amulet at my neck for comfort. I can be injured, but no one can kill me. Don’t ask me to explain why vampires can’t bite me, even if they don’t intend to kill me. I’m not going to question it too closely. I can assume it’s because their bite is death or some such reason. It’s not like my education covered these details. My tutor focused more on the just-don’t-get-bit-or-you’ll-be-dead lessons.

Draakmar stirs restlessly through the stone as ifdeath isn’t the worst fate I should fear. I hope the creature can’t feel my annoyance with his constant interruptions. I mean, he is keeping me alive.

Costin’s distant voice lingers in my mind. “You’re safer with me, Tamara. You know that.”

When Costin’s home is no longer in sight, I lift my phone to call for a car. I wait near the side of a building, trying not to draw attention to myself. A man passes with some kind of hybrid fluffy poodle, and all I can think of is werewolves. I stare at the dog until they disappear from view.

My ride pulls up, and the driver says nothing as I slip into the backseat. I rest my forehead against the window to watch the scenery as we pass through traffic. The sounds of car horns and squeaking brakes are so familiar they’re comforting. Even the half-dressed lady shouting obscenities into the street feels normal in the city.

My mind drifts, and I have no idea how long it takes us to arrive at the Devine penthouse. My thoughts loop between Paul and Costin. Paul, whose warmth feels like safety. Costin, whose darkness feels like an inevitability.

The driver stops in front of my building. Seconds after stepping out of the car, I can’t remember if I thanked him. The doorman holds open the door. I hear him saying my name, and I try to give an automatic answer. By the time I cross the penthouselobby to step inside the elevator, my mind prickles with the weight of too many unanswered questions.

Why did the werewolves take Paul?

Why did Costin mesmerize me for so long?

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