Page 44 of Entity

“Why?” I choke. “Eros didn’thavea soul.”

“He did,” Orpheus says quietly. “You recognized in Eros what Ian was blind to. He was so much more than a machine. And if I hadn’t fed on him, I would have lost control, and you would be dead.”

Hot tears sting my eyes. “You’re a fucking monster.”

“Congrats,” Ian says weakly from the floor, clearly with great effort. “Took you long enough.”

A wave of inexorable rage crashes over me. Ian’s face, the smug twist of his mouth, is so hateful that my skin itches with it. My blood boils. I remember the way he told me we were friends, equals, the way he gushed about my blog, the way he kissed me. It was all a lie. It was all a trap, and Eros is dead, and it’s all Ian’s fucking fault.

“Shut thefuckup, Ian.” I’m vibrating with fury, and I let the feeling overtake me. “You invited me here to die. You knew I would go to Orpheus. You fucked me, knowing your interdimensional pet was going toeatme. You’re beyond redemption, dickhead. Orpheus may be a monster, Ian, but monsters can be tamed. Your soul is rotten to the fucking core. And I don’t think it’s going to taste very good.”

Orpheus turns to me, his eyes darker than I’ve ever seen them. And Ihatethat I don’t hate him, that I’m still drawn to him, monstrous as he is. That he feels like home.

“Well?” I prompt, jerking my head toward Ian. “Finish him off.”

Orpheus suddenly rushes Ian, moving unbelievably fast, crouching over his body, his broad shoulders hunched. I turn away, heading for the door. I don’t want to see whatever Orpheus does to a human; I don’t want to think about what he did to Eros. I don’t want to think about anything. Even though I’m sure I’ll spend the rest of my life yearning for a voice, a touch, a soul I can’t have, I have to leave him behind. I have to get the fuck out of here.

As I pass through the threshold into the corridor, I hear Ian grunt once, a low, hoarse sound. And then there is nothing but silence.

18

My pulse roarsin my ears, adrenaline rushing in my veins. Too-bright light glares down as I grab the door. I move to slam it shut behind me, to lock Orpheus inside.

I almost make it.

The door is nearly shut when Orpheus’s hand shoots through the gap, fingers clamping around the edge. His impossible strength wrenches the door open, and I stumble at the force of it. I never stood a chance.

He says he won’t hurt me. But my instincts kick in, and I spin on my heel. I try to run.

But before I can take more than one step, Orpheus’s arm snakes around my middle and jerks me backward, slamming me hard against his chest. I scream, kicking, trying to get away. But his strength is inhuman. And I know deep down, even as I wrestle against his hold on me, that this is it. I’ll never leave this vault. I’ll never see Los Angeles again. I’ll never watch the sun set over the ocean. I’ll never stand under the rain. Just like Eros and Ian, these concrete walls and fluorescent lights will be the last thing I ever see.

“Orpheus,” I beg, a last, weak attempt. “Please let me go.”

“Stop,” he says, calm but firm. His breath ruffles my hair. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

I don’t think I believe that. I don’t know. Iwantto believe it. I’m desperate,dyingto believe it.

I realize there’s no point in struggling. I fall still, breathing hard.

“Kit.”

He speaks my name like a resonant spell. And as that single syllable sears me, he takes hold of my jaw from behind, forcing me to still.

I close my eyes tight, waiting for whatever comes next. Will he break my neck? Will he devour me?

My vision wavers. And it comes to me. The obvious, the glaring elephant in the room. Can I do it? Can I grasp the filamental threads of an unseen, impossible power, and stitch together an escape out of pure stubborn desperation?

I have to try.

Orpheus says something, his breath hot on my ear. But I’m not listening.

Because I’m focused on the air in front of me. I’m remembering how it felt every time the world fell out from under me, when my body glitched and flickered in the darkness, when the mirage opened up before me. I’m remembering the sensation, the sound, how my skin seemed to tighten, my body crushed under the pressure. I reach out for those shadowy figures from another dimension, the needle-like buildings, the dreams I half remember, faraway places I yearn for and could never reach. Until now. I call for them, pulling, clawing them toward me inch by inch.

Let me go.

Orpheus’s fingers tighten against my jaw.

And then—

---