Page 37 of Ethereally Redeemed

“I decided two days would be enough to handle him. You didn’t deliver,” he looms above me, spit flying out of his mouth as he speaks.

“I didn’t fucking know! You said I had five,” I cough when he punches my face, making my head fly to the side from the sheer impact. I don’t think to reach for the gun—they would just disarm me in seconds.

“Like I said, I changed my fucking mind.”

He jerks his head toward me, and the other two men approach. Without another word, they pounce on me, fists raining down. I’m unable to do anything to fight back as I’m lying on the ground. They’re three against one, and the odds aren’t in my fucking favor. Sickness spreads through me at the thought, irritation and anger twisting inside me. I manage to kick one of them away, but the other grabs my leg and twists ituntil I grunt from the pain. He releases it before it can break, but the nausea from the agony has already begun to set.

Life flashes before my eyes, and I do my best to fight them off me, but I stand no chance against three grown fighters. They throw punch after punch with disdain, spitting and kicking at me mercilessly. I can do nothing but endure their brutal assault, feeling utterly pathetic for being this weak.

“You shouldn’t have fucking come back, Fury,” Vortex growls, disdain evident. “This is our territory.”

One final punch sends me reeling, darkness creeping in at the edges of my vision. All I can see are the clouds up in the darkened sky spinning around, my eyes unable to keep open as I drift off into unconsciousness. I don’t know how long I lie there, my nose bleeding and my entire body aching. It must have been a while, because they’ve long since left, leaving me for dead with no intention of keeping me alive.

The clouds shift, drifting with the moon, while the trees whistle and dogs bark far off in the distance. It must take hours before I manage to roll onto my stomach, straining to listen for any sounds around me. They’re far off, and I summon every ounce of strength to rise, stumbling the last mile toward the abandoned train tracks in the hope of making it home.

Unconsciousness creeps into the edges of my vision once again, and I know I won’t be able to handle it much further.

No one follows me, but the pain spreads through me in agonizing waves, causing me to lose my footing. Darkness descends as I collapse onto the cold, rusted tracks. In those final moments, as consciousness slips away entirely, regret overwhelms me for not informing Naya of where I was headed.

Chapter 14

Naya

The sense of lonelinesswashes over me as I slowly wake up. The prickling sense that something is off fills me, but I cannot explain what it is.

Coldness seeps through my bones as I blink my eyes open, my breath creating small puffs of fume in the air. It’s freezing in this house, with no electricity to keep the heat. The eerie silence descends, amplified without the presence of someone breathing or snoring beside me.

The room is empty, with Grey nowhere to be seen. The trembling of my body increases at that realization, and I let my gaze roam over the room, hoping that he’s somewhere in here. Maybe he’s smoking by the window, but he’s not, and a heavy weight settles in my chest.

His jacket is gone as well from where he left it hanging on the weathered wardrobe the day before.

My muscles protest in response as my feet meet the floor, chilling my bones more, as if a curse spreads from my battered soles directly to my head.

It feels as if a rug has been swept underneath my feet when I see that the broken chair leg has been removed from its secured spot under the door. I instantly rush toward it. Peeking my head out, I glance left and right, and the sinking dread floods me tenfold.

This house feels ominous in the dead of the night, with its cracked, barren walls and ancient paintings hanging on them, reminding me of Grimhill Manor. I swallow what feels like molten lava scorching my insides, forbidding myself fromremembering the slightest inkling of that place and its doll master.

With every step down the stairs, the floorboards creak, and the sense of being watched crawls over me; a prickling sensation starting from the base of my neck and spreading like wildfire through my cells. It’s a feeling that’s been following me ever since we left the Dollhouse, on the run for our lives.

Has the authorities caught up to us? Have they finally found out who the culprits are of the fire? Or have they realized who I am? The woman on the run after killing her mother in cold blood.

Oh God, how could I have been so stupid as not to notice when Grey left the bed?

I glance toward the dark kitchen with minimal furniture, hosting a refrigerator and freezer which don’t work because of the lack of electricity. Past the kitchen is the living room. I see the silhouette of a couch in the middle of the room, with a coffee table before it. A large clock stands closest to the kitchen, but the darkness makes it hard to make out anything else.

I breathe deeply, hoping to find Grey as soon as possible.

Movement catches the corner of my eye, moving silently through the living room with an ominous presence that makes my insides turn to ice from how much colder it’s suddenly become.

Staggering backward, I stare into the darkness, mouth parted in shock and terror. Every nerve in my body is on edge, waiting for something horrible to occur.

“Grey?” I whisper, hoping, praying, wishing it’s him.

My eyes must be playing tricks on me, but the moment the thought hits me, I swear I notice a shadow moving deeper into the space, on the other side of the house from where I stand. Fear wants to paralyze me, making every muscle in my body strain with the fight-or-flight instinct. I force myself to take acalm step backward.

The only audible noise is my own breathing ringing loudly in my ears, silence greeting me otherwise.

No one is there, Naya.

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