Page 75 of In Death's Hands
“Nope,” she answers with a sneer.
“Okay.” I can respect that. I wouldn’t want people prying into my business either, after all. But… “Wait, does that mean you know when others feel those emotions?” My heart hammersin my chest when she acquiesces, desperately trying to escape the truth. “Huh.”
“I’ve never altered your emotions,” she says quickly. “In case you were wondering.”
“I wasn’t.” But I guess I should. Instead, I’m too busy going back through everything I’ve ever felt in her presence. Nathan had been there most of those times. And what she must have picked up from me… “Shit.”
“I felt the same things from him, you know.”
“What?” My palms become clammy as heat travels from my chest to my cheeks.
Turan looks at me knowingly. “And I had nothing to do with that either.”
It’s becoming hard to swallow. I don’t know what to do with this. When I recall his words, I know there is nothing to be done. Whatever Turan thinks she felt from him is either long gone or never was at all. Who knows how accurate their powers are anyway? And even if what she thinks she felt from him is true, then he clearly won’t do anything about it.
“You won’t feel it again, don’t worry,” I tell her as I get up. No chance I’ll go back to sleep now.
Turan snorts but lets it go, and I’m grateful. “Get dressed, we’re leaving for Celestina’s court soon.”
“What is she to you, anyway?”
Turan studies herself in the mirror to tidy her hair. “What do you mean?”
“There are four Crowns, right?” She nods, still not looking my way. “Aren’t Crowns supposed to be at the top?”
“Not really. Each Crown has its leader, but she unifies us. Makes sure we work as one. We owe her a lot.”
She finally meets my eyes in the mirror, and her solemn expression makes me wonder once again what it was like for them, what it’s still like not to remember anything but a traumatic awakening deep within the Earth.
I turn to the dresser, hoping to find something that will make me feel a little more confident than aflag. I don’t care what the prick said, I’m going to that meeting.
I find boxers and suits but nothing truly appropriate. “Any chance you packed something that could fit me?” I throw over my shoulder, but when I look back, Turan is gone. “You’ve got to be shitting me,” I mutter. I’m getting tired of their disappearing acts. Can’t they use a freaking door once in a while? And say, “See ya”? I would settle for a grunt goodbye at this point. I’m turning back to the dresser when a movement in the corner makes me jolt.
“Bloody hell,” I squeak, putting a hand on my chest when I recognise Nathan’s shadow. “Can’t you knock?”
The shadow pauses a second and its head lowers a fraction. Enough to appear somewhat remorseful. I sigh. They’re gonna drive me mad, the whole fucking lot of them. “What do you want?” I ask, reminding myself that Nathan must have sent it.
The shadow gestures to the bundle in its hands before putting it on the bed. I go to it and unfold a beautiful dark green dress with thin straps and a plunging V-neck. The skirt is made with sheer panels of tulle. There’s a lining under the panels to keep some things hidden, although it looks so short I wonder if it’ll even cover my ass completely. When I turn to Nathan’s shadow, it points a finger to the dress, then to me.
“Yes, I gathered thathewants me to wear it.” It seems Nathan heard me last night. On one subject, at least.
The shadow nods before taking a hesitant step towards me. To my surprise, I don’t move back. Its featureless face seems to be engrossed in mine. I don’t know how I know that it’s observing me when the space where its eyes should be is a swirling pit of black smoke, but I do. And it is. Or should it beheis? It’s so close that if it were breathing, I would feel its breath on my skin. Like a caress so desperately wanted, I almost feel its ghost on my eyelids, my lips. His hand comes up, and a tingly, cold sensation blooms as his fingers gently brush my cheekbone. The one I know from the quick check in the bathroom earlier is slightly swollen and blueish from a hit I hadn’t realised I took last night, when I was fighting for my life. One that wasn’t entirely healed by Turan’s treatment for some reason.
“I’m fine.”
His lips tighten in front of me. Did he always have lips? I could swear his face was a dark void before, but it seems that the more time I spend in his presence, the clearer he becomes. Like a veil slowly lifting. I take a step towards him, but this time he takes a step back. I focus my gaze on his face and find that those lips are the exact same shape as Nathan’s. I don’t know why I’m surprised. His shadow is in front of me, but I think I may have thought of them as different from one another. Two entities rather than one. Both filled with different thoughts and wants.
“Are you him?”
He nods, and I turn away, my grip a bit too tight on the dress. “Then you don’t care.” I walk to the bathroom and close the door behind me, ignoring the heat of his gaze on my back.
Going down the stairs is a challenge. In part because the dress is very long and my bare feet keep stepping on it, making me clutch the handrail for dear life. But mostly because each step downwards is a step closer tohim, and as childish as it makes me sound, I don’t want to.
I don’t want to see him, be near him or talk to him. I don’t want to be reminded of what his soft lips taste like or what being held by his strong hands made me feel. He’s so good at vanishing, I can only hope he’s pulled another disappearing act by the time I finally make it down these bloody stairs.
I huff and puff, all too aware of the racket I make in the echoey stairway. The walls are too bright and the marble floor waiting for my fall down below too shiny. I scowl at everything my eyes land on.
I need coffee. In an IV. And about two dozen ibuprofen pills.
