Page 25 of Memories Like Fangs
This impostor’s mouth was stretched into a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. Her teeth were too white, too perfect. On her stolen face, there was hunger along with amusement and pure malice. Her cousins standing behind her held mirror images of her wrongness. They were more twisted, darker, andoff. Even Cooper held more danger than he normally did.
No.
No, this isn’t right.
This can’t be them.
Thiswasn’tthem.
This was worse than any deja vu or even a nightmare.
This was my own personal hell.
Before I could say anything to these obvious knock-offs of my girlfriend and her family, I had to arch my back and pull from my holders, who gripped me tightly in place. In four spots on my back, what felt like massive shards of glass were exploding out. To be ripped into four quarters would have been a mercy instead of feeling this. I knew this was my dragon threatening to surface just like she had before, but this was so very different. It was faster than before, hitting me all at once. There was no reassuring voice or presence from her. She wasn’t doing it to protect me. And, there would be no Pops to talk me down or Talli to cast a Forget-Me-Maybe spell to save me.
I screamed so loudly I feared if I would have a voice to speak ever again. The pain stole everything from me, including my ability to just let go and pass out. It was alive, holding my eyesopen and forcing my consciousness to stay afloat and not sink into the dark. Every part of me shook like I was being electrified, and I wish I were. I wanted this to end. I wanted to give in to the pain but this agony wasn’t letting me. It hurt so much worse than it did before. This was torture.
Quinn laughed darkly and evilly. Her voice was nothing like the smoky gold that I adored. No, when she spoke, her voice was a distorted and broken version of the real thing. It would have sent a chill down my spine if I weren’t wishing for death to take me. “Do you want to end this, Byrdie?”
“Please! Make it stop! Make it stop hurting!” I have no idea how I was able to speak. I could barely even scream. My voice certainly didn’t sound like my own. I didn’t even feel my lips move as those words rasped out from somewhere.
“Anything for you, Sweetness,” The evil Quinn said, smiling even wider with that sick grin that was so unlike her true, real self.
Then, she stabbed me in the heart.
When I woke up, I was gasping, my chest heaving like I had just finished running at least three marathons back-to-back. My sobs were cold rivers running down my cheeks. Every inch of me was drenched in a cold sweat, my clothes clinging uncomfortably to my skin alongside the blood. The cellar around me spun sickeningly, a blur of unfamiliar colors and shapes that refused to come into complete focus. Bile scorched my throat worse thanany fire or lava. My heart hammered against my ribs, wild and frantic. Even without the restraints holding me to the chair, my arms, legs, and whole body felt thick and heavy with gravity and weight. I struggled to tell if I was still dreaming or had only fallen into some waking nightmare.
For a terrifying moment, I didn’t remember my own name, let alone where I was.
“Hmm, well, you lasted much longer than I thought you would, little Byrdie. How very fascinating,” Lilah said, her head tilted to the side as she sat on the table across from me.
“Wh-what was that?! What did you do to me?!” I stuttered breathlessly. I couldn’t get a breath in, and I could hear the wheezing. My muscles still hurt. The ghost of the wound in my stomach and the one from my wings trying to come in too quickly burned alongside all of my present wounds. If anything, it intensified their agony. Lilah’s blood magic clinging to the gash in my shoulder only made things worse. Writhing like a nest of hungry leeches, the smoky blood magic drank from my still bleeding wounds. It was greedy and relentless, keeping the wound open enough to siphon off my strength. It was careful, calculated. I could feel that it wasn’t enough to kill me, just enough to keep me tethered to the edge of collapse.
That wasn’t real.
That wasn’t real.
But why did it feel so real?
“Did you like all of that?” Lilah smiled smugly. “Blood is an interesting thing. Sure, it’s life-saving and all of that bullshit. But, more importantly, blood carries history. It has your DNA, the very essence of who and what you are. It possesses your past. All of that trauma, illness, where you have been, everything is remembered by your blood. It has a better memory than your brain, even. And, it’s just as easy to manipulate.”
My jaw dropped. “You can fuck with my memories?!”
“See! I knew you were smart! I can’t change what you remember exactly, but I can changehowyou remember them if I want. Oh, and it’s way more fun to twist them a bit.”
“What in the absolute fuck, you crazy bitch?”
“Such language! Do you kiss your little Hunter Princess with that mouth? I’m sure we’re going to find out, huh?” Lilah wiggled her eyebrows like this was all just some sick joke. “Of course, if you want to end this, all you have to do is tell me where just one of your parents is from. I don’t need both of them. Only one would do. Pick your least favorite. Personally, I would choose my father, but that might just be my daddy issues talking.”
Through gritted fangs and teeth, I snarled. “I already told you.I. Don’t. Know.”
Lilah’s lips turned into a frown instantly, her mood snapping so quickly it gave me whiplash while sending a chill of trepidation down my spine. “Why are you so invested in protecting folks who are already dead? They don’t need you to be a hero! They don’t need you at all! They are dead already! They won’t care! How could they?”
“You don’t get to talk about my parents,” I hissed, baring my fangs toward her.
Rolling her eyes, Lilah jumped down from the table. She crossed her arms as she approached me. “Cut the fucking theatrics, Byrd. I’m not insulting your precious mommy and daddy. Just tell me what I want, and then this can all be over.”
“I already told you I don’t know. We didn’t talk about where Mama grew up or where Pops was born, okay? I don’t even know my grandparents’ names!”
