Page 47 of The Darkest Half

Victor’s eyes fall on my own, and I notice something…different in his. I can’t seem to put my finger on what it is. Is he conflicted? Does he love me and isn’t sure how to word it in front of everybody else?

Something is off…

All I do know is that I’ll never allow myself to get involved with another man with so many fucking issues, a man who never really knew who he was or what he wanted in life. A man who went out of his way to put his brother and woman in each other’s paths hoping they’d fall for one another. So that he could wash his hands of a situation that he regretted getting himself into.

Who am I kidding? I’ll never be involved with another man because I know I’m not leaving this building alive.

“How was…she wrong?” I ask. “Enlighten me, why don’t you?”

“Because we are all human,” Victor says. “There’s no way to strip emotions from humans—especially love.”

Despite the unwanted audience, I scoff at the thought and ask the question anyway.

“What, are you saying you do love me?” I scoff again for good measure.

Victor nods. “Yes. I am in love with you, Sarai. Working so closely with you all this time left little room for denial or rejection of the feelings that grew inside me.”

“You’re full of shit,” I spit out the words. Why did he call me Sarai?

“Perhaps,” he says, paces past me one more time, and then stops. “I’m not here today to convince you of my love for you—I intend to rid myself of it, if anything. But I’ll ask you again what path you want to take. Because of my love for you, I’m giving you a choice.”

Suddenly, I notice movement to my right and turn my attention to James Woodard, who has risen from his chair. The expression on his face appears panicked.

He points in Niklas’ direction.

“Umm, forgive me for interrupting, but I think he’s stopped breathing.”

I flip my body to the other side so I can see Niklas clearly; the ceiling spins in my vision, and with the abrupt movement, I almost pass out.

James is right; I don’t see Niklas moving.

“Please! Somebody help him!” I try to crawl on my stomach over to Niklas, but I don’t get far as the weight and sharpness of Lysandra’s stiletto presses into my spine, pinning me against the floor.

“Let me go!” I try to wiggle around to push her off me, but I can’t move. I hate being so weak and helpless!

“Just be still,” Lysandra hisses. “Or you’re going to end up like him.”

“Get off me, bitch!”

It doesn't stop me from trying despite knowing I’m not going anywhere, but she still holds me effortlessly.

Victor motions at two men standing near the door.

“Take him to the infirmary,” he instructs, and his tone lacks the urgency needed to show he cares whether Niklas lives or dies.

This numbs me.

For a moment, I can’t think; I just lay here on the floor, watching these men carry Niklas away. My heart aches for him, hoping he will live, but I know too that even if he survives the effects of starvation, he likely won’t leave this building alive.

Finally, I look at Victor again.

“Don’t you even care?” I lash out; I want to come off this floor and hook my hands around his neck. “HE’S YOUR BROTHER!”

Victor says nothing.

“What happened to you, Victor?! You can’t tell me everything you felt for me, and your bond with Niklas was all just a lie! You can’t convince me that everything we went through, all the times you put your brother’s life before your own, everything that you and I shared and bled for, was just a performance! WHAT HAS HAPPENED TO THE VICTOR FAUST I KNEW AND LOVED?!”

And suddenly, amid the screams, blurry vision, pounding head, and bursting heart, I realize what I should have known all along.

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