Page 113 of Blood

I’m burning.

Every inch of my skin is on fire, the blistering flames eating me alive, cocooning me in smoke, infiltrating my airways. Tears burn my eyes, and I squeeze them shut in order to quell the rapidly growing pain.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

What did you do to me, Balor?

I swear to all that is holy, if you chose to kill me after I’ve already been killed, I’ll be so pissed.

And then, in a soft, lyrical voice, Violet whispers, “Mason?”

I force my eyes open, blinking rapidly to clear the grit and ash that seemed to have congregated there.

Violet remains crouched beside Balor, but she’s no longer looking at him. She’s peering at me—right at me. Not over my shoulder. Not through my body. Not off in the distance.

Her brilliant blue eyes clash with my green ones, and time seems to stand still.

Every tense muscle in her body strains with reluctance as she places a hand over her mouth. More tears flow down her cheeks, falling faster and faster with every second that passes.

“Mason?” Vin’s croaky voice drags my attention off the girl I love and toward my best friend. His normally olive complexion has turned ashen, a startling contrast to his mop of dark hair.

“You can see me?” I ask dumbly, shock pumping into my veins. I’m belatedly aware that my hands are still fisting in the dirt on the ground, my fingers catching on one of the stray magenta leaves.

I can...touch things?

I drag myself up into a sitting position and lock eyes once more with Violet. The compulsion to hold her is almost a physical ache, one I can feel in the marrow of my bones.

“That’s... It’s...” Athena blinks rapidly at me, her gray eyes glazed with tears. “Impossible.”

“What the fuck is going on here?” Violet demands, whipping her gaze between me and the Fomorian.

“My son’s final gift to you,” Athena answers in a breathy whisper. A single tear cascades down her cheeks.

“What?” Violet demands.

“Yeah...what?” I parrot, and both Violet and Vin seem to wince at the sound of my voice. The rest of the men simply stare at me with varying expressions of disbelief—and suspicion, if Dimitri’s dour expression is anything to go by.

“When a Fomorian dies, his energy transfers to another soul...usually an unborn baby in his mother’s womb. But when Balor died...” Athena can’t seem to finish her sentence. Her hand hovers over her throat, as if she wishes to clutch a string of pearls that doesn’t actually exist.

“Are you saying Mason is a Fomorian?” Violet whispers, her voice shaking.

Fear lodges in my throat as I await Athena’s answer with bated breath.

“He’s a member of the Wild Hunt now,” Athena replies, pulling in a staggered breath. “A Fomorian.”

“W-what does that mean?” I’ve never heard Vin sound anything less than calm and collected, but just now, he appears two seconds away from a full-blown panic attack.

“It means that Mason no longer needs to remain in the veil.” Athena sounds slightly awed, and her gaze continually flickers to the still body of her son. “He’s not alive, not truly, but he’s—”

“One of you,” Violet breathes, still not pulling her gaze off of me.

“He’ll need to ride with the Hunt every night to collect wayward souls, but he’s no longer restricted to the afterworld. He’s here, just as I’m here, just as you’re here.”

Sparks of excitement skid down my body, crackling through my nerve endings, as I hold Violet’s stare. I can scarcely breathe, and the world has quieted around me, the sounds of conversation and exclamations turning to a distant thrum.

“Mason,” Violet whispers.

And then she’s lunging for me...or I’m lunging for her. I honestly wouldn’t be able to tell you which one.

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