Page 54 of Marked By Shadows

I mouth at Trine, asking her what’s going on, but she doesn’t answer me. She steps over the bass, her figure drawing nearer to me. My heart practically stops, because this isn’t her, and in a split second, her face twists with fury as she tackles me away from the drums and to the ground with surprising strength.

When I look into her eyes, it doesn’t look like her. Her brown eyes are glazed over, her mouth is half-open, her cheeks so pale it feels like I can see the veins and blood vessels in her face.

Her hands grip around my throat as the other members of the band struggled to get between us. I can hear the sound of footsteps coming near me, but it’s not fast enough. The whole crowd in the venue seems to be in an uproar - screams, gasps and shouting all came together in a jumbled mix of sound. I feel like time is slowing down, though it can’t be more than a few seconds.

My insides churn as panic rises in my chest. I can feel people trying to push through the stage between us, but I know it’s going to be too late if I don’t do something soon. I try to pry her fingers off my throat, but I’m starting to lose my strength as my mind races with a million questions.

What does Trine want with me? How can I stop her? What the fuck is going on with her?

Is this how I die?

My vision starts to fade, the edges going dark, Trine’s grip tightening around my throat. It’s hard to fight it–I don’t want to. I want to let her win. And, for a second, it feels like I’m seeing myself being strangled, like this is happening to someone else instead of me.

And then, a sudden burst of adrenaline courses through me. If I die here, I'm not going to die without a fight.

I manage to get my hands underneath her arms and push with all my strength. She falls off me and I scramble to my feet, gasping for air. Misha grabs her by the waist as Javi and Dom kneel down by my sides, both of them asking if I’m okay.

I’m not okay. I need to throw up. But I’m not going to do that in front of all these people. There’s no curtain here and everyone is watching us.

"What the hell, Trine?" I shout at her. "What's going on?"

But she doesn't answer. Instead, she lunges at me again, her eyes still glazed over. I move out of the way, but she's surprisingly fast. She's like a wild animal, her movements quick and unpredictable. Misha chases after her, grabbing her by the waist again.

Trine turns her head to look at me, grimacing as she does. “You’re next, bitch,” she says.

Except that’s nother.

That’s her voice, but it’s nother.

There’s something about her tone, something about the way she says it, something about the way she’s looking right through me–I know that Trine, my friend, she would never say that.

This isn’t a stunt. This is real. Trine’s fucking possessed and I don’t know what to do about it.

I stumble back, my heart pounding in my chest. The band is ushered off the stage by a bunch of people in black clothes, Misha dragging Trine as she kicks and screams. From the corner of my eye, I can see people using their phones, taking videos and pictures of us. I can’t help but be protective of Trine, but everything hurts and I can hardly breathe.

As we get dragged backstage, Dom is there, closing the space between himself and Trine.

“Alana, stay where you are,” he says, and before I can even process what’s going on, he throws the vial of liquid he’s holding at Trine’s feet. The glass shatters, and a thick fog pours out of it, enveloping Trine. She staggers back, coughing and spluttering, and the glazed look in her eyes starts to fade.

"What the hell did you do?" I demand, but Dom just looks at me with a grave expression.

"That wasn't Trine," he says, his voice low. "It was a demon wearing her skin. I’m just trying to help her. Did she say anything to you when she attacked you?”

I swallow, my heart hammering in my chest. “She said ‘you’re next, bitch’.”

Dom nods grimly. “I was afraid of that. We need to get you out of here, Alana. It’s not safe for you anymore.”

“What? No, I can’t just leave! What about the band? What about the tour?” I ask. “Javi is about to go on stage…”

“It’s too dangerous,” Dom insists, putting his hand up to stop me from talking. “You’re a target now. We need to keep you safe.”

“It’s just a little demonic possession. It doesn’t stop Trine from living her life,” I say, aware of how absurd that sounds. “Why would it stop mine?”

“She didn’t just get physically attacked by you, so…”

“I’m not running away. Not when she needs me.”

“Alana…”

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