Page 73 of Lust

“And you know now that I’m not sleeping with her. Hell, I had a weird make-out session with you just before going in with Candice… er you. I’m still confused about who was who, to be honest. You know, you girls were in a position of power in that trial. It wasn’t really fair.”

I glare at him, feeling sick to my stomach. “I’m way too tired to pick apart any more of your bullshit, Remy.”

He holds his hand out to me. “I know. I’m sorry. At least let me walk you to your room.”

“I don’t need your help,” I snap, but when I walk into the darkness of the atrium, I hear him following close behind me.

After opening my door, I turn to Remy. He’s a mess, covered in dust and debris, but not even that dulls his bright eyes and charming smile. He leans against the door frame, looking as gorgeous as ever. It’s clear he’s expecting an invitation inside, an invitation he’s not going to get. “I can’t keep doing this,” I blow out in frustration, my shoulders sagging. “I can’t keep trusting you, only for you to screw me over. Leave me alone.”

He doesn’t reply as I close the door in his face.

I take my second shower of the day, not just to clean myself of the dirt and sweat, but to hide in the white noise of the water falling on me. After finally being able to brush my hair, I pull on some pajamas and pick up my Hell Cell from my night stand. I’m half an inch from the comfort of my bed when there’s a knock at my door.

I’m tired. So fucking tired, and I have no strength left for an argument with Remy.

Frustration pulls within me as I haul the door open.

My breath hitches as I find myself face to face with Dade. A thousand thoughts run through my mind, but I'm too momentarily stunned to say anything. Dade doesn't give me the chance to speak as he grabs my wrist, pulling me from the room, picks me up, and flings me over his shoulder. My heart bottoms out as he spreads his wings and flings the pair of us over the balustrade.

37

HOSPITAL IN HELL

ROWENA

My head feels like it’s been bulldozed by a ten ton truck as words I can’t hear very well drift around me. I hear Juliette’s voice drifting through the darkness, but I can’t quite grip on to it.

There’s darkness again and the sounds of other people talking. I hear Juliette again and I think, Quinn, but I can’t be sure. There’s darkness again, but this time some color in it. I’m dreaming, but just like Juliette’s voice I can’t quite latch onto it and pretty soon it’s gone, surrendered to the blackness.

“What the fuck?”

The voice is followed by a low groan. The sound of beeping and quiet machinery fills the air. I open my eyes and blink a few times. It’s still dark, but this is a different kind of darkness. There’s a low blue light illuminating everything. It takes a few moments to focus. I’m in a hospital ward of some kind.

I try to remember why I’m here, but my memory is foggy and the swirls of consciousness meld with reality. I pull in a deep breath and close my eyes again as I try to think back to the last thing I remember. The second trial. I remember walking into the Earthery and… Oh crap. I was Anthura.

I snap my eyes open as the memory of my reflection in the mirror in the Earthery comes back to me with a jolt. I focus on the bed opposite to stop myself from thinking any further. Colin is in there, wired up to contraptions I’m sure I’ve never seen in any hospital before. I guess that accounts for the machinery sounds and beeping.

“Fucking Hell. My head.”

I turn my head to my left slowly to see who’s complaining, but I already know it’s Felix, by his voice. My heart lurches, and I heave in a gasp as I take him in.

He's drenched in blood, and the left side of his face is a gruesome cavity where his eye used to be. I can't suppress the surge of horror that grips me, and my heart races with every breath. The hospital's dim blue night lights cast an eerie glow over his injuries, magnifying their horrifying nature. I swallow back my fear, but my throat is dry and scratchy.

Against the backdrop of his mangled face, his right eye opens and fixes on me. I'm sure my own expression mirrors my shock at his appearance. I can only imagine the excruciating pain he must be in.

“Are you hurting?” My voice is croaky and alien.

He closes his eye and shakes his head slightly before opening it again and staring at me.

Despite the terror crushing me, I grab a glass of water that someone has left on the table between us and lean over to pass it to him. His groans fill the air as he struggles to prop himself into a semi-upright position. His hand brushes mine as he takes the glass and drinks the water down.

When he’s finished, he places the glass back down and turns back to me.

“You look like shit.” His voice is uneven and croaky, but yet still holds a tone of superiority.

I laugh. I can’t help it. We’re both bashed up in hospital, neither of us knowing how we came to be here and he still has to get in a dig.

“Nice to see that the half the brain you lost isn’t the side with the snarky remarks stored away. I was beginning to worry that you might humble up a bit.”

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