He shook his head. “They can’t keep her locked up in there. In their eyes, she isn’t a criminal.”
My mind spun and my head hurt. Eric rose to sit beside me. “Lay down, Cassandra. You need to rest. We can talk later.”
“But… we need a plan. We don’t have a plan. W-hy aren’t you freaking out?” I choked.
His fingers combed my hair back, and he studied my face intently. “Because you’re alive.”
CHAPTER 27
READY, SET, FALL
Blue eyes filled my vision, blurred and hazy. They were unblinking as they watched me. I groggily backed my head away. The eyes came into focus, bright blue lit with cold fire. Golden hair lined her face, and she flashed me a cruel smile.
“Sandy, Sandy, Sandy… You’ve done a terrible thing.”
I inhaled a sharp gasp. Aurora was only inches from me. I could smell her perfume, heavy with florals and musk. My head felt heavy, dizzied from the overpowering scent. Her breath was warm on my face, and her arms surrounded me, caging me directly before her. She leaned in further, and I was unable to back away. She studied the fright in my eyes. A deranged smile tugged at her lips. The tip of her nose touched mine, and my heart raced.
“I’m going to kill you,” she whispered like a sweet secret. Her fingernail trailed across my neck. I shivered. Panic jabbed at every nerve in my body. “I’m going to cut you. Right here. I’m going to take a knife, slice your throat, and watch you choke on your own blood. Just like you did to Owen. My cousin.”
Her face morphed and darkened until she was Todd. He loomed over me, gray eyes blazing with fury, surrounded by menacing shadow. He let loose a low, dark laugh, his mouth twisting into a devious smirk.
My eyes burst open and I gasped for breath. Fear surged through me, and air refused to come. I was suffocating.
I can’t move! I’m trapped!
Panicked, I pushed away from the arms that held me and earned a sliver of stale air. I greedily sucked it in while struggling to free myself.
A horn blaring outside snapped me from my dream. It took only a moment to realize where I was, but ages for my nerves to settle. Aurora was nowhere in sight. Neither was Todd. My hands clung to my windowsill and pillow as my chest heaved with fright. I pressed my hand to my raging heart, trying to will it steady.
She’s coming for me. The truth echoed in my head. Terrifying. The dream was too real, almost like a message.
I rolled onto my side and found Eric asleep. His hand twitched, and his eyes moved beneath the lids. He was remembering something, and I wondered if I could see it. I was desperate to replace my nightmare. I slowly slipped my hand under the covers in search of his and laced our fingers.
1205, ERIC
She stood in the shadow of a bare tree, fur piled high around her shoulders and draped over her trailing emerald green cloak.
“I heard your call,” I answered, hand resting on the hilt of my sword as I strode down the snowy hillside. The blade had become a part of me, never far from reach. The fur and leather armor wrapping my forearms was no longer uncomfortable and foreign. It was everyday wear. So was my battle wear, metal and mail.
She wrapped me into her embrace, nuzzling against the fur strapped over my shoulder. “How I have missed you,” she whispered.
“You are far from home,” I said, drawing from her arms.
“I learned that you traveled with Heodred, gathering readied warriors on the way to the battlefront. It is my greatest honor to wish the men well on their way to war,” she said with a proud smile. Her light expression did not set me at ease.
“I saw evidence of magic in the village. You need to be more careful. Your imprint was left behind like a footprint in clay,” I warned.
“You recognize my imprint?” She batted her eyelashes, intrigued by my desire for her safety. “Worry not, sweet Eric. None can harm me now.”
“Your power has grown,” I admitted. “I can feel it. And those spells… I’ve never witnessed their kind. How have you gained so much in so little time? Do you have a new tutor?”
Her lips pursed with sadness. “In a way. Father has been on a rampage, capturing witches he suspects as traitors. He blames magic for the continuing war. The dungeon is always filled as of late.”
“They were willing to share with you?” I asked curiously. “Did you aid them in escape?”
“Of course not. Saving them would be much too risky. I simply offered a chance for their knowledge to continue, so not all would be lost.”
“You would trust your secret with those about to die at your father’s hand? Aurora, that’s far too dangerous.”
She gave a secret smile. “The memory spell has become quite useful.”
Anger flared within me, burning any softness I’d felt. “I gave you that spell so that you would never be forced to kill again, not so you could steal knowledge from unsuspecting, desperate witches!” I growled.
“Hush,” she warned softly. “No harm was done, Eric.”
“No harm?” I challenged. “You lied. You used them.”
“Do you have any idea of the number of people I can help with this knowledge?” she said. “The war is nearing its end. I can ensure that. I can change the world. Our future.” She paused, taking my hand. “I want to share it with you. Abandon your post. Come with me and I’ll show you,” she tempted.
I took back my hand. “I cannot. I pledged-”
“To my father, a man who would kill you if he knew the truth,” she stated simply.
“Not to him. To my future with Cassandra.”
“Cassandra,” she scoffed. “Eric, you cannot continue on this way. Not for her. There will be nothing left of you that she could recognize by war’s end. I see it. The blood weighs heavy on your soul. With each life you take, you are changing.”
Her thin fingers brushed the fur at my shoulders and glided down my bare arms, catching every new scar, every slight wound. Her palms skimmed over the fur and leather cuffs on my wrists. Her hands reached mine. She drifted closer, looked up, but hesitated at the look in my eyes, the one telling her to stop. She lowered her chin to stare at our hands.
“I adore your kind heart,” she said heavily. “It would be a great tragedy to lose it.” She looked up, meeting my gaze. “The faster I end this war, the faster you return home, where you belong.”
***
I let go, severing myself from Eric’s vision. It felt wrong to peek at his memories without his knowledge. They didn’t grip me hard like they did while he was awake but let me drift from them and return to my mind at will. I wondered if he would remember when he woke but doubted it. He hadn’t with any other, just woke with the feelings lingering behind. He would wake to the anger of betrayal and sadness. The Aurora he knew in that life, and the one I knew then, seemed like completely different people. Then again, Aurora seemed split now, too.
I got out of bed, wandering my bedroom in the darkness of early morning. The sun was just beginning to rise, leaving me with the option of sneaking Eric out now, or waiting until my parents left for the day.
I wasn’t ready to let him go just yet.
I sat at my desk, looking in the mirror hanging on the wall. In the dim light, you could barely notice the bruises on my neck.
Yet another brush with death.
I was beginning to think my nine lives were nearly up. Once Aurora goes free, I’ll be as good as dead, I thought, only I couldn’t share that fear with anyone. Eric would go berserk. Todd too. Maybe even Tony. All of them had become incredibly protective of me, and whenever I saw that fire light in their eyes, I felt guilt. My troubles had taken their lives and happiness. I hated that almost more than I did Aurora.
Eric stirred in his sleep, reaching into the empty place where I had slept. His eyes opened, searching for me. Our eyes met, gazes charged in the close darkness. Eric knew without me saying anything. His haunted gaze confirmed that he feared the same as I did.
I returned to his side, sliding under the warm blan
kets to rest against his chest. “Thank you for staying with me,” I whispered.
“I’ll stay with you forever,” he responded, pulling me closer.
TODD:
Todd woke with his face mashed against the floor, lying in a sticky puddle. He drowsily lifted his head from it. His lips hung heavy. His head pounded, and his stomach clenched painfully in tight knots. He stared down at the puddle of vomit beneath him. It dripped from his hair and nose, falling to join the nasty ooze on the floor. Fucking wonderful. He couldn’t even kill himself right.
He slowly slid back, drawing up to his shaking hands and knees. A pool of dried blood trailed the floor from his wrist. The cut hadn’t gone straight or deep enough. He hadn’t finished before the pills knocked him out. Fucking hell. It had mostly crusted over, but blood still seeped from his insufficient wound.
Nausea churned his stomach. His body lurched, heaving up the last remaining fluid in his stomach. It splattered to the floor. His thick arms trembled violently, struggling to hold him up over the nasty shit beneath him. Dry heaves wracked him. His entire body shook and broke into a cold sweat as he gagged relentlessly. He collapsed to his side, narrowly avoiding the putrid mess and landing on shards of glass. He felt one slice into his skin. Not deep enough to do much damage. Too bad.
His phone rang the sharpest, most obnoxious sound in the world. It buzzed and sang from his pocket, but he didn’t move. He just lay helpless, his body shivering from the stress he’d put it through. The phone stopped buzzing, leaving just the ringing of his ears in the empty apartment. His heartbeat slammed through his ears, battling for the forefront. The thump pounded on his body, a cruel reminder of his failure. Thump, thump. Thump, thump. Every beat slammed his body with enough force to rattle the floorboards beneath him. At least, it felt that way.
His cell rang again. He slowly reached for it this time and answered shakily. “H…” his voice drifted off to silence. The phone slipped from his hand and clattered to the floor. He didn’t know why he’d answered. He didn’t want to talk to anyone. Damn habits.
“Todd?” a small voice called meekly through the receiver. “Toddy, babe?”
A chill colder than ice rushed through his body. Fucking hell. Aurora.
“Toddy, come see me. We need to talk.”
He wiped vomit from his lips with the back of his hand and crawled up to his knees. “No,” he stated, just loud enough for her to hear.
“Please,” she pleaded. Her voice sounded quiet through the little plastic phone on the floor. “I need to explain.”
“You need to go to hell,” he muttered. His head ached. It felt like someone was hammering inside his skull, trying to break out. No wonder people used to think a headache was a demon in your head. He wanted to drill a fucking hole to let the pressure out. Where did he keep his tools these days?
“Don’t hang up on me,” she told him. And he didn’t. He was planted, hovering in violent trembles above the phone.
Why? Why was he listening to her? Why hadn’t the pills killed him like he wanted? Why hadn’t slitting his wrist helped with that? Why did nothing ever work out for him?
“I didn’t want you to find out the way you did,” she explained. “I was going to surprise you. Everything was going to be perfect.”
He leaned against the wall, resting his swimming head back.
“Come see me. Today. I need to see you, babe.”
“You need to burn in hell,” he stated. Hadn’t he said that already? He rubbed his forehead, trying to… hell he didn’t know what he was trying to do anymore.
“Are you high?” she accused.
“Fuck off, bitch,” he snapped.
He climbed unsteadily to his feet. He wished he were high. Maybe then his body wouldn’t hurt all over. Maybe his mind wouldn’t remember. He felt like he’d been hit by a Mack truck. This was friggin’ hell wrapped in… He couldn’t think of a way to finish the thought. Maybe he had brain damage. At least that would be a start to what he had tried to accomplish last night.
“Damn Sandy,” she cursed through the phone.
He snatched up the hunk of plastic, closing it hard in an iron fist. “What?” he burst out angrily, pressing the phone to his ear. “Damn you. Sandy didn’t do shit, you worthless piece of crap! You did this!” He wanted to reach through the phone and strangle her. Snap her neck, just like she had done to Jameson.
She gasped. “Are you really going to blame me? After all that I’ve done for you?”
Tears burned at his dry eyes. They ached, blazing in pain. “What you made me do…” his words trailed off. He couldn’t even bring himself to say it, to think about it. He’d felt and seen it all. The images he’d seen in his head… the way his body reacted… He’d put his hands on Sandy. He’d attacked her. He’d tried to-
His stomach rolled. He slammed his palm against the wall as his tortured body gagged desperately. He coughed and wheezed, hanging his head in the hall, tears stinging his eyes.
“Todd, let me help you.”
“Help?” he gasped weakly. His jaw hung open in horror, choking on his shame and remorse.
“Let me make it up to you. Let me help you forget.”
He leaned back, slamming his head and spine into the wall. He bet she could do that, wipe the memory away. God, he wanted that. He needed that.
“F…fuck you,” he stammered through chattering teeth. Not remembering would only hurt Sandy more. Aurora had proven that the last time she kept his memories from him. She couldn’t be trusted.
His phone slipped from his hand and hit the floor with a clatter. The battery popped out and slid down the hall.
He was so dehydrated he couldn’t even cry. He sat collapsed against the wall for a moment, trembling with shivers.
Hatred hung like a dark cloud over him, his third spiral downward due to Aurora. It didn’t matter that he could feel it happening, or that he knew why. He welcomed it, allowing the poisonous cloud of hate to consume him, to tear away at what little humanity he had.
He felt Mimi watching him, but she stayed in hiding. She couldn’t recognize the person who had been caring for her, but he could recognize himself much better now than he could that lost idiot he had been for the past few months. He knew this guy. The stoner. The ass. It felt right to be him again… and… incredibly wrong.
Something buried deep inside him pulled him up from the floor. Maybe it was his survival instinct kicking in. Maybe it was something else. Whichever, he was helpless to stop it.
He picked up his phone and put it back together. Aurora had already left a message, but there was no need to listen.
He left his apartment, slamming the door closed behind him. It was early, the air crisp and wintry, the sky gray. His car was waiting for him at the curb in front of the liquor store across the street, and his legs took him on a last-second detour, careening him through the door and dragging him to the wall of glass bottles. He grabbed a big one without even looking at the label. He’d never been a drinker, and he wasn’t diving into it now for the taste. Merely the convenience.
The guy at the counter recognized him, muttering greetings that Todd paid no attention to, until he made an offer. One better than a bottle of… what the hell was in his hand anyway? Jose Cuervo. This dude knew him from his partying days, and he was selling.
Todd paid at the counter, and the guy slipped a little something extra in the bag with Jose.
Once Todd was outside, he was already guzzling tequila. The strong liquor seared his parched throat. His body yearned for water, but that wasn’t happening. His body would get what he felt like giving it, and that was liquor and coke.
Somehow, without his input, his Monte Carlo took him outta there, navigating by sheer luck, or by will, he couldn’t be sure. By the time he reached his destination, the cloud of hate had eaten away at his heart and burrowed deep within every limb, down to the marrow.
He wanted a constant cloud of crack protection around him, but that wasn’t in the cards tod
ay. He shook the pack of powder free from the paper shopping bag. No time or mind to cook his special purchase. Instead he snorted. Not his favorite but still fucking awesome in a terrible kind of way. He made a frayed straw from his paper bag, and the powder flew up his nose. Years of fighting for sobriety went down the drain in an instant.
Why had he ever bothered with rehab? All the time and energy he’d put into getting clean and staying that way was for nothing. For fuckin’ shit. What a waste. Drugs were his savior, not the enemy. He should have embraced that fact years ago and not deluded himself with some dumb idea of changing his course. To think, he had actually believed he could be something worthy of living someday. If he hadn’t been such a dumbshit, Sandy wouldn’t be nursing a bruised neck and a split lip right now. She wouldn’t have been-
He tossed the remains of his savior under the seat. The full effects kicked in slower than crack, so he grabbed Jose, took a lengthy swig, then realized where he was. Reid-Pearce. The mental institution cast a dark shadow over where he’d parked, and a cold shiver jerked his shoulders.
What the hell…?
And he was getting out of his car.
This can’t be happening. He was high. He was fucking blasted. And yet his feet hauled him across the parking lot to the glass doors.
He pushed through the entry door. He was pissed off, confused, and boiling inside as he signed the guest book. He sat in the little plastic chair, waiting for her like he was programmed to do it. Even high, she called and he came. Screwed-up son of a bitch.
He sniffled, scrunching his nose. His nostrils felt raw from a drug he hadn’t used in years. He ran his hands through his hair. It knotted around his fingers. Some felt wet, some crunchy with vomit. Fuckin’ classy. He tugged the sleeves of his hoodie down around his hands, hiding as much of the crusted blood on his arm as he could.
When Aurora entered the room, he tracked her with narrowed eyes. She looked tired, probably from working to get in his head. “Not sleeping well, dear?” he asked sarcastically.
She slid lazily into a seat, eyes drooping with exhaustion but brow lowering suspiciously at him. She didn’t look happy. Why the fuck wouldn’t she be? He’d come all the way here at her command. She should have looked fucking ecstatic to see him. Was she not a fan of the freshly puked look? Too fucking bad, bitch.
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