Rise at Twilight

by Kayla Krantz

  Luna blinked, unsure how to answer that.

  “No, I didn’t. I can’t remember what I wanted to be, but it wasn’t this. Life takes us all on a journey that we’re not prepared for, and this is simply where I ended up. I bet you never imagined you would kill your own mother, but that’s blood on your hands.” Luna flinched, but Chance continued speaking before she could cut him off. “Look, bottom line, as far as I can see, there are two types of killers. Circumstantial—” he paused to point a finger at her “—and instinctual.” He pointed at himself.

  Luna crinkled the corners of her eyes to hold in the tears. She had hoped death would vanquish her of the evil Chance had brainwashed her with after Asher’s death, but if things would continue unchanged, she feared she would never be able to escape her demons.

  Not even in death.

  “You’re not evil,” Chance said, squeezing his eyes shut as if he was reciting something he was tired of saying.

  “Normal people don’t kill their mothers,” she pointed out.

  “It’s more common than you think actually.”

  “What happens to them…the people you kill here?”

  Chance shrugged, drumming his fingers on the table. “Hell, if I know. I want to say somewhere better, but I know that’s probably bullshit.”

  But what if it isn’t? Luna asked herself. What if it’s possible to die a second time and go somewhere better? Somewhere beautiful with white clouds, sparkling water, light, and love? What if it’s all possible?

  “I can’t stop you,” she said, staring at his twitching fingers. “And I’m not going to try. I’m going to let you know though, that I am not going to help with any part of it,” she said, green eyes sparkling as she remembered him kidnapping her in senior year, explaining how she would need to learn his ritual techniques to help him with ceremonies.

  A sympathetic smile crossed Chance’s face, probably the first one he had ever worn, and he reached out to stroke her cheek with the back of his hand. “I know doing what you did killed you…no pun intended. In all seriousness, I will never force that on you again,” he promised. “I learned from the first time. No good comes from forcing your hand. I want you to be comfortable here. Besides, I’ve come to admire your innocence.”

  Luna scoffed at his choice of words. Of all the ways she would describe herself, that was no longer one of them.

  “What?”

  “After what I’ve done, how can you call me innocent?” she demanded, hoping her tone would come out bitter instead of the weak whisper that actually made an appearance.

  “Because even in spite of what you’ve done, you still have a conscience,” he replied, blinking his clear blue eyes.

  “Some good it’s done me,” she said with a frown. “Sometimes, I wonder if it would be better to be a psychopath, to have no conscience.”

  “Psychopath? Is that my diagnosis?” he asked, blue eyes twinkling in amusement.

  Luna twitched her lip in response, knowing he was trying his best to change the subject, and part of her wanted to let him. The conversation had gotten off course, veering into territory that even years later Luna still considered dangerous.

  The smirk fell. “I can’t explain it, okay? Things were black and white in the beginning, but after Max left the picture, the lines blurred. I don’t want to hurt you, but even that’s a struggle sometimes. I’m evil, Luna, down to the core. You’ve seen it firsthand. That kind of evil…it’s not something that can be contained, and I took it out on you.”

  Luna shivered. Even though she was staring Chance in the eyes, she didn’t see him. She was in her mind, the most painful of her memories, when those same blue eyes had watched himself stab a hole clean into her abdomen with amusement.

  “I thought that was just one alter,” she said, hurt at the idea of him lying about his mental illness to hide the truth of just how much he had enjoyed torturing her.

  “I’m not burdened with that anymore. Perhaps the best part of this place is that they’re all combined together, a mess of evil inside of me.”

  “The good’s there too then,” Luna murmured, thinking of the boy who had tucked her in after stabbing her, the one who had stitched up her wound to ensure she wouldn’t die, the one who had stood by her side when her friends left her to perish to her grief. “The part of you that couldn’t hurt me, it’s there.” She ignored the fact that the part of him that destroyed her was lurking beneath the surface as well.

  “And that’s the only side of me you’ll see,” he vowed. “The rest is there to protect you.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  THE KNOCKING ON the door was loud—maybe not loud per say, but unexpected. Max never had visitors on this side of the Realm…until Luna had stopped by, and that hadn’t been a visit. Visits were between friends, and she was…well…he no longer knew how to finish that sentence. No longer knew what to think of the girl that at one time had meant the world to him.

  She’s something else, he told himself then frowned because sometimes that statement could be misconstrued for a compliment which it was not.

  He whipped the door open, speech prepared for whoever dared bother him, when it lodged in his throat. On his porch, it wasn’t Luna. It was Amy. Max’s mouth opened and closed as he stared at her. He couldn’t remember ever seeing her without her mask so it was funny now, odd. Her giant brown eyes stared at him from her thin, pointy face. Her long dark brown hair was messy, in bad need of a hairbrush, and she stared at him, as if waiting for him to point that out.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked at last, not sure if he felt more stupid for the question or for how surprised he was to see her.

  “I wanted to talk to you, to tell you I’m not a Keeper anymore,” she said, hugging herself tightly. “It only seemed right that I let you know because I don’t know who He’s going to choose to replace me.”

  Max’s bushy eyebrows drew together as he stared her down. This conversation was probably one of the last things he wanted to do, but Amy didn’t look like she was ready to leave anytime soon. “Come inside,” he urged, stepping across the threshold.

  Amy bobbed her head and pushed past him to come into his little space. She moved to the ratty couch and sat down, staring at him without a break. He closed the door and turned back to her, unsure how to start this conversation. Her eyes told him a lot and nothing at all. She had a story, that much was obvious, though by looking at her, at the scars dotting her neck and arms, he wondered if he really wanted to know.

  “What happened?” he forced himself to speak at last.

  “I failed my mission,” she said.

  Max frowned. “Somehow, I don’t think it’s as simple as that.”

  Amy sighed and forced her fingers through her long brown hair at the front of her face. “It’s not, I guess. I was given two chances, and every time I had the chance to redeem myself, I refused until Morpheus threatened my sister. I didn’t think anything of it, thought it was just blowing smoke, but when she disappeared, I thought he was serious. I blamed myself, wondering how I could be so careless, wondering why I didn’t do everything that I could to save her. I didn’t realize it was Luna and…” She stopped to wipe away a fresh tear from her cheek.

  Max breathed in, clenching his jaw so tight he could feel the bulge of his muscles. “None of us could’ve guessed she’d take that turn.”

  “No, but that was our job, wasn’t it? To determine that risk?” Amy spat.

  Max didn’t flinch at her tone. If he was in her position, he’d feel the same way. Without meaning to, he found his eyes studying over her scars again, and Amy frowned at him, glancing down to where his eyes picked up a gash on the top of her arm. She tried to pull her sleeve over it, but it hardly budged. “Luna did all that to you, didn’t she?”

  Amy didn’t glance at it again, she didn’t need to in order to know exactly what he was talking about. “Yeah.”

  Max’s lip quivered, and he thought of the story that Amy told. He pictured Luna,
knife raised and intent in her eyes. There’s a cliché saying whenever quiet people snap, whenever the girl or guy next door kills someone. “They were such a nice person,” everyone says. “Not at all the type you’d imagine could do something like this.”

  And it was true, Max was sad to admit. It was always true, because it’s so much easier to see the distant monster that you can’t recognize than the one beside your bed. You convince yourself every reason not to see what they are until it’s punching you in the chest, crushing your ribs, and ripping out your heart.

  “Tell me that’s not why you were stripped of your title,” Max said.

  “It’s not,” she said and sighed. “That was my own fault. If it makes it any better, Morpheus said I’m a Protector now.”

  Max rolled his eyes. “That’s just a synonym.”

  “I’m weaker now, we both know that,” Amy said, heavy scowl on her face.

  “Only if you tell yourself that,” Max said and moved over to sit beside her, eyes on a particularly nasty scar trailing from her collarbone to under the ridge of her shirt.

  “What is it?” Amy asked, eyes narrowed as she caught sight of him staring.

  “I don’t mean to stare, it’s just hard to believe Luna did that to you, that she followed right in Chance’s footsteps, and finished his work for him,” Max said.

  “We could’ve stopped her, you know. Way back when.”

  “But we didn’t,” Max pointed out. “And why didn’t we? When we noticed the spikes, saw firsthand what she could do, why didn’t we put a stop to it?”

  “Because she was a good person,” Amy pointed out. “Did you forget that she saved my life back then? I wouldn’t have made it this far without her.”

  “Well, our job wasn’t to determine if she was a good person. Our job was to cut down any potential threat, to limit any powers that seemed too strong. We knew what she could be capable of,” Max said.

  “Yeah, well hindsight is a hell of a burden,” Amy retorted, cutting her eyes at him.

  “Yeah, but I don’t know what to tell you now. We’re all on this same side of the Realm. We’re all dead now,” Max said.

  “Do you really think that makes a difference to Chance?” Amy asked. “He dabbled with death and this side of the Realm long before he ever died. Who’s to say the rest of them don’t have some kind of plan to help him?”

  Max shrugged. “It is what it is. We won’t know until the situation comes.”

  Amy sighed, lifting her fingers to press against her temples. “I guess it really isn’t my problem anymore,” she said at last, letting her hand fall into her lap with a thump.

  The thought jolted Max, and he suddenly thought of Luna’s visit again. Tucking his bottom lip in his teeth, he thought about telling Amy but didn’t know if that was the best course of action. The girl was already upset, and the news would just upset her more.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  Max sighed, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose as he let his lip go free. What is wrong with me? he chastised himself. He was usually so good at holding his emotions, at keeping his face steady, and now it seemed as if anyone could read him like an open book. “Luna came by here. Not too long ago.”

  Amy visibly bristled, her spine straightening as if she was about to hop off the couch and bolt out the door. “Why?”

  “She wants her son back,” Max said. I want us to be friends again, her voice echoed in his head, and he closed his eyes to try and block it out.

  Amy scoffed. “Good luck on that. Morpheus will never let that happen. Asher’s too powerful to fall into the hands of someone wicked like her.”

  Max tilted his head to the side. “You say that as if you never cared about her.”

  Amy shrugged but some of the fire visibly left her eyes, and she seemed smaller somehow.

  “Feelings aside, you forget, she’s powerful too.”

  “That’s the problem,” Amy said. “Especially if she’s with Chance, helping him. We won’t be able to keep that child safe forever.”

  Max shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. I think we’re doing a fine job of it right now. Luna doesn’t even know where to begin looking for him, and as long as everything is up in the air, we’re safe. He’s safe, and that’s all that matters.”

  “But she will find him eventually. She’ll figure out everything and what then? If Chance and Luna get their child, this all ends for us. You know that as well as I do. There will be too much power on their side and even Morpheus won’t be enough to stop that. Our world will be over, just like that.”

  “If our world ends, theirs does too, don’t forget. Besides, you’re making assumptions. We can’t rule anything out until it actually happens,” Max reasoned. “Just wait. Karma will make an appearance eventually.”

  Amy snorted. “Will it? We’re dead. Will it really make a difference?”

  “Dead but not forgotten,” Max said with a passive shrug because it was the only response he could fathom.

  “I know something about Luna that she doesn’t know,” Amy said, staring at the wall across the room like it was telling her something.

  “What is it?” Max asked, eyes wide with general curiosity. Was it possible that Amy knew something about her that even Max didn’t know? The thought hurt. He knew he and Luna had drifted apart in the last few years, but he had prided himself on knowing her better than anyone else. What if I never really knew her?

  “She has a sister,” Amy said, breaking into Max’s thoughts.

  Silence ruled in the room as Max stared open-mouthed at the tiny Protector beside him. “I’m sorry, did I hear that right. She has a sister?”

  Amy bobbed her head. “Her mother told me so herself.”

  “How does Luna not know this?”

  Amy shrugged. “Her Mom said she gave her away when she was little. I guess she never bothered to mention it to Luna, and no one else knows enough to tell her.”

  “But she told you?”

  Amy bobbed her head.

  “What are you thinking?”

  “Maybe that girl has Luna’s powers too. Maybe she is the one we need to get into contact with. If she’s just as powerful, I can’t think of a better solution to our problems.”

  “Sounds as if you haven’t considered the possibility that she might not have any powers at all. She might be just as clueless as Luna used to be, and by reaching out, we might just be creating another unnecessary situation.”

  “Maybe, but at this point, if it means endings things, I’m willing to try anything.”

  Max was right there with her.

  Chapter Fifteen

  LUNA WAS OFF-PUT by her conversation with Chance for the rest of the day, and even though she didn’t leave the cabin again, she made sure to keep as much distance between the two of them as possible. She lie in the bed again, staring up at the wooden beams and spiderwebs with the feeling of being tricked deep in her heart. No matter how hard she tried to convince herself otherwise, she couldn’t be fooled. It was like her pain had turned into a tick, one that had stubbornly sunken its fangs into her heart and couldn’t be removed unless it was with fire.

  He’s not sorry for a damn thing he’s done to me, she thought, pressing the heels of her hands into her eyes. How did I ever convince myself otherwise?

  She should’ve known better, but that was why Chance had been such a great killer, he was a master manipulator, a charmer—like Ted Bundy. Only now that it was too late to change anything did she realize her mistake.

  Rather than being angry, like she expected to be, she was hurt. In that moment, she realized exactly how emotionally invested in the blond psychopath she had become and hated herself for it. It bothered her more than words could describe that he’d dare to lie to her after everything they had been through.

  That’s who he is. She clenched her jaw as soon as the words ran through her mind. Why am I surprised?

  Luna sighed slowly through her nose, listening to the sounds of boards creakin
g from the front room. It sounded as if he was approaching her, and she wasn’t sure how the thought made her feel. Her heart started to pound wildly, her cheeks flushing with heat.

  I’m a mess, she told herself and groaned. If she could wish for anything, it’d be to have her sanity back.

  Chance stepped into the doorway then, studying her with a sheen over his blue eyes.

  When their eyes met, he took a step into the room, extending a book out to her. She didn’t say a word, and he didn’t either as he placed it beside her. She blinked at him, waiting for him to speak, but he stared back. Growing uncomfortable, Luna was about to turn over when Chance opened his mouth.

  “I thought you might like something to read,” he said at last.

  She glanced down at the book, letting her finger trace over the cover. Her mind felt as if it was filled with the infinite screams of the damned and concentrating on anything seemed like an impossible feat.

  “So…hate my decorations?” Chance said with a small laugh.

  She glanced up at him, knowing he was joking but at the same time unable to process what he said.

  The laughter quieted quickly. “The shackles. That was you, right?”

  Luna bobbed her head, wondering when he had first noticed what she had done.

  Chance frowned, sensing the battle of emotions in her. He didn’t say another word, but he didn’t need to—rather, he squeezed her knee, gave her a tiny tight-lipped smile, and turned to leave the room.

  Later on, he brought her food and just about everything else that he thought would help make her comfortable, but she gave him the same lackluster response, and he backed off. None of his gifts were what she needed to fill the nagging void growing inside of her.

  Ultimately, none of it mattered.

  Not her fight with Max.

  Not her emotional conflict over Chance.

  Not even the fact that she could barely cope with her own death.

  She needed her son.

  The bed was dangerous, it was a comfortable portal into her pit of despair. Once she lied down, she drowned in herself, and it was that thought that forced her up on her feet. Standing left her feeling physically sick. She swayed and wrapped her arms around her abdomen as if she had been cut in half and was just trying to hold all her body parts together.