by J. L. Murray
“What do you want me to do?”
“Bide your time. Pretend to be powerless. Keep doing Abel’s bidding.”
“Even if that means killing more of your children.”
“Yes,” she said, sitting down again. We were engulfed in flames, but it didn’t feel like burning. It felt like a soft touch, the caress of dozens of fingers. And when I looked at my skin, it wasn’t black. “The power always returns to its source, With the death of each grotesque child, I will grow stronger,”
“This is insane. You’re insane. You want me to murder your monsters so you can get your power back?”
“Yes.”
“What are you then? Adam’s first wife? Some Old Testament fairy tale?”
“I’m more than that,” she said.
“How much more?”
“When Adam was made, when he woke up in Eden, he wasn’t alone.”
“Because you were made at the same time,” I said. “I’ve heard the story.”
“No,” she said. “Because I was already there.”
chapter twenty-five
I
opened my eyes to darkness. And cold. Was it cold in Hell? I tried to sit up, but cried out at the pain. I reached down and gently felt the edge of the wound in my gut. It had been stitched up.
“What?” I said, squinting in the dark. I looked up to see stars shining. Gravel cut into my skin where I lay and I felt the ground with my hands. A road? Then I understood.
“Frankie Mourning, wake up, wake up,” said the wraith.
“Goddammit,” I said.
“You don’t get to die, die, die, no matter what you’ve done. You’re not finished yet.”
“Jesus, can’t I even sacrifice myself in peace?”
“You sacrificed nothing, nothing,” said the wraith. “Your life is ours.”
I thought of my vision. Had it really been a hallucination? Had I really been in Hell? I remembered Beatrice’s face, her eyes so dark and deep, like the bottom of Mirror Lake. I remembered why I was so afraid of the deepness of the water when I looked into those eyes.
“My life isn’t yours,” I said, slowly sitting up, the stitches pulling at the skin. I blinked around me, making out trees now, the roads running perpendicular. “Oh, how original. Another crossroads. Is this all you’ve got? Let me guess, if I step off the road, I’ll fall into Hell, is that it?”
“You deserve Hell, Hell, Hell,” the wraith hissed.
“I was just there!” I said. “Send me back! It was lovely.”
The wraith was silent, not seeming to have an abusive comeback for once.
“Where are you, then?” I called out to the night. A cool breeze hit my skin, making me shiver. “I know you’re around here somewhere. I met your brother, so you might as well come out, Abel. Because I’m not doing shit for you until you show your stupid face.”
“He won’t see, see, see you,” said the wraith. “You have to talk to us, us, us.”
The wraith came into view then, coalescing in front of me, coagulating like a scab. This was followed by another wraith, and then another. I heard the scream of a raven in the distance.
“Jesus, you’re like blowflies. Are you buzzing around a corpse?”
“You’re not a corpse, corpse, corpse,” said the wraith. I couldn’t tell which one spoke, or if it was all of them at once. “He fixed you, he brought you back, back, back. More than you deserve.”
I tried to stand, but felt one of my stitches pop, the pain threatening to overpower me. I lay back on the gravel.
“Can we get the sinful whore insults out of way here?” I said. “Do I even need to be here or can you just fling hurtful barbs at each other?”
“He wants you here.”
“Who, Abel? Then why doesn’t he tell me himself? Is he afraid?”
“Afraid of you, you, you?” The wraiths flickered and appeared again, a step closer to me. “You’ll do as we say, say, say, Frankie Mourning. You’ll do as you’re told.”
“Or what? You’ll send me to Hell?”
The wraiths were silent for a long moment, seeming to watch me.
“You’re not afraid.”
I looked at them, all regarding me inside their creepy hoods. It was unsettling.
“I am afraid,” I said, remembering what Lilith told me. Bide your time, pretend to be weak. Don’t show your power. “I’m just so very tired. Tell me what you want me to do.”
The wraiths flickered again and then they were surrounding me, peering over me.
“What have you learned, learned, learned,” they said. “What do you know, Frankie Mourning?”
I swallowed, blinking up at them. Was Abel somewhere in the darkness, watching me?
“I’ve learned I’m stronger than I knew.” I watched the wraiths lean forward, listening. “I killed my mother. My own mother. I didn’t feel sorry, and I didn’t cry. I killed her without anyone telling me to.”
“She was not herself, herself, herself.”
“Doesn’t that make it worse?”
“What else have you learned?”
I looked back at the infinite faces, the lack of substance, of light. Were they all like Becky underneath? Were they all people? Or were they too far gone to remember being human?
“I’ve learned that there’s no sleep for a sinner like me,” I said. “I’ve learned you bastards won’t even let me die in peace.”
“Have you learned nothing else, else, else?”
“Should I have?” I said.
The wraiths flickered and moved back a step, and I felt I could breathe again.
“Where is your sister?”
“How should I know? I killed her, you know. And she wasn’t very understanding about it.”
“You’re lying, lying, lying.”
“Cut the shit, you already know where she is.”
“With the other, other, other. Cain. Cain. Cain.”
“See, you didn’t even need me to figure that out. Good job.”
“Are you mocking us?”
“Can I go now?” I said. “You did your little song and dance, you tried to scare me, what more do you want from me? I told you I’d do what you want.”
“A test, test, test,” the wraiths said. “He has a test for you. You’re not going to like it.”
“What else is new?”
“You must keep, keep, keep killing Cain’s brood. He will know if you stop, stop, stop. You are in danger.”
I frowned, watching the wraiths.
“Are you worried about me?”
“We do not worry, worry, worry. But we are sorry.”
“Sorry?” That was the word Becky had used, when she was still Abel’s wraith. I’m sorry, she had said.
“He gave us a message for you,” they said. “Abel told us, us, us. You will be in danger, Frankie Mourning. You must take the name, name, name.”
“Name?” I said weakly.
“He never gives a name, but this time it’s different.”
I couldn’t breathe. My heart was racing. The wraiths were talking to me like I was a person now. Like I was someone to pity.
“What’s the name?”
“We’re sorry.”
“We’ve covered that,” I said. “Tell me the damn name.”
“Thomas Dekker.”
“What?” My voice came out as a wheeze.
The wraiths swirled into shadow, dispersing into the darkness beyond the crossroads. Then I was alone. A raven came down, landing next to me, then another, then another. Soon I was surrounded, the birds standing sentry around me, protecting me.
“You’re a bit late,” I said.
Thomas Dekker. They told me to kill Thomas Dekker. My stitches throbbed, my insides felt like they were on fire, and in the dark, in the cold, with the gravel digging into my skin, I tried to breathe.
“Goddammit, Lilith, you better know what you’re doing. Because this just got a hell of a lot more complicated.”
A raven circling overhead screame
d.
about the author
J.L. Murray is the author of the Niki Slobodian series (Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea, The Devil Is a Gentleman, Before the Devil Knows You're Dead, The Devil Was an Angel, and The Devil's Backbone), The Thirteen series (Jenny Undead and Eat the Ones You Love), After the Fire, Blood Day, Blood of the Stars, and the Blood of Cain series (Monstrous).
Murray is a firm believer that horror can be beautiful, and that good and evil are very far from black and white. She lives with her family in Eugene, Oregon and can be reached through her website at www.jlmurraywriter.com.
Table of Contents
chapter one
chapter two
chapter three
chapter four
chapter five
chapter six
chapter seven
chapter eight
chapter nine
chapter ten
chapter eleven
chapter twelve
chapter thirteen
chapter fourteen
chapter fifteen
chapter sixteen
chapter seventeen
chapter eighteen
chapter nineteen
chapter twenty
chapter twenty-one
chapter twenty-two
chapter twenty-three
chapter twenty-four
chapter twenty-five
about the author