Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 88849 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 444(@200wpm)___ 355(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88849 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 444(@200wpm)___ 355(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
“What?” My voice was wrangled. What the hell was going on?
Kellan stepped forward in the darkness, but I saw him clearly as if it were daylight. His eyes were overcast, and his shoulders slightly slumped. “Because of the spell you did tonight. You turned a human into a zombie. Do you know what kind of power that takes? He thought you were ready.”
“You turned him back.” And he’d done it so easily.
“I know who I am. I know what I can do. I know what I’m supposed to do. I know what I can’t do—not you. You don’t know any of that.”
“That guy told me that I’m not ready to know.”
“What does my opinion matter? I’m not your brother, remember?” Kellan stepped closer and asked softly, “Isn’t that what he said?”
I swallowed tightly. Painfully. “He said that I’m not a demon.”
“You’re not.”
“How can you—how can you be casual about this? He told me that I’m not one of you, and you’re acting like you don’t care. It’s like we’re talking about if we should walk the dog or something.” My chest was starting to hurt. My heart started to pound faster. And I knew something was coming, something I wasn’t ready for.
Kellan felt it, too. I saw how his nostrils flared and felt his excitement. He was the predator in that moment, ready to pounce on whatever burst through the gate. I felt him whisper against my skin, “I am anything but casual, Shay. You can feel it from me. I can feel you, too. I know that you’re holding back. You always hold back.”
“You get mad at me when I don’t.” I felt him behind me, beside me, in front of me. He hadn’t moved one step, but I sensed him circling me, measuring me. “What are you doing?”
“It’s the demon. He’s reacting to you.” His voice was curt.
My body started to tremble, shaking back and forth. My heart picked up its pace, and my chest hurt. Opening my mouth, I tried to let out a cry in pain, but nothing came out. My voice had been choked off.
Kellan watched a few inches away with cold eyes. His watched mine.
“What’s happening to me?” My throat felt like I’d swallowed thorns that slowly were going down, dragging from within, tearing into my skin.
He shook his head and moved back.
I felt his withdrawal and lurched forward. I needed him close. I needed him. When my feet remained in place, everything ricocheted inside of me. It was like I was slamming against an invisible cage, one that was inside of me and Kellan didn’t care at all. He almost seemed to enjoy my suffering.
He bent his head, and his voice glided toward me in the air. “You can’t hide from what’s demanding to come out. The more you’re with me, the angrier it will get.”
“Kellan?”
I felt him leaving.
“Kellan!” I could no longer see him. “Where’d you go? Come back.”
I was left with a whole host of “what the hells” going on in my head. The painter knew me. He knew Kellan. Kellan knew him. They both knew that I wasn’t a demon. They knew more than what they shared tonight, and somehow I also knew this other information, too, but wasn’t allowing myself to know it. Again—what the hell?
Then the man from my vision spoke to me. “You will learn. You are still a child.”
His voice haunted me, but I couldn’t see him. I couldn’t see a ghost, and I was thankful for that little bit, which was ironic, considering I’d grown up in a demonic family.
When Kellan left, the mounting anger stopped inside of me. I didn’t feel like I was inside of a cage, and instead, I was alone in a darkened hallway of my school. I could’ve convinced myself there’d been no painter, no Kellan, no haunting voice. Just me. I was merely a student. Human. But the overwhelming peace that entered me when I heard the old man’s voice was too strong for me to ignore.
My relief when I heard that I wasn’t a demon was too powerful. There was something inside of me, something I couldn’t control. Kellan was right. I felt like a ticking time bomb. It was a matter of time before I exploded. There’d be no more answers that night. Sighing, I did what I always did when an urge was blasting inside of me. I painted. Four hours later, the result wasn’t what I expected. My last painting had been of three angels descending. The painting before that had been a trail in a forest. This one was of me. I wore a cloak that was pulled over my head with my face peering out. There was a light behind me, and I was half-turned toward it. A shadow of something was coming out of the light, and my expression in the painting was that I was reluctant for some reason. I should’ve been scared. Kellan told me that I was scared of everything.