Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 97397 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97397 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
I pause.
Footsteps echo from somewhere, but the room is still dark. “I’ll give you a hint, I didn’t.” I suddenly feel the weight of her hands on my thighs. “I’m never letting you out.”
Brantley
I shove the door open, not knowing what I’m about to walk into. When I find Ophelia kneeling near the sofa and Saint spread over the top, her jacket undone and her face pale and gray, I know something’s wrong. A brick drops in my gut as my knees buckle and I fall down beside Ophelia. Ivy moves around us, placing a cool cloth on Saint’s forehead.
“What the fuck is happening?” I look to Ophelia for answers, but her mouth doesn’t open. Her eyes are swollen closed from the tears that are clogged around the edges.
“She’s stuck,” a foreign voice says, and I follow it up to where Ivy stands over the sofa, patting Saint’s hair. I have to fight the urge to whack her hand away and remind myself that she is her friend.
“What the fuck do you mean stuck?”
Ivy takes a deep breath. “When you killed Veronica, you didn’t win.”
I pale. “What the fuck?”
Ivy ignores my outburst. Doors open in the background and I know everyone else is here. “When you killed Veronica, you only gave her easier access to Saint.”
“But Ophelia taught her how to keep Lucan out. She can do that again.”
Ivy shakes her head, and I kind of want to cut it off. “Yes, against someone who isn’t experienced in what we are. Veronica is a different being entirely. If she wants” —Ivy gives me a sad smile— “she could keep her there forever.”
I push Ophelia out of the way and sit next to Saint on the sofa. Bishop comes in behind me. “She’s strong. She can do it.”
My head dips and I squeeze my eyes closed to stop the pain from turning into anger. My usual coping mechanism. “She fucking better or I’ll kill her myself.”
Ophelia shakes her head, swiping tears off her cheeks before her shoulders square and a flash of determination displays over her face. “Okay. First thing, when this happened, she felt death in her bones. That is what would have made her emotions vulnerable to Veronica’s entity.”
“I still don’t believe this shit—just sayin’,” Eli grunts from the other side of the room. We all ignore him.
“Which means the death that she felt was not her own.”
“How do you know that?” Madison asks, leaning against the edge of the sofa.
“No, she’s right.” I lift my eyes to Bishop. “Because if there’s one thing my father would always love, it’s the torment and the chase. We know he and Veronica are working together, so they won’t kill her straight away.”
Ophelia stands, her shoulders back and her mouth turning into a straight line. Her eyes move across the floor as if she’s trying to figure something out. A missing piece. “The feeling she had, it could be from the already dead. I mean, it’s just death. It’s not that there’s going to be death necessarily; it could just be because we’re at a wake. A wake equals death.” She makes sense. I let her continue as both Tillie and Madison tense beside me.
Ophelia lets out a soft cry, falling down onto the sofa opposite us, her hands buried in her hair and her shoulders limp. They tremble as cries escape her. “I can’t help her. All I know is what Veronica chose to teach me. It’s like she planned this from the start, even her very own death.”
“You think she knew I was going to kill her?” I ask, watching as Ophelia slowly lifts her head up and her eyes connect with mine.
“I’m saying she was probably counting on it.” Her answer isn’t what any of us want to hear.
“I don’t buy it,” Bishop growls, picking up Saint’s head and sitting where she lies, her head now on his lap. “Vitiosises have a notorious will to live.”
“Not this one—” My eyes connect with his. I know he catches my meaning. “—Not this one if she doesn’t come back.”
Bishop’s jaw flexes, and amongst the chaos, I’ve not noticed how many people are in the room. Bishop, Nate, Tillie, Madison, Ophelia, Ivy, Eli, and Hector and Scarlet.
Hector’s eyes narrow on Saint. “This is the cost of holding that curse. Every day for the rest of her life she’s going to bear this, Brantley. When everyone else is closing their eyes to get sleep, she will be closing hers to meet people on the other side that she may not want to. It’s why it’s called a curse. You can’t escape it or break it. Fucking gift, my ass.” Minutes turn into hours. I go from drinking whiskey to water, to switching positions with Bishop as he helps escort people out of his house so no one suspects what’s happening in here or why most of us have disappeared. Tillie is asleep on the floor, spooning Madison, and Ophelia and Ivy are asleep on the other side of the room. Hector is asleep, resting his head on the back of a single sofa with Scarlet curled on his lap, his tie pulled and jacket unbuttoned. I still don’t know how I feel about him running for president. I think it’s a shit idea, but it will work for TEKC. We’ve never had one in the White House before so it will be a game changer for us. Though we’re looking at years and years from now when he would be going. He wants to build, run for governor, do all that fake shit before running for the presidency. I moan inwardly at my poor attempts of distraction.