CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Silence hits the room with the loaded tension of a cocked gun. It snaps into place, freezing everyone in the room.
“Baby, you can’t stay here.” Aamon’s the first to speak, his expression edging on desperation.
The statement makes me chuckle weakly. “Well, I know. Once it’s morning and the snow stops—”
Malakar cuts me off, voice a sharp whip. “Why?”
“Because I have a Mom,” I tell them softly.
“And my dad ... he’s not doing so well. I can’t .
.. I can’t leave them. She needs my help to look after him and .
.. I don’t ... I don’t have the luxury of thinking of just myself.
Maybe I could before, but not now.” I nibble down on my bottom lip and drop my gaze to the corner of the blanket I’m twisting around a finger.
The whole thing is a blur behind tears I can’t contain.
“I’m sorry. I swear, this is all I want more than anything, but. ..”
Aamon captures my chin. His fingers stroke the first tear off my cheek. He coaxes my attention to his beautiful face.
“They will be okay. Your parents are strong. It will hurt for a little bit, but they will continue one day at a time.”
The quiet sentiment would be reassuring if he wasn’t asking me to simply vanish from their lives without a note. Without a single word as to where I’ve gone. It would devastate them. It could possibly kill my dad.
I slap his hand away, temper flaring.
“I’m not going to run off to some magical realm without at least saying goodbye to my parents, especially if I’m never going to see them again.”
Ciaran puts a hand up when Aamon opens his mouth to answer.
“You’re right. What we’re asking is a lot.
There is no simple solution we can offer, but our window is closing.
Once we’re gone, we will lose you forever.
Not even Father will have the power to bring you to us once midnight strikes.
” He takes a long, slow breath. “We will be lost without you, little one. You are our last hope. I don’t say that to confuse your thoughts.
But once we return and you’re not with us, there will be no more doors. No coming back.”
My heart cracks in my chest as I watch the pain in his eyes plead for understanding. He watches me with such desperation my stomach knots.
“Can you come home with me?” I ask instead.
Malakar and Aamon avert their eyes to the ground. Ciaran’s the only one who sighs and shakes his head.
“You will be gone once we leave. You will be lost to us forever..”
My heart sinks even as a cold chill passes across my naked skin. The prickling sensation of bracing for the worst has me tightening my hold on the blanket. Feeling small and helpless.
“Can I bring my parents?”
His fingers skim my hair back off my temple. “They can’t go where we are.”
Tears burn as I search each of their faces, seeing the fear reflected back.
“I can’t,” I choke out. “My parents need me.”
Ciaran says nothing, but I feel my words crush him. I feel the withdrawal before he even pulls back.
“Rina.” Malakar’s voice, quiet, pleading, cuts me. “Please, sweetheart, don’t do this.”
“I know!” I scrub at the tears burning streaks down my cheeks.
“I want to. You have no idea how badly I want to stay with you, but disappearing without a word will kill my parents. It will kill my dad. He’s already so sick and.
..” I press a trembling hand over my breaking heart. “They’re my parents.”
No amount of stressing the fact absolves the raw agony threading through my system. It doesn’t ease the sorrow that this is the last time I’ll ever see them.
Ciaran closes the space between us and pulls me hard into his chest. His fingers slide into my hair and my face is guided to his shoulder.
“Come back with us.” His finger settles gently over my lips when I start to protest. “For a moment. Let Father see you at least once more. If you still wish to stay behind, we will return you before the window closes.”
It’s a risky move.
They could lie to me. They could trap me in this other world where I can never come back.
But I know that would never be the case. Despite the short amount of time I’ve known them, I trust them without a single shred of doubt. I believe them. A part of me that is much bigger than it should be, cares for them. Loves them. I love them with the full extent of my heart.
I love the creature waiting for me in their world. It’s all so crazy and I don’t understand half of what’s happening, but that is the only fact I am fully in agreement with.
“What about my aunt?” I sniffle. “Can we bring her? She can’t stay in this place like that. Can we help her?”
“No, my love.” He strokes my cheek. My hair. Running his hands over me like he’s trying to imprint the feel of me to memory. “She’s too far gone. She’s accepted this fate.”
“We need to hurry.” The edge in Malakar’s voice has us turning to him, but he’s staring at the ceiling. “We’re getting damn close to midnight and we’re no longer the only things in this place.”
That seems to be all the provocation needed for Aamon to leap to his feet. Malakar follows and both help me to my feet. Ciaran hurries to gather his clothes while the blanket is knotted around my shoulders with sure knots.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“All those pockets your aunt opened up in this place are starting to overflow,” Malakar mutters, attention fixed in the direction of the hallway. “We’re about to have a lot of unwanted company.”
“Monsters?” I gasp. “Like the snake woman?”
“Worse,” Aamon sighs. “Lesser, stupider creatures. Weak ones that have to wait until midnight to pass through.”
I think how early they arrived and wonder just how powerful they are if the others couldn’t get through until now. But I don’t ask. There’s no time when Malakar captures my fingers and tugs me into his side.
“Stay close. Don’t look at anything.”
I frown up at him. “How am I supposed to walk if I don’t look?”
“He means don’t stare too long,” Aamon clarifies. “If you see them, they can see you and we’re already running out of time.”
Fair enough. I definitely don’t want to be seen by any more creatures.
“I’m scared,” I blurt.
I’m in Malakar’s arms with his mouth crashing over mine before I can finish. His kiss is a violent, possessive attack that steals every drop of air from my lungs.
“We would die before letting anyone touch you,” he vows with serrated force against my lips.
With a last brutal kiss, he pulls back and recaptures my fingers.
With Ciaran at my back and Aamon on my other side, I’m led through the doorway and into the foyer.
The clock is gone.
The painting of Dante’s Inferno is back.
The door leading into the dining room glows an eerie white like someone has left a TV on somewhere inside. It flickers and shifts, casting long, twisting tendrils across the walls.
Malakar tugs me in the direction of the hall. My gaze flicks up the stairs to the dark tunnel broken only by the faint, yellow glow I know is coming from Aunt Laura’s room.
Above our heads, the ceiling groans. The walls creak. Somewhere in the house, something shatters. Claws scuttle behind us, but Ciaran won’t let me turn.
My fingers tighten around Malakar’s.
In the kitchen, I jump at the sight of a tiny figure standing in the middle of the room. A toddler, no higher than my hips. dressed in a diaper and a blue t-shirt. His little cherub face pulls into a gummy smile that contains only a single tooth.
“Hi,” I blurt.
The child squeals like I’ve declared a game and toddles on pudgy legs straight for the open basement door.
“No!” I start after him, panic cold in my chest at the thought of him tumbling down those stairs.
Malakar hooks an arm around my waist and hoists me back.
“What did I tell you?” he snaps.
“He’s a baby,” I pant.
“Nothing in here is what you think,” he mutters, setting me down.
I try to steal a peek into the black void of the stairs as I’m hurried along, but Malakar’s hold is unwavering.
Aamon grabs the knob leading out the backdoor and twists it open to the calm, dark night.
“The storm is over,” I muse, watching the faint shimmer of dainty snowflakes drift against the black backdrop of the sky.
It’s beautiful in its stillness. Even the wind has calmed so the naked branches don’t sway.
In the horizon, endless darkness yawns through a tumbling ocean of forest that seems to stretch forever into the night.
“We’re not dressed,” I whisper when Ciaran pushes open the screen door and leads the way down the first step barefoot.
At least they have clothes. I’m wearing a blanket.
“You don’t need clothes where we’re going,” he assures, reaching for my other hand and helping me down.
Snow envelops my feet to the ankles. Soft, delicate powder that holds no bite. No moisture. I could be moving across a beach, toes sinking into sand. Only more compact.
“It’s so beautiful.”
I shut my eyes and inhale. I feast on the sweet scent of pine and cloves. Of winter in a bottle without the cold. I smell the earth beneath the snow and water so crisp and clean, my mouth waters.
In the distance, a white hare with small antlers scampers through the foliage. A single blade of shiny black snaps off an ivory branch and crashes to the ground. It shatters into a million shards of glass across the snow.
Overhead, the moon sways through all eight of her phases in the time it takes for me to take my first step.
It’s magic and magical.
It’s primal. Ancient beyond simple human understanding. I have lived twenty-seven years in a jungle of concrete, of loud noises and angry people. And never, not once have I felt such profound balance. Such a shift of peace.
I don’t remember letting Malakar’s hand go, but I’m moving alone through trees as thick as ten men and so tall, I can’t see their tops.
I’m stepping through moss and over smooth stones like I’ve been here a million times.
All around me, the world hums with a melody as old as the earth itself and I close my eyes as it plays across each bone with loving harmony.