Chapter 9 #2
He’s right, though. I built him up in my imagination as my beacon of hope when in reality, he’s just some fucked up, dangerous creature who enjoyed following me.
Taking a deep, shaky breath, I stare out the window into the darkness beyond. I wish I could cry, but the only emotion that seems capable of breaking through my numbness is the visceral hatred I have for him in this moment.
“So, what happens if I don’t agree to your deal?” I ask.
“Then you’ll be stuck here for a very, very long time… Or, “he adds casually, glancing down at my wrists, “I could simply finish the job you failed to complete.”
Fucking prick.
I may have tried to kill myself, but I’ll be damned if I give a man the satisfaction of taking my life. If nothing else, spite will keep me alive, at least until I’m out of his grasp.
Still, the threat of him killing me hangs in the air between us. He may be an asshole of the highest degree, but there’s no doubt in my mind that he’s dangerous. Invisible power radiates from him even now, as he eats his dinner without a care in the world.
“And if I agree to it? How long would it be?”
“As long as it takes you to collect the number of years I ask from you. That part is up to you.”
“How many years are you wanting me to get?”
“Five hundred.”
Five hundred? “That’s a joke, right?”
His stony expression answers my question before he speaks. “Not a joke. Realistically, depending on the age and health of those you target, you could be done with that in a month.”
I stare at him and contemplate my choices, not that I really have any. I’m stuck either way.
“You’re asking me to profit off people’s deaths,” I say. “Do you realize how fucked up that is to someone who still has their humanity and a moral compass?”
“I’m not asking you to profit off of taking others’ lives. I’m giving you the chance to save your own.”
Silence stretches between us as the wheels in my mind spin furiously. Eventually, I give him the answer he’s waiting for.
“Fine. Tell me everything I need to know.”
Ambrose insists on cleaning up dinner before explaining the finer details of the bargain to me, and each minute that passes feels like I’m one step closer to signing away my soul. I’m festering in anxiety by the time he’s finished washing the dishes, though I don’t bother offering to help.
“This is the key to everything,” he says, gently placing his necklace on the table between us. “It absorbs the lifespans and channels them to me, like I told you earlier.”
“But what about when I’m using it? Would it not affect me instead?”
“It will still work the same way regardless of who uses it. This stone is bound to me through life and death.”
It’s obviously important to him from the gentle way he holds it and the way he speaks almost reverently about its power.
It sits between us, absorbing the yellow overhead light rather than reflecting it, pulsing with the same sort of energy I imagine a black hole would have.
I wonder what would happen if I threw it against the wall.
“There is a chance that some of its magic could transfer to you while you’re wearing it, though,” he says, dragging my thoughts back to the present.
This piques my interest. “What do you mean?”
“With this stone, I am able to channel some—” he considers his words “—powers, I suppose. Not magic like you see in the movies, but subtle supernatural abilities. You may have figured it out by now, but I’m able to change others’ awareness of me.
Not in the way of changing my appearance, but making it so that I avoid perception.
Conversely, I can attract the attention of a roomful of people if I so choose. ”
“So that’s why you seemed to disappear so easily when I’d look for you.”
“Yes.”
“And that’s why you constantly appeared in my dreams. You were forcing me to notice you subconsciously.”
His silence gives me all the confirmation I need. This has all been a game to him, one where he’s been toying with my sanity. Outside the window, the high-pitched whines of crickets and cicadas echoes from the forest.
He clears his throat. “Anyway, I suspect you may be able to channel those abilities, at least to some degree, when you are wearing the necklace. It also serves as an item of protection for me against others with gifts like mine, but I don’t know if that will transfer to you.”
Interesting… “So, there are others like you then? Liminals?” The word is heavy on my lips, as if it’s too powerful for me to speak.
“Yes. Not many, as far as I’m aware, but they do exist. I’ve met a dozen or so in my travels, though I haven’t actively sought any out.”
“And are they all like you?”
“In what ways?”
“Killing people to stay alive, manipulating people’s consciousness. Everything, really.”
“Not entirely. We all survive the same way, and we all have an artifact—like my necklace—that’s used to channel our power, though every person seems to have a unique ability. But as with humans, morality varies widely.”
“How so?” I ask. It’s hard to imagine a scenario where anyone like him could be virtuous.
“I met one woman who has worked as a nurse for decades, and the only lifespans she acquires come from patients who she tried her hardest to save but couldn’t.
I’ve also met an extremely wealthy couple that travels across the world to popular tourist destinations, finds children who have been separated from their parents, and takes their lives since they have more years to give. ”
Nausea churns in my stomach, bile rising in my throat. “That’s just… abhorrent. How could anyone justify something so evil?”
“The measure of a man is what he does with his power,” Ambrose says, quoting something vaguely familiar that I can’t quite place.
I shake my head, trying to erase the image of innocent children being taken like that.
“Okay, so say I get the necklace and temporarily have some power and protection. What’s to stop me from just killing you or destroying the necklace?
” I challenge. If there’s any last chance for me to get out of this, it would be him fearing for his own life, and I imagine that shattering the necklace against the wall would cause some major issues.
His fingers tighten almost imperceptibly against the dark stone.
“I won’t die for a very long time if you destroy the necklace, but remember that the necklace is what channels my power.
If it gets destroyed before both ends of our bargain are fulfilled, then you’re stuck here with me with no way out.
And we’re making a binding deal, so if I die, you die.
So, it may be in your best interest to keep me alive. ”
“I could just take both of us out in one go,” I threaten.
His eyes flash like burning coals as he flashes me a wicked smile. “You could, but I don’t think you will. After all that begging for your life a few nights ago, I think there’s something keeping you alive.”
God, I hate him. Actually, hate doesn’t feel like a strong enough word. Despise. Detest. Loathe. None of them even come close to the vitriol coursing through my veins.
“Anything else I should know?” I ask through clenched teeth.
“One last thing. You’re free to go where you please, but this bargain binds us. Our energies will feed off of each other, so if you’re away for more than a day, it will begin to affect us, though you more than me. You’ll quickly become weaker, unable to function within days if not hours.”
Well, there goes my idea of escaping. “Does it matter how far away I am as long as I’m not away too long?”
“No.”
“How will you know when I’ve collected the right number of years to fulfill the deal?”
“I’ll feel it, within myself and from the pendant.”
I take a deep, steadying breath as I come to terms with what I’m about to do. It can’t be far off from making a deal with the devil.
“Five hundred years?” I ask. “And then I’m free to go with no stipulations?”
He nods. “Yes. That’s the deal.”
I stand from my seat at the table, hesitantly approach him, and hold out my hand. “I accept your terms.”
He places his hand in mine, and it’s surprisingly warm. A chill crawls across my skin as his next four words pierce through me.
“We have a deal.”