Chapter 2
After what felt like the longest drive of her life, Sam pulled into a long driveway lined with trees. “What part of Erdikoa are we in?”
Sam parked in front of a house, and he and Lauren exited the car without answering. Rory fumbled with the door handle before scrambling out after them. When her feet were on solid ground, she craned her neck to look at the large log cabin nestled amongst the trees, secluded from everything nearby.
The greenery jumped out at her, and when she spotted bright yellow flowers at the base of the porch, her mouth parted in awe. She’d been so caught up in what happened that she hadn’t taken time to admire the vivid colors of the realm.
Her eyes ate up the scenery, from the deep-orangish hue of the logs to the blue of the sky. “Wow.”
The front door banged open, and a figure she’d recognize anywhere stepped out. Dume’s eyes met hers, and Rory almost fell to her knees. He came.
A look of confusion crossed his face, and he turned to her guards angrily. No, she almost cried. His face made it clear he didn’t know about her arrival.
“Who is this?” he demanded. Only a few times in her life had she seen him this mad, and it made her stomach drop.
“It’s Rory,” Lauren replied. “We gave her a shapeshifting potion to conceal her face. It will wear off in another half hour.”
Rory ran to look in the side mirror of the SUV. A face that wasn’t her own stared back at her, and she ran her hands over the unfamiliar features.
When she turned back to the others, Dume pounded down the stairs. His muscular arms banded around her, almost knocking her over, and her emotions toggled between relief and guilt. She’d put them through hell.
His blinding soul engulfed her, and she had never been happier to temporarily lose her eyesight in all her life.
He pulled back. “I missed you.”
Sniffling, she looked at him, confused, before realization hit her. Was she supposed to say it back? To her, they saw each other only an hour or two ago, but to him, it’d been three months.
“I need to see my little girl,” a familiar voice said from behind them, making Rory’s breath hitch.
Dume stepped aside, and there stood the man she’d known longer than anyone else. Grey streaks peppered his dark hair, and his grey eyes had dulled with age. The golden hue of his skin was beautiful against his green shirt, and Rory couldn’t get to him fast enough.
Her father, Patrick, was a tall man, but she threw her arms around his neck anyway, needing the comfort only he could give. His emerald soul surrounded her as he rubbed a hand over her hair like her mother used to do.
When she pulled back and looked around, her heart dropped. “Mom didn’t come.”
“You didn’t tell her?” Dume boomed, making Rory jump, and when she spun around, he was glaring daggers at Sam and Lauren.
“Tell me what?” she demanded.
Sam crossed his arms and stared at Dume without shame, while Lauren had the decency to look remorseful.
“We thought it would be better if she heard it from one of you,” Lauren explained. “She doesn’t know us.”
Dume looked furious. “You said you were close—”
“We had to explain her early release to her twice,” Sam said, cutting Dume off. “Once when she arrived, and again when we left The Capital gates. You know better than anyone how the memory magic works.”
“Someone tell me what the fuck is going on!” Rory shouted, her emotions so out of sorts that she wasn’t sure if she was angry or scared.
Her father’s hand landed on her upper back as he walked around to face her.
“Your mother saw something,” he began, and Rory’s chest tightened.
She didn’t need to ask what he meant. The prophecy.
“Once you were arrested, she chanted more than usual on her bad days, but on her good days—” His weary eyes slid to Dume.
Panic clawed its way across Rory’s skin, leaving tiny pinpricks in its wake. “On her good days, she what?”
“She became obsessed with getting to you,” Dume answered ruefully.
“What does that mean?” Rory tried to make sense of what they were saying, but too much information was thrown at her in the last hour. “Trying to get to me? I was in Vincula. She would understand that during her good days.”
Her father sighed. “She tried to get herself arrested.”
Rory covered her mouth to muffle a strangled cry.
“Whichever of us was with her always stopped her,” her father continued. “But she had more and more good days.”
Her abilities were retreating? How was that possible?
“Keith stayed with her one night, and in the early morning hours before he woke, she snuck out.” Dume looked apologetic, as if it was any of their faults. “She’d never woken earlier than any of us before, and we didn’t think to put any safeguards to alert us if she tried to leave.”
Rory needed to hear the rest, no matter how painful. This was her fault. “Then what happened?”
Dume and Patrick shared a loaded look. “She waited until one of the local banks opened and tried to rob it.”
“What?” Rory asked and staggered back a step. “And she was arrested,” she concluded, earning a single nod from Dume. “This is all my fault.” Her voice broke.
“No, sport, it’s not,” her father said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “Your mother is a grown woman. By stopping her, we only prolonged the inevitable.”
She pushed him away. “She wouldn’t be in Vincula if it weren’t for me,” she cried, jabbing a finger into her own chest. “I killed by my own free will, and I am every bit the monster they say I am.” She ripped the cap from her head and threw it.
“She predicted this. ‘Darkness is poison,’” Rory recited.
“She tried to warn me, but I wouldn’t stop. ”
She sank to her knees with her head in her hands as sobs racked her body.
“His darkness,” Sam’s deep voice said from the porch.
Rory lifted her head. “What?”
“You said, ‘Darkness is poison,’ but the prophecy states, ‘his darkness is poison.’ It could not have been you to which she was referring.” He looked bored, and she wished she’d thrown her hat at him instead of the ground.
“How do you know about the prophecy?” she asked.
Lauren jumped off the porch, careened around Dume toward Rory, and hauled her up. “Your mother’s incarceration is not your fault. She made her own choices.”
Rory’s pain morphed into anger. “What the fuck is wrong with everyone here?” she shouted as she looked from her father to Dume.
“Why are you even here? You know the fucked up, horrible shit I’ve done.
At least Keith and Kordie had the good sense to stay away.
” She’d tried to ignore their absence because she understood. It still hurt.
“We wouldn’t let them come,” Dume said instead of answering her.
Rory swiped at her face. “What?”
Dume rubbed the hair between his tiny horns.
“What can I say to make you understand that we all love you? None of your victims were innocent.” How would they know?
“People have been coming forward,” he continued, seeing the unasked question in her eyes.
“Nine people said you saved them from a person you killed.”
Rory’s breath caught in her throat. “It doesn’t matter. My actions were horrendous.”
“It does matter,” Sam said, surprising everyone. Rory couldn’t bring herself to meet their gazes as shame settled heavy in her gut. “You sent dangerous people to hell. They would have ended up there, eventually.” He paused. “Or they would have hurt more people.”
What would they think of her if they knew she enjoyed it?
It’s true; she would never kill an innocent, but hearing her victims beg for their lives was music to her ears, and seeing their black souls dissolve made her feel lighter than anything she’d ever experienced.
Sure, guilt pricked her soul momentarily afterward, but the act of killing the wicked was euphoric.
Her friends wouldn’t understand. No one would.
“Your mother wouldn’t have cared if your soul was black,” her father said, and Rory scoffed. “You could have the blackest soul in the realm, and she still would have found her way to you.”
Her father meant well, but his words made her guilt worse.
“Vincula is not the hell hole you think it is,” Lauren said, earning her a death glare from Sam.
“What?” Rory and Dume asked in unison.
Lauren ignored Sam. “Vincula is not what they taught you in school. The scary tales of the prison realm are for deterrence. It’s a functioning town, and the inmates are assigned their own apartments to live in.
There are no barred cells.” She paused when Sam said something to her under his breath.
“I could go on.” She jerked her head toward Sam.
“But this guy will kill me if I continue. I assure you, she will want for nothing.”
Other than Sam dragging Lauren away and whispering angrily, no one said a word. Rory watched the two guards exchange words, and judging by Sam’s reaction, not only did Lauren tell the truth, but she also told highly classified information.
Lauren bitched Sam out, pointing from his hand to her arm, and Rory suppressed a smile. If he grabbed Lauren’s arm again, he might lose a hand.
Sam stalked back to the porch. “We will show you your new living quarters before I take my leave.” Much to Rory’s surprise, his face held no hostility when he spoke to her.
Lauren signaled for Rory to go first and then followed her up the stairs. “He’s not normally like this,” she whispered. “Blunt, yes, but never intentionally rude. He’s upset and taking it out on everyone else.”
“What is he upset about?” Rory asked against her better judgment. She shouldn’t care.
Lauren sighed and shook her head. “Nothing I can discuss with you, but just know it cut him deeply, and I’m afraid he will never forgive the friend who wielded the knife.”
Rory watched Sam’s large back as he barked out information about the house, and her heart ached for him.
He turned to her with a scowl, his earlier expression gone. “Are you listening?”
And just like that, Sam could fuck off.