Chapter 48
Dear Ol’ Dad
When I opened my eyes again, the light stabbed instead of shone.
It wasn’t just bright. It was invasive, white and hot, making the inside of my skull throb. Then a shadow loomed over me. My vision fought to focus, sorting shapes from the blur of light and dark until the shadow solidified into a man.
“She’s awake,” the Mod leaning over me said in his muffled voice. It wasn’t Zade’s.
I was surprised my voice worked at all, though barely. The scream that tore out was hoarse and ragged, more breath than sound. I tried to get up, to run, but my head felt welded to the pillow.
“Don’t tou—”
“Hey there, Belles.” Zade’s head popped into view beside the armored Mod. In his plain clothes, standing next to a man in black plating, he looked like he’d wandered in from the wrong scene. “You’re safe. I’m right here with you.”
“Wh—” My mouth stuck together, the words burning in my throat.
Zade reached behind him, grabbed something, then slid a hand under my head. A cup touched my lips. “Drink.”
The water went down like glass splinters, and I coughed, choking.
Zade sat me up, and the other Mod pressed a towel into his hand to catch the water spilling from my mouth.
Now upright, the noise in the rest of the room came into focus. Marigold stood in the corner of what looked like a sleek, modern space—all chrome lines and too-clean lighting that didn’t belong with her raw screaming. She was hitting Soren.
“Go back and get him! You can’t just abandon him!”
Soren slumped against the wall. “We will get him back.” When he realized I was watching, he stumbled toward me. “Eliana! You’re awake.”
I opened my mouth to ask what happened, but the room pitched sideways. The edges of my vision bled into black, and I fell backward. Gone again.
Music drifted from somewhere down a long, dark hallway. I walked toward it, toward a soft blue glow. Then I found myself in a brilliant white room, two ornate thrones at its center. Someone sat in one, but their features wouldn’t stay in focus.
“Come to me,” the voice sang gently.
A pressure started just between my shoulder blades as if something were trying to bloom out of me.
The room trembled with a small jostle.
Muffled voices bled in.
“…just have to get over it. Everything’s changing.” Astrid’s voice.
I fought to open my eyes. My lashes felt glued together.
“Yeah, too much if you ask me.” Zade’s voice was closer.
My eyelids parted.
“Zade,” I rasped.
“Hi there, sweetie.” Not Zade. Winifred. She sat near my head.
Zade appeared instantly at her side. “I’m right here, Belles.”
My vision blurred, but I forced it into focus. I was lying on a purple velvet sofa inside a moving room paneled in dark wood, the walls broken by polished brass trim. Someone touched my leg.
“How are you feeling?” It was Astrid.
I tried to lower my chin to see her better, but it felt like my neck belonged to a mannequin. I groaned instead.
“Don’t try to move too much yet,” Winifred cooed. “Give your body time to wake up.”
“What happened? And where are we?” My voice croaked, but at least it no longer scraped like tiny, vindictive knives.
“We’re on a private train,” Zade said. He glanced at Winifred, then back at me. “You got hit.”
My head swirled, trying to recall the events before I blacked out.
Screaming. Explosions. Running.
Soren hovering over me—and then Zade carrying me.
Soren covered in blood.
“Soren...” I whispered.
“He’s alright,” Winifred said evenly. “Resting in the other car.”
“Car?” Apparently, my vocabulary was down to one word at a time.
“We’re on a MagFlux,” Astrid explained.
Moving my chin was easier now. Astrid looked better. Cleaner, patched up. But still not herself. Same with Winifred and Zade.
I dug my elbows into the velvet to push up. All I managed was a shallow rise before the groans returned.
“Easy,” Zade warned. “Whatever your demon-boyfriend did to you, it’s gonna take a while for you to adjust.” His arm slid under me, steady as he pulled me up.
On a MagFlux?!
That means we’re in The Tower! Have we been caught?
“Where are we going?” I wheezed.
“We’ve been summoned,” Zade said with a dry laugh that crinkled his eyes. The word sent the phone call from my nightmare ricocheting in my skull. “Someone inside The Tower wants to help us take ‘em down.”
I tried to breathe, but my chest felt heavy, like my ribs were resisting my lungs.
“Where’s everybody else?”
“In the next car up,” Astrid said, pointing toward a door just as it slid open.
“Good morning, Sleeping B—” Adriel made a gagging noise, cutting off what would probably be some kind of almost-compliment. “She’s awake,” he called toward the other cabin before strolling toward Astrid. “‘Bout time she joined the land o’ the livin’ again.”
Okay. That relationship’s still real.
And just as weird as I remembered.
Astrid must have caught some trace of what I’d been thinking in my expression because color bloomed across her cheeks, and she quickly looked away.
A bang from the door slamming open announced Soren’s entrance.
He leaned against the doorway with both hands braced on either side of the frame, slumped forward, eyes hollow, mouth slightly open.
He was looking at me exactly like he had the first time we met at Nian’s.
Like I was the key he’d been searching for and had finally found, though the weight of whatever it opened was bound to break him.
Or like prey.
“Take it easy, Soren!” Winifred bounded from her seat beside me to rush toward him.
Marve appeared behind him just as Winifred reached his side. Neither of them was tall enough to get under his arms if he were standing straight. But he wasn’t. He was bent nearly in half as they tried to keep him from collapsing, his long legs dragging forward, lunging toward me.
“Get away from her!” he growled at Zade.
“You’re not really in the position to be handing out threats, Devil Spawn,” Zade laughed, though he slid aside to make room. “You saved her life, so I’ll let it slide this time. Next time, I’ll put one right where that stupid gravelly voice comes from and end your miserable existence at last.”
I had to slap my hand over my mouth to keep the laugh in, because Soren’s voice irritating Zade was probably the best thing I’d heard in a while.
It was my right hand I’d used.
No pain.
How?
I pulled my hand away, turning it palm-up, then over, curling and flexing my fingers.
No tape, no swelling, no sign they’d ever been broken.
Both arms were spotless, with no cuts, no scrapes, not even a bruise.
Now that I thought of it, the only discomfort I could feel was a bone-deep stiffness, like my body was tired rather than hurt.
“But my skin…everything is—” My voice thinned. “Gone? What happened to me?”
“You should have known I’d take care of you,” Soren said, his weight pressing against my side as he leaned closer.
I looked from my unmarred arms up to his face and shrank back slightly at how close he was, and how dreadful he looked.
What did you do? I didn’t ask. I had a feeling I didn’t want to know.
The train lurched to a stop. Soren’s arm shot out, steadying me before I could pitch forward. Normally, he’d have been solid as steel, but this time his catch was barely enough.
Something was seriously wrong with him.
I didn’t get the chance to ask because the door he’d come through a moment ago slid open, and a Moderator in full armor stood there, visor aimed directly at me.
I pressed myself against the seat, scanning frantically for my crossbow—but it was nowhere in sight. I wasn’t sure Soren could protect me in his current state, and no one else seemed to have weapons on them.
No one seemed to be panicking, either.
“We’re here,” the muffled voice announced.
He stepped further inside, and Salah came in behind him. She gave me a small smile that didn’t even pretend to reach her eyes before moving to sit by herself.
Marigold entered next. She didn’t look at me, or Soren, or anyone. Her gaze strayed far away, her entire focus somewhere I couldn’t follow. She stopped just inside the door as it slid shut.
The Mod kept speaking over a loud clicking sound. “This car will park in Master’s private lot. You will be able to move safely to his residence, where he will be waiting for you.”
Our train car began to rotate slowly.
I glanced at Soren, whispering, “Master?”
“It’s not who you think it is,” he said. But his eyes cut toward Marigold, and his posture seemed to sink even further.
Something green and sharp slid through my veins.
The train started forward again, and we all sat in absolute silence. I didn’t know why, but I knew not to speak either. Instead, I flexed the fingers of my right hand again.
Soren’s hand found mine, his fingers lacing through. The chills that spread through me weren’t from his usual cold touch. His skin was warm.
He seems too human.
Something’s wrong with him. Or is something wrong with me?
“Welp!” Adriel finally shattered the quiet, standing and stretching. “If no one else is going to tell her, then I will.”
He smiled with that devilishly marred grin. Zade and Astrid both stood at once, eyes wide, shaking their heads.
“Shh!” Astrid stepped into his path. “Just let me explain in a minute. Maybe when we aren’t all stuck in a tin can together.”
He frowned, but before he could argue, the train lurched to a stop once again.
“Everyone, follow me, please,” the Mod instructed as two side doors slid open.
Astrid held me back as the others began spilling into a dark concrete chamber. Soren’s hand moved to my back. I told myself to pull away, but the urge didn’t match the reality—not when he looked so pitiful, leaning against the frame of the train for support.
And maybe pulling away wasn’t the best thing I could do to myself after all. Not after death had crept so close and whispered its list of what I’d regret most, with Soren’s name dangerously close to the top.