Chapter Eleven
Elena
The candles wouldn’t stop flickering; they swayed like they were caught in an invisible breeze, bending toward us and away, flames bowing, stretching, trembling, but somehow, never burning out. The air felt thick, syrupy, every breath was heavy in my lungs.
Damian sat across from me inside the circle, with his eyes closed now.
His voice was low and steady at first, but now, it was a deep hum that felt more like some sort of vibration than an actual sound.
He was speaking Latin, I guessed, though I only recognized fragments of the words, something about protection, purification, and a plea or a warning.
Then his voice changed even more, it wasn’t just Latin anymore.
It became three voices, layered, with other sounds, voices.
One was deep and rumbling, the other one soft and high, and one that didn’t sound human at all.
The sound crawled under my skin, and every candle flame bent inward, as if drawn toward him.
“Damian?” I whispered, but he didn’t look at me.
His head was tilted back slightly, his lips moving faster as he kept talking, and his eyes rolled to the back of his head.
His hands had left mine when he started and told me not to be afraid, so now his hands were resting on his knees, trembling and shaking.
“Damian!” I called again, too afraid and worried to even touch him.
He didn’t stop, but his voice broke through for a moment, just one fleeting second, his own voice again. “Stay with me, Elena.” His words came out rough, strained. “Trust me, and only me. Don’t break the circle, I’m still here.”
My throat felt tight. “What’s happening?”
“Take my hand,” he rasped, and I did without a second thought.
Then his eyes faced mine, his almost green eyes stared at me so calmly, he sucked me in and I almost forgot about the chaos around me.
Fuck he was a gorgeous man and I wished we met on different circumstances.
“Be brave for me, Elena. You hear me?” He smiled warmly, his grip around me tightened in a gentle manner that kept me grounded, somehow.
But the word brave did something to me, I could hear myself from last night, believing his words as he fucked me.
Fuck, I promised myself not to go back there.
“Hey.” Damian brought me back. “Stay with me. No matter what happens.” If only he knew the things I wasn’t telling him.
It was for the best, because I was certain no one would help a sick fucked up person like me once they found out the things I had done with a being I couldn’t even see, not even him.
“Okay,” I whispered, and he gave me one last smile, before he was gone again, swallowed by the chant, his voice changing languages, faster and sharper.
The temperature dropped, and my breath turned visible in front of me. I could feel him…it. It was here, it was midnight. And just as I thought it, I heard him; a whisper, so close I thought it came from right behind my ear.
“Oh, my brave girl…” I froze. “You’ve brought a piece of me back,” it said, making my blood turn cold.
I turned my head slowly, every muscle in my neck trembling. “Damian, did you…did you hear that?”
He didn’t move, still, his hands were shaking violently now, his face had turned pale, sweat slicking down his temples, as the words from his mouth sounded like they weren’t his own anymore.
The voice came again, so soft, cold, and familiar in a way that made my heart lurch. “You found me, just as I knew you would?”
My eyes darted around the room, from the walls, to the corners, then the windows. There was nothing there, nothing except the echo of that voice, curling through the dark like smoke.
“Where are you?” I whispered, scanning the shadows. “Show yourself!”
“Careful what you ask for,” it purred.
The lights above us flickered, once, twice, before they died completely, leaving only the candles around us, trembling in their small defiance.
“Damian!” I called again, my voice breaking this time. “Please…” Yet he still didn’t answer.
The whisper turned into laughter, a low, broken, almost joyful sound.
“Look at me,” it said, but I didn’t listen. I kept my eyes shut, trying to focus on Damian’s voice. “Look at me!” he urged again, sounding angrier this time. “Look at me! You brought him here, now look at me!”
No! I wouldn’t! I knew bringing someone to get rid of him would make him angry, but I was choosing to trust Damian, so I held onto his voice, his chants, and I dared not look.
“You want answers? I will give them to you!” It was lying, I wouldn’t fall for it. “Damian,” it called, then my eyes shot open, and Damian’s chants stopped. How did it…?
“LOOK. AT. ME!” And like I was being controlled, my head snapped toward it. The mirror across the room, the one hanging over Max’s dresser, shimmered like water. Then, I saw myself first, trembling, small, and pale in the glow of the candles. Then another shape formed behind my reflection.
A man. Tall, with broad shoulders, and eyes I knew. Eyes that belonged to someone who shouldn’t be here.
“No…” I breathed. “No, you can’t…”
Then a wicked grin spread across his face. “I see you!”
The scream tore out of me before I even knew I was making it.
“DAM…!” I cried out, but before I could finish, Damian’s head snapped up, his eyes flying open and facing me.
They weren’t his eyes anymore, they had gone pitch black, bottomless, like a black hole.
I didn’t know if my flight or fight mode had fried in that moment, because as I looked at myself in the void in Damian’s eyes, I couldn’t bring myself to move.
The air cracked, every candle flame stretched high, almost to the ceiling, before collapsing inward, then the circle shattered.
The salt line broke like it had been kicked apart by an invisible force, then Damian’s body jerked once, twice, and when he spoke, his voice wasn’t his alone.
“Finally,” he said, so deep and wrong, echoing from his throat and something else beneath it. “You brought me home,” Damian said, or whatever was in him now. He turned his head slowly, that same smile spreading across his face. And I knew.
The ghost wasn’t haunting the house anymore, it was sitting right in front of me, in the man who was supposed to be my saving grace, my one way ticket out of this hell
What had I gotten myself into? I thought, and for a heartbeat, everything went still.
There was no sound, no air, just me, the candles, and the thing wearing Damian’s face.
The floor shuddered first, a deep groan like wood snapping under the weight of something huge and unseen, then the windows rattled in their frames, and the air turned thick and electric, like the sky before lightning.
My breath caught in my throat. “Damian?”
He tilted his head, not in the way he did earlier when he first came over, but in a way that felt so not-human. His black eyes flicked toward me, and the smallest smile curved his mouth.
“Oh, our little troublemaker,” the voice rasped, his voice layered with another beneath it, older, rougher. “The wicked things we’ll do to you tonight.”
“Dami…” I dared to whisper, my last thread of hope that maybe he would come back from this, but as the word stuck in my throat, my head snapped to the picture that fell from the wall.
It was a picture of Max, his all-time favorite that he had duplicated, and now it was broken on the floor, the glass splitting in a perfect line in-between the frame.
Then I turned to Damian, and he was still staring at me, like the simple act meant something more than a picture broken in half.
Then thunder roared out of nowhere, and I screamed. My hands flew to my ears as the noise hit, then the roaring of something inside the walls, a low howl that shook the floorboards beneath my knees. I turned, crawling, dragging myself across the rug until my fingers hit the cold tiles.
Then the candles blew out, and darkness swallowed the room whole.
Only the sound of his steps filled it now. They were slow at first, then faster and uneven. The heavy thud of his boots on the wood only got closer, and closer to me. My limbs were weak, but I pushed myself to reach the handle of the door. If I could just…
“Fucking your ass is one of my top five reasons for being here,” it sneered, and the words did something to me. Something I promised myself I would not address, not after the last time, not tonight and not ever.
“Damian, stop, please…” I begged, only to be met with a laugh. The sound was so cruel, echoing loudly like it didn’t fit inside one’s throat.
Then I found the knob and pulled myself up.
I couldn’t bring myself to look back, I just scrambled to my feet and ran.
The hallway stretched too long, the shadows warping into shapes that moved even when I didn’t.
My socks slid against the floor as I grabbed the walls for balance, my nails scraping paint.
I could hear him, feel him, coming behind me.
The sound wasn’t just footsteps anymore, it was everywhere.
The ceiling, the floor, the walls, the very air seemed to pulse with it.
“Run, our brave girl,” the voice taunted. “You always did like a good chase.”
Something slammed into the wall beside me, a fist or maybe the wind, I couldn’t tell. I turned the corner, my heart hammering so hard it hurt, and I nearly tripped over the coffee table. My lungs burned, and my hands shook so badly I could barely grip the door handle to the kitchen.
Damian stood at the end of the hall, motionless, his eyes black and skin so pale, but it wasn’t him anymore. The way he smiled, the way his head tilted as he looked at me, it was someone else looking through him, someone I knew wasn’t about to let me go.
“Where are you going, Elena?”
I stumbled back, slamming into the wall, then spun and bolted through the kitchen doorway.
Pots clattered off the counters as I ran past, sending echoes through the house.
The floor beneath me shook again, harder this time, making the cabinets bang open, dishes flying out and shattering.
Damian had said if anything went wrong, all I had to do was lure the ghost out of Max’s room, then find my way back into the circle of candles and salt, so that was the plan.
I reached the back door that led to the stairs, and my hands fumbled with the lock, slick with sweat.
I pulled and twisted, begging it to open, but nothing.
“Please,” I gasped. “Please, please…”
“Run faster, brave girl. I love it when you try.” His voice was closer now, a whisper against my ear that wasn’t supposed to be there.
The handle gave way, and I threw the door open, stumbling on the floor, the sharp pain on my forehead meant I had cut my skin, but I didn’t care, I got up and made a run for it, back to Max’s room, my brothers room, the only safe haven Damian said I should run toward.