Chapter 7 #3
I’d expected Delilah to rejoice for me, even pry for details. We’d both confessed to killing, so why was she looking at me like that? She hadn’t even glanced toward the lip gloss tube, unbothered whether it was shattered or oozing onto the floor.
“How many times have you taken him there?”
“What?” I stammered.
“That realm is no place for ordinary humans. How many times, Sylvia?”
“I—We… I don’t know. Over a dozen times in the last months.”
Delilah’s face drained of color. “Fuck,” she breathed.
She sat up straighter, facing me fully. “You’re killing him.
The astral realm drains mortal life force.
Every time Jon enters that plane of existence, he is notching himself closer to death.
I know people who have dedicated their lives to studying it, only for them to perish after five entries. ”
Dread filled me so suddenly and heavily that my knees began to shake. I managed to lean on the mirror before they gave out entirely.
“You’re lying,” I said in sheer rebuke.
No, this couldn’t be real. It was too sudden, too cruel.
“I’ve seen it. It’s an undignified death.
They try to enter reality again, but never awaken.
They lie, comatose until their body can no longer sustain them.
As for their consciousness in the realm…
It fades. Slowly. Painfully. Becoming a mere whisper of a once-life.
Jon’s mind must be very strong, but he can’t last forever. All magic comes with a price.”
My ears rang, and the dread in my chest moved to my stomach. I was going to be sick, going to pass out as my body rioted against this horrible truth.
I played everything over in my mind: sharp, bright flashes of pleasure and shared laughter in the spectral realm, now rotting into new focus.
Somehow, my wings still obeyed my desperation to move. I rose into the air, scanning the room. I needed space. I had to get away from her, from everyone.
I made it only a few feet forward before my flight wavered, and I dropped several inches suddenly.
“Sylvia—” Delilah rose to follow me, concern tightening her voice.
“I’m fine.” My mouth barely wrapped around the words as I pushed toward the living room.
I had lied.
Jon had entered far more than a dozen times. We had stopped keeping track mere weeks into our tentative fling, too drugged by the electric pleasure of being together—really together.
All this time… Every passionate kiss, every playful hoist of his hips to mine, every time he cupped my face tenderly in his hand the way he loved to, tracing patterns with his thumb—I’d been leading him to an early grave.
What would I have done if I woke up back in reality and couldn’t wake him up? The very image of him, lying there unresponsive in bed with blood smeared on his upper lip.
Stars. His nosebleeds. The way he had staggered in the woods.
His body, his brain, crying out for help and being ignored.
Stupid. I had been so fucking stupid.
Numbness swiftly crawled through me. Vaguely, I was aware I had perched myself on a shelf by the window in the living room. Delilah was near me, trying to convince me to let her soothe my nerves with a spell; she just needed me to say yes, and she’d do it.
The master suite door clicked open, and the voices inside spilled out. Jon and Cliff entered the living room with Lee following a few paces behind. My boys looked handsome in an unfamiliar way, rough and rugged edges sanded down with expensive clothes and a fresh shave.
Jon’s eyes landed on me. He was so terrifyingly good at that, finding me in seconds, though I was a comparatively tiny target to locate.
It’s because he loves me. But that thought only strangled me more, making me fall further apart.
“Go ahead, I know I look ridiculous,” Jon said, gesturing at himself as he approached me.
His white tuxedo shirt was comfortably taut over his athletic frame, the jacket slung over his arm in defiance, like he was waiting until the last possible second to throw it on.
“You agree it’s a little terrifying that Lee was able to find one that fits without my measurements, right? ”
“I’ve never seen grown men gripe about a suit as much as you two,” Lee drawled, leaning against the doorframe and folding his arms. “It’s not as endearing as you think it is.”
“Jon’s right. It would be easier without the creep factor,” Cliff muttered.
Jon was close enough now that he could see me clearly, and his expression immediately tightened with worry. I knew my cheeks were red and wet with tears that I couldn’t hide. Not this time.
“What happened?” His voice jumped an octave. He tossed the jacket to the couch and closed the space to me in a few urgent strides. His gaze narrowed briefly at Delilah. “What did you do to her?”
Delilah was obviously affronted by the assumption, but her venom drained in favor of sympathy. She sighed, stepping back. “I’ll leave you to talk.”
I was acutely aware of Cliff, Ben, and Lee’s stares digging toward us from across the room. Delilah’s hushed voice as she urged Lee into the next room.
It took all my strength to look Jon in the eye as he gently touched my side, giving me a confused look.
“Sylv?”