Chapter 25
It was happening again.
Yasmine’s heart pounded, rapid and uneven, as she turned through the room, watching the pandemonium spread.
One guest was desperately clawing up the curtain towards the ceiling; another was slamming his fists against the walls, calling for help, seemingly unaware that it wasn’t a locked door.
She didn’t know what visions they were seeing.
The nightmare looked different to everyone.
But Yasmine saw the monsters.
She’d first met them when she was a child.
She’d just returned from a playdate with Tabitha, and she’d snuck under the fence into the wide field where they kept the cattle.
That was where she saw Wendy. Yasmine’s favorite: the black-spotted heifer with the crooked lip.
She was tilted over in the grass. Yasmine blamed the neighborhood boys, until she walked over to the cow, and saw its stomach was wide open.
Even though she couldn’t remember her mother’s name anymore, she remembered screaming it as she ran into the house. Her eyes were blurry with tears, and maybe that was a blessing, but it was also a curse, because she never clearly saw the faces of the creatures that she found inside.
Her mind had tried to invent a clear picture of them ever since.
That was the horrible and unproductive thing about the human subconscious.
It’s like a pathological detective; it can’t leave a stone unturned.
When you endure something terrible, it will search endlessly for little details that might help you go back and fix what happened to you.
Yasmine wondered for a long time if humans used to have access to time machines, and God had at some point revoked the privilege.
At least the human imagination was restricted to the measly brain.
Yasmine’s imagination leapt and shrieked into the present, and now swarming through the air were pale, malnourished bodies, stricken skeletal things, like baby birds without the feathers.
They were horrible, stomach-churning creatures.
But at this point, Yasmine was used to her mind inventing even worse—what actually paralyzed her was the horror on her guests’ faces as the things grabbed them, stopping them from escaping.
The creatures had one of the Kumars now. The patriarch of the family. A strong businessman with a tight jaw, hundreds of years old, unshakable.
He was crying for his mother.
“Yasmine,” Bella’s voice cut through her terror like scissors. “How do I help you?”
Yasmine’s breath hitched as she kept her hands tightly wound around Bella’s back, fingernails digging protectively into the fabric of her dress.
In that moment, she realized everyone else could go to hell.
The house—every painting, every teacup set, every rug and chandelier—the demons could ransack every inch. Just not her. Not Bella.
“Just stay still,” Yasmine said, voice breaking. “Don’t move. Don’t look at them. They feed on your fear.”
“Them?” Bella asked, voice thin with confusion. “Who are you talking about?”
Yasmine was about to explain, when another voice cut in.
“What are you doing waiting around down there?”
Through the wind in Yasmine’s ears, Ileana’s voice barely registered.
But she could feel Bella tense in her arms. She could feel the bubble of fear around her swell again.
No, no, no. Yasmine’s entire body pulsed with conviction to keep Bella close.
Because if Bella took a single step, the demons would sniff her out.
They’d grab her; they’d terrorize her; they’d break her mind and leave her crying.
And Bella would see Yasmine for who she really was.
A living host to terrible, terrible things.
Bella slowly looked upwards, eyes falling on her mother. She was flapping her wings madly in the air just behind Yasmine.
“I can’t just leave her like this,” Bella shouted back to her.
“Have you lost your mind?” Ileana spat. “Look what’s happening. Your little friend is about to bring this entire house down. Do you want to be crushed?”
“It’ll be fine,” Bella's voice wavered. “She just needs to calm down.”
A tear wet Yasmine’s cheek as Bella slowly pulled back.
She felt like a ship whose anchor had been violently wrenched away by the sea.
Her Nightmare immediately responded to the feeling. The windows blew out, shards of glass flying onto the terrace. The gigantic oaks outside lurched and groaned. The chandelier swept back and forth, its chain whining.
Dear God, get it together.
This would only get worse if she couldn’t put a lid on her emotions. It wasn’t just Bella’s mind at stake; the humans in the house could be killed. Rebecca could die.
As Yasmine tried to concentrate on her breathing, filling her stomach and then emptying it, Ileana suddenly appeared behind Bella, putting a firm, possessive hand on her daughter’s shoulder.
The creatures glanced her way, but they didn’t jump her.
Their freakish noses—which lacked cartilage, so they were more like two gaping holes—sniffed in her direction, then recoiled, like she was rotten.
Yasmine blinked. The nightmare… isn’t affecting her?
Watching their strange reaction, she was reminded of how she found Bella the day of the fire. How the raging flames on the second floor had reacted similarly, rearing like horses on their back legs, fearful of touching her.
“These powers of hers—she drove her own family into suicidal madness,” Ileana said as her enormous black wings unfolded on either side of Bella.
“She’s a thief of joy. She takes everything pleasant inside of you for herself, and leaves you with a gaping maw staring back at you.
I mean, really, her parents had no other choice than to kill themselves before they were just hollow sacks. ”
“That’s…” Yasmine’s lungs felt like they were being filled with nails. Was that really what happened? Had she misunderstood it, all this time? No. No. “That’s not true.” She looked at Bella, desperation filling her entire being. “That’s not true, Bella. She’s lying.”
Bella stared at her, expression unreadable. Despite their closeness, their bodies only inches from each other, Yasmine felt like she was looking at her from across a canyon.
“She really makes you pity her, doesn’t she,” Ileana said quietly, eyes raking up and down Yasmine’s face.
“And I do, I really do. Pity you. Feel for you. I am no stranger to ostracization myself. But my daughter is too important to me. So, you must forgive me for being over-protective. I’m sure you understand. ”
Another twist around Yasmine’s intestines. This one even worse—because she did understand. She would protect Wallace from anything.
She would lie cruelly, too, if it meant he would be safe.
Maybe Ileana was right. Maybe Bella would be better off.
No, not maybe—definitely.
Yasmine’s eyes darkened, and she let the Nightmare pour out of her in tidal waves. Why bother trying to restrain it? There was nothing she could do. She’d had a thousand years to learn and control her demons, and she couldn’t.
If she couldn’t keep Bella safe now, how did she hope to do it later? And if she couldn’t protect a vampire, what about her own son?
She’d never lost it on him, but it was only a matter of time.
She could do everything to extend his life, and maybe she’d end up killing him in the end. Wouldn’t that be just perfect? Maybe everyone would be better without her.
The roof was shaking. The house is coming down.
“Listen to your mom, Bella,” she said, feeling vacant. “She’s right. You should get out of here.”
She turned away from Bella, towards the wall that led into the kitchen.
The creatures were waiting for her there, the whole pack of them smiling toothlessly.
The horror of their faces and their spindly limbs was almost comforting to her now.
Familiar. Maybe it would be good if she went with them this time. She’d never thought of that before.
Just letting them take her away, back to where they came from. Maybe that was how she finally escaped this feeling. Maybe that was her ship back home.
She inhaled sharply, then let out a quiet, choked sob, and took a step forward.
Then, Bella cleared her throat.
“I think you should join Sabina and Teodora by the car, Mother,” she said, causing Yasmine to halt in place. “They must be tired of waiting for you.”
“What?” Ileana snapped.
Bella’s voice gained more conviction. “Yasmine is going to need some help clearing up the dinner table. You raised me with better manners than to abandon the host with all the dirty dishes.”
Something warm touched Yasmine’s back. The press of a palm against her shoulder blades. It felt like a brief storm of rain during a wildfire, an instant relief. The creatures’ lopsided smiles instantly dissolved from their faces.
Ileana took a moment before responding. During that silence, Yasmine didn’t dare move.
“This friendship will not survive the summer. I hope you know that.”
Yasmine couldn’t see Bella, but she could feel her fingers press harder on her back.
They felt like an anchor.
“I agree with you, Mother. It won’t,” Bella said, and nothing more.
Yasmine’s shoulders dropped, her last breath of hope exhaling with them.
But then Ileana snarled. “God—don’t be so.
” She paused, seeming to re-evaluate. “Fine, then, it makes no difference,” she finally decided.
“But don’t expect us to wait for you. Fuel is expensive, and I assume Teodora has been sitting there with her feet kicked up on the dashboard, running the air conditioner. ”
Ileana waited another minute, leaving room for Bella to change her mind, but she didn’t.
Bella stayed. Even though she didn’t believe their friendship would survive the summer, she was still there, touching her, not backing up an inch.
It left Yasmine frozen with disbelief; frozen even after she heard Ileana stalk towards the door.
Even after it slammed closed, and left only a haunting silence.
“Turn around, Yasmine,” Bella whispered.