Chapter 16
Ijust wish he didn’t get under my skin so much.
I also wish Atlas wasn’t so godsdamn in my face all the time.
He’s catching me in my usage of words, and I’ve got to be more careful.
I’d fully rather have them both thinking I’m a monster than try to unravel who I am.
It’s safer for not only them, but myself, if we just get through this without becoming more than acquaintances.
To just know each other by name, and that’s it. A fleeting memory of one another once this is all over. That’s all I want, and having that Mundane prying is going to cause problems.
Turning on the sink, I let the cold water run in hopes it will warm over my hands. This bathroom looks like a walking disease. While I would flush any infection out, it smells foul, and I’d rather not risk feeling sick.
Seeing steam finally billow up from the water, I squirt some soap into my palm and start lathering it through my fingers. A soft squeal echoes in the relatively quiet bathroom, as if someone was opening one of the stall doors. The only sound other than that is the water I’m shoving my hands under.
The lights had been flickering when I walked in, but one of the two elongated fluorescent fixtures buzzes and then shuts off suddenly. I rub my hands together and look up at the remaining one—it’s filled with dead flies and, I think, moths—and when it flickers, I quickly divert my gaze back down.
A soft thump has me jerking my head toward the door. This is a unisex bathroom, which already made me uncomfortable, but I asked the lady at the front to let me lock it while I went. She granted that, so I’m not entirely sure why I’m nervous someone is about to walk in on me.
My heart rate spikes slightly as a sudden presence feels like it’s hovering over my shoulder. A dark, grungy sensation crawls across my neck, and I shiver with how intense it is.
I release an unsteady breath and quickly swing around, my fist balled with the intent to knock out whatever it is behind me.
Nothing.
Leaning toward the sink, I fumble for the faucet. Something is here, and while I can’t see it, I’m no fool. This feeling is dark, and my throat feels like it’s being squeezed.
Finding the slick metal under my fingers, I turn the water off.
Then a chill runs across my skin, and sharp needles prick along my forearm. A grip clamps onto me, wrenching me around, and before I can brace myself I’m yanked so hard my face crashes into the mirror, shattering the glass instantly.
Pain spreads across my forehead and cheeks as blood pools down straight into my eyes. I go to scream, but nothing comes out—only silence. My heart-wrenching cry escaping as nothing more than a breath of air.
Black smoke creeps out from the concrete behind the broken mirror, and as the black hand with long claws holds tightly to my wrist, another one peels forward toward me. My knees crumble, but before my legs can give out, the creature grabs hold of me, refusing to let me fall.
The familiar monster is a haunting fusion of beast and shadow; its form shrouded in dripping black tendrils that merge with the black smoke billowing around it.
Its face—an expressionless, pale deer skull with hollow eyes yet filled with a menacing presence—creeps closer toward me.
Jagged antlers twist upward like branches scraping the walls as it emerges from the abyss of my nightmare.
A Grimhorn. A servant to Belial himself.
Its figure is draped in a tattered decaying robe and reeks of death and rotten earth. Wisps of mist drift from it as it rises to its full height over me, and as it lifts, so do I. I’m held up by just my arm, kept at eye level with the creature from the Beyond.
Its free hand moves toward my face, the ice-cold black skin engulfing my entire head as I try to jerk away. The touch trails down to my chest and I whimper out, “L-Leave me alone…”
A sharp pain shatters my plea. I drop my head in horror to see the creature has embedded its entire hand into my chest, fingers wrapped around my heart—and squeezes.
“Her Amarah. I have found you.”
It tightens its grip on my wrist, the bite of its nails slicing into my skin and drawing blood. I don’t feel the pain it should cause, because it’s quite literally holding my life in its grasp.
“N-No…”
“Foolish girl, you thought you could hide forever?”
“How…”
Its mouth opens, and I taste the vile smell of death on its breath, the endless teeth stretching straight down through its throat.
I close my eyes, ready to be consumed by this creature.
“Fight, Amarah darling. Fight!”
My mother’s voice rushes through me, sending clarity into my head. I thrust my arms outward, feeling energy blaze across my skin. When I reopen my eyes to see the creature, it’s gone. The mirror in front of me is no longer shattered, and the steam that had consumed it has vanished.
My eyes are glowing gold, but indigo roots creep from my scalp over my white hair, and the darkness surrounding my eyes has receded. However, the crack coming from my hairline on the right side of my face has dragged closer to my eyebrow.
Then suddenly, the door to the bathroom crashes open. My fighting instinct kicks back in, and I thrust out the magic I managed to channel to escape the Grimhorn.
Pain rips through my chest as it makes contact… with Kayn.
The moment it slices across his upper arm, I sever the connection.
Bright sparks of light burst between us, like small fireworks in the night sky.
He looks furious, but that doesn’t stop him from whipping his head around like he expects the creature to appear again. “Where is he?”
My heart feels like it’s ready to climb out of my throat as he hurries in front of me. “Amarah! Answer me. Where is he?!”
“W-Who…?” I just nearly cut his head off, and I’d have put myself into a worse fate than the one I’m already living.
When my knees wobble, he grabs my arms and keeps me upright. “The person that called your name. Where… is he?” he grits out through his teeth, and I’m stunned, but not for any reason he could ever understand.
“You… heard it?”
His bright crimson eyes lock on mine. “Yes.”
I turn to the mirror that shows no evidence of the horror I just went through, where I’m greeted once more with the hexed indigo, and a hollow expression on my face. The broken girl staring back at me—sunken cheeks, darkened eyes—is far more exhausted than she seemed just moments ago.
Swallowing, I look back at Kayn, but not at his face—just his chest, rising and falling. Vampires don’t need to breathe, yet he struggles like he can’t find his breath.
“It…” My body fights me, and I shake my head, knowing I can’t explain it without telling him everything. “I was talking to myself.” The knot in my stomach makes me feel like I’m seconds from vomiting.
His hand engulfs my chin, fingers pressing firmly as he tilts my head up, forcing me to meet his gaze. “That wasn’t your voice,” he grits out, “and I… Something was off. What happened?”
I smile somberly. “Nothing, Butcher… Absolutely nothing that concerns you.”
For the first time since meeting him, I truly fear him. His eyes darken to half-mast, the frown on his face stabs right into my gut, and the low, throaty growl rumbling out of him slides straight down my spine.
“Psycho and crazy.” He releases my face and steps away from me. “What a combination, Holloway.”
Turning my head away before I start screaming, I cross my arms under my chest and fold into myself.
He tuts and steps away from the door. “Go to the car.”
I don’t wait for a second command. I run.
The next couple of hours are quiet. It’s like Atlas can sense something happened, but refuses to ask. I don’t blame him; neither Butcher nor I would answer if he did, and it’s like he knows it.
When we pull off the road and down a rocky trail, finally coming to a stop, I’m ready to be free of this cramped space.
“I’ll make your tent,” Atlas says with a smile directed right at me.
I don’t know if he feels bad for me or if he genuinely wants to help, but I appreciate it. As much as I’d like to be independent enough to put it together myself, I’m exhausted and my arms hurt.
That damn Grimhorn broke me mentally, shattering whatever strength I had in keeping my past separate from my present. It was a sign that she can—and will—reach me. I was safe behind the wards.
Vendra?
I sigh as I watch both Atlas and Kayn work in the dark to set up camp for the night.
I’m mad at him for being so attractive. The Vampire. Atlas is handsome, but my Gods…
It isn’t fair. He’s truly massive. Broad shoulders, strong everywhere, and I’m sure if I saw him without a shirt he’d have a six-pack, if not more.
The tattoos I’ve glimpsed look like they belong on his skin, like he was born with them.
From the dragon on his right upper arm clutching a sword, to what I think is a lioness on his left forearm, he’s an inked… brute.
And then there’s his hair and full beard. Ugh. Men like him should be bald with patchy stubble. He shouldn’t get to have all of it: muscle, height, hair, tattoos. Yet he does. It’s unfair that someone like him would be granted all of that.
Someone like him…
I lean my head back and take back my thoughts.
He isn’t the problem, and it’s obvious whoever he’s trying to reach is someone special to him.
Doesn’t make me hate him any less, because the way he went about this is reckless.
All he had to do was go back to Thornegate during the day, ask why he couldn’t say my name, and I would’ve given him permission to give it to whoever he wanted.
He didn’t need to break me out.
All of this could’ve been avoided. As much torment as I was going through in that place… what awaits me out here is far scarier. Physical pain and humiliation can be blocked out; I’d become so good at it that most of the punishments didn’t hurt anymore.
Heat pricks behind my eyes, and I release a shaky breath. There’s no good anywhere my road leads. I’ll always find the inevitable cliff waiting for me, ready to swallow me into the crater that will be my tomb.
A hand wraps around my good forearm, and I instinctively try to pull away. The grip is too tight for me to get far, and when I trail my gaze along the inked skin up to Kayn’s face, he sighs.
“Come on.”
I scoot past the steering wheel and step out into the brisk night. It’s pitch-black, and I have no idea what’s out there, but the moment my toes touch the cold dirt, relief washes over me.
This time, my sigh is one of content. They can’t get me here, and I’m more grateful than ever that I won’t have to face a mirror tonight or sleep too far away from someone who could tear apart anything that comes close to me.
I may not like the man who puts his hand on the small of my back, but because he needs me, I know I’m safe—at least until he realizes how futile this attempt is. Then I’m sure he’ll snap my neck and move on. If only that fate were in the cards for me. How easy my end would be.
The tent isn’t big, but it’s enough for just me. Inside, a small red light reveals the sleeping bag and a few extra blankets.
I glance around for Atlas.
“He’s taking a piss,” Kayn whispers. “Answer me something, little slayer.”
Gods, I wish he’d stop calling me that.
“What, Butcher?”
He bends down, his hair brushing my shoulder. “Do you really think that I’m stupid?”
My heart leaps straight into my throat, and I struggle to swallow it back down.
As much as I’ve called him stupid, I don’t truly think he is.
I do believe he’s rash and makes decisions too quickly, but if I’m right that the person he’s searching for is someone he cares about, well…
people tend to be hasty for the ones they love.
“No,” I croak.
“And I don’t think you’re stupid, either. Quite the opposite, actually… I think you’re too smart for your own good. So tell me—why are you being stupid and lying to me?”
I release a shaky breath. “Lying is a subjective term.”
My entire body erupts in goosebumps as his hand grazes my shoulder and wraps around the back of my neck. “Do explain.”
His chest presses against my back and I tense. “What are you doing?”
“Invading your space, because I tend to get better answers when you want to get away. I promise I’ll let you go—stop touching you—once you answer the question.”
I swallow hard. “I’m giving you answers that aren’t lies… but not entire truths.”
“Atlas seems to catch onto those,” he murmurs, “but I think you’re being deceptive. I think… you’re trying to throw me off.”
Shaking my head, I try to step away, but he holds me firm. “I’m trying to give you what you want, Butcher, so that I can get what you promised.”
His thumb drags along my hairline, tugging lightly at the baby hairs and sending another shiver racing down my spine. “I know. This is selfish for both of us. But what I don’t understand… is why you won’t just be honest. Who cares, right? You’ll be gone. So why not tell me the truth?”
“Ask me what you want to know then.”
“Did you kill those kids?”
My nostrils flare. “Yes.”
“With Vendra’s magic. You took their hearts and sacrificed them… You did that.”
I hesitate—just a fraction—and I can feel his heart.
Generally, Vampires don’t beat hard enough to be felt like this, but somehow it’s there, thudding faintly.
Eager. Hungry. Desperate for the truth. For the confirmation that I am the monster.
The beast in the night parents warn their children about.
The folklore of my people. Stealing hearts to feed to my God for power.
And yet… he wants the truth.
“A technicality… If they had killed me like I begged them to that night, they would still be alive.”
His hand twitches, the grip loosening just enough for me to tear myself free and spin to face him.
“If they had taken my life… every single person would still have a beating heart, and I would have never known the agony of regret, the pain of unjustified punishment, and the taste of someone else’s sin.”
With that, I slip into the tent, curl into the sleeping bag, and silently cry myself to sleep.