Chapter 46
THE RIFT
At the sight of Rafe, Lainey’s expression twists strangely. She cries his name on a choked exhale, like he is her knight in shining armor. And yet, her eyes tell a different story. They are wild with terror. “Please, Rafe. I don’t remember how I got up here.”
“Lainey, Lainey, Lainey.” He tuts as he strolls closer. “I’m afraid we need to have a little chat.”
“Can you help me get down first?”
“You might want to stay. See what I have to say before you make a decision.”
Her body trembles.
Jude stands beside me like a lion about to pounce—frozen, alert, every muscle coiled.
“We just aren’t working, you and I,” Rafe continues. “I think it’s time to take a break.”
“A break?”
“I need space, Lain. This relationship of ours is starting to feel claustrophobic, you know?”
“But I thought—”
“I know, I know.” He heaves a sigh. “You thought I loved you. And I may have alluded to that, but Lainey, the truth is, I don’t. I never have.”
Mascara streaks down her face. Her chest rises and falls like at any moment it might collapse and she better get in some good breaths first. I want to go to her, climb up on that chair, and remove the rope. But it all feels so fraught. Like one wrong move could snap Lainey’s neck.
“I tried. I really did,” Rafe says, his silky voice cutting like the edge of a razor. “But at the end of the day, you’re just … not enough.”
“Not enough?”
He shakes his head in mock sorrow.
Lainey buries her face in her hands and sobs.
The ruby brightens.
It wasn’t my imagination.
It’s like the gemstone is feeding off her emotion.
Rafe stops behind the chair. “I could have plucked any girl from the crowd. Bent her to my will. But this way is more fruitful. So much more emotion to work with once they’ve fallen in love.”
Lainey wails.
The lights flicker.
My mind races.
We need to get her down. We need to get her to safety. But how, with Rafe so close? One good kick, and he could send the chair flying. I see Molly Ludwig in my dream. Her feet dangling.
“Poor Lainey,” Rafe tuts. “You’ve never been quite good enough, have you? Not for your dad. Not for your mom. Not for me. I don’t know, maybe it’s better to just …” He wobbles the chair.
With a shriek, she totters precariously.
Jude takes an aggressive step forward. “Knock it off.”
“Oh yeah? And what will you do if I don’t?” He gives the chair another nudge.
Lainey shrieks again.
She’s terrified.
It’s written all over her face.
Despite what Rafe has suggested, she doesn’t want to be up there with that rope around her neck.
The ruby is practically glowing.
“Jude,” I say like a warning. His eyes meet mine. If he notices the amulet, he doesn’t let on. He’s too fixated on helping Lainey. But in order to do that, we need to get Rafe out of the way.
“Careful, Cousin,” Rafe says. “You look like you’re about to do something heroic.”
Jude steps toward him, his jaw clenched.
Rafe takes a slow step in return. “Playing the hero has never ended well for your bloodline. Ezra. Amos. Gabriel. Elijah. Each one tried so hard to deny themselves happiness, as if the sacrifice might shield the ones they loved. Same story, different guy. Watching it unfold has grown so redundant.”
I inch behind him, closer to Lainey as Rafe begins circling Jude like a wolf. “I watched them all claw their way through grief. Endure decades of loneliness, wearing their misery like a martyr. As if they had any concept of what true misery felt like.”
Lainey chokes on a sob.
The ruby pulses.
And I recall another dream.
John Vandenberg, shouting.
His son, yelling.
His wife, crying.
His daughter, seething.
So much emotion, it was almost like the rift couldn’t help itself. Couldn’t resist. It needed to feed. Rafe is drumming up that same emotion now, only a hundred times stronger.
And suddenly, I understand.
Ezra’s map.
The red X.
The decrepit mausoleum.
Until the flash of lightning.
For a fraction of second it was there—Dante’s tomb, just out of reach. Because it exists in a different dimension, layered over ours. To get to it, Rafe must go through the rift, and he can’t get through the rift unless he opens it first. To do that, he needs emotion.
Raw, unfiltered emotion.
Rafe continues his taunting as I reach the chair.
Very carefully, I step onto it. I join Lainey, who is hysterical and heartbroken and making that ruby glow brighter by the second.
With urgent, fumbling hands, I manage to remove the rope from around her neck and take her gently by her shoulders. “Lainey, please calm down.”
But she only shakes her head and cries harder, her entire body wracked with sobs.
“Please, it’s going to be okay.”
“No it’s not!” she wails.
The chandelier trembles.
Jude and Rafe prowl in a circle, drawing closer.
Settle down, I want to shout. Everyone needs to settle down.
But the words are trapped.
And Rafe is relentless. “You killed your mother the day you were born,” he says.
Jude’s hands curl into fists.
Fury burns in his eyes.
“How long until Selah ends up in a body bag, too?”
Jude lunges.
He tackles Rafe into the piano.
Lainey screams as the keys ring out a discordant tone.
I grab her by the arm and pull her to the ground as Rafe recovers. He rams his shoulder into Jude’s chest. They crash into Lainey’s chair. Jude throws a punch and connects with Rafe’s jaw.
He staggers, a trickle of blood running down the corner of his mouth. He wipes at it with a sinister smile, then he picks up a nearby music stand and swings it at Jude’s head.
Terror grabs me by the throat as Jude blocks it with his forearm and tackles Rafe to the ground. Fists fly. Lainey screams. And I’m shouting, too—for somebody to come, for somebody to help.
The doors burst open.
People rush inside.
Isabel.
Mayor Ridley.
Twig.
Mr. Calloway.
He wrenches Rafe and Jude apart as Isabel shrieks, and the ground begins to shake. The crystals in the chandelier chatter like tiny glass teeth.
Shouts erupt in the ballroom.
An earthquake!
Pandemonium ensues as guests run for cover.
But I can’t move.
I stand by the fireplace, watching the spot where Lainey once stood.
The air starts to shimmer—a thin ribbon of ghostly light that crackles and sparks.
The tremble turns into a violent quake. The chandelier sways.
A candelabra crashes to my feet. Slowly, the ribbon grows, longer and wider, until it splits into a gaping, swirling wound.
The shaking stops.
The world goes still.
Mr. Calloway and Mayor Ridley and Isabel and Twig look around wildly, as though waiting for something to come, not realizing something already has.
The rift is open.
Across the room, Rafe yanks the ruby from Lainey’s neck. She twists free from his grip and runs past the undulating hole like she doesn’t see it at all.
Rafe’s eyes lock with mine, then Jude’s.
He grins a bloody grin and steps inside.