value. Its meaning was all-too clear. Bile rose in my throat. What had I guarded so fiercely all these years? What had I held fast to, even when I wasn’t sure why? What still meant something to me when so much else had lost meaning? I wanted my first time to be with someone real. I knew, then, this thing had already helped itself to my memories. Probably as it had been walking around me in circles. I hadn’t even felt it. In those few seconds, it had witnessed every private conversation and intimate moment. It had become part of everything beautiful, painful, hopeful, surprising, and mine. “No,” I said, my throat threatening to close before I could get the word out. The idea of giving it yet another part of me was unbearable. “There’s another way. Tell me, or I’ll walk away.” The demon’s eyes glittered with ancient cunning. I don’t think you will. “Fuck you.” I’m trying, it countered. Away, away, had to get away. Spinning, I pointed the key fob at my truck. The headlights flashed. A pointless gesture, since I hadn’t locked the doors, but I was on autopilot now. I reached for the door handle. The demon’s voice stopped me. Shall I tell you what my brothers and sisters are doing to your beloved right now? it called. I bowed my head, struggling to breathe. Though I’d never had a panic attack before, I knew I was on the verge of one. No, I didn’t want to hear what torments Collith was enduring in another dimension. But I could imagine—I’d heard the stories. From a whispered conversation between my parents, when they thought I’d gone to bed. From a drunken warlock sitting in a booth at Bea’s, who bemoaned bringing his wife back from the dead. They’d all spoken of darkness, screams, and pain. And Collith—my sweet, noble, serious Collith—was lost somewhere in that never-ending nightmare. Because of me. Slowly, my fingers uncurled from the door handle. I looked down at my shoes, the whiteness of them marred by soot and blood. I frowned, trying to remember the moment I’d put these shoes on, but I couldn’t. Strange. Have you made your choice then? the demon asked, still standing where I’d left it. The devil’s hour waits for no one.
He took me against a tree. The entire time, I kept my head turned, my eyes closed. The demon basked in my revulsion. It grunted just as Ian would have, thrusting even harder. I buried my nails into the bark. Pain laced through me. Was it worth the wait? the demon taunted. Is this what you hoped for? A memory of Laurie’s voice whispered through my mind. Don’t you know what strengthens a Nightmare’s power? Unleashed fury. The things bad dreams are made of. In that moment, I knew I could easily kill it. My power could obliterate this demon from existence, permanently ending its reign of terror. It would never be able to harm anyone again. That’s what I thought about doing. That’s what I should’ve done. But I wanted Collith back more. As I walked toward it, the demon smiled. The light in its eyes was a blend of triumph and excitement. I stopped a few feet away, hoping it couldn't hear the uneven rhythm of my heartbeat. I didn’t know what came next. I didn’t want to know. The demon took charge, then, and I didn’t fight it. Not once. Not as it took hold of my arms and shoved me back against a tree. Not as it pressed a hard, wet, invasive kiss to my cold mouth. Not as it squeezed my breasts so painfully that I felt its fingernails through my shirt. Not as it shoved its knee between my legs. Not even as it unbutton my jeans and yanked them down. I thought about pretending I was with someone—anyone—else. But I knew it would forever alter my relationship with whoever I chose. I’d never be able to look at them again. So I closed my eyes and pictured the woods. My woods, where I’d spent… The demon rammed its hard length inside me. I buried my fingers in the tree bark behind me and bit back a scream. So young and tight, it breathed. It moved its hips back and forth, forcing itself in and out of my body. I was nowhere near wet, though, and every movement felt like the demon was using a knife. …all those moonlit nights, wandering over moss and tree roots. Listening to the symphony of frogs and crickets. Feeling power flow through my veins… The demon grunted and cussed. Called me obscene names. It palms slammed into the tree on either side of my head, bracing itself, plunging harder and harder.
…and a rare sense of restfulness. Days, weeks, months passed. I stayed in those night-draped woods, walking farther than I ever had before. Eventually the demon came with a throaty moan. I was somewhere far, far away, and the sound was faint in my ears. I felt the demon wiped its cock off on the hem of my shirt. Now, wasn’t that the special memory you wanted? it crooned, chucking me under the chin. Thank you for providing me with some entertainment this evening. It was shaping up to be a bore otherwise. It didn’t wait for me to respond. In the next moment, whistling cheerfully, it slipped back into the woods. I knew this was the part where I tossed an insult after it. This was the part where I stuck up my middle finger and stomped to the truck. But it felt like I’d become as insubstantial as a piece of paper, and the last few minutes had ripped me in half. Second by second. Moment to moment. Now I was barely capable of clinging to the tree and not letting the wind sweep me away. By the way, the demon’s voice added, its voice sliding along my mind like a tongue. I wonder what your father would say, if he could see you now. Aren’t you curious? It was a parting gift, apparently, because the demon was long gone when I finally unlatched my fingers from the tree bark. I looked around, absurdly wary of moving. Bare branches stretched across the sky. Shadows had returned to being unmoving, insentient things. As the seconds passed, I considered laying down on the ground, letting sleep take me. No, that wasn’t right. Couldn’t do that. I had to go back. Collith could already be awake. This thought is what sent a jolt of memory back into my legs, and I remembered how to walk again. I calmly pushed off the tree, fixed my clothes, and returned to the truck. This time, the engine offered no complaints as it awakened, like the old beast knew I had no endurance left. I blasted the heat and cranked up the radio, then left the crossroads behind in a swirl of mist and sound. I didn’t let myself glance at the rear view mirror; that place would be forever imprinted on me, anyway. Halfway home I stopped, opened the door, and vomited onto the road. The sour taste coated on my tongue and teeth. I wiped my chin and kept driving. No one had noticed my absence—as I drove up the driveway, and the house came into view, the windows were still dark. The night was thick
with dreams rather than panic. Maybe some part of me had wanted someone to realize I was gone. To come after me. Silly, really. They couldn’t have changed my mind. Moving gingerly, I dropped down from the driver seat, locked the truck, and trudged back inside. Collith was right where I’d left him. Eyes closed, white skin, dried blood. All the same as it had been before I’d gone to the crossroads. I didn’t let myself consider what I’d do if he didn’t wake, if it had all been for nothing. Shower, I thought. Over and over again. You need to shower. First, though, I would need a change of clothes. I strode past the table, climbed the stairs, and padded down the carpeted hallway. There were doors on either side, behind which Damon, Cyrus, and Emma slept. My room was the last one on the left. Cyrus took as much care with his home as he did Bea’s kitchen; the hinges didn’t so much as whimper as I entered. I approached the dresser on feet that didn’t feel like mine—I hadn’t commanded them to move, to walk forward, but it happened. With more distant thoughts like these, I rummaged through the drawers. Ever the efficient host, Cyrus had apparently purchased pajamas for whatever guests stayed with him; there was a pair of cotton, plaid pants, complete with a matching, long-sleeved top. I took these out, placed them on the bed, and started peeling off what I was wearing. When I saw that my underwear was covered in blood, I felt nothing. Moving methodically, I took them off, too. Everything I’d owned had gone up in flames, so there wasn’t another pair to replace them. Next I put the pajamas on, noting at the same time that Cyrus had also placed a brandnew toothbrush—still in its plastic casing—on top of the bedspread. I brought it to the bathroom and brushed my mouth over and over again, until the vomit taste was completely gone. Then, with my smarting tongue and aching heart, I slipped back downstairs, returned to my chair next to Collith, and prepared to wait.
I C H A P T E R T H I R T Y t was a morning of frost and wind. Though there was no sunlight, it still seemed wrong that morning should arrive at all. Not when so much had come to an end. I was still in the wooden chair, my hands resting limply in my lap. I didn’t move, not even to get water or use the bathroom, because moving meant remembering. Every shift or action caused a twinge of pain between my legs. And I was being very, very careful not to think about the origins of that ache. I was an empty seashell. I was a dry canyon. I was a white room. Cyrus came into the kitchen just as a weak ray of light touched Collith’s face. I hadn’t taken my eyes off him from the moment I’d sat down. Any moment now. He’s going to wake up any moment. “Would you like some eggs and coffee?” I heard Cyrus ask. In the hours that I’d been sitting there, it felt like I’d forgotten how to act human. It took several moments to remember how to form words. “Yes to coffee, no to eggs. Thank you,” I rasped. Even the thought of coffee made my stomach roil, but I needed something to keep me conscious. Needed to act as normal as possible for the sake of everyone around me. I could feel all of us breaking, no, we were standing on the edge of a sharp drop. Someone had to step back. Pull everyone to safety. There was a clicking sound as Cyrus turned a burner on. Seconds later, another presence entered the room. “I’m going to pick up some things from town,” Damon muttered. Any other day, I would have considered it a
victory that he bothered to tell me his plans. “Emma needs more tissues and I’ve got to buy clothes. Do either of you… what’s going on?” He must’ve seen something in my face. “Do you really care?” I asked tonelessly. The response was more automatic than anything. I still didn’t look away from Collith. Please come back. Don’t let it all be for nothing, I thought, sending my words down the space where our bond once existed. Nothing happened. Collith remained white and still. I felt something inside me wither as I accepted two terrible truths—the first was that the demon wearing Ian’s face had lied to me. The second was that Collith was truly dead. There was no coming back from what I’d done. What I’d lost. Soon I would have to get up from this chair, and I had no idea how to be alive anymore. It felt unimaginable, working at Bea’s, being a sister, training with Adam, attending the Tithes. Fortuna Sworn no longer existed. “Fortuna? Did something else happen?” Damon pressed. His voice was closer this time. Wow, he must really be worried, I thought bleakly. The old Fortuna would’ve cared. She would’ve marveled at the fact that he was starting to forgive her. Just as I started to respond, Collith’s eyes opened. END OF BOOK TWO
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