Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 89023 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89023 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
“It’s over, Syrsee. It doesn’t matter anymore. It’s… just… over.”
And then, before I can even ask him what the fuck that means, I’m back where I was—trapped in the maze of mirrors—and no amount of shouting his name or pressing myself into the mist changes this.
I replay his words in my head, panicking.
I missed it?
“No!” I scream. “It’s not over! It can’t be over! I didn’t win yet! I didn’t do anything yet!”
“It’s not!”
I whirl around and find Echo staring back at me from the mist. And then I look around and realize I’m not trapped in the maze.
I’m in a cave.
“Where am I?”
Lucia steps into view, smiling at me. “Welcome to Josep’s lair, little witch. It’s not over yet. Nothing is over yet. The battle is just beginning. But his scions are awake now and they will be here soon, so let’s get to work. Where did you leave your mirror?”
For a moment I think she’s talking about the maze of mirrors I just came from, so this question doesn’t really make sense. “What?”
“The mirror Tristin brought you? The Coyrah mirror?”
“Oh.” I take a breath, feeling very out of sorts. “I… think it’s back at Ryet’s cabin in West Virginia? I don’t know, actually. I don’t even know if that place is real.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Lucia says. “Doesn’t need to be real. Because you’re gonna take us there in a dreamwalk.”
19 - Ryet
It’s blood lust
“Syrsee?” I shake her a little. “Are you hungry?” I cringe at this question. “For food, I mean.” When she doesn’t open her eyes, I shake her again. “Syrsee? Wake up.”
No response. Not even an eye twitch.
But it’s OK. She was tired. She’s been through a lot—I ate her—but she got my blood and she’s fine.
She is. I’m sure she is. But I just want to be sure. So I prod her again. “Syrsee. Syrsee, you need to wake up. Just for a moment. Just open your eyes for me and then you can go right back to sleep.” I shake her a little harder this time. “Syrsee.” Her head lolls to the side and her long, dark hair falls over her face.
The panic comes, but I trap it inside me. I’m screaming in my own head. What did he do? What did he feed me that I fed her? What did he do?
But it wasn’t him. It was me. I ate her.
Calm, Ryet. Stay calm. She woke up, she talked to you. And then Paul—
“Oh, fuck.” He gave me a vial of blood. Blood I drank and then fed to her. Without even getting an explanation.
In my defense, Paul did walk out and promise to talk later.
And anyway, Paul doesn’t want to kill Syrsee. Paul made her for me. She’s mine. Whatever he gave me to feed her, it’s not going to kill her.
And now my mind is spinning with all the things in this world that are worse than dying.
Being a vampire is at the top of my list at the moment.
Being a blood slave to a vampire is at the top of Syrsee’s, I’m sure.
I look down at sleeping Syrsee and an ache fills my chest. An overwhelming ache that, mine or not, I’ve already lost her. That she will never love me. That our love never had a chance to begin with. That I will never love or be loved again.
Which isn’t even true because I have Paul.
He’s just… not the one I want. I don’t want to spend eternity with him. I want Syrsee.
“Syrsee?” I say her name quietly, not expecting an answer.
Whatever I fed her, it’s working now and I’ll just have to wait until the process is over.
Paul won’t kill her. Whatever was in that vial, it won’t hurt her.
She needs this sleep. That’s all. She needs to rest so her body can catch up. Hell, so her mind can catch up. So that means I have two options—stay here, waiting for her to wake up, or go looking for Paul and start asking questions.
Where did he say he was going?
He didn’t.
I’ve got things to do, he said. We’re on a schedule.
Which implies, at least through my reasoning, that he’s here on the compound somewhere. If not, one of those scions downstairs will know where he is.
I slide Syrsee’s body off of me and put her head on the pillow. Then I kiss her cheek. “I’ll be back, OK? Don’t go anywhere. Because I’m coming back and you’re gonna be just fine.”
It comes out with much more conviction than I’m feeling right now, but she doesn’t stir.
Reluctantly, I turn away and leave the apartment, muttering, “I’ll be right back,” as I travel the hallway.
The enclosed hallway becomes open on the right side as I approach the main lobby and this is where the wall turns into a railing that leads to the stairs. I pause here, looking down at the stained floor below.