Chapter 18

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CAT

M y blood pounded louder, drowning out everything except the darkness in my mind. I turned and left Justin's room without another word, storming down the corridor past even Alastor and Honey without speaking, barely seeing them. My vision shrank to a pinpoint, anger clouding every sense until I saw in shades of black and red.

I ran out of Lawrence Hall, shaking off Honey when she tried to stop me. I couldn't stop. I had so much rage inside, and I wouldn't let it explode in my best friend's face. I had just enough clarity to remind myself she was the only best friend I had left.

"I'll be fine," I said. I didn't know if I whispered or shouted the words. "I'll be fine."

Alastor said something but I heard his voice through the dark water of my rage. Honey fell back, but I forged on, walking without direction, driven by the violence in my blood, the terror held at bay by pure, undiluted wrath.

I only realised where I'd been driven when a mausoleum interrupted my path, hulking and gothic. Dahlias glared at me from around the door. CAISHEN MALEVOLLUS was etched above the door. My blood rushed louder, faster in my ears.

Caishen. Cai.

I was too far gone to realise grave digging wasn't exactly the best idea. I couldn't think, could barely breathe. I couldn't hear my own thoughts over the pounding of blood in my ears.

The clouds opened above, dropping a cold river of rain on me, but I didn't care. It didn't matter that I hadn't worn a coat, that I was freezing in a T-shirt and jeans. There was a tomb with Miz's name on it and I needed to know if he was inside.

Break it, trash it, make him pay for every minute of suffering he's given you, the darkness encouraged. Make him regret ignoring you for weeks when you needed him. Show him exactly how he hurt you by killing your best friend and then shutting you out when you needed him most.

Yes, I agreed, my breathing rapid, goosebumps on my arms. I cast around for something to open the door, knowing the solid wood wouldn't be easy to break into. There must have been dozens of break-in attempts over the years, especially with curses and magic clashing with alcohol and drugs. And yet every single mausoleum stood unbroken, undamaged. Unopened.

That wasn't about to stop me. I needed answers, needed something—anything.

Virgil was Nightmare's captive, was malnourished and hopeless and terrified, and I had no way to find him. I had nothing except to obey her every whim and command, and that made me want to throw back my head and scream.

Instead of letting out the building scream, I stalked around the side of the Milton Hall to the tiny stone hut where the groundskeeper kept his tools. A growl of frustration rattled my throat when the door only budged an inch before a padlock thwarted me.

"Fucker," I snarled at the little silver lock. My breathing came faster, shallower. I was getting inside that fucking tomb, no matter how many signs the universe threw my way to abort mission.

It took me three furious minutes to find a rock big enough to smash the lock. It was satisfying to bring the stone down on the padlock over and over until the shitty piece of metal broke apart. It felt good. I needed more, needed to destroy the rest of the shed, needed to scream and vent my rage, but that wasn't why I was here. I grabbed a crowbar, dropped the rock in the grass, and turned back towards the graveyard, a smile tugging at my cheeks.

For a moment as I let my anger take over, the grief and terror that ruled my body finally disappeared. The crowbar felt good in my hand, too, the weight of it reassuring. No one would stalk me, corner me, attack me, or compel me to kill. Not with a weapon in my hand.

A shudder went down my spine. I knew this wasn't me, knew distantly that something was wrong, but the absence of grief was too appealing to give up. So I angled the crowbar's edge around the door of Caishen's tomb and threw all my weight on it. A cry of effort was strangled between my gritted teeth.

Muscles pulled in my arms and a twinge went through my back 1 but I heaved on the crowbar again and again, a thrill going through my heartbeat when the door began to loosen from the frame.

I didn't bother to glance around and see if anyone witnessed me breaking into a tomb. I didn't care about anything except the rage and the darkness right now, so I kept pulling on the crowbar until the door groaned and bent and finally scraped open. My arms were limp when I dropped the crowbar. I had to wedge myself into the gap I'd opened and use my hip to push the door wide enough for me to get inside but then I was in.

Inside Misery's tomb.

The darkness stuttered for a moment at the thought of Miz dying, but it surged back to life with a roar.

Anyone who even thinks about touching him will die screaming.

"Yes," I agreed, stepping further into the cold, frozen space. The air here was different, old and holy like a church lost to time. I needed to know if he was inside, needed to know if I'd been walking past Miz's corpse every day.

My blood pounded louder in my ears as I crossed the plain stone floor—no elaborate tiles, no colour, no details here unlike what I'd glimpsed in the other mausoleums—to the blocky rectangle of Caishen's tomb. It had no embellishments, no markers other than a name chiselled into the base. I swallowed, staring at that name, remembering the sweet venom in Nightmare's voice when she told Cai to kill Byron.

She'll know true, unyielding pain, the darkness assured me. By the time we're finished with her, she'll wish she'd never been summoned.

I wrapped that promise around myself like a comfort blanket. Nightmare would pay for everything she did.

But would she pay before or after she killed my brother, too? Before she made Miz kill him as she threatened on the moors the night of the gala.

I swallowed, trying to hold onto the darkness as I approached the tomb, reaching for the lid, prepared to wreck my weak arms to push it off. But it was already cracked open, the empty tomb visible beneath. I let out a sharp breath.

"There was never a body here," a soft voice said behind me, startling me.

I spun, wishing I still held the crowbar. But it wasn't one of Nightmare's cult who'd stalked me into the tomb.

It was Miz.