Chapter 23

ORINA

H emlock made up a bed for me in Ezekiel’s cell room. He placed it by the exit as far from the bars as possible.

“Are you sure about this?” Ordell asked me.

“I’m positive.” Godor had delivered me here at three this morning, my head filled with the horrific images of what had happened to Ezekiel.

I’d told them the things I’d seen.

Explained the connection Ezekiel had established with me.

He’d reached out to my mind with the part of him that knew me. It had to be his attempt to ground himself.

He was using me to remain present, to hold on to the now, to sanity, and I wanted to be here, close by for every episode where he was awake. Maybe I could coax him to coherence. Pull him out of the living nightmare he was trapped in.

Or maybe I was expecting too much.

Either way, I had to try.

He slept now, an alabaster figure in repose. It was my job to watch over him.

“You still need to be seen in New Town,” Hemlock said. “I’ll drive you there late morning.”

I didn’t want to leave this spot. I wanted to sleep so I could be with Ezekiel. Maybe I could communicate with him somehow. Pull him out of the loop he was in.

“Orina?” Ordell touched my shoulder.

“Yes, yes, I know.” I climbed into bed and pulled up the sheets. “You can go.”

“It doesn’t work that way,” Hemlock said. “If you’re in here, then one of us will be in here with you.”

“I’ll stay,” Ordell said.

Hemlock snorted. “Not likely, brother. You’re just as much a danger to her as he is.”

Ordell’s mouth flattened, but he didn’t argue. “I’ll check in on you in a few hours.” He left, and Hemlock dropped to the floor at the foot of my cot.

“Get some sleep,” he said softly.

I closed my eyes and tried to settle, but one thought kept resurfacing in my mind. I needed to talk about it. “Hemlock…”

“Yes?”

“I saw Arabella…but I didn’t feel any connection to her. If I am her…was her, then surely something should have sparked, right?”

“I don’t know how much you would feel or remember if you were her reborn,” Hemlock said. “When the white wings retrieved Arabella’s soul from limbo, they were meant to strip her of her memories. They turned her into a scale to measure light and dark, where fate would tip the balance. She’d loved Ezekiel once, but could she love him again without his humanity? If yes, then he could be restored. Made whole again. If not…well, you know what the outcome of that is.”

“So falling in love with him is the only way to return his humanity?”

“Yes. Arabella’s soul must love him once more.”

“And you think I’m her?”

“I do.”

But I wasn’t sure. “What if I do it…What if I allow myself to love him, really love him, but then the real Arabella shows up?”

“I don’t know,” he said softly. “I wish I had the answers.”

He sounded as tired as I felt. “There’s enough room on the cot for us both if we squish up.”

“And there you go, trying to seduce me,” he drawled.

I cracked a smile. “I can’t seem to help myself.”

“The floor’s hard, and I’m not a martyr, so…” He pulled himself up with a groan and climbed onto the cot behind me.

I adjusted the covers, shuffling forward a bit then back again as he slung an arm around my waist.

His breath teased the top of my head. “Sleep now, kitten.”

He hadn’t called me that in ages. I’d missed it.

I stifled a yawn and closed my eyes.

When I opened them next, the candle had burned down almost to the wick. Shadows crawled across the chamber, and the cell beyond was in complete darkness.

The sensation that I was being watched tightened my scalp. I peered into the depth of the cell.

The bed was empty.

Where was Ezekiel?

There, in the corner with his back pressed to the wall.

“Ezekiel?”

“Hush,” he whispered. “We don’t want to wake them.”

I slipped from beneath Hemlock’s arm and off the bed, then crawled toward the cell, stopping out of arm’s reach of the bars. “Ezekiel, it’s me Orina. Come closer.”

“Don’t.” His voice trembled. “If they hear you and wake…I can’t stop them. I can’t save you.”

He thought I was Arabella. Maybe if I pretended to be… “It’s not your fault. I’m all right.”

“No. No you’re not. This is my fault. You’re here because of me, and I can’t protect you.” He began to sob, a soft heart-wrenching sound that made my stomach hurt because this was Ezekiel, the big bad vampire king who felt nothing and now…Now he was curled up in a ball, sobbing his heart out.

I wanted to hold him, to comfort him. I shuffled closer. “Ezekiel. Please, don’t cry, don’t?—”

He lunged for the bars, eyes bright gold in the gloom, and I was whipped out of harm’s way before he could grab me.

“Bitch!” He gripped the bars and snarled. “I’ll kill you. I’ll fucking kill you.” He shook his head. “No. No, no, no. Take me! Leave her alone! You take me!” His eyes rolled back in his head, and he slumped to the ground, unconscious once more.

I clung to Hemlock, panic pulsing through my veins.

He exhaled heavily. “And this is why you won’t be left alone with him.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know, Orina. I know.” He led me back to the bed. “Get some sleep. I’ll watch over him.”

But sleep was a long time coming.

The next two days passed quickly. I helped chase a couple of leads on the van based off the partial plate we’d given Kaster before heading back to the chapter house to wait for Godor to come get me and take me to Branwood.

The bat boy was subdued each time, not willing to be drawn into conversation. I figured that his master’s predicament was causing him distress and didn’t press, which gave me time to observe, and maybe it was my imagination, but Godor looked different. His stature, his wingspan, his hands…I was sure he’d only had three fingers and a thumb, but now there were four…I had to be mistaken. The stress of, well, everything was enough to muddle anyone’s mind.

Then there was Kaster to worry about.

I hated not being able to tell him the truth. Making excuses not to see him felt wrong, but Ezekiel had to come first. I dropped him several texts, though, promising to see him soon.

At Branwood, each night was an awful glimpse into Ezekiel’s ordeal, into the vault of his mind that should have remained locked. I walked the halls of the castle between his episodes, finding myself outside the door to his quarters a couple of times hoping to speak to Leo the door knocker to lighten my mood, but he was silent and non-responsive each time.

So back to the safe room I’d go. Into sleep and into Ezekiel’s nightmare.

The torture by flame had me thrashing and choking on the smoke and stench of Ezekiel’s burning flesh as I experienced his agony that died only once his nerves had been burned away, leaving him sizzling as he cooked. She’d heal him and then begin anew.

Fresh fire.

Fresh pain.

When I woke, Hemlock held me while I wept until the residue of the nightmare subsided.

The next night, I joined Ezekiel as he slowly froze in the grip of gnawing pain before his body went numb. I woke sobbing for relief, pressed up against Hemlock, desperate for his warmth and reprieve from the phantom chill.

But on the third night, something changed. I was no longer in Ezekiel’s body but outside. An invisible watcher as Loviator had him slowly flayed. Slivers of skin were peeled away until he was bloody and raw. His agonized screams bounced around my head, tearing at my soul and raking my insides as I attacked the bitch with my phantom arms, desperate to save him yet knowing there was no salvation here.

This was an echo.

A memory of atrocities already done, already experienced.

I watched through a veil of tears as she finished her work then healed him only to begin anew.

I hated her.

With every fiber of my being, I hated that bitch, and if I could pull her out of her prison and kill her myself, then I would.

I stayed, standing by his side, desperate to hold his hand as he endured.

“I’m here. You’re not alone. I’m here,” I whispered over and over. “Ezekiel. This is done. This is the past. You’re free. Come back to me. Please come back to me.”

Loviator hummed and began work on his torso.

The world dimmed.

I was about to wake up. “No!” I reached for him, wanting to hold on to him. Not wanting to leave, and in the moment before consciousness claimed me, I was certain he looked right at me.

Hemlock smoothed back my hair and held a glass of water to my lips. “You’re all right. You’re back.”

I gulped greedily.

“Easy. What did you see?”

I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. “It was different this time. I wasn’t in his body. I was a watcher. I didn’t feel the pain. I think…I think he pushed me out of his body. I think he’s protecting me. He looked at me, Hemlock. I swear a moment before I woke up, he looked right at me.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. He’s there. He’s fighting. I can feel him.”

The door to the room opened, and Ordell entered. “I found her.”

“Who?” Hemlock asked.

“Ingrid. I know where she is.” He pressed his lips together, and I knew that whatever he was going to say wouldn’t be good. “She’s in the east wing.”