Chapter Twenty-Three

Zo is pacing the length of our room when I first enter. Upon throwing the door open wider, I find all the girls have gathered together, three of them currently huddled on my bed.

"Oh, thank gods," B says. "Zo was making me dizzy with her relentless pacing."

Zo looks up and scowls before her eyes settle on me and her expression softens. "You're okay."

"I am." Seeing as my bed is occupied, I throw myself down on hers.

"What happened?" Astrid asks as I kick off my shoes and rub my sore feet. She looks positively comical with her tall frame wedged between B and Scar's shorter ones .

There's really no easy way to tell them, so I just come out with it. "I ate him."

Scarlett blinks in surprise, shaking her head as if to rattle away her confusion. "I'm sorry. What?"

I sigh, then flop back on Zo's bed, my eyes fluttering closed. "I. Ate. Him." Funny how now it's a fleeting thought, as mundane as saying something like, "I kissed him." Perhaps I'm more of a monster than I'd like to admit, though the idea doesn't terrify me as much as it used to.

"Oh my gods," Zo says through a fit of giggles.

"That's fucking amazing. " Astrid draws out the last word.

"I would have loved to see that," B chimes in, and I can hear the pride in her voice.

My own lazy smile pulls at my mouth, and I fold my hands on top of my abdomen. Relief, potent and warm and so utterly welcome, washes through me. It should come as no surprise that my girls have my back, that they wouldn't be horrified or cast judgment or condemn me in all the manners I'd already inflicted upon myself.

Forcing my eyes open, I sit up. "And what about you?" My eyes find Zo before darting among the three girls opposite me. "What happened to the other guy? "

"Oh, nothing as exciting," Scarlett answers.

Astrid's brows shoot to her forehead. "What are you talking about? He was face-down in a toilet bowl by the time we were done with him."

I simply raise a brow in question.

Zo speaks in her abundantly animated way when she's excited about something. "Ok, so we convinced him to come back to VIP, thinking Lyncus would help us, and gods were we right." She clasps her hands. "All Lyncus did was offer him one cherry. One!" She bounces on her heels. My eyes widen at her exuberance, intrigue grasping me at where this story is headed. "He ate it, of course. And then he got violently ill. Vomited all over the floor of the VIP."

"Ew," I offer, wrinkling my nose in disgust.

Oh, who am I kidding? I ate an entire man's torso, for fuck's sake. But vomit is, well, vomit.

B jumps up to join Zo, iterating the next sequence of events. Zo shoots her a glare, but it's quickly smothered, and a small smile twists her lips.

"That's not all," B says. "Every time Lyncus ate a cherry, the guy vomited. Cherries . Mouthfuls of them."

My jaw drops in dramatic fashion, because, damn.

"And Lyncus ate the whole bowl," Scarlett finishes with a sly grin.

I can't help but smile back. Of course, he did.

My smile quickly falls as I spot Scarlett eyeing me curiously, and I remember that I still need to tell her the truth about Nick and I.

I blow out a breath. "Scar, there's something I need to tell you."

It's well past four in the morning once I finish telling Scar everything - from Nick's prophecy (which she didn't know about), to me bringing about his death, to the Bargain I made with the Moirai and every little detail in between.

Scar blinks once. Twice. Her hazel eyes are pensive, her lips pursed, and dark brows drawn together.

"Scar, say something. Please."

She's been frighteningly quiet throughout my tirade, her countenance completely passive. B, who was also hearing all this for the first time, had varying expressions of shock and sadness. Though she didn't speak either, B at least let out a few gasps and sounds that let me know she was still a living, breathing person. Scarlett appears downright robotic.

"You love him," she says softly.

I open my mouth, then close it before speaking. "Out of everything I just told you, you're focusing on that ?"

She shrugs. "All Nick ever wanted was someone to love him. And if you are the person responsible for bringing the prophecy forward, that means you love him." Her gaze softens but still maintains its intensity. "Prophecy notwithstanding, I just don't believe that two people who love each other as much as you both do are destined to destroy one another."

I resist the urge to drag my hand down my face. While I appreciate Scar's optimism and the fact that she appears to be extremely cavalier about me possibly murdering her brother, being a hopeless romantic is not going to solve this problem.

But there's that hopeful, pleading look in her eyes, the same one she gave me when she asked if I would give Nick a chance. Even though that feels like a lifetime ago, I remember all too well my hesitation, yet I acquiesced. Just like I'm going to do now.

"You're right, Scar," I say, with another smile that doesn't quite match my tumultuous emotions. "I love him. I never loved anyone before him and won't love anyone after him."

There is no one else. Not for you. Not for him. In this life or the next.

The memory of those words are like blades to my heart. Scar's eyes shine with tears at my own words, and hope blossoms at the thought that maybe, just maybe, Scar is right.

Love is equal parts salvation and destruction. I'd destroy the entire world if it meant saving Nick, and if that's what I need to do to keep him alive, then-

"Did Lyncus tell you anything helpful?" Zo interrupts my rumination.

I shake my head. "Just that he was shocked someone is cloaking my Thread, and the only way to unveil it is by finding the person who put it there in the first place. Oh, and that prophecies don't always unfold how you think they will, which wasn't helpful either."

Zo cocks her head. "Not necessarily. You and Nick have been at each other's throats. Your attempts to keep away from one another seem to be doing more harm than good. Maybe it's time you try to tackle this together."

"I think so, too," Scar softly chimes.

I withhold a sigh. I don't want to tell them that I've already had this conversation with Nick, and it was futile. The silver lining is we spent a few months being enemies, and at the very least, that no longer seems to be the case.

A loud yawn disrupts the silence, and Astrid stands up, stretching her long limbs toward the ceiling.

"Alright. All this talk of love is making me horny. Scar, let's go to bed. I'm dying to rip that dress off you."

A noise that sounds like something between a cough and laugh tumbles from B's throat. Zo's mouth drops open, and I simply lift a brow. Astrid displaying any emotion other than stone-cold apathy is a rarity, and even though she always softens where Scar is concerned, it's still shocking to hear her brazenly voice her desire for her girlfriend.

A beautiful flush paints Scarlett's cheeks as she tucks a strand of mahogany hair behind her ear. She stands and slips her palm into Astrid's. "Goodnight," she tells us shyly. Astrid, meanwhile, doesn't bother with any kind of farewell.

B awkwardly rises from my bed. "Um. Well, I guess I better go, too." Her gaze lingers on Zo, who darts her attention to me before casting her eyes down. B draws her bottom lip between her teeth, hesitant. I recall the violent expression of envy on her face when Zo was toying with the buttons of the lackey's shirt, and an idea forms in my brain.

B's mouth parts, as though she is about to say something, then thinks better of it and turns to leave.

"B," I call, and she whirls at hearing her name, "you have a single, right?"

She nods, casting me a curious glance.

"Zo," I start and my roommate's head snaps up. "Why don't you spend the night in B's room? I could use some space after everything that happened. "

"You… you want to be alone?" Zo asks incredulously.

"Yeah. I need time to process." I give her a pointed look.

"Oh. Oh. Ok." Zo nods, seemingly dazed. "I'll, um, see you in the morning, then."

I wave. "See you."

B shoots me a grateful smile, and her hand falls to the small of Zo's back to guide her out. Before she leaves, B glances at me over her shoulder and mouths thank you.

Once the door shuts behind them, I change into pajamas and climb into my bed. Though I'm elated my friends are all happy within their own relationships, a small green tendril of jealousy unfurls and buries itself within my ribcage. I want to be able to confide in Nick the way Astrid and Scar confide in one another. I want to be able to spend nights in his room, just to simply sleep safely in arms, the way Zo and B are about to. Yet every plan I have to extract myself from this Bargain and save his life so that the two of us can rid ourselves of this star-crossed curse has so far gone up in flames.

I was so sure Lyncus had the answer. If not him, then who?

I jolt up in bed, realization sparking like wildfire and bringing with it burning, icy flames of fear.

The book.

I have no choice. I have to get that book from the library.

And I have to risk facing the Harbinger.

Morning dawns gloomy and frigid, the sky a dark, ominous gray peppered with angry clouds that threaten to pellet the ground with rain.

I wear nothing except a black, long-sleeved shirt and jeans. I need to be swift and can't have the hindrance of a heavy coat or bulky sweater slowing me down in trying to retrieve this book and escape the clutches of the Harbinger.

My toes skirt the threshold of the entrance, and I suck in a deep breath before I grit my teeth and push the heavy oak doors open.

Silence greets me, which I expected. Maggie, the head Librarian, usually opens the doors and then leaves to get her first coffee of the day, likely assuming no one would venture to the Library at eight on Sunday morning.

I just never slept .

My light footsteps sound like warning bells in my ears, each step bringing me closer to the stairs, to the level below, to the terrifying specter that maybe awaits my arrival.

I clear the first platform and peer below. The lower level is dark despite the glowing lights, the lack of windows allowing darkness to permeate. My fingers tremble as I place them on the banister and continue my descent.

This is for Nick.

This is for you and him.

This is for yourself.

My sneaker-clad feet finally land on the ground where the air immediately feels strange, thick with an oppressive tension.

Wrong.

I force my feet to move, hastily making my way to the back wall, my heart thumping loudly, drowning out the sounds of my sneakers scuffing against the floor as I break into a run. I skid to stop as I come to the last bookshelf. Sure enough, when I glance to my left, the book lies in the middle of the darkened alley, waiting.

Scooping it in my hands, it's only when my breath comes out in wisps of smoke that I realize the temperature in the room has plummeted, and all the lights have winked out.

A gurgling, maniacal cackle flits across my ears and crawls down my spine.

No. Gods, please. No.

I turn slowly, pleading with whatever higher power exists that I won't see what I know I'm about to.

My eyes fall first to Kassi's bloody and torn throat before meeting her gaze.

The Harbinger, not Kassi, I correct myself. Cloudy blue eyes fractured by jagged, red lines. Mouth twisted in a vicious snarl. Crude, pointed fangs dripping with blood. The Harbinger starts toward me, its movements jerky and uncanny. I scream as I backpedal before turning and taking off in the opposite direction as fast as my legs will take me.

I don't get far. The Harbinger is suddenly in front of me, a crazed, violent gleam in its eyes. It reaches for me, snagging my hair in its serrated claws and draws me in so its face is right up against mine.

Bile rises in my throat at the putrid stench that fills my nostrils.

"He's not what he says he is." The same warning is hissed in those broken, gurgled syllables.

The Harbinger tosses me back, and I stumble, clutching the book tight to my chest. It watches me with its head tilted at an unnatural angle, mangled strands of hair hanging limp at its side. The demon snaps up abruptly, gaze lasering directly on the bare space at my throat.

It grins.

Then, it attacks.