God of Pain (Legacy of Gods #2)(95)

“Anoushka…stop fighting me and get in the car.”

It’s then I realize I’ve been wiggling, struggling, and jerking, preventing my brother from pushing me into the passenger seat.

I come to a halt, pull my hands from my temples, and drown in the red.

All red.

Blood red.

His red.

“Anoushka…”

I stare at my brother and the cut on his shoulder through my blurred vision. “Tell me this is a nightmare. Tell me you’re not real, Jer. This…this is just in my head. I didn’t… I didn’t…shoot him.”

“You did, and we need to get the fuck out of here while they’re distracted.”

I shake my head continuously, with enough force that I’m surprised it doesn’t fall off. “I-I’m…going to go back in there and make sure this is a nightmare…it has to be…”

My brother grabs me by the shoulders and slams me against the car. “Wake the fuck up, Annika. You shot him in the fucking chest. He’s probably dead, and if you go in there, they’ll only kill you, do you understand?”

“No…no…no…” My murmurs grow in intensity and so do my wiggling and distressed attempts to escape his hold.

This time, Jeremy throws me inside, uses the seatbelt to strap me in, and then he runs to the driver’s side.

I try to free myself, desperately, manically. But my involuntary tears and trembling bloodied hands make it impossible.

My brother’s car raves down the driveway and he nearly breaks the gate on his way out.

He’s speeding, and I’m wailing, looking behind me, through the mirror, through the gaps. Anywhere that I can catch a glimpse of him.

It doesn’t take us long to reach the Heathens’ compound. The moment Jeremy undoes the seatbelt, I run back toward the entrance.

No clue where I’m going on foot, but I can find a solution as long as I’m out of here. I can—

Merciless arms wrap around my middle and Jeremy all but lifts me off the ground. “The fuck you think you’re going?”

“To make sure it’s a nightmare.”

“It’s not.” His voice is harsh, all dark and businesslike. Usually, that would send me running. Now, it does nothing compared to the horror invading my bones.

He puts me down, grabs my elbow, and drags me with him inside the mansion. I try to free myself, but there’s no reasoning with my buffalo of a brother.

“What’s going—well, fuck.” Gareth stops near the entrance and studies all the blood decorating us. “Are you okay?”

“Nikolai,” Jeremy lets out through gritted teeth. “We have to make sure he’s okay. The crazy fucker had his throat sliced to keep from becoming my weakness.”

“Holy fuck.” Gareth retrieves his phone and storms toward the door. “I’m on it.”

“Where’s Kill?” Jeremy shouts, but Gareth has already left.

“A nightmare,” I murmur, half conscious, half trapped in a loop. “It’s just a nightmare. It can only be a nightmare.”

“Looking for me?” Killian appears at the top of the stairs, tilting his head to the side, narrowing his eyes on me. “Did you really shoot Creighton?”

My murmurs come to a halt and I stare, dumbfounded. Could Killian also have been in my nightmare?

“How did you know so fast?” Jeremy asks.

“Glyndon just called me, crying because her cousin is about to die. I don’t really appreciate it when someone makes my little rabbit cry, Annika.”

“I didn’t.” I shake my head frantically. “It’s only a nightmare. Jer was stabbed and it was also a nightmare.”

My brother releases a long breath. “She’s not herself. You go strengthen security. I’ll take care of her and join you.”

“I’m fine. Totally fine, and it was only a nightmare.”

Jeremy practically drags me up the stairs and into my room. The room Creighton came into that first night.

The night after which we got close.

The night I recognized him by the look in his eyes only because he was a god. My god. And I reached for him anyway.

I knew it was forbidden, but I touched that god, and now I’m being punished for it.

“Annika…Annika? Annika!”

I jerk out of my daze at my brother’s harsh voice, and the nightmare that just refuses to end filters back into the immediate reality.

Jeremy’s grabbing my shoulders, his eyes searching mine. “Will you be okay?”

My gaze flits to the blood on his T-shirt. It’s not as red as the pool from earlier, but it’s there. I touch it with my dirty hand, my fingers clenching and unclenching.

“This is a nightmare, too. You’re not bleeding, Jer.”

He winces, and then removes my hold. “I’ll survive. I don’t think he really wanted to hurt me.”

A sob tears from my throat as reality comes crashing down on me in all vivid red.

“He…he didn’t?” My voice breaks as wetness soaks my cheeks and neck.

Jer shakes his head.

“Then…then…then why…why did I pull that trigger? Tell me, Jer! If I wasn’t going to save you, if I didn’t have to, why did I pull it?”