Verum (The Nocte Trilogy, #2)(15)

“One for one for one.”

The whispers seem to come from the corners, from the shadows, from the halls. “One for one, Calla. One for me, one for me.”

It cackles and hisses and I run around the corners, into the dark.

As I escape, I realize something and skid to a halt.

I left Finn behind.

They have him now.

No.

No.

I have to go back. I turn, but I can’t move. My feet are enmeshed with the ground.

I hear him screaming and I force myself to move, but I’m suddenly stopped by Dare.

He grabs my arms and restrains me, his arms like steel bands, not letting me go.

“You can’t help him now,” he tells me somberly, his black eyes glistening. “I’m sorry.”

My screams wake me up and Finn is still sitting on the side of my bed.

“Are you ok?” My brother’s voice is anxious, and the moonlight shines onto his face. “You’re just having a dream. Wake up, it’s ok.”

I nod and grab his hand and he grins.

“Was it the bogeyman?”

I try to smile back, but the feeling of terror and loss is still too great.

I nod instead. “Yeah. The bogeyman.”

It’s a private joke, because Finn and I have always said that there’s no bogeyman in the entire world that we’re scared of since we sleep in a funeral home.

But my dream…. It preyed on the thing that does scare me, the thing that has always scared me the most.

Losing my brother.

But that already happened, and I survived, and I’m still here.

But the fear still owns me, because I can’t let him go.

“I’m fine,” I tell him confidently. Because it was just a dream.

Just a dream. The worst already happened.

He nods and starts to get up, but I tug at his hand. “Stay.”

Because maybe it was a dream, but it was so real.

There is understanding in my brother’s eyes and he curls up next to me without a word. There are no words needed, just his soothing presence. Real or not, he calms me and I’m not ready to give that up.

It’s not long before Finn’s breathing is soft and even and I know I’ve imagined him into sleep.

I watch him, the way his chest pulls deep breaths, the way his mouth is slack. The way he’s my other half and I have no idea what I’ll do without him, even though I know I have to try.

My chest is still aching from the dream, my heart still skipping beats. I’ve never had such a real nightmare before. It rattled me to my core.

It made me never want to sleep again, for fear of having the same dream again.

So I climb from my bed and roam the halls of Whitley.

Something about this house disturbs me. It’s as though there is darkness in its heart, as though it has a soul, and it wants to absorb mine. I realize just how crazy my thoughts are, and I fight to suppress them.

Treading lightly, I quietly pad over the marble until I get to the massive glass doors of the library.

I only hesitate a moment before I open them and head outside.

I don’t know why.

I just know that I need some air. I need to be away from the pressing confines of the house. Something in here stifles me.

It’s not until I’m halfway down the path to the stables that I realize I’m barefoot. I’d walked from the house without any shoes.

What kind of lunatic am I?

I’m just turning to go back to the house when two headlights appear down the driveway. They shine into me, illuminating me through my nightgown, exposing my every line and curve. I wrap my arms around my waist, attempting to conceal myself in vain. But the car, a dark Porsche, doesn’t stop. It rolls past me toward the garage, and as it passes, Dare’s dark eyes stare at me through the driver’s window.

It must be 3 am and he’s only just now getting home?

Where in the world has he been?

But with a sinking heart, I know that it’s not my business, because I told him I wanted space. Because he’s an adult and he can come and go as he pleases and this is what I wanted.

It starts to rain so I pick up the pace, but it’s a wasted effort. By the time I make it to the gardens, it’s pouring, and I have to stop in a gazebo to wait it out. The wet winds blow across the moors, howling in a hauntingly chilling moan, and chills run up and down my spine.

I’d thought living in a funeral home was creepy. This estate makes that seem like child’s play.

Shivering, I huddle under the roof, the wind cutting through my wet nightgown.

What was I thinking coming out here?

“You know, most people wear shoes. And clothes.”

Dare lunges beneath the roof for shelter, soaked from head to toe. Unlike me, he’s fully clothed, but exactly like me, he’s completely wet.

“It’s not doing you a lot of good,” I point out. “You’re soaked through.”

He shrugs as he leans against a column, barely out of the downpour, shaking the water from his hair. He’s long and slim, and something about him reminds me of a deadly cobra, coiled to strike.

“It’s ok. I won’t melt, trust me.”

He examines me, his eyes as black as night. “What are you doing out here in the middle of the night, anyway?”

I think I see amusement in his eyes, amusement laced with concern, but I look away before I can be sure. This situation unsettles me, puts me on edge...wakes up every nerve ending.