Verum (The Nocte Trilogy, #2)(3)

I have to admit that I do feel the danger. It crackles around me, everywhere. It’s here for me. I just don’t know why.

You’re not safe, Calla.

And of course, Dare. He’s here, he’s real, and I love him.

But.

I can’t trust him.

I can’t trust anything.

“I don’t know what to do,” I whisper jaggedly. “I want to hate you, Dare, for lying to me. But I can’t.” I’m too confused, and he’s my anchor.

He grabs my arm and pulls me to him, resisting my struggles, and then I’m limp.

Because here, surrounded by his scent and his warmth and his strength… this is where I belong. How can I argue with that?

“You belong right here, with me,” he tells me, his lips moving against my hair. “You don’t hate me, Calla. You can’t. I didn’t lie to you. I tried to tell you.”

His voice is afraid, terrified actually, and it touches a soft place in me, a hidden place, the place where I protect my love for him. The place where my heart used to be before it was so broken.

“You’re my own personal anti-Christ,” I whisper into his shirt. His hands stroke my hair frantically, trailing down my back and clutching me to him. “Why can’t you just tell me everything right now?”

“Because I can’t,” he rasps. “Because things are complicated, and unless you uncover it yourself, you’ll think I’m a monster. I love you, Calla. I will protect you. You just have to trust me.”

I yank back now, grasping at my courage and my strength. “Trust you? You must be joking.”

He’s surprised, and I’m shattered as I sprint down the beach, my feet sinking in the wet sand, the wind whipping my hair.

I love Dare, more than anything, but I can’t trust him. The only person I’ve ever been able to truly trust is dead.

I need my brother.

I need Finn.

I race up the trail, into my house, and up to my brother’s room.

It’s exactly like he left it.

I sink to my heels just inside the door.

The walls close in on me, four of them and the ceiling, coming closer, swallowing me, crushing me. I cover my ears and rock back and forth because amid everything, I still hear my brother’s voice.

It’ll be ok. It’ll be ok. It’ll be ok.

I can’t keep hearing voices.

Not even Finn’s.

I can’t.

I can’t.

I’m sane, Goddamnit.

I’m overwhelmed by Dare’s lies, by my fear… and by the very real fact that I’m so very fragile.

“Her hold on reality is tenuous.”

It’s a murmur that cuts through my panic.

I pause, halting all movement, not even breathing. The whisper comes from the other side of the door.

“No, I don’t want to do that. Not yet.” The voice, hissing and firm, and it can’t be real. There’s no way. I’m frozen as it envelopes me, as reality slithers further away.

“We have to. She wouldn’t want this.”

Confused, I stare at the wooden planes of the door, at the grain.

Is this really happening?

Or is my mind playing tricks on me yet again?

I gulp and draw in a shaky breath.

“Anything could send her back over the edge,” the familiar voice cautions, his voice careful and low and familiar. There’s no way it can be him. There’s no way.

Even still, I want to wrap myself in the sound, to hide in it, to escape in it.

But I can’t.

Because the answer is immediate.

“That’s why we have to handle her carefully.”

Handle me?

The door opens and I look up to find three shadows looming over me.

My father.

Dare.

And someone I can’t see, a faceless, nameless figure lurking in the shadows. I peer closely, trying to see if it’s him, even while knowing in my heart that it can’t be Finn.

It’s impossible.

I scoot backward until my spine is against my brother’s bed. I’m a skittish fawn, and they’re my hunters. I’m prey because I’m in danger, and I don’t know why.

But they do.

“Calla,” my dad says, kindly and soothingly. “You’re ok. You’re ok. But I need you to trust me right now.”

His face is grave and pale. I look at Dare and notice that his hands are clenched into fists, his knuckles white. The air in this room is charged now, dangerous, and I find that I can scarcely breathe.

I brace myself.

Because deep in the pit of my stomach I feel like I can’t trust anyone.

I squeeze my eyes shut, and push my face into Finn’s blanket. Through the muffled fabric, I hear words. I feel Dare’s hand on my shoulder. I feel the vibration of his deep voice in my chest.

And then I feel his absence.

I open my eyes.

The room is empty.

They’d given up.

Whatever they wanted to tell me, I’m safe from it now.

Because I’m alone.

With shaky steps, I climb to my feet and walk to Finn’s nightstand. I pick up his St. Michael’s medallion and fasten it around my neck.

Holding it in my fingers, I whisper the prayer, each word quick and stiff on my lips.