Verum (The Nocte Trilogy, #2)(34)

I feel it in my bones,

In my bones,

In my bones.

I sing a song of nonsense, and it sings back. The notes echo and twist in the air, and I swallow them whole.

“Come out,” I call behind me, because I know they’re there.

I can’t see them, but they’re always watching.

Eyes appear, blood red, and they blink once, twice, three times.

“I can see you,” I announce and there’s a growl and then I’m crushed beneath the dark, beneath the weight, beneath the oppression.

“You don’t scare me,” I lie.

There’s savagery here, there’s grace.

But above all, there’s oblivion and no matter what I do, I will be sucked into it.

I know it.

I feel it.

I’m crazy.

And it doesn’t matter.

I’m the rabbitrabbitrabbit and I’ll never be free.





Chapter 16





For some reason that I can’t explain, I’m holding my breath, waiting to see if Dare comes to dinner.

He does.

Dressed in black slacks, shiny black loafers and an oatmeal-colored soft shirt. He wordlessly moves across the room, sits in his seat, and places his napkin in his lap.

I look at my plate, remembering the way his hands touched me yesterday, the way I’d wanted it, the way I can’t forget how he makes me feel.

My cheeks flush and I take a bite. They’re both staring at me, or at least it seems that way.

“The fish is delicious,” I finally offer, without looking up.

I think I hear Dare smile. My discomfort probably amuses him.

“Adair.”

Eleanor’s tone makes it sound like she just ate a persimmon.

“Yes?”

I look at Dare and it’s easy to see that he can’t hide his disdain.

“Play for us.”

She commands him like a monkey, like he’s expected to jump when she beckons, which of course he is. We all are.

Wordlessly leonine, he walks to the piano in the corner. Sitting at the bench, he gracefully does as he’s told.

The song he plays is something sad and dark, which is perfect, because that’s the mood I’m in. The notes brush my cheeks, play with my hair, and then fall limply onto the floor when he’s done with them, after he strokes each of them from the keys.

I watch his hands and I can’t help but remember yesterday, the way those same strong hands skimmed my wet body, tracing my curves. I can’t help but remember how I’d let him touch me, how I’d folded into him.

I know I wouldn’t have resisted if he wanted more.

But then he didn’t.

I feel like I’m a lamb, and he’s a wolf. But at the same time, I feel like he doesn’t want to be. He’s caged, when he should be wild, and I don’t think he knows what to do about it.

The room is silent as we listen to his song, and I’m more emotionally charged by the minute. My past wells up in me, my present, my future. None of it looks good and then the music stops and my emotions pause.

Dare pushes the bench back, and he walks straight for me. My heart pounds as he bends, his lips close enough to graze my neck.

I remember those lips. The way they feel soft, yet firm. The way he tastes of spearmint.

“You smell like apples.” His whisper is low. I close my eyes for a scant second, because an apple is what destroyed Eden.

I open my eyes.

“I’m sorry I was rude earlier. This is just so goddamned hard for me.”

I know.

God, I know.

“Meet me in the garden tonight and I’ll make it up to you. Midnight.”

I glance up at him and I’m brave, but my bravery will get me eaten. Whether he wants to be or not, he’s a wolf.

And I’m a lamb.

Dare walks away, because it doesn’t matter to him what anyone thinks.

Dare does what he wants.

He lives free.



* * *



Midnight comes quickly.

I swing the gate open and tread inside among the night lilies, evening primrose and moonflowers. This garden is filled with things that are vibrant during the day and opulent at night. It is a small piece of paradise in the middle of a frightening place, and my mother had loved it. And so do I.

“Hey.”

He’s here already, and he lingers in the shadows, so at home in the night.

It reminds me of something my brother scribbled in his journal.

Nocte liber sum. By night I am free.

Am I free here with Dare?

“Hey,” I answer, internally commending myself on my eloquence. “You’re early.”

“I wanted to be ready.”

His voice is velvet, and it wraps around me like a blanket.

“What do you want with me, Dare?” I ask him honestly, because at the moment, I don’t know. He’s hot and cold, a distinct puzzle and I can’t put him together.

“I can’t do this anymore, Calla. It’s too hard to watch you, to stay away from you….” his voice trails off. “We’ve been through so much already. Don’t do this to us now.”

“So again, I ask you, what do you want from me?” my words are simple, and I don’t know what I’m doing.