Verum (The Nocte Trilogy, #2)(36)

Annoyance fills me up. “Why would you assume he did something?” I demand, yanking my nightgown out of a dresser drawer. “You’re imagining things. I just don’t feel well.”

He stares at me doubtfully. “I’m imagining things? Cal, this is getting dangerous. I don’t know what you’re up to, but it’s not good.”

I exhale a shaky breath, hating the way my lungs feel sick.

“I don’t want you here tonight,” I answer. And he’s instantly gone, the chair vacant and dark, and I’m alone.

I turn my back, heading straight to the bathroom to change.

I don’t know what’s wrong with me.

All I know is, something is going on with me, something I don’t understand. Something I don’t want.

I run the water for a long time, splashing my face, cooling me down.

It doesn’t help, and my dreams don’t either.

I toss and turn in my bed, unable to wake even though I want to. My breathing quickens and I feel like I’m right on the cusp of…something.

Dare whispers. “Keep going. You’re almost there. You can do this.”

I don’t know if I can.

I’m floating in an ocean of insanity. It’s just ahead of me, so close I can touch it. But even though it shines and glimmers, it has glistening fangs and I know it will shred me.

“I’m scared,” I whisper, gripping Dare’s hands.

“You should be,” he answers and his words impale me. “But it’s ok. I’m here. You’re not alone, Cal.”

But I feel like it.

I’m alone.

I’m bobbing in a dark ocean and the lies surround me.

“Help!” I scream out, but no one is there, not even Dare.

“Finn!” I shout. “Please!”

No one answers.

No one comes.

I’ve been cast away, and I’ll never be found.





Chapter 17





“We must host an event at the end of the week for Savage Inc. I want you to be there. I think being among people might be good for you.” Eleanor looks down her nose at me, and I squirm under her gaze. “That is all.”

I nod and scramble to my feet, heading for the door.

“Oh, and one more thing.”

We wait.

“Dress appropriately. The event will be formal.”

Oh, perfect.

I hurry out and when I’m down the hall, Finn is waiting for me.

“I’m sorry about last night. It’s not my business what you do.”

But his eyes are still hurt and it makes me feel awful.

“No, I’m sorry,” I tell him. “You were just being nice and I was being a bitch. I wasn’t feeling well, but that’s no excuse. I’m sorry, Finn.”

He nods and all is forgiven, because he forgives me too easily. “Are you feeling better now?”

I nod. Because I am and I have no idea what was wrong with me last night.

“I was, until I heard we have to attend some formal party with the wicked witch.”

“Ahem.”

We whirl around to find Eleanor behind us. Her face is impassive despite the fact that she heard me call her a witch.

“I wanted to tell you that Jones will take you to London to be fitted for a gown. Who are you talking to, Calla?”

Her eyes meet mine, and for the briefest of moments, there’s something almost human in hers. Something… concerned, maybe even hurt. But then she blinks and it’s gone, and I must’ve imagined it.

“No one,” I stammer. “Just myself.”

She’s unconvinced, I can tell. But she hesitates before walking away.

“You look very much like your mother, Calla.”

She leaves now, her spine stiff and her posture completely rigid.

“Do you think Jones puts that rod up her ass every morning, or does she do it herself?” Finn snorts and I laugh at him, and the weird mood is broken.

I don’t tell him that I have to stop thinking about him soon.

Thinking about him isn’t helping me, it’s pulling me into the past. It’s something I know, even though I don’t like it. I’m here at Whitley to get better, not regress.

But I’ll address that a different day.

There’s no reason to ruin today.

After breakfast, Jones takes me into London.

As we pull through the crowded city streets, I lean forward. “Do you have any suggestions on where to buy formal clothes, Jones?”

I’m thinking of my bank account nervously. The last I checked, it only had $237.26 in it.

Jones meets my gaze in the rearview mirror.

“I have orders from Mrs. Savage about where to take you, Miss Price. She’s got it all arranged and has an account in the store.”

Well, that’s a relief.

I settle back into the seat.

“I’ve never had a tux before,” Finn muses. Grief slams into me, because I know he hasn’t. And now he’ll never have the chance.

“You’d look amazing,” I assure him. “Everyone looks stunning in a tuxedo.”

The limo glides to a stop on the curb, and Jones is opening the door for me, his hand extended to help me out.

“Here you are,” he says politely, motioning toward the door of a glitzy shop. “I’ll be waiting for you.”