Verum (The Nocte Trilogy, #2)(38)

He glares at me now and I almost regret asking, but I don’t. What was he doing?

“You can’t know right now,” he snaps, his lips lush and his tone ugly. “Trust me, you can’t know yet.”

“Why?”

He pauses, then looks at me, his eyes sincere and open and mine. “Because you would be lost.”

As he walks away with the millions of hidden things in his eyes, I wonder if I already am.





* * *



I’m reading a book alone in the library when Sabine finds me, a cup of steaming hot chocolate in her hand. She sets it next to me, then sits in the adjacent chair.

“Dare is worried about you,” she tells me.

“He told you that?” I ask doubtfully, because he was so annoyed with me earlier. She shakes her head.

“No. But I can see it.”

I fight the urge to roll my eyes. “Don’t worry about it. If he’s truly concerned, he’ll tell me.”

Maybe.

But maybe I don’t know anymore.

“I don’t know that he would,” Sabine answers. “You’ve pushed him away. He has no idea how to reach you now.”

My chest hurts at that, because I know it’s true.

“I don’t want to talk about it,’ I answer stiffly.

She nods and changes the subject.

“Your grandmother knows you changed your gown.”

“Was it a secret?” I ask in surprise. “I didn’t like the one she picked, it looked terrible on me. I chose a better color.”

Sabine stares at me, humor in her old eyes. “She’s not pleased,” she tells me, but somehow, I feel like Sabine might be.

“You remind me of your mother,” she adds.

“Everyone keeps saying that. Is it a bad thing?” I ask hesitantly.

She smiles. “No. It’s a good thing. So curious and kind. I hope Whitley doesn’t change you.”

“It won’t,” I reply stoutly.

Sabine cocks her head, but doesn’t answer. She stares out the window across the hall, and makes no motion to leave. I stare at her over the top of my book.

“Was there something else?”

I don’t want to be rude, but I really want a minute alone, and something about this woman puts me on edge. She knows things better than I do… she knows Dare better, and she might even know me better. It’s unsettling.

She turns her gaze to me, wise and old, and I fight the urge to flinch.

“We should read your cards again,” she suggests. I do flinch now, and she chuckles.

“It’s not a scary thing,” she assures me. “My family has been doing it for hundreds of years. My mother, her mother, her mother. And so on.”

“Only the women?” I ask, curious now. She nods.

“Only the women.”

“Why?”

Why am I asking? This is clearly all lunacy.

She doesn’t bother answering.

“Have you been feeling all right?” she asks instead. I hesitate. Did Dare tell her I’d gotten sick?

“Yes,” I finally lie. “Perfectly fine.”

“How about sleeping?” she continues. “Have you been sleeping well?”

No.

“Yes,” I lie again. “Fine. I don’t need any of your tea.”

She smiles again, her teeth ever grotesque.

“That wasn’t why I was asking. If you experience any… disturbances, do let me know.”

Disturbances?

She glances at me knowingly before she shuffles away and I wonder what exactly she knows about me, and how does she know it?

I watch her disappear down the hall and it isn’t until she’s long gone that I realize that I have chills and that goose-bumps have lifted the hair on my neck.

I rub my arms and make my way quickly to the safety of my bedroom.

No one can see me.

I’m invisible.

There’s a sheet and blood and water.

There are stones and moss and sand.

SeeMeSeeMeSeeMe.

But they don’t.

Everyone bustles around, their faces turning into blurs.

“Help!” I scream.

But no one listens.

No one cares because I’m invisible.

I don’t exist anymore.

I want to scream and howl at the sky, but it would do no good.

The night is a prison, a prison, a prison.

But the morning will kill me.

I know it.

I feel it.

I am.

I am.

I am.

I am lost.

And no one can save me.





Chapter 18





I’m restless.

So very restless.

So I get dressed in a modest outfit, something befitting of a Savage so that Eleanor can’t complain, slacks and a short-sleeved pink sweater. Afterward, I find Jones downstairs.

“Do you think you could drive me into town?” I ask him. His answer is immediate.

“Of course, miss.”

I wait out front for the car, and as we’re pulling away, down the drive, I have the oddest sensation… like I’m being watched.

The hair stands up on my neck, and I twist around to see out the rear window.