Into the Night(80)

His arm curled around her.

“Tomorrow will be better, won’t it?” Macey asked him.

“It will be better.” He would have given her any promise. Did she still not realize it? He’d make tomorrow better. For her. Anything, for her.

He held her as her breathing slowed. As she slipped into slumber. And only then did he close his own eyes.

It will be better.

*

JONAH RUSHED THROUGH the woods, tilting his head back as he stared up at the stars. He needed those fucking constellations right then. Because he had no clue where the hell he was. He’d escaped, and now he had to plan.

Plan, plan.

Because that little prick was going to come after him again.

I’ve got to stop him.

But first, first he had to stay alive.

His gaze frantically scanned the stars overhead. When he’d been a kid, his dad had told him all about the constellations.

Look at Orion’s Belt, son. See it up there? One of the brightest patterns in the sky. Alnilam, Mintaka and Alnitak. Those are the ones that gleam up there in his belt. Orion, see, he was a great hunter. So powerful. It’s important to be powerful, son. Because the weak...the weak will always be prey to everyone else.

Jonah’s body shook as he tried to banish his father’s voice from his head. He didn’t need those memories. Didn’t need the shit his father had tried to teach him.

He didn’t need any of it.

He looked down at his hands, and...for just a moment, he noticed...there’s blood on my hands.

He staggered back, then realized, the blood...right, right. It was just coming from his wrists. He’d struggled against that rope for so long that his wrists had started bleeding. That was why he had blood there.

No other reason.

The weak will always be prey to everyone else.

He surged forward. He wasn’t weak. He’d proved that, over and over again. He’d get out of those woods. He’d find Macey. He’d stop the freak with the nails.

I’m. Not. Weak.

*

THE LIGHT WAS in her eyes, blinding her. Macey couldn’t see past that too bright light. She was strapped onto the operating room table, but it wasn’t the straps that held her immobile.

He’d drugged her.

“I could stare into your eyes forever.” His rumbling voice came from behind the light. “So unusual, but then, you realize just how special you are, right, Dr. Night?”

She couldn’t talk. He’d gagged her. They were in the basement of the hospital, in a wing that hadn’t been used for years. Or at least, she’d thought it hadn’t been used. She’d been wrong. About so many things.

“Red hair is always rare, but to find a redhead with heterochromia...it’s like I hit the jackpot.”

A tear leaked from her eye.

“Don’t worry. I’ve made sure that you will feel everything that happens to you. I just—well, the drugs were to make sure that you wouldn’t fight back. That’s all. Not to impair the experience for you. Fighting back just ruins everything. I know what I’m talking about, believe me.” He sighed. “I had a few patients early on—they were special like you. Well, not quite like you, but I think you get the idea. They fought and things got messy.”

A whimper sounded behind her gag because he’d just taken his scalpel and cut her on the left arm, a long, slow slice from her inner wrist all the way up to her elbow.

“How was that?” he asked her.

It hurt. She was in hell. And she was staring at the devil.

“I’ll start slowly, just so you know what’s going to happen.” He’d moved around the table, going to her right side now. “I keep my slices light at first. I like to see how the patient reacts to the pain stimulus.”

She wasn’t a patient. Nothing was wrong with her. She just wanted him to stop!

But he’d sliced her again. A mirror image of the wound he’d given to her before, a slice on her right arm that began at her inner wrist and slid all the way up to her elbow.

“Later, the slices will get deeper. I have a gift with the scalpel, haven’t you heard?” He laughed. He was laughing at her pain. Laughing at her horror. Laughing at her.

“Every time I work on a patient, I wonder...what is it like without the anesthesia?”

Sick freak.

“But not just any patient works for me. I need the special ones.” He moved toward her face and she knew he was going to slice her again. He lifted the scalpel and pressed it to her cheek.

The fingers on her right hand jerked.

“You and I are going to have so much fun, and those beautiful eyes of yours will show me everything that you feel.” He paused a moment. “I’ll be taking those eyes before I’m done.”

It was a dream. No, a memory. Macey knew that, but she couldn’t make herself wake up.

When he leaned forward once more, Macey realized that something was wrong with Daniel’s eyes.

There were nails in them.

“You never see the monster coming... You can’t see him, not until it’s too late.”

She shot up in bed, sucking in a deep breath.

“Macey?” Bowen’s arms wrapped around her. His touch was warm. “You okay?”

No, she was so incredibly far from okay. A glance at the clock on the bedside showed she’d been sleeping for three hours.