Lux (The Nocte Trilogy, #3)(62)



He’s standing on the edge and the dogs have skidded to a stop and we all watch my brother.

“Don’t do it,” I plead with him because his face is serious and pale. “I don’t know what this is about, but please don’t do this, Finn. I need you.”

“I need to save you,” he says simply, and his voice is emotionless and there is no fear in his eyes. Absolutely no fear. “It has to be me. I’ve always known. Dare told me long ago.”

His black Converses teeter on the edge and he lifts his hands.

“I love you, Calla,” he tells me. “I’d die for you. It’s got to be me, because it can’t be you.”

Life is in slow motion, and he limply falls back, like he’s falling into bed, but instead, he falls off the side of the cliff.

I race to the edge, and I watch and there’s no sound when he hits the water. No sound at all. How can that be?

Dare grabs my shoulders and I scream and scream and scream, and then two black flashes sail over the edge next to me.

Castor and Pollux.

They dive right through the air with purpose and I remember what Sabine said.

“He’d die to protect you.”

Maybe they’d die to protect Finn, too.

The dogs hit the water and I do hear them, and I turn, racing to the bottom, desperate to reach my brother and when my feet hit the wet sand, I run and the dogs are limping in from the surf, dragging my brother’s limp form between them.

The dogs are bloody and they’re dragging their bodies on splintered legs and they’re broken broken broken, and a wave of familiarity rushes over me and through me and I’ve seen this before, I’ve seen this before,

I’ve seen this before.

I’ve been here before, but that’s not possible and I can’t think about it because all I can think about right now is my brother.

I yank him away from the dogs and I breathe into his cold mouth, and he’s limp and he’s cold and he’s wet.

I drag him onto my lap and we’re halfway into the water, and I hear Dare on the phone and he’s talking to someone.

“There’s been an accident,” he’s saying, and I’ve heard those words before, from his mouth from his lips from his voice.

“Was it?” I look up at him, and my eyes are burning burning burning. “Was it an accident?”

Because Finn’s words his words his words. I’ve always known. Dare told me long ago.

Dare closes his eyes, and Finn’s eyes are closed, and he’s limp and he’s cold and he’s dead.

He’s dead.

Death is the beginning and he needs to start.

“I can’t do this without you,” I whisper in his wet ear. “Please God, please God, please God. Finn. Please.”

Silver glints and it’s his St. Michael’s medallion and he was wearing it and he wasn’t protected he wasn’t protected.

“Fuck you, St. Michael,” I scream and Dare’s hand is on my shoulder and I yank away because somehowsomehowsomehow, this is Dare’s fault. I feel it. I feel it. The pictures that Finn drew in his journal… Dare’s face was scratched out. Finn knew something I didn’t.

“What did you do?” I screech at Dare, and I refuse to let go of my brother. I clutch at his buttoned up shirt, and I clutch at his cold skin.

Help comes, but they’re too late, and they try to pry me away from my brother and I hate them I hate them I hate them.

I hold my brother’s hand as they lift him into the ambulance, but there’s a sheet over his face and they know he’s dead and no one has the guts to make me move. No one.

I ride with him to the hospital, and I hold his hand the whole way.

“What did you do?” I ask Finn, into his ear. He doesn’t answer and the sheet is over his face. His hand doesn’t move and he’s dead and he’s dead.

“Miss, you have to let go,” one of the paramedics tells me. She’s sympathetic, but firm, and they don’t know what to do with me.

“Never,” I tell them. And that’s metaphorical, and they know that. My hand falls away and they take my brother.

I sink to the floor and I stay there until Dare comes to get me, until he carries me to the car and straps me in and my head is on the window.

“What did you do?” I ask him, my eyes closed.

“Nothing,” he says simply. “That’s what I did.”

He reaches over and his hand is warm. “Because it can’t be you, Calla. I can’t let it be you.”

Nothing makes sense and when I get home, Sabine ushers me to my room and she forces me to drink tea, and I do it because I need the oblivion it brings.

I need to be in darkness.

I need to be with Finn.

I can’t exist in a world without him. He’s my light. He’s my light.





Chapter Twenty-Six





I’m wooden for days. I barely speak, I only eat what they force me to eat. I don’t want to exist, not without Finn.

Jones takes me to church, because I need to pray, even if it’s to a God who took Finn away. It’s the only thing I can do.

With a plain brick Gothic Revival exterior, the church looms against the cloudy sky, sort of severe and imposing.

I’m hesitant as I peer out the glass.

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