Lux (The Nocte Trilogy, #3)(72)

We’re pulled to it.

And we can’t turn away.

Finn takes off his medallion and he hands it to me because the car crackles with danger.

“Wear this,” he instructs and his voice is firm. “Don’t argue.” I try to give it back and he won’t take it, so I slip it over my head.

St. Michael, protect us.

The road curves and Dare sucks in his breath and I look.

His brother lowers his hood in the middle of the road, and stares at us with black eyes. Olivia Savage stands with him, her face paler than paler than pale.

“Dare… she’s not real,” I tell him. But we know that anything is possible. She’s a daughter of death, of Salome.

“This has to end,” Dare says and I don’t know who he’s speaking to. “Calla, get out of the car. Finn, you too.”

“No,” Finn says flatly, and I try to say no, but Dare is pushing me, shoving me, making me get out of the car. His mother takes a step, and the door is open and I can’t stay in the seat because Dare is stronger.

“I love you, Calla,” he tells me and his eyes are hauntingly black. “I’m going to end this. It’s going to be me.”

“Dare!” I shriek, and Finn looks at me, and I scream his name, too. “Finnnnnn!”

But Olivia steps one least step, and I know now what Dare meant so long ago when he told me he’d done a terrible thing. It was always going to lead to this, and I think he’s known all along.

“Dare, no!” I shriek and he doesn’t listen. He’s intent on ending it and I think I know how.

“Do it,” his mother whispers and I watch her lips move and I know I know I know what must be done. I know…and so does Dare.

All I can do is try to leap back into the car as Dare slams his foot onto the accelerator. Dare looks at me in alarm, and he can’t stop, he can’t put this bullet back into the gun. He grabs at me, trying to save me, trying to save me.

St. Michael protect us in battle.

We plow through Olivia and it’s like she’s mist. She fades away as we pass.

Be our defense against the wickedness and snares of the devil.

I clutch the medallion and we sail over the cliff and the tires don’t touch the road and we’re airborne.

I hear Finn in the back and he loves me, and the squeal of tires and the sound of metal and the water rush rush rushing.

May God rebuke him, we humbly pray, and do though, O Prince of the heavenly hosts, by the power of God, thrust into hell Satan.

My chest is ablaze, it’s got a heavy heavy weight and I can’t take the pain.

I’m falling,

Falling,

Falling,

And the water is cold,

The sand is damp.

And I’m broken,

I’m broken,

I’m broken.

Dare is with me, and there’s blood all over his shirt.

“Are you ok?” he asks quickly, and his hands are on mine. “God, Calla, are you ok? Open your eyes, open your eyes.”

“Calla, be ok,” a voice urges and I can’t tell if it’s Dare or Finn.

I can’t tell

I can’t tell

I can’t tell.

“Be ok,” it instructs again and I try but the heavy heavy weight on my chest is too much and I can’t breathe and I can’t breathe. But I have to protect my brother, and if I live, Finn cannot. I release my grip and my lungs are empty and I stop.

I stop.

I stop breathing.

“You’re dying,” Dare whispers into my neck. “If you don’t wake up, you’ll be lost.”

The water slides down my cheek into my neck and a hand holds mine and blackness is here and I slip into oblivion.

Oblivion is real.

That much I know.

It’s warm and comforting like a blanket.

It hugs me, and I’m gone.

And all the evil spirits, who prowl about the world seeking the ruin of souls.

Amen.





Chapter Thirty





The world slows to a stop.

It’s dark.

There is no ocean.

There are no waves.

There is no sun or rain or moon.

I stay this way for so long, suspended, alone, unafraid.

And then,

A breath.

From my lips.

Suddenly, without warning.

I gasp, and there is only my breathing, and beeps, and fingers wrapped around my hand, and I’m in a bed. I’m not in the ocean or on the cliffs.

“Come back to me, Calla,” Dare whispers, and angst laces his words, and his words impale my heart. “Please God, come back to me. Time is running out. Don’t do this, please, God, don’t do this. They’re going to take you off the machine, and if you don’t breathe on your own, you’ll die. Please God. Please.”

He begs someone, whether it is God or me, I don’t know.

“We’ve already lost everything else,” he whispers. “Please, God. Come back to me. Come home to me. Come home.”

I try to open my eyes, but it’s too hard.

My eyelids are heavy.

The darkness is black.

Dare keeps talking, his words slow and soothing and I might float away on them. It would be so easy.

Death waits for me,