Whisper (Whisper #1)(70)
My mouth drops at his quick, unconcerned agreement.
“No, seriously,” he says. “I’m hardly destroying any of your words now — you’re doing most of it yourself. As long as you’re careful with your intent, you shouldn’t have any problems with your control.”
My hands tighten around the glove and glasses. “But what if I come face-to-face with this memory Speaker?”
Pandora grins and says, “I suggest you turn whoever it is into a frog. That’ll teach ’em.”
She’s not taking this seriously. None of them are. But none of them know exactly what I’m capable of. If they did, they wouldn’t be so relaxed around me. Not even with Kael here to keep me in check.
“Aw, come on,” Pandora says, laughing again. “Lighten up, Lyss.”
I’m so anxious about it all — the expectations, the misguided faith, the joking frog suggestion that would be all too easy for me to carry out — that I can’t keep from snapping at her. “Stop calling me that. ‘Lyss’ — ‘princess’ — I don’t know why you’re calling me that.”
Pandora looks taken aback. Hurt, even. “Um. Maybe because that’s your name? Well, not the princess part — that’s all Kael, and I’ll admit, that’s weird. But the Lyss part …”
I shuffle my feet, shift my eyes and wonder how I might escape the room and everything I’ve learned in the past hour. And yet, I still hear myself summon the courage to ask, “How can you possibly know that?”
It’s not Pandora who answers, but Kael. His voice is strong and steady. Calm, even. Perhaps too calm.
“We’ve been watching you for years, Alyssa Scott.”
My breath freezes in my lungs at the name I’ve heard only twice in over two and a half years, both times from his mouth. But he’s not finished, and I know this because the words he utters next shatter me from the inside out.
“We’ve been watching you since long before you killed your parents.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
I need air.
I need air, and I need it right now.
Heedless of what I’m doing or where I’m going, I tear out of the room before anyone can catch me. I hear cries of alarm from behind me, but I can’t stop — I won’t stop — I can’t stop — I won’t stop —
I run and I run and I run, following the flame-lit corridors of the underground labyrinth, not caring how lost I become or if anyone will ever find me. I just need to get away.
“Alyssa, stop!”
I can’t stop.
I won’t stop.
I can’t stop.
I won’t stop.
“Lyss! Would you just wait a second!”
My lungs are burning. I have a cramp forming in my calf and a stitch in my side that feels like I’ve been stabbed. But it’s nothing compared to the pain I’m really feeling. The pain that I know no amount of stretching or breathing will make go away. So I keep running, blurring my way through the unending tunnels and deep into the depths of the underground maze.
“Alyssa! Enough!”
Arms like steel bands wrap around me from behind, yanking me back in a violent halt. The abrupt stop pushes the little remaining air from my lungs, making me realize just how hard I’ve been breathing, with unnaturally short, sharp breaths. My pulse is skyrocketing, too.
I have no control over my reaction. All I know is that something is keeping me from running. And I need to be running. So I spin around and lash out like a cornered animal, punching, kicking, clawing my way to freedom. The arms only tighten, pulling me so close that I’m trapped against a hard, warm chest, barely able to wiggle, let alone maneuver myself free. Even so, I don’t give up. I fight. I fight.
It’s only when I begin to lag with exhaustion that I hear a deep, soothing voice as if from far away, and I realize the owner has been talking for a while, telling me some kind of story.
“… and then when I was fourteen, I rode my bike into a parked car — don’t ask how — and I fractured it again. I felt so stupid that I didn’t tell anyone for days. I waited so long that they had to stick a metal plate along the bone to get it to set right. Remind me to show you the scar next time you’re not trying to scratch my face off.”
The fight leaves me and I slump against Kael as the haze of terror clears from my mind.
“I-I-I’m s-s-s-sorry,” I stutter through chattering teeth. I don’t know if I’m cold or if it’s just my body’s way of dealing with what happened. “I d-didn’t mean t-to —”
“Don’t worry ’bout it, princess.” Kael’s arms are still supporting me. “Do you want to hear about the next one?”
“The ne-next one?”
“My next trip to the emergency room.”
That’s what he’s been sharing with me?
“Why’re you telling me about your hos-hospital visits?” I’m pleased that I almost manage to get the whole sentence out without chattering. My heart rate is calming now, too, and my breathing is almost back to normal.
I feel Kael’s shoulders move in a shrug. “You were panicking. It used to happen to my dad. The only thing that helped was if I gave him something else to focus on. So I would tell him stories — real ones, made-up ones, it didn’t matter. Just something for him to listen to. It helped draw him back, pull him out of his fear.”