Page 20 of Awakened and Betrayed
Kallan steps hesitantly into the room. “Do you want to talk about it?”
He leans back against the wall next to the head of the bed, his hands anchored against the plaster just behind his lower back.
“Why?” I ask, suspicion lacing my tone.
“Sometimes it helps to work through whatever is bothering you,” Nash offers.
He follows Kallan’s lead and steps into the room as well. He leans against the wall opposite me and crosses his arms over his chest. “It’s always helped me when my nightmares got really bad.”
I’m surprised by his confession.
“What are your nightmares about?” I blurt, in a whisper.
I instantly realize how messed up my question is, but it’s already out there, and Nash doesn’t seem bothered by it.
“My parents died when I was ten. For a long time, my nightmares were about that, about them. They trickled almost to a stop as I got older; that is, until about a week ago.”
“What brought them back? The lamia?” I ask, before I can stop myself.
Nash shakes his head, his black hair swaying, and his ice blue eyes fixed on me. “No. You did. Or, I guess I should say the keening noise you made when your friend died. That’s what has been haunting me these days. I can’t seem to shake that soul-shattering sound, or how broken I feel every time it replays in my nightmares.”
I look away from Nash’s penetrating gaze, not sure what to say.
“Yeah, I thought all the killing would stick with me more, but when I think back on what happened, two things stick with me. How I felt when I woke up tied to a chair in that cellar, and what happened in the back of the SUV that night,” Kallan confesses softly.
I look over to Kallan as his words taper off, but he’s staring at the ground.
“I see ash and blood when I close my eyes at night...and you, curled as small as you could get in the back of the car,” Enoch tells me, his haunted gaze fixed on mine.
The ball of magic in my hands fades to nothing, and the room falls silent as the confessions absorb the weight and pain of the memories they hold.
“I was tied to a chair in that same cellar,” I monotone, staring down at the runes on my hands. “I couldn’t get free. Talon was talking to me, warning me. But I couldn’t find him, no matter how hard I tried. Then, Laiken was there.”
I rub at my chest as an ache begins to build behind my sternum.
“I couldn’t get to her. She was screaming, telling me that I need to run. She was terrified.” My voice falls to a whisper. “That’s when I woke up.”
My heart starts to pound with the memory of her voice and the terror that was in it. I look around the room for her cedar box, needing out the reassurance that it offers me, but I quickly remember that it’s not here. She’s with Sabin.
I’m not sure why I’m telling them what happened. Maybe it’s because Nash shared, and I feel obligated to do the same. Or maybe he’s right, and I just need to get it out; purge the feel and impact of the nightmare, through my words.
“Do you think it means anything?” Becket asks me, as he slides down the door frame until his butt meets the polished concrete floor.
He rests his forearms on his knees and waits for me to respond. I shrug. I scrub at my face with my hands, tired and trying to work through my thoughts about everything.I’m not safe here. That pressing feeling has been growing more and more persistent since the lamia attack. But I can’t sort out what it means exactly. I’m not safe in Lachlan’s house? That’s what I felt initially, but I’m not there anymore. I don’t feel threatened by Enoch and this coven, so does this feeling mean I’m unsafe in Solace, amongst casters, or is it the elders that are setting off this unease?
“Where’s your gym?” I ask no one in particular.
I know there has to be one here somewhere. These guys are too built and defined, to not work out on the regular.
“I’ll show you,” Enoch announces, standing up from where he was sitting on the bed.
I move to follow him and realize that I’m still just in my underwear and a tank top. I slide open the closet door and snag a pair of yoga pants from a drawer. I pull them on and track down a sports bra. I push the straps of my tank top down and pull the fitted bra over my head. I secure everything in place and pull the straps of my tank back up. I turn around to try and figure out what box my shoes might be in and realize everyone is frozen and staring at me. They’re acting like they’ve never seen a female’s back before. I know I didn’t show them anything else.
“What?” I ask irritably.
Why do I feel like I’ve just done something I shouldn’t have? Enoch clears his throat, and it snaps the others out of whatever trance they’re in. He walks out of the room, and one by one the rest of us follow.
12
