Eventually, my eyes began to drift shut.
In the strange place between reality and dreams, I heard it.
Scratch.
A sound at the door. Faint.
Just like the first night,I thought.
I didn’t move. I just lay there, breath shallow, listening.
Wondering if I was still alone and afraid of what might be scratching at my door in the darkness.
CHAPTER 11
JONATHAN
Iwoke on a floor.
Naked. Hot. Humid. Covered in dirt.
Mouth dry. Lips parched.
Taste of blood…there, still.
Where am I?I thought.
Slowly, the blur sharpened and my surroundings came into view.
A ceiling loomed over me, its wooden beams catching the pale light of early morning. I was in my cabin.
I looked down. Scratches on my arms. A scrape across my thigh. Something dark streaking my side. I didn’t remember getting back here. My shoulder ached. My ribs throbbed. My jaw felt like I’d been chewing gravel in my sleep.
I scanned the room. Half the furniture was knocked around. My boots were missing. The front door…unlatched. A breeze whispered through the cracked frame.
What time was it?
Sitting up slowly, I felt pain flare low and deep. My muscles screamed. Every inch of me felt wrung out. I felt like an aging furnace, smoldering embers from a previous fire.
The blanket I kept by the door, my usual fail-safe, was draped haphazardly over me. That meant I’d made it back at some point. On foot. On instinct.
My fingernails were filthy. I didn’t want to check my teeth. The mirror would confirm what I already knew.
Another blackout.
Another episode.
Fragments splintered my mind. I remembered…the moon, inky-black night. Running. Branches whipping at me as I dashed through thickets. Chasing. Blood in my mouth. Fresher than it tasted now, dry and crusted.
I rose unsteadily, gripping a side table for balance. My knees shook. My body was caught between two skins—neither felt right.
I was losing control. Slowly and gradually. Ever since she’d gotten here.
My memory came back slowly.
Last night, I’d gone up to Cryer’s Point.
With Blanche,I remembered.