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OK, feet, move. Wiggle toes or something. I couldn’t… feel. There were no sensation. How was that even possible? Was I having a stroke or something?

This was a dream. One of those weird dreams. What do they call it? Lucid dreaming, where you feel paralyzed.

Wait.

Is a demon fucking me right now?

Monique and I read this whole monster romance in undergrad. A sleep paralysis demon seduced all these women until he found his one true love. No. I’d know if a demon was fucking me. I would know. How the hell can I remember trashy monster fucking but not feel my fingers?

I tried to open my eyes. I still had eyes. I had eyes, right? I scanned myself from head to toe. I could feel I had hair, and knees, and toenails, but I couldn’t actually feel them. I couldn’t hear either. Maybe there was just no sound. I couldn’t see or feel or hear.

This was fucked up.

How about smell? I tried to take a deep breath. But I couldn’t feel myself breathe. Which was impossible. If I wasn’t breathing, I’d be dead. I didn’t feel dead. But I could smell. Sort of. It was more like the memory of a smell. Something dark like that thing all men’s cologne was trying to smell like. That thing, but more fresh and warm.

Taste? How do you taste if you can’t feel your mouth? And I’m not eating, so there’s nothing to taste. But there was… something. Hot, thick, coating my tongue. Delicious. Satisfying. With the flavor of… I had never had anything that rich before. I wanted more. Thirsty now. No. Hungry? No, it was thirst. Whatever. I wanted more of whatever that thing was. Whatever he gave.

All I had to do was reach for it. It’s right there. I knew it. Something was stopping me. Someone? Someone, something, pulling me down, cutting me off. My mouth was so dry. No. I didn’t have a mouth. But I have… thirst. Lack.

Call your power.

Where the fuck did that come from? It wasn’t a voice or a sound. It was… Just there. Not even a thought. Like an earworm, but true. Like a witchtok trending sound that gets stuck in your head. There. Circling.

Call your power.

Looping in my brain. No. I didn’t have a brain, I just was.

I call my power.

So thirsty, needy. Wanting. I want… I want him. That feeling. I felt whole, felt full. But I’m so empty. That’s it. I’m empty. Wrung out. Tapped out. If I just… reach. Pull myself towards. Him. Power. My power.

Blinding pain burned through me. Every cell jump-started and was on fire. My ears were ringing at the screeching sound. I covered them. Hands. I had hands.

That sound.

Me? Screaming?

This thirst, this need, want, hunger, screaming in every cell.

Just stop. Just stop screaming.

I took a breath, with lungs torn up from breathing for the first time.

I panted and curled into a ball. My rough breath made everything, even my hair, hurt. Fuck lungs. I hugged myself. Stomach cramps competed with burning lungs. What didn’t hurt? My eyes. I cracked them open. Mistake. It was pitch black, but even that much light hurt.

“Fuck. You’re not dead.” The hushed whisper crashed over me, the sound waves beating me to a pulp.

I screamed. Pushed away. Blue eyes glowed at me. The blue washed over me, soothing. I reached, pulled forward. The floor felt like broken glass. My skin was somehow new and foreign.

Closer. He had it. I wanted it. Needed it. Him. Wanted him. Needed him. Inside me. Mine.

SIXTEEN

LACHLAN

I had to hold her down. Put a knee on her back, pinned her neck, and one of her hands.

I should… I should just let her at me. Let her tear me apart. Rip me, not just my clothes.