Page 156 of Change

The first resemblance of emotion stirred at me, and my throat felt tight.

I staggered back another step. I couldn’t leave him. I pressed my clenched fists against my chest, the world swaying in my vision as my gaze darted across the room. I had to help him, but I had no idea what to do.

I couldn’t breathe.

“Bianca…” Titus began again, but then his argument faded into background noise as my attention wavered.

Something warm and soft brushed against my right hand, and my slipping sanity fell back into place. There was nothing beside me, but the looming presence of a particular mirror.

My ears buzzed. It called to me, its presence growing larger the longer I stared. Before I knew it, I’d crossed the room and stood in front of it, and I brushed my fingers over the smooth glass surface.

Although I could see my reflection, I realized this wasn’t glass at all. Obsidian, maybe?

I wasn’t sure, but the dark coolness reminded me of the watch Finn had given to me.

The air stilled, and the strange humming stopped, as my attention remained fixated on the stone. Despite Finn’s accusations that I hadn’t been trying hard enough, I had always made an effort to mediate the way he’d shown me. But it had always been so difficult for me to focus. To shut out my surroundings.

But this…

This was mesmerizing.

Watching long enough, I could even see the glimmer of silver snow drifts scattered lightly across the surface.

The longer I watched, the more the shimmer glowed.

So pretty.

I was tracing a lazy pattern onto the glass, my fingers humming under the stone’s vibration, when the surface suddenly changed. My movements stilled and my breath caught as a shadow moved across the stone, the light pink of my nail polish contrasting with the smokey dark surface, and the last of the world fell from around me.

My pain vanished, as did awareness, and I was alone, falling through the dark.

But I was only left in peace for a moment.

A male’s deep, reverberating voice spoke through the night. “Who are you?”

My bare feet touched the floor—it was uncomfortably warm and strangely soft—and my hair whipped through the hot, dry air.

“What are you doing in my domain?” The question came from directly behind me. I jumped, spinning on the heels of my feet and stepping back.

The speaker was a tall man, even more than Titus, with messy, short jet-black hair and pale skin. His features were sharp and pointed, and he had sanguine eyes under thick lashes. He was wearing torn jeans and a black leather jacket, with fingerless gloves covering thin, elegant looking hands.

He held a sword in his right hand, which was loosely pointed behind him into the red dirt.

He was beautiful, but his appearance and the dangerous attire caused my breath to seize.

“Mu…” He grinned as his violating eyes moved over me, travelling over my naked breast. I should have been horrified—or at least embarrassed—but my skin was beginning to vibrate with pain and there was no hunger in his expression. “What a surprise. You’ve never come to visit me here before. Have you sought me out for another round?”

I opened my mouth, and the words flowed effortlessly from me now. “Who areyou?”

The man blinked, his bright grin dimming. “My name is Belial.”

Belial…

The simmering of recollection pooled at my thoughts. I’d caught Damen once talking into a mirror. Finn had said that he was arguing with an Overseer—someone named Belial who resided in the Underworld.

“Am I in hell?”

“No.” He cocked his head and raised his sword, resting the back of his blade across his round shoulder. He continued to eye me in a way that, now, began to reek of curiosity and elation. “We’re not quite there yet. This is purgatory, little fae. Now, to what do I owe the pleasure? Why are you disturbing my work?”