Page 31 of Gods and Graves
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
THEA
T he cave walls are made of faces, and they’re all screaming at me.
“Murderer.”
“Killer.”
“Reaper.”
“Die.”
“Die.”
“Die.”
I place my hands over my ears in an attempt to block out the cacophony of voices, all blending together until it sounds like a single discordant note.
On the ground before me, snakes slither and hiss, snapping at my heels. I squeak and jump in the air, instinctively reaching for Zaid.
The wraith wraps his arms around me protectively, but he isn’t looking at the snakes…which means they’re not really there.
“Thea. It’s okay. You’re okay.”
His calming voice doesn’t soothe me, however. Not the way it usually does.
I’m not sure anything will at this point.
I nod shakily, my gaze fixing on something over his shoulder.
A monster.
A monster constructed entirely of blood, with elongated fangs and glowing eyes. It advances on me with a lethal gait, malevolent menace twisting up his lips. He extends a clawed hand, the talons sharper than his teeth, and a scream lodges in my throat.
Not real.
Not real.
Not real.
But when he swipes his claws at me, I swear I feel the pain of the assault on my cheek, which begins to throb and ache. Blood wells. Or at least, I think it does. No one else seems to notice the red liquid cascading down my cheek.
“You killed me.”
“You’re a monster.”
“Die, reaper. Die.”
“Why won’t you just let me leave?”
“Why are you keeping us trapped here?”
“Why?”
“Why?”
“Why?”
“Why?”
The voices are loud—too loud. I can’t hear anything else. Not my guys trying to comfort me. Not my own thoughts. Not even the erratic pounding of my heart slamming against my rib cage.
I drop to my knees, agony ripping through me. I tear at the strands of my hair, which seem to wither beneath my hands. Oh god. The snakes. They’re in my hair. They’re in my fucking hair.
I pull and tug and scream, belatedly aware of multiple bodies surrounding me. Stopping me. Someone grabs my wrist, pulling my hand away from my hair. A different voice screams my name, begging me to stop.
They say this is just in my head, but it certainly doesn’t feel like it. The snakes… They’re crawling all over me. Tightening around my neck. I can’t breathe. Can’t breathe. Can’t breathe.
“What’s the meaning of this?” An unfamiliar feminine voice cuts through the dissonance in my head like the slash of a whip.
I blink through my tears, surprised to see a beautiful face peering back at me, framed by dark hair. Surrounding her are five silhouettes, their forms hazy and indistinct. Ghosts, maybe. Or perhaps hallucinations.
Or…fuck…maybe they’re real, and it’s impossible for me to distinguish reality from fiction.
“Get the fuck away from her!” That voice… It’s Everett’s.
But I’ve never heard him sound so desperate before. So fearful.
“Do you want me to help or not?” The woman kneels down in front of me, her face consuming the entirety of my vision.
She bites her lip as she considers me, her eyes emanating a strange, eerie light. Her gaze hardens on my hip, hidden by my shirt and jeans, and she reaches for my clothes abruptly, revealing the strange tattoo.
Someone growls.
Someone else curses.
The woman? She simply blinks, shock and horror mingling on her features.
“Fuck,” she whispers, her glowing hand hovering over the tattoo.
“What the hell are you doing?” Krystian demands.
“Saving her life,” the woman responds simply.
The voices grow louder and louder, practically screaming at me. Blood drizzles from my ears.
“Make it stop,” I beg—though I don’t know who I’m even talking to.
For all I know, this woman doesn’t exist either.
And then, mercifully, it does stop.
I have a second to see the woman’s taut frown…then everything goes black.