Without looking back, he leads me away,

Away from the veranda,

Into the gardens.

“I saw the sanatorium,” I whisper, and I turn into his tuxedo jacket, hiding my face. “I know you were there when you were small. I know they tied you to your bed and called you a monster. Am I crazy?”

“You’re not crazy,” his words are gentle, and it’s a soft tone I haven’t heard from him in awhile. My walls come crumbling down, and I cry.

The next few minutes are a blur.

I reach for him,

he pulls me close.

His breath is sweet,

his shirt is starchy and smells of rain,

musk,

and man.

His hands are everywhere,

Firm,

Strong,

And perfect.

His lips are full,

Yet

Soft.

His tongue finds mine,

Moist,

Minty.

His heart beats hard,

The sound harsh in the dark,

And I cling to his chest,

Whispering his name.

“Dare, I…”

“Let’s leave,” he suggests. “Let’s leave it all behind. Let’s spin the wheel and the chips will fall. Things will change but they can’t get worse. Let’s go, Calla. Come with me.”

So I do.

He takes my hand and I follow him,

Because I’d follow him to the ends of the earth.

I know that now, and I tell him.

He turns to me, his eyes so stormy and dark.

He scoops me up, and he’s striding through the hallways of Whitley.

His room is dark and masculine, the bed looming against the wall. We tumble into it, and his hand is behind my head as I fall into the pillow.

Our clothing is stripped away and our skin is hot and flushed and alive.

I’m alive.

Dare lives free.

We breathe that freedom in, and he strokes his fingers against me, into me, deep inside and I gasp and sigh and quiver.

“I… yes.” I murmur into his ear.

Consequences can be damned.

I don’t care who he is.

I don’t care what he’s done.

He’s here.

He makes me feel.

I want him.

He wants me.

So he takes me.

There is no pain.

He’s inside and fills me, and his hands…

work magic.

His lips…

breathe life into me,

Filling me,

Creating me.

I call his name.

He calls mine.

I’m intoxicated by the sound, by the cadence, by the beat.

His heart matches, in firm rhythm.

We’re so very alive,

And together.

Our arms and legs tangle.

Our eyes meet and hold.

His stare into mine as he slides inside,

Then out.

I clutch his shoulders,

To hold him close.

He shudders,

The moonlight spills from the window,

Onto my skin,

And his.

His eyes, framed by thick black lashes, close.

He sleeps.

But he wakes in the night and we’re together again, and again and again.

Each time it’s new,

Each time is reverent and raw and amazing.

In the morning, as he is bathed in sunlight, Dare finally looks away. Shame in his eyes, guilt in his heart.

“Sometimes, I wish I could just go away, and everyone would be better for it, and we’d never have to go through this again.”

“Don’t say that,” I breathe. “You’re the only thing keeping me sane.

“You don’t know what you’re saying,” he tells me, and his voice is rather hard. “I’m the one keeping you insane. We’re in a loop, you and I. And it’s never going to get better because neither of us will give in.”

“What loop?” I ask, confused, but Dare looks away.

“It doesn’t matter. All that matters is that I don’t deserve you. Can you see why?”

His voice is almost fragile.

You’re better than I deserve.

He’s said it before, over and over, and I never knew what he meant.

I’m not better than he deserves, not by a long shot, not ever.

He sits straight up in bed.

“Go check Finn’s room,” he tells me and his voice is tired. I look at him because Finn is dead and he knows it.

“He’s not,” Dare tells me, as if he can read my thoughts. “He’s not dead. You have to trust me. Go.”

He limply watches me leave the room, and I race to Finn’s, and when I do, Finn is there.

He’s sleeping peacefully in his bed and Pollux is at his feet.

And he’s breathing.

I can’t. I can’t.

The room swirls again and again, and I hold my hands out.

I’m falling,

Falling,

Falling, and I don’t know where I’ll land.

The world is a stage and we all act falsely upon it.

The die has been cast,

Has been cast,

Has been cast.

I feel it,

The truth.

It’s coming,

And it’s dark,

And I won’t like it.

I feel it.

I feel it.

We all have our parts to play, and I’ll play mine well.

But what is it?

I concentrate,

And think,

And more will come.

We’re all a bit mad, aren’t we?

Yes.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Sabine picks me up from the floor and she leads me to her room, her dark mystic room, where the walls are covered in darkness.

She sits me down and takes my hands and stares into my eyes.

“Finn is alive,” I say slowly, and the words the words the words.

She nods.

“But he was dead.”

She nods again.

“The hooded boy I kept seeing… all my life… it’s been Dare’s brother all along, and his brother is dead.”

Sabine nods.

I’m numb, I’m confused, and I’m so so tired of being this way. I tell her and she looks away, then back into my eyes.

“I’ll get you some tea.”

“I don’t want your tea.”

My voice is rigid and sharp. “I feel like I’m a pawn, and I’m being played.”

“Always trust your instincts, girl,” she tells me throatily.

And

Suddenly

Suddenly,

I feel the danger.

It laps around me, igniting in the air and crackling in my hair and Sabine’s eyes are as cold as death and she’s the danger.

My instincts are on fire, crackling, popping, snapping, and my eyes scan the room, quick, quick, quicker. My gaze comes to rest on something

Something

Something.

A photo, sticking out of a drawer. Just the corner, just the edge, but I’m drawn to it.

It’s important.

I know it.

I lunge to it, I grab it, I pull it out and peer at it.

And it’s Olivia.

And her eyes

Her eyes

Her eyes.

Black as night, black as coal,

Black as Sabine’s.

Black as Dare’s.

Jagged pieces of ice form in my heart and pump through my veins,

Ripping them

Ripping them.

“You,” I breathe. “You’re doing this. Somehow. How are you….”

My voice trails off because the look on Sabine’s face… I’ve seen it before.

“She was yours,” I realize aloud. “Olivia was yours.”

Sabine nods. “She was my daughter. My only child. I trained her, raised her as Roma, taught her the old ways. That girl was everything to me. Everything. And you took her. You and your brother and Adair.”

I don’t know what to say because the realization is overwhelming.

Sabine has been related to Dare all along?

The familiar feeling continues to grow and grow, and spread, and this room.

This room.

It swirls and twirls and it’s familiar. From before, from a time I don’t remember.

“There was fire here,” I say aloud, looking around, trying to retrieve the memories. “In all the corners. And Dare. And your voice.”

We invoke you.

We invoke you.

Restore my daughter, and I offer you

These lives,

Always

Yours.