Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 72909 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72909 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
He shakes his head. “I know”—his arms widen—“everything, Madison.”
Locking my eyes on his, I nod. “Okay, it’s settled.” Pushing off the door, I go straight to my bag and start shoving all my belongings back inside. “You’re coming home with me.”
“No!” he answers, walking toward me and halting my arm. Not roughly, but enough for me to realize this boy is a lot stronger than what he looks.
Interesting.
“I can’t leave,” he continues, releasing my arm.
“Why not?” I zip up my bag anyway.
“Katsia… she….”
“Who the fuck is she?” I drop my tone an inch. “Seriously, Damon, I’ve read the title-less book. Her diary or suicide note or whatever!”
Damon’s eyes turn hard and cold. “Tacet a Mortuis.”
“Pardon?” I ask, confused with his Latin again.
“Tacet a Mortuis is the name of the book. In English is Whispers from the Dead.”
“Oh.” My eyebrows pull together in confusion. The Book is still easier to say than Tacet a Mortuis, but okay.
A look flashes over his face. “Where is that book?”
“Um, it’s at my house. Why?” Dammit. I shouldn’t be so quick with trusting people.
“You must take care of it. People—” He stops. “I must leave now.”
“No!” I yell to his retreating back. “Please, you’re my only hope in figuring out what the fuck this world all means!”
“I’ve said too much. I will be punished. I’m sorry, Madison.” Then he walks out the door, the silence of his departure deafening.
Huffing out a breath, I sit on my bed.
What did he mean he would be punished? None of this makes fucking sense. Everything that should be simple is a fucking vortex of mind-fuckery, and the only person I can really rely on is myself. Deciding I won’t be getting any sleep tonight, I pick up my packed bag and walk toward the door. If I need to escape quickly, I don’t want to have to leave anything behind. Running down the hallway, I reach the elevator and press the down arrow a few hundred times before it dings open. Thanking my lucky stars it’s empty, I walk in and press on the Ground key. Once I reach the lobby, I step out and look around, scanning the area to make sure Katsia isn’t walking around before dashing out the front sliding doors, narrowly dodging the two reception boys at the desk. Why are they working throughout the night? I doubt anyone else would be checking in at this time.
The cold air hits me like a breath of fresh air when I see Damon. Quickly, I walk toward him. “Hey.” I look over my shoulder out of paranoia.
“Madison, what are you doing?” He looks around, making sure no one is behind me.
“Look, I just need to put these into my car in case I need to get out of here fast.”
Damon watches me closely before nodding and pulling my arm so I follow him to his valet desk. He unhooks my keys and hands them to me. “Parking spot fifteen. Madison, you must leave now.”
I shake my head. “No. I need answers. I’m sick of waiting for people to tell me when they’re ready. I need to know now.”
“I can’t.” He shakes his head. “Madison. I have person very close to me who will be in danger if I tell anything.”
I smile. “It’s okay, Damon. I can figure it all out on my own.”
“No.” He shakes his head. “You not understand.”
“I do,” I reply softly, touching his arm. “I understand. I have people who I’d protect too.”
He shakes his head again. “Person is you, Madison.”
Wait.
I squeeze the keys in my hand. “Me?”
He nods. “Etiam.”
“But you only just met me.”
His eyes glare into mine, the stare so strong I almost flinch at the electricity that passes between us. “You think this first time we’ve met?”
A long stretch of silence passes through us as I look from one eye to the other. “I… I—” But even as I’m about to say it, I know I do remember. “I—yes? I don’t know, Damon!” Feeling myself getting frustrated at all the mystery, I blow out a whoosh of air. “Tell me.”
He grips my arm again and starts tugging me toward the parking lot. “Come.”
I follow, noticing how his grip loosens as we get closer to my car, like he knows I’m safer the closer I get. “Open.” He gestures toward the SUV, and I obey, beeping it unlocked as we both slip inside. I toss my bag to the back and shut my door, the enclosed space feeling safer to talk now.
“You gotta give me something here, Damon. What is Venari? What does that mean? I haven’t heard that word since—”
“Lucan,” he finishes for me, and I flinch, my heart crushing in my chest at someone else saying that name.
“How?” I ask, fighting the tears, fighting the memories. I feel the dark murky fog rising inside of me, slowly seeping into my inner peace, and threatening to shatter every single thing I worked hard for over the years.