ChapterEight
SUNDAY
One week without Alek
The scream that tore from my throat woke me from a dead slumber. My every cell vibrated with the wrongness slithering over my skin.
“Sunday, what is it?” Caleb’s concerned question helped me focus.
“Nightmare... I think.”
“Your mother?”
“No. I haven’t dreamt about her in weeks.” That was odd, come to think about it. I would have much rather had one of those dreams than whatever the hellthathad been.
Caleb’s cool fingers encircled my wrist, but I jerked my arm free with a snarl.
“Don’t touch me. Something is wrong. I feel... wrong.”
“Is it the babe?” The worry in his voice cut through the unreasonable anger burning in my veins.
“No. It’s... God, it’s Alek. He’s enraged.”
“You can feel him?”
“I could. In my dream.”
“But not now?”
“No,” I forced out, the admission painful. As much as it hurt to feel him like that, it was better than not feeling him at all. “He’s gone.”
I closed my eyes and took a long, slow breath as I walked to the window and stared out at the moonlit sky. Wherever Alek was, he wasn’t safe and happy as I’d thought. Something was threatening him.
I’d assumed he left me willingly, that he didn’t want to be here. But whatever this connection had been in my sleep, the emotions roiling in him weren’t those of a man at ease with his decision.
“Come here to me, darling. You’re trembling.” Caleb laid gentle palms on my shoulders and turned me to face him. “Saints preserve us, your eyes are black as midnight.”
“What?” I pulled out of his grasp and ran for the bathroom. Flicking the switch, I blinked a few times against the blinding light that filled the space, then stared into the mirror. “Holy shit,” I whispered. My irises had bled fully black, but lightning flickered in the depths, sending me reeling backward. “What’s wrong with me?”
“Alek’s eyes were the same. It’s the berserker. How is this happening?”
“I’m not a berserker,” I screeched, panic clawing at me. I already had to deal with the fact that I was probably the daughter of Satan; I really didn’t want to add this to the list of Sunday is a Freakshow shit I was sorting through.
“No, I don’t think you are. I think you are channeling his.”
Relief cascaded over me. “What do you mean?” I asked, turning to face him.
“I noticed it the night he left.”
“And you didn’t think to mention it?”
“You had other matters on your mind.”
Okay, fair. But still, I think berserker eyes registered as something worth discussing.
“And after?”
“We weren’t exactly on speaking terms, Sunday. That doesn’t mean I haven’t been keeping an eye on you.”