“I don’t want to be brave. My mother and I are going to die.”
So her mother was alive. It made Eric feel worse.
Eric gently removed Sorrel’s delicate hands from her angelic face and kept them in his. She resisted his touch, but this time he didn’t let go. “Sorrel, you can do this. You can heal your body. I need you to do that so you can wake up and fight.”
“I can’t heal myself. I don’t have any of my plants.”
“You don’t need them. All you need is inside of you. Do understand me?” Eric was positive she held some powers not even she knew she had. Some she shouldn’t have.
“I don’t believe you. You’re a murderer and a liar.” She ripped her hands out of his.
Eric hung his head. “Sorrel, I have done a lot of things I’m not proud of. But you have to believe me when I say I never meant to hurt you. I was trying to protect you.”
“I thought you wanted to be with me.” She sobbed and coiled away from him.
“I did. I do. But we can’t. Don’t you see that?”
“I don’t know what to believe anymore.”
“Sorrel, I’m going to find you. You need to wake up and fight. Promise me you will.”
Her crying ceased and her eyes narrowed. “Why should I promise you anything?”
He took her face in his hands and pressed a kiss to her lips. “Because it is you who must live.”
Eric jerked himself out of her dream and shut her door. She was alive and still had some fight to her. She was going to need it. So was he. Eric tried to wriggle his hands out of the rope that bound him. His grandfather, Frederick, unfortunately had a knack for bondage. Eric closed his eyes, trying to think of a way out of his predicament. If he could only get to his book and the wolfsbane he’d left in his car. Each member of his family carried around the roots of the plant in case they needed to sacrifice themselves and destroy the Telluses’ book. The roots had to be steeped like a tea for hours until they turned as clear as pure water. He hoped his family was still preparing the batch for his murderous great-grandfather, Alexander, to take.
Tara stared at Eric impatiently.
“I’m trying,” he said.
Tara’s eyes said to try harder.
A thought popped into Eric’s head. It was something he’d just told Sorrel. She had what she needed inside of her to heal herself. And he had water inside of him. Water he could control. Maybe. He had never tried. But perhaps if he could decrease the flow of water in his hands and wrists, he could slip out of the ropes that bound them. He would have to be precise and quick. A loss of circulation could be detrimental to the use of his limbs, which he needed now more than ever.
Eric closed his eyes, breathing deeply in and out, focusing first on the beat of his heart. Once he was tuned into its rhythm, he followed the flow of the blood that ran in his veins. He could feel his energy swell and attach itself to his cells. Carefully, he dammed the current that ran into his hands. Immediately he felt the sting of it. He held strong, though—too much was at stake for pain to stop him. His body shook from holding back the tide, yet slowly his hands began to shrink, and the rope around them began to loosen. He had barely enough feeling in his hands to wriggle out of their confines. As soon as he was free, he pulled back his energy. A surge of warmth spread through his limbs.
With his hands able to function properly, he was able to right himself and undo the rope around his legs and feet. He stood slowly, still feeling the effects of what his family had done to him. He needed a game plan and to think like his sadistic father. Where had he taken Sorrel?
Tara brushed up against him. He reached down and picked her up. “I told her I would find her. How? I lied to her again.”
Tara snuggled against him, purring.
One thing he knew: he needed to take the cat with him. And . . . he eyed Sorrel’s suitcase overflowing with clothes. Many of them pink. She was too innocent for the horror she was facing. The horror he’d subjected her too. “Agh!” he screamed out. “Where is she?”
He sat down on the bed, feeling more defeated than ever. He had no idea where to go. Where to even start. Maybe if he just destroyed his book first, it would kill his dad and grandfathers. It was a long shot, but it was the only one he had.
Just in case by some miracle he found Sorrel, he grabbed the cat and her suitcase. She would want both. He wasn’t sure why she had packed a suitcase or where she was planning on going. He’d showed up too late to the party. He should have known his father was lying to him. Or that he couldn’t get away with lying to his father. Regardless, if he could, he would make sure Sorrel got to where she wanted to go safely. Then he would destroy his book, because that was the only way she would ever truly be safe.