Viktor’s face begins to emit heat, his skin becoming inflamed and red. The veins in his neck appear on the surface, hard and bulging and moving like worms underneath the surface of the skin. But under his eyes and around his cheeks and temples, tiny veins appear that are black. Aramei’s breath catches, sucking in the frigid air, burning her throat and her lungs. Her bloody gloved-hand comes up over her mouth and nose, her wide eyes peering over the edge of her index finger. She knows this is her chance to run away, that she’s wounded him enough that she can go back to the safety of her family, but the sight before her shatters her will and grounds her boots to the snow. Viktor’s eyes have become solid black pools. He struggles to breathe; his throat seizing rapidly at the air almost as if the air is poison and he’s choking on it. His bloodied hand still presses abrasively against his chest.
And suddenly, as if his whole body has turned to stone, every muscle ceases to move and his expression locks in a horrific, painful display. He falls face forward into the snow and doesn’t move again.
Aramei’s hands now press firmly against her stomach, her fingers grasp at one another in a restless, chaotic motion. Her eyes have remained unblinking the past many seconds and are starting to burn. Finally gaining some sense of dire awareness, her flight-response kicks in again. She rips away running through the snow-covered forest, tripping many times over hidden debris in the forest bed before finding her way to the edge of the valley. She has run for so long and so hard that when she makes it out of the cover of the trees, she falls to her hands and knees, gasping for air and dry-heaving violently before finally able to expel the food in her stomach.
Aramei lies on her side against the snow, covered only by the inadequate warmth of her coat. Her hands and feet are cold to the bones, but she can’t go any farther. The weight of what she experienced combined with her body’s unwillingness to push further; Aramei is doomed to lie in the snow until someone finds her, or until death claims her.
Chapter 15
Present Day – In the Cabin
MY MIND IS HURLED from Aramei’s chaotically, the colors and shapes of the scene zipping past me so fast and unexpected that I come out of it on my hands and knees, puking my guts up. My back arches as I heave violently onto the floor, a pool of vomit in front of me, which only makes me sick again as the revolting stench rises into my nostrils.
“Adria!” Eva says running up the stairs.
I’m trying to catch my breath and I move inches away from the vomit and roll over onto my back on the floor by the bed. My vision is doubling, tripling, until finally it pulls together into focus. Eva kneels down beside me; I feel her knees pressed gently against my side, her hand smoothing back the sweating hair from my forehead. “You’re done for the day,” she says with resolution in her voice.
I still can’t meet her eyes. I stare up at the tall ceiling, letting the patterns and swirls in the wooden rafters dance in front of my eyes, but I don’t actually see any of it. All I see are the memories of the vision I just came out of.
“You need to lie down and rest,” Eva says, trying to help me up, but I motion for her to move away.
“No,” I say shaking my head against the floor. “I have to see more. I need to go back under.”
“Adria, I—”
“If Aramei’s able,” I interrupt, finally meeting Eva’s eyes, “I’m going back in.”
Reluctantly, Eva nods and gives in to me, but there’s no absence of disquiet in her face.
Eva pushes herself back into a stand and wrings out the cloth that always sits on the table next to Aramei’s bed and she goes to clean my face. I let her. I lay still on my back as the cool cloth moves across my forehead first to wipe away the sweat, and then around my mouth. I shut my eyes and take in the comfort of the cloth, feeling my suffocated pores opening up to the coolness of it. After lying here for a moment longer, I pull myself up and lay next to Aramei again. I comb her hair with my fingers and stare down into her angelic, sleeping face. I never say a word. I can’t. I can never possibly describe to anyone how much I feel for her, because no one would understand. Not even Isaac. But my journeys into her past, although few, have brought me closer to her than even her own sister had been. Because I feel her emotions, because I am right there with her, experiencing everything that she sees and hears and tastes and smells and touches. It’s as if we are sisters, but share so much more with each other than anyone can possibly know.
And I’ve become addicted to her, to traveling into her past and living her life through her eyes. And I truly want to help her. I know better than anyone her pain and life. I could’ve been her. I keep saying that to myself over and over: I could’ve been her.
But she never had a choice. She never even had a chance. Not like I did. Infecting her very likely would not have turned out the same as me. I don’t doubt for a second that Aramei would’ve died and that’s why Trajan never risked it.
Aramei knows that I’m right there with her in these visions. She wants me here and she needs me to help her, though I still have yet to understand what for.
I have to know. And soon. Because her emotions are killing me.
Eva leaves us again without me having to ask her to go. I barely hear her when she quietly makes her exit after cleaning the floor where I had my little accident. I keep my eyes on Aramei the whole time, unable to tear my gaze away. And now I stroke her face again with my fingers and whisper softly near her mouth, “I know you can show me more.”
I can feel her steady breaths on my lips. Her eyes don’t flutter and she doesn’t move any muscle in her face to indicate that she can hear me, but I give her time. I lay with her for nearly an hour before she shows signs of being ‘coherent’ again.
And when I feel her breath quicken, I’m only given seconds before I’m thrust into her world again…and again.
Much later, I open my eyes to see Trajan standing over me, but I can’t make out where I am at first. I realize that I’m nak*d, sitting upright in a deep bathtub with Eva sitting beside me on the edge of the porcelain. Panicking, I lurch forward to cover my nak*dness with my arms, pulling my bare knees briskly toward me and pressing them against my chest. A great gush of water rolls over the top of the tub and onto the floor.
“No,” Eva says gently, putting out her hand as if to calm me, “you are safe.” She smiles down at me. “Forgive me, but I couldn’t get you to wake up, so I thought getting you into the water might help.”
With my arms pressed tightly across my br**sts, I jerk all around every which way to find my clothes or a towel, anything to cover myself with. I see that this tub is an old-timey standalone claw-foot situated away from any walls. Away from anything I could put around my body.
“What are you doing in here?” I snap at Trajan, my eyes full of resentment glaring across at him. At the same time I’m thinking: What am I doing in here? Because Eva’s explanation really hasn’t sunk in yet.
Trajan is unfazed by me. He stands over me with his hands folded together behind him. No emotions in his face. Just the same domineering look he always has when he expects information from me. I know he could care less that I’m nak*d and that I’m clearly pissed off that he’s invading my privacy, but it doesn’t stop me from being openly irate about it.
“Do you mind?!” I shriek.
“Tell me what you saw,” he says simply, completely ignoring my anger.
“Look,” I growl at him, “I draw the line right here! You force me to help you, threaten me and threaten Isaac—you have no boundaries! The least you could do is show a little respect! I don’t care who you are!”
Trajan moves so fast towards me that I don’t have time to blink. My nak*d body is pushed down against the side of the tub and I thrash about, splashing the water out all around me as I gasp to fill my lungs with air again. A thunderous boom resonates through my head as the back of my skull is rammed against the porcelain and a thousand black and yellow spots flutter around in my vision. I feel Trajan’s powerful hand around my throat, his thick fingers squeezing my muscles with just enough force to terrify me into total submission.
I’ve gone too far. And I knew that I had before the last word even escaped my lips.
I despise him, but at the same time I can’t help but respect him because of what he is. He’s not human and for me ever to think that I could treat someone with his power, someone of his kind with the same defiant nature as a human, I admit I’m one stupid girl for it.
Trajan only releases his grip when he feels my body give in to him. My hands slowly slide away from his wrist where his own hand is around my throat. I stop thrashing and gasping and my silence leaves only the sound of water trickling onto the floor. His fingers slide away from my neck and he slowly raises his body, but his dark, piercing eyes never leave mine. I see Eva from the corner of my eye as she stands against the wall; indifferent on the outside, but I see in her face, total dismay.
Finally, I look away from Trajan and down at the water rippling beneath me with all of my subtle movements.
“I’m sorry,” I say and raise my eyes to him again. “Not because I’m afraid of you, but because I’m not.” Curiosity sparks in his eyes, almost unnoticeable, but I catch it.
I go on, “But it doesn’t mean I don’t respect you…and…,” I look across at Eva and finish, “…I’m not like Viktor Vargas. I can hate you without losing my dignity.”
It seems that my willingness to accept his authority, even with defiance in my words, is all I needed to gain his respect. He gives me a single nod of sanction and says, “I will be waiting for you in the main room. Do not keep me waiting.” And he turns and leaves me alone with Eva in the downstairs bathroom.
Silence fills the room for a moment and we just look at each other. Maybe she’s trying to figure out what to say the same as I am, but then she smiles and walks over to me with a thick black bathrobe.
“You cannot go under for that long again,” she says, holding the robe open for me and I rise from the water and step out, slipping into the fabric. “It’s very dangerous, you must understand. You risk never coming back out.”
I tighten the rope around my waist and look at her.
“How do you know this?”
She’s hesitant at first, glancing downward at the floor. “We shouldn’t keep Milord waiting.”
Eva points to my clothing on the pedestal sink and then slips out of the room, ignoring my question.
I get dressed slowly, but not to intentionally keep Trajan waiting. I can’t help it that every movement I make is dictated by deep thoughts. My head is overloaded with a lot of everything, so much that I can’t focus on one thought alone long enough to actually remember it a second later when the next one comes around. I bring up my hands, my fingers spread in a claw-grip and I clutch my head on both sides, my eyes squinting as if trying to force down all of these thoughts into a place where they can be controlled. I move my hands from my head and brace my palms against the wooden wall and just lean forward. My head drops and I stare down at the floor.