Verum (The Nocte Trilogy 2)

“Yes,” he agrees simply and he takes her vacant seat.

He takes my book from my hands, staring at the cover.

“Jane Eyre,” he observes and he sifts through the pages. “Interesting choice. Are you my Jane, Calla?”

I swallow and look away.

Because that would make him Mr. Rochester.

“Jane saved Rochester, you know,” Dare continues, his voice smooth like the night. “Eventually.”

“I can’t save anyone,” I tell him helplessly. “Because I don’t know all the facts.”

Dare closes his eyes and he seems to glow from the flames.

“You do.”

I just can’t remember them.

He opens his eyes again, and the expression knifes me in the heart, because I’ve seen it before.

It’s hurt, it’s vulnerable, it’s anxious.

It’s hiding something.

Something I know.

Something that scares me.

Save me, and I’ll save you.

“I don’t like it here,” I murmur.

“I know.

”

* * *

I write my dad a letter, and I give it to Sabine.

“He’ll want to know I’m ok,” I tell her. She nods because of course he will.

She hands me a cup of tea.

In England, tea fixes everything.

“Is Dare here?” I ask casually, because even now, he’s the sun and I’m the moon. I need his light to live.

She shakes her head. “No. He’ll be back though, child. He always comes back.”

What a strange thing to say.

But I don’t dwell on it.

Instead, I think about light.

I think about how the moonlight is really a reflection of the sun, of how the moon doesn’t create any light at all. So a thing that seems to radiate silvery, ethereal light is really the darkest of the dark.