Where was she?
Oh, yum. Romano. He was hot, his heat drawing her until she couldn’t think or breathe. The air here was thick. She’d always heard the phrase “thick enough to cut” but she’d never felt it until now. It started angry, raging even, burning against her flesh and sizzling away cells and slipping into the missing pieces. The locks broke within her, spinning and turning, tumblers sliding into place, and those black, ugly spots changed. They set on fire, flaring brighter than the sun, eclipsing the darkness until she wanted nothing but skin.
Romano’s skin.
Close.
She wanted to feel him, taste him. Where was he? She couldn’t find him, and it pissed her off. She needed him, and the asshole always threatened to eat her alive. Well, now she wanted to eat him.
Something was wrong. Her mind kept splintering, fracturing and running away. Tumbling chaotically through thoughts, holding on to them like sands slipping through her fingers.
Fingers, oh, around Romano’s shaft, pumping him until he was stiff and hard, his soft skin slick with his need and her saliva. That’s what she wanted. It all made sense now. She searched for that, pulling to get him closer, to find his heat, his desire. She craved him and was finished denying herself.
But would there be a tomorrow?
Come this way, little mage. Hungry mage. We can feed you.
What?
Finally looking around her, she realized she was in a place she’d never seen before. Jagged shards of obsidian grass pierced a swampy black ground. The earth twisted and moved like oil and water wrapping around her ankles.
Come, come, mage. We will make you stronger.
No. She didn’t want to be stronger. She wanted to get out.
“Please, help me!”
Her voice went out and came back, slapping her in the face with the force of torrential wind before slipping her off her feet.
Welcome home.
She screamed again, but there was no sound. Her wail was only a raw bite in her throat. Terror clogged her chest, making it hard to breathe with each gasp, pulling at her hair, yanking on her skin, ripping into her and twisting her up.
Although she was afraid and her mind fought against each step with fright to freeze her, somehow, she recognized this feeling. In her blood, the metals of her existence sang. They rejoiced to be back here. To touch chaos once again.
Chaos.
Something about that made sense, but it was too late and it slipped away. She couldn’t hold on to anything more than desire for Romano or the feeling of homecoming into the sharp, inky night. Which one was real? Or was any of it? She couldn’t make sense of it.
“She’s deep in there. Let me look at the child.”
The woman’s voice wrapped around her, anchoring her. The accent was thick, but Kalinda couldn’t place it. The one thing she did know was when she heard it, her mind cleared.
“I’m here. Right here.”
“I have you. Feel me now?”
Her voice was a rope, rough-hewn twine, wrapped around Kalinda’s ankle and tethering her to the ground, wherever that was.
“Now hold on, gal, while I work.”
There wasn’t much else Kalinda could do. For now, she peered around, floating in the air, the oppressing feeling of the air. Now she saw everything wasn’t black but shades of black. The grass and ground were the darkest, like an abstract painting of splattered monochrome. The space in between the—sky?—was more gray and murky, a thick fog coiled and ready to strike. Kalinda floated above it all in a navy-blue, starless sky.
Not exactly.
As she watched, small flames of gray and almost white hovered just before her. She couldn’t look away if she wanted to.
“Hello, daughter. We see you. We will forever see you now. When you go home, we shall follow.”
