Page 66 of Trust the Fall

My broken body is lifted into the arms of a savior I can’t see through my own tears. I’m cradled into a warm, solid chest, and like a child, I coil further into it and continue to weep. All my self-preservation is gone.

Luke finally broke me.

“Vic. Look at me.”

River.

I need him to erase the memory of Lucifer’s treachery. This man, who literally picked me up off the floor, could possibly bring me back to life.

“Can you make me forget him? Do you have that kind of power?”

Lesser beings have been known to harness such capabilities. Maybe he can?

“I can’t do that, Victoria. And you wouldn’t want me to.”

* * *

* * *

I jerk awake, thrashing my arms to stop an attack that isn’t coming.

It was just a dream.

A very disarming, completely jarring, nightmare.

I’m not even sure where to begin dissecting that monstrosity. From the flip between Luke and River to the totally bizarre vampire twist, that was … strange.

Ugh!

I throw my legs over the side of the bed and head to the attached bathroom. Turning on the cold water, I fill my palms with as much as they will hold and bring it to my face, needing the jolt.

I grab the towel that was hanging on the wall and wipe my face. When I look into the mirror, I cry out at the woman behind me.

“Jesus! What the hell are you doing in here?”

A pale woman with icy blond hair stares at me in the mirror, her dead eyes void of color.

“Your door was unlocked. I knocked, but when you didn’t answer, I came in,” she says in a monotone voice that chills me to my core. “You’ve slept an entire day away.”

“What?” That news snaps me out of the fright brought on by the walking dead behind me.

“This place is perpetually night, but yes … you’ve slept for more than twenty human hours.” She blinks, but otherwise remains still. “I was tasked with getting you dressed and escorting you downstairs.”

“For what?”

“I don’t know. Lilith requested it,” she says, and the mention of Lilith sours my mood further. “Hurry up. He isn’t to be kept waiting.”

I want to fight her, but the need to get to Luke and apologize for everything is greater than my need to be disagreeable.

“There are clothes in the wardrobe,” she says, turning her back on me.

“What’s wrong? I thought you were all about equal opportunity down here. You don’t want to see my goods?” I taunt, because remaining silent in the presence of this ghostly figure is more disturbing.

“I have plenty of opportunities waiting for me that don’t carry blades that’ll end my existence.”

“Too bad. Luke would say you’re missing out.”

I quickly dress in the first thing I find. A red velvet belly shirt and matching skirt.