Page 29

“Why don’t we all wash up, and then just go to bed and cuddle up?” I suggest.

I doubt any of us wants anything to eat, not after what we’ve been through this evening and the things that we’ve seen. We have a huge bath now that fits two of us easily. I take Roman’s hand and squeeze it. “Will you get in the bath with me? After we’ve rinsed this blood off?”

I glance at Cain and see that he understands.

Malachi gets on board, too. “That’s a good idea, and me and Cain can take turns in the shower. Then we can all share the big bed tonight. I don’t think anyone should sleep alone.”

Roman shrugs. “Sure.” He agrees to take the bath with me, but he’s distracted, and somewhere else in his mind. I hope I can bring him back to me.

An hour later, we’re all clean and scrubbed. My hair is wrapped in a towel, and I put Roman’s in a matching towel, too, much to his pretend disgust. He has a little bit of his personality back now, but I’m still worried about him.

I make us all some chamomile tea, and we carry our mugs up to the bedroom, where the huge bed we had custom made resides. For a moment, I wonder which of my men I should sleep next to. Roman for sure, but I don’t want either Cain or Mal to feel left out. It’s Mal who climbs into the bed next to me after I snuggle up by Roman, who is on the edge. Cain gets in last and makes me laugh by throwing one big heavy arm over Mal and me.

“Hey, who said I agreed to be in the little spoon?” Mal chuckles.

I realize Cain’s fingers are resting on the edge of Roman’s t-shirt, and he’s basically holding on to all of us, his arm stretched as far as he can. It touches my heart.

We’ve left the lamp on in the corner of the room, and it gives a gentle glow of warm golden light. We didn’t even discuss it, but I don’t think any of us wants to be in the dark right now. Despite being surrounded by my men, and the cozy room, all I keep hearing are the sounds of that infernal carnival. I wish I could get it out of my mind.

“This might sound a bit crazy, but there’s this ASMR Podcast that I listen to that’s basically chilled out history and stuff.” Malachi reaches for his phone from the side table, leaning right over me and Roman to grab it, and he swipes on the screen. “I could put it on so we’ve got something to listen to? It might help us fall asleep.”

It’s as if he read my mind!

“I like the sound of that.” I offer him a smile. “But just not anything too grim.”

He eventually finds an episode about the lives of medieval women in Europe, and he sets it to play. The woman’s voice who narrates the podcast is soft and soothing, and she keeps it well-regulated so eventually it does start to lull me to sleep.

My last thought before I drift off is that tomorrow is Halloween, and we’re going to have to do something really special to celebrate that we survived.

The clown’s face looms at me out of the dark, its massive mouth widening ever more until there’s nothing but a huge black hole about to swallow me.

I sit up in bed with a gasp, clutching my hand to my chest. Because we left the lamp on, I immediately see I’m at home in the big bed, safe and sound. I glance to one side and find Mal and Cain both fast asleep. When I look to the other side, though, my heart stutters. The space next to me is empty, and Roman is gone.

19

ROMAN

I can’t fucking breathe. No matter what the hell I do, I can’t seem to get enough air. Jesus Christ, please make this stop.

I pace up and down the altar room. I’ve done all the rituals that normally help, and nothing is working.

I’ve begged and pleaded with the gods to show me some mercy, but my body won’t give up. I’m pumped full of adrenaline, and it seems there’s more and more to come. I clench and unclench my fingers and jog on the spot, trying to burn some off. Then I breathe in, and I’m gasping again for air. No matter how much I try to do the breathing exercises I use when I meditate, I can’t control it. The air hunger I’m experiencing is goddamn awful. Am I losing my mind?

This is all my fault.

My fault. My fault. My fault.

I put her in harm’s way. I took her to that sick, twisted place, and let her see things she should never have witnessed. My gods, as if she hasn’t had enough abuse and terror in her life. And then I caused all this. Sometimes, I don’t even think I deserve to take up space on this earth. I’m disgusted with myself right now.

There’s only one thing that can make this better. Only one thing that will work when I feel so bad, and I’ve not felt quite this bad in the longest time, if ever. I’d made a promise not to do this anymore, but either I give myself physical pain, or I will shatter.

I don’t have the rope easily available that I used to beat myself with. However, I do have a belt. If I hold the buckle end and use the other end to rain down blows on my back, maybe it won’t mark my skin too badly.

I know the only reason I’m considering the marks is because I’m trying to hide what I’m about to do from Ophelia and the others, and the thought coats me with sickly shame. If she finds out, she’ll feel as if I’ve betrayed her. But I can’t bear this feeling any longer. I want to crawl out of my skin and just walk away from myself and what happened tonight. From all of it. If it wasn’t for Ophelia, I’d have been genuinely worried that I’d do something I could never come back from. I won’t leave her, though. Even though I know Mal and Cain both love her fiercely and will protect her, the control freak in me needs to be around to ensure she’s safe. I guess that’s what might ultimately save me. But even though I won’t take that final step, and do something irrevocable, I know, with dreadful certainty, that tonight I’m going to hurt myself.

I’m going to hurt myself badly.

I drop to my knees in front of my altar and, with the belt buckle in my palm, I wrap the length of leather around my hand a couple of times to give myself a better grip. I’m already anticipating the sting of pain, the distraction from the runaway train my mind has become.