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She shakes her head, her cropped hair bouncing as she does. “No. You’ll tell me from down there. Right now. Then I’ll decide whether you’re worth letting out or not.”
I grit my teeth. “You don’t understand. There’s not enough time. If you don’t get me out of this pit before the sun comes up—”
“Then you’ll burn,” she says, her voice devoid of emotion. “Yeah, I know. Vampires have a tendency to do that.”
The change in her speech hits me, the way she no longer searches for words or skips over simple connecting phrases.
“You didn’t learn our language from a tutor, did you?” I ask.
She stares me down rather than answering.
I sigh, backing to the edge of the pit, thinking maybe the wall will provide me a few moments of shade once the sun rises.
That, and I’m exhausted enough that having the cool wall to support my back feels necessary at the moment.
“Where do you want me to start?” I ask.
“I already told you,” she says. “How did you get out of my head? Are you a wraith of some sort? A dream walker? I didn’t think vampires could dream walk, but maybe in other realms…”
I frown, pinching my forehead. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
She lets out a disbelieving huff, propping her fists against her hips. “You visit me in my dreams. You’re a recurring nightmare of mine. Have been for years.”
My stomach starts to hollow out, and the realization of what she’s referring to hits me only slightly too late.
Her already sallow cheeks go sunken. “You feed on me in my dreams—”
“Zora—”
“And it’s like I can’t move. Can’t even scream. I’m totally helpless. And then just as I think this is it, that I’m going to die, this female comes and breaks your ne—”
“Zora—”
“Stop calling me that,” she snaps, and I clamp my jaw shut, shame washing over me.
“I can explain, but you have to…” I trail off, realizing now that even if there was a chance she’d let me out of this pit on trust alone, I wouldn’t deserve it. Not after the torture I’ve put her through for years.
She seems to be thinking the same thing, because she nods at me, daring me to continue.
I swallow, squeeze my eyes shut, and try to find the words to explain.
“This isn’t your world. Your original world, I mean.” I open my eyes, expecting Zora to have stormed off, interpreting my words as a poorly crafted lie. A desperate grab for an escape. But she hasn’t moved. Her eyes are cold as stone, but her pointed ears are perked at attention.
“You’ve lived many lives,” I say, continuing on hesitantly. “This one isn’t your first, and it’s certainly not the original.”
Zora blinks hard, and I can hear her heart pounding, bouncing off the walls of the pit, even from down here. “Yes, I know that I’m one of the reincarnate.”
I can’t help but sigh. I didn’t expect her to follow me this far. “So you remember them? The other lives?”
“I’m not the one answering questions right now.”
I nod. She’s right. I don’t have time to be interrogating her before the sun comes up. By my judgment, we have less than a quarter of an hour. If that.
“Right. I…” I swallow, struggling to corral my whirling thoughts in my panic. Calm. I have to stay calm. Logical. Like Gunter would have me do.
My heart gives a dull pang, but it’s enough to propel me forward. “The realm I come from, that’s your realm, too. The one you were born in. The one where your original body lies.”
“So I’m dead in that realm,” she says, a slight tremble in her voice, though I can tell by the strain in her throat she’s trying to hide it.
