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I had already made way too much noise getting down here.
I turned onto my back and looked up, cradling my arm and breathing through the pain. There was no one looking down at me from my bedroom window, no sinister dark shape, no monsters laughing at me, mocking me. That only made things worse.
The pain started to dull, but I knew that wasn’t going to last. Adrenaline could only do so much, but I was going to use it while I had it. Fighting for every breath I took, I planted my good arm on the ground, rolled onto my good side, and pushed myself up. When I was able to stand, I looked around, scanning the grounds and the paths around me.
There was no one out here.
No one had heard me.
Another surge of adrenaline pushed through me, and I rode it like a surfer on the back of a shark infested wave. I started running, heading for the fountain and the tall hedges around it. Dogs weren’t sent after me, no one sounded an alarm, and no one yelled at me to stop. As I reached the hedges, I found myself filling with hope, with excitement.
But it was short lived.
Mason Diaboli turned an impossible corner around a tall hedge, appearing as if from nowhere, his arms folded in front of his chest.
“Going somewhere?” he asked.
I stopped dead in my tracks, standing in front of him, cradling my busted arm. “I’m leaving,” I said through my teeth. “Get out of my way.”
He shook his head. “You aren’t going anywhere,” he said, “I think you just learned that firsthand.”
With a flick of his wrist, he sent a bolt of red light streaking toward me. I was too slow to avoid it. The red light struck me square in the chest, my entire body seized up, and the world around me plunged into darkness.
Chapter
Twelve
Iawoke with a start, my heart wedged in my throat. A searing punch of pain in my arm sent me shooting back to the bed I was on. Grimacing, I sucked in a deep breath of air through my teeth to try to keep a hold on my consciousness.
I wasn’t sure where I was. It was dark, too dark. I couldn’t see a thing in front of me. Were my eyes even open? I turned my head to the side and tried to focus on something, anything. After a long moment of concentration, I started to make out the small end table by the side of the bed I was on.
I was back in the bedroom.
Back in the house with all the demons.
Another sharp pulse of pain moved through me. It wasn’t just my arm that hurt, but my entire right side, from my shoulder all the way to my knee. I went to inspect the damage, only to find the arm bandaged and wrapped in a sling against my chest; I was in bad shape—too bad to move, to fight, to defend myself. In trying to escape the Diaboli house, I had made my life a hundred times more complicated.
The bedroom door suddenly opened, letting a sliver of light into the bedroom. I tried to scramble up the bed, to sit upright, but the searing pain that blossomed from my ribs quickly put a stop to that. I had expected Mason or Carla Diaboli to be stood by the door, coming to mock my escape attempt, but when I looked over; it was Lucien.
He didn’t enter, not right away. Instead, he slightly opened the door and waited for a moment before asking. “May I come in?”
My breaths were coming in quick and ragged, my heart was hammering against my chest, and I felt like I could pass out at any moment.
“What if I say no?” I croaked. “You’re gonna come in anyway, aren’t you?”
“You can say no. I made you something to eat but I can leave it out here for you.”
“Are you seriously bringing me food again?”
Lucien pushed the door open with his hip. He was again carrying a tray with a domed plate. It was hard to see him in the dark, but the shine of the metal plate and the glint of his rings was unmistakable. He pushed the door closed with his foot, and set the tray down on the end table before flicking on the lamp.
I saw him properly, now, his face bathed in soft, warm, orange light.
After a moment, he asked, “What were you thinking?”
“What?”
“Why did you jump?”
