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I will not make it.
I assumed Varin would die if I did. Now I wonder if they would simply become the only inhabitant of my body. A primal fear winds around me like a rope of thorns piercing my skin.
I claw at my bones and scream. The sound trapped within my mind. I don’t have the strength to fight much longer.
Keep fighting, Clara. Varin’s stained voice calls from inside my head.
A sensation, like the demon’s hands, wrap around my wrists. Both from within and outside of me. The sharp points pin me down. I lean into them, needing the demon’s help and seeking any sliver of comfort I can find. As I do, Varin mirrors the gesture, the force of their presence gradually relaxes.
There is a sharp snap, and the remaining pressure releases its hold. I gasp for air, pulling as much of it into my lungs as possible. It tastes like thick smoke, singeing my lungs.
Rolling to my side is an effort I am not entirely sure is my own doing. Every motion and twitch of muscle sends new waves of sharp pain shooting through me. I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, then manage to push myself up to sit. My limbs are heavy, and my movements clumsy. The stone floor is like hot coals under my palms.
Am I that cold?
My gaze settles on a smear of blood, bright against my ghostly pale hand. For a brief moment, I wonder if I was dead long enough for my body to cool or just very close.
We are alive.Varin’s voice brushes weakly along the inside of my mind.
Yes,I agree, getting to my feet. I stumble and trip, catching myself on the wall. Nothing wants to work right, as if it’s been weeks since I so much as twitched a muscle.
“Alaric,” I rasp. Then regret speaking as I succumb to another coughing fit.
How long have I been unconscious?I hurl the panicked question toward the demon.
Varin hesitates, and I can actually feel it.Nearly half an hour,they eventually reply.
Not as long as I feared, though I worry that it’s more than can be spared.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CLARA
Each step islike learning to walk again. Yet somehow, I find my way out of the cell and down the hall, only stopping to think about our exit once I get to the door that will take us past the old armory.
The energy it will take to backtrack and then make it out might be more than I have left. The wrong choice will lead to certain death. Fatigue gives hopelessness weight, pressing down on me.
Demons and saints… how in the Otherworld did everything go so fucking wrong?
I am with you now,Varin croons.I have not spent centuries in this purgatory without learning a thing or two.
It’s surreal to see my body move without my thought or will. Going through the doorway sends a jolt through me—the stride and pace are all wrong. I attempt to adjust. It doesn’t work, and I fall up the stairs, banging my knee on a stone step.
Varin growls and I growl right back, demanding control of my body. It takes the entire way up for us to find a rhythm that works well enough to keep from stumbling and tripping. Varin’s senses are keen, whispering when to stop and when to go, and where to turn to bypass clusters of humans and vampires.
The castle has quieted down in the main halls. Here, I gladly surrender to Varin. The death left in the wake of everything is an image I will never be rid of.
We move silently, weaving around the dead, avoiding the carnage as best we can. The scent of blood is overwhelming. I think I might be sick.
I nearly weep with relief when I feel the winter air on my face. Ahead, the monumental profiles of the mountains loom, casting their shadows over the land.
I take one step and then another until I am running. Varin turns my head toward the stables off to the right, then with a jerk, my body follows suit.
My stomach lurches and twists at the thought of riding while running for my life. I doubt I’d be so lucky as to avoid breaking my neck the second time, especially when my body is no longer entirely my own.
Changing my direction, I make to run for the mountains.
What are you doing? You cannot outrun vampires, you fool. Get a mount!The force of the demon’s command brings a wave of nausea rolling through me. Beads of sweat break out across my forehead and the back of my neck. Loose wisps of hair cling to my damp skin. When it passes, it leaves me feeling cold and clammy all over.
