Fate's Revenge (Twisted Fate, Book 4)

Chapter Eight

I felt as good as I had before leaving Glory Academy to return to Hell's Fire. Not perfect, but far from broken. Not a single urge to allow sleep to embrace me—not even to blink—was present.

Alyssa?

Hailey gasped and jerked back in her chair as Tyler spoke my name, only he didn't use his voice. He thought it. And she had heard? Her gaze grew wide and she let go of Tyler's hand to stare at me. I held her stare for a moment, then shook my head and looked back to Tyler.

Aly? Are you here?

"Yes," I said and leaned closer. I held my breath as though the sound would overpower the words and I would miss what he had to say. "Can you talk?"

"What did he say?" Hailey asked in a rush.

This time, I looked at her in surprise. "You didn't hear him?"

She shook her head.

"Take his hand again." When she didn't move, I repeated the order more forcibly. "Take his hand, Hailey."

She stared at me like she was considering her options. Could she ignore me? Refuse? And what would happen if she did? It was funny how many Pure and Dark Souls thought that I would deliver harsh consequences for their disobedience. I was the Pure Soul. God might punish with a mighty hand and call it righteous, but I was too good for that. He might have given mortals free will based on what He thought had been a good theory, but I actually believed in it. Of course, I didn't think that made me better; rather, I was just... different. His methods and beliefs were for a race He created, which worked well and good for them. My race, though seemingly inferior, had evolved. We needed different rules and beliefs for a harmonious existence to be established.

Hailey took Tyler's hand again. I wasn't sure if I was happy that she'd listened or if she'd done something she didn't want to do because she was afraid of what would happen if she didn't. Really, it didn't matter. Right now, I needed her to stay no matter her reason. At first, I needed time. Now, I needed answers. Again.

"Tyler?" I asked. He didn't move, but his eyelids fluttered, and I could see the effort it took for him to swallow. "Tyler, are you okay? Do you hurt?"

No.

Hailey gasped again but leaned forward instead of pulling back.

The creep factor had apparently been replaced with curiosity and she asked, "Can you wake up, Tyler?"

I—no. I'm tired. So tired.

"I didn't help you?" I asked and studied him.

With better coloring and regulated breathing, he wasn't worse. But whatever I had done hadn't been enough. Why wasn't he awake?

I feel better, but I'm tired.

"Hailey? Let go of his hand a minute," I told her and looked at where she held him.

She narrowed her eyes. "Why? Are you going to ask him something you don't want me to know?"

"No."

"Then why—"

"Because I need to try to help him again," I said. "I—it didn't work right. I have to help him wake up, and I don't think I can do that with you attached to his other side."

"Yeah, but you didn't pass out." Her expression remained unaltered, but now it seemed as though she'd shifted her thought processing, no longer confused but pensive. Shifting her gaze from me to where she held Tyler's hand, her mouth pinched at the corners, causing a white line to border her lips.