Lips Red As Blood

49 |

The world tastes like bitterness and everything wrong, as if Cora made a bad decision the moment the two devils left. Yet she can't do anything but wait. 

Wait, facing the white hotel walls that seem to taunt her with its blandness. Wait, while insufferable silence riddles a hole in Cora's brain. Wait, while each shallowing breath she takes makes her chest throb. 

As time trickles by, dread slowly infiltrates Cora's body, thoughts bombarding her mind. She's unraveling, slowly but surely, losing her mind. A million thoughts of what-if scenarios whirl through, like a sandstorm here to destroy any reasonable thoughts she might've had. 

One hour melts into two, and that shifts into three hours. By the eighth hour, Cora is visibly distressed, chewing on her fingernails, a habit she thought was long gone. Her fears are also funneled by the television, where there's a large commotion of screaming and flowing screams. 

As the anxious screams saw themselves into Cora, she feels her head split into multiple pieces. Maybe Leticia is on the ground at this very moment, blood decorating her frail body, a mixture of vermillion-red liquid and silky black hair. Maybe Asher is helpless, as a piece of glass made from evil is lodged deep in his chest, unable to cry for help. Maybe they'll end up like unfortunate Kai and Yuna, marked dead from the start. Cora releases a whimper. That can't happen. 

They'll be fine, she tries to soothe herself. Leticia is the queen of Hell. Asher was once a powerful devil. They should be fine. 

Or would they? 

Cora bolts on her feet, snatching the remote control from Harper's hand. "Hey." Harper frowns. "I was watching TV—" 

"I can't handle it anymore," Cora gasps. "I have to do something." 

Harper shakes her head, about to refute that when Cora stabs a finger at the television. "'The world is ending,'" she declares, quoting the news reporter. "I'm not going to idly sit back." 

The news shows images of people wandering towards famous architectures — the Eiffel Tower, the Golden Gate Bridge, Taipei 101 — their eyes dazed as they climb up the stairs, webs of dark veins pulsing under their skin. Around them, smoke and flipped-over cars decorate the place. 

"Look," spits out Cora, flinging her arms at the images. "These events have to be connected to Dalton." 

"Okay, and?" Harper raises a brow. "What can you do?" 

It feels like a splash of ice-cold water. Because really, what can Cora do? She's helpless, with no weapons, with no magical abilities, with no brilliant plan. Two of her friends are dead, two others are charging into battle, and Cora can't prevent anything. Except perhaps one little thing. 

Cora glances at her sister. Scratch that. Two things. "The world is ending," Cora repeats, "so let's get bubble tea." 

Cutesy pop music blares in the background, as Cora slurps her bubble tea, trying to break the awkward silence. Milk tea and the soft chewy texture of boba explodes on her tongue. "This is really good, isn't it?" Cora says brightly, tapping the plastic top of the bubble tea. 

Irene doesn't look like she agrees, red-faced. Harper's eyes narrow suspiciously, as she silently studies her mother. "What's the meaning of this?" Irene wants to know. "Why did you suddenly call me to have food and then bring her along?" 

Harper's lips press into a thin line. "She can't even say my name," Harper hisses accusingly, pinching Cora's arm. "In what world did you think this would be a good idea—" 

"In what world?" Cora says loudly, interrupting them both. "In a world that's supposedly ending. People are getting into trances and because they're wandering out on the streets without paying attention, they're dying. That can happen to any of us at any time. We don't know the patterns between the attacks."